Surprisingly, Vok'Rul was gone when Viktor woke up the next day.

It was even more surprising when he realized that this was the first day he had slept in while on this planet. Viktor had never been a morning person, having hoarded all the sleep he possibly could when he had been back on Earth and nothing more than a simple teenager. But since he had been thrown into the arena, getting up at dawn had proved more beneficial than not. It wasn't a habit that he had found himself breaking even after he had gotten out.

The sun was still low in the sky, but it wasn't peeking out of the ground like he had grown used to seeing. When Viktor stepped out of the closet, stretching and managing to crack his back in a few places, he was greeted with a full bowl of jerky.

"Weird," he grumbled, taking a small piece and nibbling on it. He definitely would've heard Vok'Rul come into the office. He scrubbed the tiredness out of his eyes, leaning back and looking at his food bowl in thought after he was done. Maybe he had been more tired than he thought last night.

After they had gotten back from the small park, Vok'Rul had hidden away the little box he had gotten somewhere. Viktor had tried to follow him, curiosity outweighing whatever thoughts he had had about that sketchy alien servant guy. The sneaky bastard somehow managed to hide it away before Viktor could see where he put it, though. After all that, Vok'Rul had gone into his office to do whatever it was alien politicians did on their alien computers, and Viktor was left to fend for himself. Not that he minded too much. He had a lot to think about.

The relief that Nikolas was still alive and well was palpable. It also gave him renewed hope that he'd see the others someday soon. Maybe they had been adopted into the area, too. Viktor missed them, a lot.

It wasn't terrible, living here with Vok'Rul. Sure, Viktor would definitely prefer to be on Earth, but he didn't really have any choice in that right now. He missed the conversation, though. There was only so much charm in talking to an alien who couldn't talk back, after all.

Today, though, Vok'Rul was not in any of the usual places he went after waking up. Usually, the alien got up after Viktor did, fed him first thing, and went off to the bathroom. After that, he'd bother Viktor incessantly until the alien fucked off downstairs. A quick peek between the railings told Viktor that the alien was not making any sort of food down there. He wasn't in the bathroom or his bedroom, either.

Twinges of worry bloomed in his chest. Viktor wondered if he had slept right through a political kidnapping. Did those happen?

"Don't be stupid," he said to himself, staring down the staircase skeptically. Vok'Rul was probably downstairs in that dining room, or maybe even outside. It's not like Viktor cared where he went. He resolutely ignored the small part of him that was afraid of what would happen to him if Vok'Rul decided he didn't want a human pet anymore.

Mind made up, Viktor gritted his teeth and started the arduous trek down the stairs. It was easier now that his arm didn't scream with every movement, but it still took him a while to get down. He couldn't really grip anything with his arm in a cast.

Feet on solid ground, Viktor quickly made his way to the dining room, fully expecting Vok'Rul to be sitting in one of the chairs. Disappointment filled him when he realized that the alien wasn't even in their wing. "Okay," he said to himself under his breath, turning towards the doorway with a determined look. "Just go find him, then."

He tried justifying his search for Vok'Rul by telling himself that he just needed those pills for his arm, nothing more. Definitely not for companionship or anything. Nope.

He had never really been alone in the time he had been on this planet. Surrounded by humans or aliens, Viktor always had someone or something to talk to. It was just a bit weird waking up alone.

There were no guards posted outside the doorway today. They must have given up the whole house arrest thing they were trying to do the past week. It's about time, in Viktor's opinion. Even if they hadn't known that the feral animal was planted there, they seriously went overboard for an attack.

His attention was drawn immediately as he stepped into the main entranceway. It was surprising that he hadn't heard all the commotion all the way upstairs. Whoever was at the front door was loud.

As Viktor turned the corner, stepping out from behind the wall, he saw three things.

First, Vok'Rul. The tall alien was easy to spot, considering he towered over everyone in the grand room. He was dressed semi-formally. It looked like he had stopped in the middle of adorning his jewelry. His tail and hands were bereft of the shiny accessories, but his clothing was neat and pressed.

Second, all of the staff. Well, not all of them. It was mostly the bodyguards. The attendants that helped Vok'Rul with his jewelry were behind the alien, arms nearly full of the gems and bands. They were all huddled around the doorway, stepping in front of Vok'Rul to keep themselves in between the alien and the newcomer.

And thirdly, the guest. Viktor couldn't really see who it was at the door, considering he was about half the size of everyone here and the giant wall of aliens. Vok'Rul raised his hands placatingly, gesturing forward and speaking. It seemed to quell whatever anger the bodyguards had because they all quieted down. The voices were still mingled enough that Viktor had trouble picking even Vok'Rul out.

Viktor was glad that the small group - and really, it couldn't have been more than ten people - had quieted, because he hadn't realized how bad the noise had affected him until he could hear his own harsh breathing, which clued him into the erratic way his heart was beating, pumping blood through his body with a hurried frenzy.

