The librarian looked alarmed when he caught sight of Vok'Rul. He floundered around the desk for a moment before stepping forward, hands raised in a sign of peace. His words were the exact opposite of peace, however. "Uhh, excuse me, you - wow, I mean, you are huge - oh, sorry. Uh, what I mean to say is that the library probably... won't be able to fit you."

"No worries, book human, I am very mindful of my size," Vok'Rul told him. The librarian stared at him with confusion before looking at Oskar and Viktor.

"Uhh, I can't understand him," he said, a bit sheepishly. "His language is terrifying, did you know that?"

Viktor barely - barely - refrained from outright glaring at the man. "Yeah, I know," he said, a bit more snippy than he usually would speak to strangers. "And what do you mean the library won't be able to fit him? The ceilings are high enough."

And they were. Vok'Rul stood straight, stretching out his limbs like a cat. Their apartment wasn't meant for twelve-foot-tall aliens, so the only place he could stand up straight was outside and at the grocery store they shopped at. The only problem Viktor could see was if the alien started running through the bookshelves with reckless abandon. Which he wouldn't.

The librarian quickly lost his awestruck expression, eyes becoming a bit steely as Viktor's hostility ebbed over to him. "What I'm saying is that I won't allow an alien in my very human library, thank you. If he destroys books with his claws, it'll be brushed off! Who would make the actual alien pay for some library books?"

Oskar stepped forward, settling a hand on Viktor's shoulder. He trembled with the urge to punch this guy in the face. He had a very punchable face. "Sir, he's not some senseless animal." How the tables have turned, Viktor thought. "He just wanted to look at the books."

"Well, he can go look at books somewhere else," the librarian snapped, loudly. The patrons nearby had long since abandoned any courtesy of pretending not to eavesdrop, openly watching their interaction.

"This is a public library," Viktor started, not even really sure why he was insisting in the first place. Maybe it was because Vok'Rul had been so excited to see some. Maybe it was because Vok'Rul would have done the same if their roles were reversed. "And we're the public!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're upsetting the actual public."

"Come, Kohgrash, Kohgrash's sire. It is of no importance to me any longer," Vok'Rul said, a bald-faced lie. Viktor stomped on the urge to whirl around and yell at the alien for submitting to this librarian's unfair wishes, but it wasn't his fault that this guy was - was xenophobic!

The cold air bit at his skin and washed away some of the hot anger coursing through him. "It's not fair," he whispered heatedly to the snow-covered sidewalk. Someone skirted past the trio with wariness in their gaze. He kicked a clump of snow onto the road, watching it slowly melt.

"It is unrealistic to imagine that your entire planet would accept my presence," Vok'Rul said sagely, voice carefully neutral. "You did not know it, but your species fared much the same way."

"I did know," he bit out. "They - They liked to linger in the warehouse, just to watch us."

They had been new, something to look at with open-faced curiosity. Granted, most of their looks had quickly become cruel and sadistic. Viktor's nails scratched against the sleeve of his sweater, feeling itchy underneath his skin, somewhere deeper.

Oskar hummed. At least Viktor hadn't been put on display all the time. Though, he probably would've preferred that over the arena.

"Let's go to the store," Viktor said suddenly, loudly. "We can get books there. And I can teach you how to write or something!"

"I know how to write, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul's voice was now amused. Better than blank.

The stares didn't lessen as they entered the store. It seemed they only increased. They weren't stopped on their way to the back of the store where they kept all the books, but as soon as they lingered, it seemed that everyone took it as their opportunity to approach them.

"'Scuse me," a large man said loudly, walking right up to them as if he knew them. Viktor took a half-step back, trying to ignore the way that his brain offered up possible weaknesses in case he attacked. Oskar looked suspicious but much more welcoming than Viktor. Vok'Rul tilted his head in question. The man looked up at the alien scrutinizingly. "You really kept people as pets?"

Vok'Rul nodded, looking a bit guilty. "Correct. It was quite the mistake."

"He says it was a mistake, though," Viktor translated curtly. He wanted to show Vok'Rul books, not talk about... whatever this man had in mind.

"That's just crazy," the man laughed, scratching his neck in thought. "Why didn't y'all fight back?"

Viktor had lingered on the question, too. When they had been corralled, herded around like animals, they could've overtaken the aliens. There had been many more humans than Vokkrus, and while some of them had been in bad shape due to the ride over, there had been a large number of healthy humans.

But they had been confused, frightened, and overwhelmed. Any sort of resistance would've had to have been thought out, passed around, and then put into action. Only a few would've actually fought back, and Viktor wasn't even sure if he would've been on that list. Probably not.

