Viktor didn't recall most of the journey to the vet's office. One moment he was on the floor in a hallway, hair getting sticky with his blood, and the next moment he was being gently placed on a metal table with too bright lights shining from the ceiling.

"Bright," he mumbled, lifting his hand to cover his eyes. The lights seemed to pierce right through his skin and stab his brain. His head hurt.

There was murmuring above him and mercifully, the lights started to dim. Viktor, through the thick fog permeating his skull, wondered if they could suddenly understand him. He dismissed it, however, when they started pulling at his sweaters.

"No," he protested feebly, fumbling to push their hands off him. His dizziness, combined with his lack of coordination, made it a useless task. They wrestled it off of him in seconds, and he shivered at the cool air. Someone started wiping at the back of his neck with a warm cloth, and he secretly reveled in the feeling.

They dabbed at the front of his face, and he flinched away at the unexpected touch, baring his teeth. He grumbled a less than threatening, "fuck off," to the vets that they didn't seem to notice. Wiping dried blood off your face is less than pleasant, especially when the one doing the wiping has hands the size of your head.

The hands pulled away, and he was immediately on the move. The dim lights helped with his massive headache, but they weren't good for his eyesight. He had no idea where the exit of this place was. "Vok'Rul?" he called desperately, gripping the edge of the table as he forced his body upright. "Vok-"

Gentle hands gripped his biceps, warm and firm. They pried his weak grip off the table and scooted him back towards the center. He blinked hard, trying to make out the figure through the dim lights and blurred vision. Blood was still dripping into his eyes.

"Kohgrash, kor," the figure whispered, rubbing one of his claws up and down his arms, and Viktor knew that it was Vok'Rul. He tried to steady his erratic breathing and not flinch away as the scratchy cloth - not unlike some of the blankets he had gotten - wiped away at the cuts on his face.

Soon enough, the cloth was pulled away and Viktor sucked in a huge breath, whimpering in pain as his head was moved once more. He could hear low murmuring in a language that was not his own, and he never wished to be back on Earth more than he had at that moment.

Large claws pushed away his hair, prodding at the long cut on his forehead. He tried very hard not to thrash away, but his instincts were screaming at him to protect himself from these threats. His hands curled into fists, and he felt Vok'Rul's hands tighten around his arms. Vok'Rul must have said something he missed, because a moment later, another pair of hands gripped his ankles, much more tightly than Vok'Rul's hands on his arms.

Burning flooded his sense as something smeared across his forehead, and Viktor was helpless to the scream that tore out his throat. Despite the fact that he knew these people were trying to help him, the burning ointment brought back too many memories of the arena for him to appreciate. He thrashed in their hold, kicking and trying to get his arms loose to no avail. He needed to get away.

The burning sensation faded a lot faster than the one Lilac had always used on them, and he relaxed against the cold metal of the table, breathing harshly. His sharp movements had jarred his head even more, and he felt as though his brain would start leaking out of his ears.

Something touched his nose, cold and wet. Jerking his head away, Viktor blearily opened his eyes to glare at the vet. "S'not broken, y'dicks," he mumbled at them, scrunching his face up at the uncomfortable sensation of the blood being wiped away from his face once more.

More mumbling above his head. Viktor stopped trying to decipher the language. He closed his eyes against the onslaught that was his throbbing headache.

The vets started moving his head again. He felt like all the energy had been sapped from him, but he still managed to open his eyes to watch what they were doing.

Black bandages similar to his cast were plastered onto his forehead. They were incredibly itchy. His sweaters and hoodie were wrestled back onto him. They took this opportunity to replace the black bandages on his cast as well, replacing the frayed ones with pristine wrappings. It felt tighter than it needed to be, but his arm didn't hurt unless he pulled or pushed something with it, now.

The nightmare vet visit seemed to be over after that. Viktor was left alone. The hands on his ankles retreated, and he immediately curled up his legs to his chest. He leaned on Vok'Rul more than he would have if he weren't in incredible pain, but the alien didn't seem to mind. Vok'Rul's fingers were still rubbing on his arms, and Viktor tried to take comfort in that.

They were muttering over his head, voices low. Viktor felt weightless for a moment before he realized that arms had snaked under his knees and behind his back. The cool air of a planet whose sun was just beginning to set washed over his face for a brief moment before they were in a car. The trip back to the mansion was agonizing. Every rumble of the car seemed to aggravate his headache even more.

He felt as though he were going to tumble out of Vok'Rul's arms when they rolled to a stop. Cracking open his eyes revealed that they had returned to the mansion, and that they weren't alone.

Alarmed, he struggled to shift himself upright, only impeded by the tightening of Vok'Rul's arms. The alien was murmuring something to him, but Viktor ignored him. He was focused on the massive amount of aliens milling about the mansion's grounds.

There were police filtering in and out of the doorway, snapping orders at one another with words and hand signals unfamiliar to Viktor. What seemed to be news reporters swarmed the grounds outside of the mansion, held back by some of the bodyguards and a fence. Their cameras were unlike anything he had seen before.