He nervously wiped his hands on his sweater. The one he had gotten for the trip to the marketplace was safely tucked in his bed, lumped up to form a makeshift pillow. Maybe his 'pillow' was what helped him sleep better last night, though he still had the regular nightmarish dreams. He tried not to think about those too much, though.

The group was still talking, though it was mostly Vok'Rul speaking now. Viktor carefully slunk over, keeping his gaze on the attendants, especially the one that had shooed him away the day they had gone to the school. They noticed him right away, which, while expected, still made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in warning. He didn't like having so many gazes on him all at once, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. Still, Viktor gave them his best glare.

Vok'Rul's tail was blocking his path, lying like a dead snake on the floor. His tail tip was twitching back and forth, though. Viktor hopped over it, steadying himself by placing a hand on the red appendage. The action caused the alien to look down, eyes widening comically in surprise. He seemed nervous. Viktor frowned at him as the alien moved his tail in front of him.

"What the hell, man, I just jumped over that!" Viktor exclaimed. At the sound of his voice, the hall went silent. The bodyguards turned to look at him in bemusement.

"Byr lorka, Kohgrash!" Vok'Rul said sternly, physically pushing Viktor away with his tail. His tone was a bit worried, which made Viktor worried, too. Taken off guard from the sudden push from Vok'Rul's tail, he stumbled back, only barely managing to keep his footing.

Viktor scowled and opened his mouth to start giving the alien a piece of his mind for treating him like an unruly animal when the newcomer spoke.

"Kohgrash?" the voice was sickeningly familiar, and Viktor was horrified.

No, it couldn't be. He thought he would never see or hear from her again. They were free from that wretched place, free from fighting, free from cages, free from undeserved beatings. He had only been away for less than a month, maybe a few days over, but he had never felt happier, even if he was unable to see his friends.

The sick smell of alien straw, mushy food, and the coppery tang of blood seemed to fill the air, and Viktor choked, hands coming up to claw at the collar hanging around his throat. It was too tight, too constricting. His hands met nothing, and his nails dug into his scarred, bumpy skin, convinced it was under his skin. Buried under his flesh, ready to choke and shock him into obedience.

Off, off, off, he needed it off, now!

Something was grabbing at his hands, trying to pull them away from his neck and attack him there instead. He let out a strangled noise, curling his hands into fists. The grip they had on him was strong, and he wasn't able to break away to punch whoever was grabbing him. The slight discomfort in his casted arm felt like nothing to the panic and horror he experienced.

He was going to get dragged back into the arena, forced to fight every damn day for putrid food and the chance to live to see the next day. He never knew when he was going to be forcefully retired. Living every day in paranoia was the norm in that hellhole, and Viktor never wanted to go back.

He wrenched his arm away, feeling an uncomfortable pull on his shoulder. His fingers grasped feebly at the ground, trying to grab a fistful of sand that wasn't there to throw in his opponent's face. He flung his arm forward, releasing the sand in his enemy's eyes, but they didn't recoil as he expected, even though his hand had connected to their face. Their hands only tightened on his trapped arm.

Hands? Viktor had never fought a creature with hands before. Heart pounding harshly in his ears, an erratic rhythm that nearly blocked out all other sounds, he pried his eyes open. He frantically looked around for signs of danger. His eyes were blown wide in terror. They settled on the creature in front of him.

It was Vok'Rul. He was crowded in front of Viktor, taking up all the space between them. Normally, Viktor would've been grouchy that he had gotten so close to him, but now, he was just grateful that he was unable to see anyone else.

His mouth was moving, and it was only then that Viktor realized he was hardly able to hear anything over the loud beating of his heart and his pitiful, choking attempts at breathing. Viktor closed his mouth, which had been open in a silent snarl, and sucked in air through his nose. He let out a noisy exhale through his mouth.

Eventually, he could hear the alien speaking. His face was wrought with worry, yellow eyes pinched with concern. There was a scratch on his face, and Viktor realized that must have been from him. Guilt immediately churned in his gut, and he reached out warily to gently brush his fingers against the scratch. It wasn't terribly deep, not even enough to draw blood, considering these aliens' tough skin, but Viktor still felt terrible.

Vok'Rul gently shook the arm he had in his hand, his cast suddenly feeling too tight. It was only then that Viktor started to feel a slight throbbing on his neck, and he gingerly felt it with his fingers, wincing when they found the marks his nails had left. When he looked at his hand after he pulled away, he saw the faintest marks of blood residing on his fingers.

Viktor looked around, noting that the entourage of jewelry aliens had vanished, as well as a fair number of bodyguards. The large doors to the mansion were shut, and he wondered, a little hysterically, if maybe he had made the whole thing up. She couldn't have been here, could she? Why would Lilac of all things be at his front door?

And what did that mean for him?

Was Vok'Rul going to give him up? Surely, he would've just dropped him back off at the pet store, or a shelter or something. Where did unwanted humans go? Viktor remember the endless speculation he and his friends had while in the arena about why they were there. Despite some of the silly answers like needing them for laying eggs or something equally as ridiculous, the chilling answers had been possibly using them as livestock.