So, Viktor just gestured to Vok'Rul. The alien was tall and muscular. His tail was pure muscle and his claws were as long as Viktor's fingers. The humans had no chance against them.

Well, Viktor conceded, feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. There was one defense.

The man nodded sagely, connecting the dots. "Well, I would've done somethin'. You ain't catchin' me sittin' back and lettin' the human race be oppressed!"

Viktor's eye twitched.

Eventually, after much posturing, the man left. Viktor turned around and stared at the shelves, not really looking at them. "This was a bad idea," he muttered under his breath. He didn't know how he was going to handle all... this.

"I thought it was quite exemplary. The humans I have met so far are interesting!" Vok'Rul, even though he had just been vaguely threatened and insulted, sounded cheerful. It occurred to Viktor that the alien probably had little opportunity to be insulted to his face. Most of the Vokkrus were frightened and respectful of him.

Their store excursion went a little better after that. Viktor was hyperaware of all the stares they were getting. People just couldn't mind their business, apparently. It put him in a foul mood. This wasn't at all how he expected their time on Earth to go. He missed the relative peacefulness that A1-308 had brought him. Minus all the attacks and kidnappings, of course.

"So many colors!" Vok'Rul cheered, clutching every box of crayons, markers, colored pencils, and paints he could possibly get his hands on. They should've grabbed a cart.

"I told you we have a lot of art," Viktor laughed, feeling the corners of his mouth go up at Vok'Rul's sheer delight.

"I thought you were overexaggerating. But you were not, little one! There are so many colorful things on the walls, on the ceilings, on the floor, everywhere! I quite enjoy it."

"You should see a rainbow," Viktor said.

"What is a... rainbow?"

After Viktor explained, somewhat concisely, what exactly it was, Vok'Rul could not believe it.

"I just don't think it is possible," he sniffed. "I mean, first there is water in the clouds, frozen water on the ground, and now you are telling me light reflects off the water in the sky and makes a pretty, colorful thing? Maybe you are tricking me."

"I'm for real."

"Hmmm..."

"Well, what does that weird, rainbow glass you guys have do, then? Reflect air?"

"Of course not."

"See, then why's it such a big deal -"

"It reflects the crystals given to us by the Spirits in the planet's core."

Viktor spluttered indignantly, reeling.

The walk back to the apartment was pleasant, at least. No one stopped them. They had delegated Vok'Rul to carry all of the supplies they got - along with some books, they had gotten coloring books, enough colors to put Crayola out of stock, and some paper - and the alien was simply delighted to do so. He kept cooing about how small the bags were.

Viktor collapsed on the couch as soon as they got into the warm apartment. He started peeling off his jacket but stopped halfway, suddenly wracked with exhaustion. He was still chilly, and the warm apartment, his jacket, and the soft couch nearly dragged him to sleep.

Vok'Rul plucked him off the couch with a joyful little rumble. Viktor cracked open his eyes to look at the alien in silent question. "You looked pretty cozy."

"Well, why'd you pick me up for, then?" Viktor said, no heat in his words.

"Couldn't help it. Just had to hold you." Viktor rolled his eyes, but he didn't mind all that much. It had been a while since Vok'Rul had carried him around.

"Put my son down," Oskar grumbled from the counter. He was pulling the books out from the bags, neatly stacking them on top of each other.

Coloring was soothing, Viktor soon realized. He could lose himself in the repetitive motions, focusing only on the task at hand. There were no stray thoughts about Vok'Rul's upcoming departure invading his mind with viciousness.

Vok'Rul was perplexed by the idea of coloring books. It made sense, he supposed. Their books were holograms; there would be no way for them to color inside the hazy displays. Art, for them, often happened on paper or canvas, and that was really the extent of that.

"But does it not limit creativity for your hatchlings?" Vok'Rul questioned, tracing one of the pictures - Viktor looked over and he was coloring in a whale - with a blue crayon. They were sprawled on the ground. Viktor was sure the sight was comical. "Following these strict rules?"

"They're guidelines. Plus, they're for like... your motor skills or whatever," Viktor said absently, pressing his colored pencil a bit too hard into the paper and snapping the lead in half. "Damn it."

Vok'Rul flexed his hand, staring at it in a new light. "I suppose you are correct. Nohkka had a hard time grasping writing utensils when we taught her to write."

"Is Nohkka in school?" he asked, sharpening the pencil with a handheld sharpener. It looked like a cat head. He quickly piled the shavings in a neat little bundle on top of a stray piece of paper for easier clean-up.

Vok'Rul hummed an affirmative. "Rukka tells me she is quite the genius, though I am unsure if it is favoritism shadowing her words."