He wasn't sure if it was the concussion talking, but their cameras seemed to have weird plastic bubbles floating around the lens. Maybe that was how they managed to make them holographic. They started to irritate his headache, though, so he looked away.

He felt Vok'Rul rumble with annoyance. Viktor could share the same sentiment.

Unwilling to be caught unaware around all these unfamiliar aliens, Viktor forced himself to remain as alert as he could be when they entered the mansion again. The police parted for Vok'Rul, offering him short bows. Glancing up at the alien told Viktor that he could care less about propriety. His gaze was focused on the individual being detained.

The alien that had attacked Viktor was on its knees in the entranceway. Viktor had no idea how long it had been since he had been taken to the vet, but it had surely been a few hours. The alien looked frazzled, nerves alight with fear and defiance. Large, bulky aliens were surrounding it, poised to attack if it made any sudden moves. It seemed that everyone was waiting for Vok'Rul's return.

Upon seeing Vok'Rul, the alien began speaking quickly, blubbering and stuttering. It pressed its face to the ground in a bow, causing the police to shift warily. Vok'Rul hissed something that shut the alien up quickly. Viktor tried not to feel too happy about that, but then again, this alien did slam his head into the ground a couple of times. That shit had hurt.

Someone stepped up to Vok'Rul's side, and Viktor whipped his head around to see who was creeping into his peripheral vision. It was just Rukka. "Rohsh," he mumbled, half waving at her when he saw that she was peering at him. She merely blinked at him before speaking to Vok'Rul in clipped tones.

She was angry, glancing at him and then back to the alien on the floor, who was still sniveling. Viktor wrinkled his nose in disgust at the alien. Vok'Rul snapped something back, eyes lingering on the alien's prone form. He glanced down at Viktor, shuttering his anger behind concern. He shifted the human in his arms, half turning his body toward Rukka.

"No," Viktor protested feebly, knowing what was going to happen. "I will scream."

Vok'Rul shushed him (shushed him!) before transferring Viktor into Rukka's arms. She held him awkwardly, and he was stiff as a board. They were both very unhappy about touching one another. But Viktor likely couldn't stand on his own two feet right now, and Rukka wasn't about to set him down. They were both going to suffer.

Instead, Viktor watched as Vok'Rul stalked forward, tail sweeping along the floor like a snake ready to attack. Some of the police took a few steps back when he approached. Viktor didn't have to wonder why.

In a blink, Vok'Rul grabbed the alien by the throat, hoisting it up until it was at eye level with him. The alien choked, grabbing at Vok'Rul's hands, but probably knew that it was futile to struggle, considering it did little else but plead with the taller alien. Its feet barely scraped the floor.

Vok'Rul snarled at it viciously, baring his teeth in a ferocious grimace and shaking the alien a little. Viktor blinked in surprise. All he knew from Vok'Rul was kindness. He looked around, slightly alarmed, but none of the other aliens in the room even seemed surprised at the sudden show of violence.

Vok'Rul growled something at the alien, and the alien immediately started talking, nodding and shaking its head in turn to whatever Vok'Rul was asking. Vok'Rul's teeth had never seemed larger, so close to the whimpering alien's throat. Eventually, it seemed that the taller alien got his answers because he let go of the alien, letting it crumple to the floor.

He gestured with disgust toward the alien on the floor, and the police swarmed in, hoisting the alien with more force than necessary. Viktor frowned at them.

Vok'Rul returned, and both Rukka and Viktor were grateful when the taller alien carefully took the teenager out of the former's arms. Viktor watched their surroundings from his hold, resting his aching head on his shoulder. It was getting hard to focus on what was happening around him.

His eyes slid shut, listening to the low murmur of heated conversation and shifting bodies as aliens exited and entered the mansion. He was occasionally jostled enough to open his eyes, making a noise of protest, but Vok'Rul always lulled him back into his half-aware state of consciousness.

Despite his discomfort with being held, in his concussed state, Viktor felt that he'd rather not be anywhere else. Vok'Rul held him firmly but gently. He didn't feel as though there was any real risk of him falling to the ground. Plus, he wasn't sure if he would even want to be alone right now. His headache was all centered in the front of his skull, and every time he opened his eyes, Viktor got incredibly dizzy.

He had only gotten a concussion once as a kid. Running around with only sugar in his veins had caused him to crash facefirst into a sidewalk. Aside from the bruises, he had been alright for the most part. The headache and dizziness had only cropped up a day after the accident. His dad had been nearly out of his mind with worry, though he had hid it well. It had taken him only a week to recover. Viktor could only hope he was just as lucky this time.

He didn't have Advil on this planet, though.

He squirmed his arm out from between Vok'Rul's arms and his side, draping his cast over his eyes. He had to fight back the wave of frustrated tears pricking behind his eyes. He missed his dad.

"Kohgrash," he heard Vok'Rul whisper, slightly shifting the human in his arms so that he was more horizontal than anything. The alien whispered a few other words that he hoped meant that would go back to the wing soon. Viktor didn't want to spend any more time out here with a bunch of unfamiliar aliens than necessary.