Viktor, despite all his hangups with this alien race and the horrors they had put him through, knew that he had a very nice place to live, now. The food, even though it was just dried meat, was good. He had a warm place to sleep, and he wasn't constantly looking over his shoulder for danger. It was nice here.

His worrying was interrupted by Vok'Rul, who frantically tapped on his hand, no doubt thinking he had gone into a panic again. Viktor gave him an uneasy smile, feeling embarrassment slowly creeping up his neck, and pulled his hand away from the alien's now gentle grasp. He rubbed at his wrist a bit uselessly, considering it was wrapped up in a cast, but still, the tight grip had most likely bruised his skin even under the wrappings.

"Byr lorka, Kohgrash?" Vok'Rul asked, reaching out to touch his head. Viktor ducked away quickly, too wound up to let the alien pet him, even if he had never caused him harm before. Just the thought of Lilac, and her kind touches being replaced with that cursed burning ointment of hers, grabbing him too tightly to make him lie still... it repulsed him enough that he didn't want Vok'Rul to touch him. He'd probably end up punching the alien.

"Yeah, yeah," Viktor whispered, feeling unsteady on his feet as he stumbled back to the personal wing. As soon as he was out of sight, the human heard Vok'Rul give a small sigh of... something. Viktor wrinkled his nose, wondering what was upsetting the alien. Was it his flashbacks, PTSD, or whatever? Was this the last straw for Vok'Rul? Viktor may hate these aliens, and what they've done to him, but he was reluctant to leave this place. Vok'Rul was nice to him.

After some thinking, and listening to the increasing volume of the shuffling outside - it seemed that the alien servants and bodyguards were all coming back to the room - Viktor managed to push a chair over to a window. Even if it wasn't Lilac, and he had made the whole thing up, Viktor wanted to make sure, even if just for the sake of his sanity.

He scrambled onto the chair with some difficulty, slumping against the oddly shaped back. The view from this window was not ideal. He definitely couldn't see the main door with the way the mansion curved. He could, however, see the driveway. The driveway was almost always empty, save for the times Vok'Rul and he went out to places, but now there was one of those alien police cars he had seen at the school.

"Weird," he muttered to himself, breath fogging up the window. He scrubbed at the spot with his sweater. Why were the cops here? Vok'Rul wasn't in some sort of trouble, was he? Maybe it was some sort of follow-up thing for that attack at the school.

After nearly half an hour of waiting (and Viktor could be exaggerating, he honestly wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was certain it was a while), he got his answer. He nearly forgot to breathe as he saw Lilac being escorted back to the vehicle, unrestrained, but wearing a heavy bracelet on her wrist that had never been there in the arena. She looked so frighteningly similar to how she did when she fed them all and tended to their wounds that Viktor had to look away, dropping his head between his knees as he collapsed back onto the chair.

"Deep breaths, Viktor," he gasped, shutting his eyes tight. "Jesus Christ."

He had honestly thought that he would never see her again. Despite the familiarity that she would have offered them when they were shoved so suddenly into a vet clinic and then into a pet store of all things, he was sure that he would've been grateful to see a friendly face. But now, after he had been slowly trying to forget about all that had happened in the arena, Lilac was not a sight that he wanted to see.

A hand suddenly settled on his head, and he jumped, shrinking away from it. Vok'Rul was in front of him, looking down at him with a small frown marring his face and hand outstretched. The outfit servants from before were behind him, obviously impatient to finish what they started, but unwilling to say anything. In Vok'Rul's other hand were some papers. He murmured something to Viktor softly, and the human couldn't help the slow burst of affection for the alien in his chest.

Viktor slid off the chair, hyperaware of Vok'Rul's hovering hands to catch him should he fall. He shooed them away. Eventually, the servants managed to get the rest of the jewelry on Vok'Rul, though the alien looked extremely unhappy about it. He kept shooting looks at Viktor, who was crouched under the table, watching them all warily. He had to go somewhere important, Viktor surmised, somewhere that Viktor couldn't attend with him, considering the grumpy look on his face.

It suited Viktor just fine, he needed some time to think. The servants exited the wing in an orderly fashion, very much put together. Viktor felt like he was tearing at the seams simply sitting under the table. He wondered how Nikolas was doing, and if the others had gotten adopted. He wondered if they were all okay.

Vok'Rul tried to coax Viktor out from under the table, but he stayed put, nearly unresponsive and lost in his thoughts. Even the promise of treats didn't lure him out. The alien had to leave, despite his misgivings about leaving Viktor by himself. Viktor watched the tall alien disappear, staring at the spot his tail had vanished out of the doorway for a long while afterward.

The small pile of treats lay untouched, even when Viktor managed to push himself off the ground and struggle his way upstairs. Viktor curled up in the little closet he now called home, blanket tight around his shoulders. He stayed quiet and didn't move for a long time.

***

Vocabulary:

byr lorka: go home