Viktor thought about how Nohkka had been convinced that he was intelligent, in her own way, despite the circumstances and aliens telling her otherwise. "Nah, she definitely is." He'd miss her. His coloring slowed as he thought of everything he'd miss.

The ridges of Vok'Rul's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, making him look quite fearsome. He was staring intently at the whale underneath his crayon, coloring them in however he liked. If he was never allowed back on A1-308, Viktor would never see that same look directed at his paperwork, at his computer. He'd never see Vok'Rul half-asleep on the couch. He'd never see him gaze at Thruul fondly.

Viktor looked at him like it was the last time he'd ever seen him. He memorized every detail of his face. He was glad, suddenly, that Rukka had given him the photo album.

"Will you visit?" his voice was a whisper, barely audible even to him. Vok'Rul looked up. Viktor searched his eyes for any deception.

"I will," he promised slowly. "Perhaps not soon. We will return six months after my departure."

A year. It will have been a year since Vok'Rul had first gotten here to the time Viktor would maybe see him next. Six months felt like a life sentence. He looked down at his paper just to avoid the alien's gaze.

"I will, regretfully, likely not be able to go. I must tend to my people."

That was even worse. Embarrassingly, Viktor felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. He didn't want Vok'Rul to leave. He wanted him to stay here. When did he get to be selfish? When was it his turn to get what he wanted? He never wanted to be abducted, but he had been. He never wanted to get thrown into a ring and fight for his life, but he had been. He never wanted to get adopted by some rich, overbearing alien that would've made his life miserable, but he had been, and it hadn't turned out terrible.

It was childish, demanding his attention like this. Vok'Rul had a planet to run and a Solar System to tend to. He didn't know much of the Galactic Alliance, but he was sure that Vok'Rul had a hand in that, too.

"Okay," was all he could get out past the lump in his throat.

"I am sorry," Vok'Rul whispered to him. Viktor nodded. At least, they'd be able to talk to each other with whatever device Blacksmith and Pedro were cooking up. Hopefully, it wouldn't take them too long to complete.

He couldn't get to sleep that night, no matter how hard he tried. He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. He was slowly becoming familiar with it, but it was nowhere near the aching familiarity of his old room nor did it have the soothing architecture of Vok'Rul's home.

The faint thumping and hum of an ever-dwindling crowd sounded outside their apartment. People had quickly figured out where they had lived, and while they were protected by security and governments alike, they still gathered in the streets to ogle or curse at Vok'Rul. The numbers had slowly lessened as time went by, but Viktor was still uncomfortable with the sheer number of people who seemed to dig into his life.

The interview had sated some people's curiosity, but there were some insistent people out there. Vok'Rul's presence deterred any curious passersby, but they were more likely to question the alien instead, anyway.

Viktor sighed loudly, feeling his throat vibrate with the noise. He shifted in bed, turning to look at the open doorway. It was dark in the hallway, but Viktor could hear his dad's faint snoring if he listened closely. There was no sound from Vok'Rul.

He got up swiftly, fumbling around in the dark for his walker. Walking over to his desk, Viktor flipped the lamp on. It filled the room with a soft yellow haze, buzzing slightly in the quiet atmosphere. The photo album peered up at him. He settled himself on the chair with a little difficulty.

Rukka had left some space blank in the holographic slideshow - which Viktor was determined to fill whenever he figured out how to upload photos to the device. He swiped through the different pictures slowly, a frown marring his face.

Something scraped in the hallway, and Viktor flinched in fright even as he twisted in his chair to get a better look.

"Hello," Vok'Rul said in a whisper, smiling sheepishly. He gestured toward the box he had accidentally kicked along the floor. Even weeks into their new apartment, they couldn't find out a place for some stuff to go. Thus, along the walls.

"Hey," Viktor responded, turning back to the photo album. "Can't sleep?"

Vok'Rul didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Viktor knew that both of them struggled with sleeping, even though the alien claimed they simply needed less sleep than humans. Well, they did, but Viktor had caught Thruul looking at Vok'Rul disapprovingly once or twice whenever the alien would crack a yawn.

The thought soured his mood even further, and he frowned more deeply at the pictures.

Vok'Rul's claws brushed against the back of his head, and Viktor leaned toward him. "What has you frowning so?" he said, then lighter, "I thought these pictures were rather good."

"They are," Viktor reassured the alien. They were. They just reminded him of what he'd miss. "I guess - I dunno."

In the handful of sessions he had with Dr. Kraff, the man told him to acknowledge his feelings but not to force them out and away. People with PTSD - and Viktor balked at the diagnosis when he had been given it - tended to turn their feelings inward when they had no one to speak to, and while Viktor had plenty of people to talk to, he often found himself biting his tongue. It was hard to talk about.