Something was placed on his stomach, and he flung his arm out from over his eyes, catching whoever was in front of Vok'Rul with his open hand. He recoiled, blinking at the figure. It was Thruul, who looked just as surprised as Viktor. Instead of his face contorting in the familiar way the ringmaster's did when he was annoyed, Thruul smiled.

A little uncomfortable with being so close to Thruul when he was as vulnerable as this, Viktor looked toward his stomach. The papers he had managed to get from the alien were on him. He gathered them up in his hands, tapping them against his stomach to straighten them. Surprisingly, he hadn't gotten any of his blood on them.

They were in a script he didn't know. He didn't even know if there was more than one language on this planet. He desperately hoped not. The words were blocky. Thick strokes of whatever they used for writing scratched frantically in the paper. The paper itself was waxy, and Viktor wondered if it was plant based like most of Earth's paper.

"Kohgrash," Thruul said. Viktor suspiciously looked at him, squinting against his headache.

"What," he said flatly, voice sounding a bit muffled.

"Thruul," Vok'Rul said disparagingly, "neyk. Kohgrash ka to comf." Viktor really needed an English-to-alien dictionary.

Whatever Vok'Rul said made Thruul scoff. He gestured for someone to come over, and Viktor was unsurprised as he watched Rukka come into his field of vision. She looked over at Thruul, asking a silent question. Thruul quickly said something, which made Rukka nod. Viktor felt Vok'Rul wilt.

"What?" he said, curious now. They were obviously talking about him. All three aliens looked down at him, and he shrunk, hunching his shoulders slightly. Vok'Rul waved the others' gazes away, holding him tighter. He hissed something venomously, but neither of them seemed affected by it as that cowering alien had been. "Fine, don't answer me," he muttered to himself, shuffling the papers a bit more.

The aliens argued over his head for a little while. Whatever they said must have convinced Vok'Rul, because Viktor heard him make an annoyed sort of groan. Viktor felt himself be shifted in Vok'Rul's arms, or rather an arm, and saw claws grip the papers he was trying to read. He let Vok'Rul take them without a fight, too tired to do so. It wasn't like he could read them, anyhow.

Vok'Rul brought them over to one of the large ornate couches that couldn't possibly have been bought for any sort of comfort. When he sat down on them, curling his tail over his lap mindfully, the couch had no give whatsoever. Viktor was a little bit glad he was sat on Vok'Rul instead.

And then the bastard put him on the couch beside him. Damn it.

Viktor ran his hands over the cushions for a moment before squinting at Vok'Rul suspiciously. The alien smiled at him, petting his hair back soothingly. His touch was extra light, and Viktor couldn't find the usual disgust and wariness that accompanied any sort of touch he received from aliens. His head hurt, and Vok'Rul's touch soothed it, just a little.

The couch was facing away from the doorway, which made Viktor uncomfortable. Carefully, he managed to stand, leaning heavily on the backrest of the couch and Vok'Rul's side. He peered over the couch, watching as Rukka exited the mansion, only to return a few moments later with a gaggle of aliens and their cameras.

Double damn it. Reporters.

Viktor slid back to his seat as soon as their gazes landed on him. He had to think quickly. He didn't know if this was going to be reported live. It was likely, however, considering they had probably been rolling as soon as they had caught wind of one of Vok'Rul's servants attacking Viktor.

Viktor wasn't sure what sort of news was common on this planet, but any sort of drama with any President or country leader made its way to the forefront of everything rather easily. He had to assume the same went here.

Viktor rubbed his eyes, his headache only increasing with all the thinking he was doing.

If this broadcast was live, there were chances that any other human that had been roped into being a pet could listen in on it. This was his chance to tell everyone something, to let people know what was going on.

But what? What could he say? He was a 16-year-old kid, not some news anchor! Plus, he had a concussion. Thinking was really hard when all he wanted to do was shy away from bright lights, loud noises, and just sleep.

"Do I have to be here?" he asked Vok'Rul, scooting to the edge of the couch in order to jump off. The alien pinched his sweater in between his claws to prevent him from jumping off. Viktor sighed loudly. There goes hiding.

Blinking away some of the dizziness creeping on the edges of his vision, Viktor slumped back into the uncomfortable couch. He watched warily as the news reporters filed in front of them. There were only three of them, along with their camera crew. It made the whole area a bit crowded, though.

Viktor jumped as Rukka sat on the other side of him. She wasn't as close to him as Vok'Rul, and he suspected that she probably knew he didn't like their species all that much, but she was still closer than he would've liked.

Vok'Rul and she began whispering over his head. He tried to tune them out, thinking of a plan instead. But when the news anchors began to speak - too loud in the room for Viktor's comfort, if he were honest - he knew he had to just wing it. Here goes nothing.

***

Vocabulary:

ka to comf: is too ill, or is too sick

kor: stay

neyk: stop, no

rohsh: a friendly greeting, such as hello or hey