In Search of Home

Chapter 42

"Cho'k," Vok'Rul said pleadingly, crouching on the ground. Viktor's back was to the open doorway, thank God. Otherwise, he would've felt trapped, what with the way that Vok'Rul seemed to fill over half of the bathroom when he was down here. The alien reached out toward his good arm, no doubt wanting to grab him. He quickly took a large step back.

Shoulders hunching defensively, Viktor bared his teeth at him threateningly, something he hadn't done since those first few days here. Vok'Rul recoiled as if Viktor had punched him in the face instead. 

They were both still for a moment. Viktor pressed his lips together, sucking in a long breath in an attempt to calm himself. "I'm scared," he admitted, feeling his stomach twist at the confession. He didn't know of what. Vok'Rul stared at him for a moment, worry written clear as day all over his face. It almost made Viktor want to cry. He blamed it on the dream. 

Suddenly, Vok'Rul made a noise, as if he had solved a particularly tricky puzzle. He showed Viktor the vial again, and Viktor watched skeptically as he stood up, rummaging through the cabinet again. He pulled out a small cup. It was glass, or something similar at least, and reminded Viktor of the plastic little cups that were used for cold medicine. 

Vok'Rul crouched back down, setting the cup on the ground and filling it up carefully with the contents of the vial. The purple liquid traveled sluggishly out of it and into the cup. When it settled, it started smoking. 

Viktor made a noise of strangled protest, more resolved now than ever to not take that. "You're crazy, Vok'Rul, literally crazy," he said, pivoting on his heel to go back to the office. 

"Kohgrash, kor, cho'k. Keti," Vok'Rul implored, grabbing the little cup. It was comically small in his hands, and Viktor wondered if it was for the children of their species. 

"Keti?" Viktor repeated with a scoff, reluctant to leave with the promise of learning a new word. 

"Keti, teyk. Keti, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul said, nodding and slowly bringing the smoking cup of purple liquid to his own mouth. Okay, Viktor thought to himself, keti probably meant look, or something similar. But it could've easily been medicine. Add that to his mental dictionary. 

Viktor watched as Vok'Rul tipped the smoking liquid into his mouth and swallowed. He didn't even grimace in distaste. He waited for a few moments, but the alien didn't start to convulse with pain or otherwise show any emotion or indication that the medicine was harming him. 

Still, he was skeptical. This alien had been able to lift another one completely off its feet without breaking a sweat. Who was to say that Vok'Rul didn't have a crazy high pain tolerance? 

Vok'Rul was speaking, probably telling him how great he felt. He poured a smaller amount of the liquid back into the cup and pushed it across the floor to Viktor. 

The teenager chewed the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight across his feet. He was in horrendous pain, he would admit that to himself. His arm throbbed from where Vok'Rul had grabbed it. He must have been hitting the wall with it to get it feeling like this. 

He rubbed his face with his other hand, feeling worn out. Vok'Rul was looking at him pleadingly, gesturing to the cup again when they locked eyes. "Norish, Kohgrash," he lied, pushing the cup toward him another small millimeter. 

"Fine," he hissed at the alien, hand curling into a fist. He wanted to hit something. He grabbed the cup roughly, ignoring the way his hand shook and watching as some of the liquid splashed onto the floor. He took a few fortifying breaths, and before he lost his nerve, tipped it back into his mouth. 

It... tasted like grapes. 

Not the normal grapes, but the unfortunate artificial replica medicine always tried and failed to get true. Viktor's face screwed up with disgust, but he got it down before he could think twice. "Ugh," he gasped out, angrily setting the cup down on the floor. It didn't break.