"What if..." he hesitated. "I never get better?" What if I'm stuck like this, forever?

And he wasn't talking about just the PTSD. His legs were getting stronger every day, and so was his voice, but he was terrified of waking up one day and being unable to move. He was terrified that he'd always jump at the sound of something scraping against metal, of metal gates sliding shut, of echoing animal noises.

He didn't know if he could handle going to sleep every night and waking up in a sweat because the ringmaster had loomed over him, threatened him, and hurt him. The only Vokkrus he had seen lately was Vok'Rul, but he didn't know if he could look at anyone who was the same shade as Nhafka or Turrkn or Zorrash and not feel sick to his stomach.

He wanted to get better. He didn't want to be like this for the rest of his life, but he was realistic. If he went back to A1-308, it would take him forever to heal.

"When I was younger," Vok'Rul said quietly, pressing the pads of his fingers into Viktor's skull. "I was rather small." Viktor tried to imagine Vok'Rul smaller than he was now. He couldn't. "My mother..."

Viktor could feel the grimace Vok'Rul made. He didn't like talking about Korrashkka, either. He could still feel her claw in his hand, sometimes.

"Well, my mother was not too pleased with my size. She would tell me that I was useless. Not as good as Rukka," he laughed sardonically, and Viktor frowned at the photo he had paused on. In the photo, Vok'Rul had his back turned to the camera, crouched on the ground and arms spread. Viktor could see himself in front of the alien, half grinning and half laughing. "It took me a while to convince myself that I was not."

"I'm sorry," he said guiltily. "You didn't deserve that." He tore his eyes from the photo to look up at the alien. His face was solemn.

"There's no need for that," he said gently. "I am simply stating that it'll take time. And as much as I detest to say it, you cannot do that on my planet."

Viktor's breath left him in an explosive rush. Hearing it from Vok'Rul made it that much more real. Hearing it from Aiko had been one thing, but Vok'Rul? No, Viktor felt like the world was going to crumble from beneath his feet any second.

"Says who?" he warbled, trying and failing to stop the hurt from leaking into his voice.

"Turn around," Vok'Rul requested. Viktor did so, feeling his hurt ebb away into muddled confusion. The alien looked at him for a moment before he flung out his arm, slamming his claws onto Viktor's desk.

Despite the fact that he knew Vok'Rul would never hurt him, Viktor still flinched, bringing his arms up. His mouth reflexively opened into a snarl, and if he had better control over his feet, he'd be upright and ready to fight.

"What the hell was that for?!" Viktor hissed, dropping his arms and glaring at the alien. He only looked mildly apologetic.

"You act like an animal," Vok'Rul told him. "Despite my best efforts, my people will still treat you like an animal. They will bring you harm and ridicule. They will not care I have declared you a lord, because, in their eyes, you are nothing but a feral beast."

Viktor frowned at him, relaxing back into his chair. "Thanks," he said dryly, trying to get his heart under control. "I'm crazy and animal-like. Thanks for letting me know."

Vok'Rul made a noise of frustration and Viktor twitched, reminded of Nhafka. "That is not what I am trying to say," the alien said quietly. "You aren't crazy, Kohgrash. You are just sick. It is not a sin to be sick, but others will believe you are lesser for it. They will think you weak, and I do not want that for you. You cannot heal in a place where you are constantly waiting for someone to attack you."

Viktor knew that. In the back of his mind, he had always known that. He hadn't wanted to admit it out loud, though.

"I cannot care for you there," Vok'Rul continued in a whisper. His claws settled lightly on Viktor's knees as the alien crouched on the ground. "We do not have human doctors, human-sized furniture, human food, human anything. It will take a little while to get that settled. You deserve to be somewhere that is able to take care of you. Your sire will do that for as long as you allow him."

They looked at each other while Viktor struggled to find the words he wanted to say. "I owe you a lot, Vok'Rul," he said in a whisper.

Vok'Rul's face contorted, and the grip he had on his knees tightened, just a fraction. "No," he said urgently. "You do not owe me a thing, my little Kohgrash. You are my friend. I care for you. Like you told Rukka, friends do not owe each other, remember?"

Viktor nodded, but he still couldn't get over the fact that if it weren't for Vok'Rul; he'd likely be dead. He probably wouldn't have even been buried. "You won't forget about me, will you?" he asked hesitantly. Vok'Rul's claws left his knees to cup his face instead.

"Never," the alien promised, a steely look in his eyes. Viktor nodded once.

***

A/N: The home stretch. If you've made it this far, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my story and enjoying it so thoroughly :) I'll post the last chapter later tonight and the epilogue first thing tomorrow morning <3