In Search of Home

Chapter 59

When they got back to the mansion, Vok'Rul started to have some sort of crisis. He murmured something to Viktor, then started piling all of Viktor's belongings in the center of the office.

"Umm," Viktor said, frowning at the alien. He wasn't messy. If Vok'Rul was trying to make a point about how sporadic his belongings were scattered all over the room, he had another thing coming. "What are you doing?" 

He was piling all of the toys - various sizes of balls, his Rubik's sphere, another color-changing ball that Thruul had gotten him after he had thrown the first one into some soup, and some other stuff - into the center of the room, organizing it swiftly by category. The alien even started to grab his food and water dish, which Viktor quickly grabbed out of his hands, spilling some water over the both of them. 

"Oops," Viktor said sheepishly, reaching forward to wipe the water off his clothes. Vok'Rul grabbed his arm gently, cooing something. He launched into a monologue, speaking seriously to Viktor. Slowly, the alien seemed to realize that he couldn't understand what he was saying because he trailed off with a huff at Viktor's slightly confused expression. 

Vok'Rul gestured vaguely to the pile, saying "neyk," and a few other words. Viktor frowned at the pile, then back at the alien. 

"Are you..." he said, starting to put the pieces together. His voice wanted to waver, but he kept it as firm as he could, "taking my stuff away?" 

Viktor tried to think of what he had done wrong to warrant such a drastic consequence. He couldn't think of anything. And while he knew that Vok'Rul would never maliciously take away his stuff for no reason, the thought still filled him with wariness. 

"Flakmmn," Viktor tried hesitantly, stepping closer to all his stuff. This was his stuff. Granted, some of it was dehumanizing, like the harness he wore or the obviously designed-for-pets toys, and he would've never even touched them if he were back on Earth. But this, the blanket, his clothing, it was all he had on this planet. He didn't even know where his old Earth clothes were at. Vok'Rul had probably tossed them the first time he had gotten the chance. 

Getting abducted was terrible, and getting thrown into a straw-bedded cell and forced to fight for his survival was even worse. Having stupid toys he never touched unless he was dying of boredom wasn't the worst thing to happen to him, and Viktor could admit to himself that he had grown attached to some of the inanimate objects. It wasn't like he could have an intelligent conversation with anything else! 

"Flakmmn, Vok'Rul," he repeated, shuffling a bit closer to the Rubik's sphere and trying to fish that into his arms. It was a bit difficult to do without spilling the water and his jerky all over the place. "Kohgrash prosh? Mrrh? That's 'mine,' right? Please don't take my stuff." It was all he had.

Vok'Rul made a sad noise, crouching on the floor and pulling Viktor into his arms. Taken by surprise at the sudden grab, Viktor ended up spilling water against the both of them, again. Vok'Rul was squeezing him almost too tightly, murmuring a jumble of words together in quick succession. He kept hearing the word prosh, though so it must not have been about something terrible. 

After the long hug - which had started to get uncomfortable about thirty seconds in, what with two bowls digging into his chest and the water soaking into the fabric of his sweater - Vok'Rul started scattering his stuff back around the office. Viktor sighed in relief, feeling the knot of nerves in his stomach dissipate. At least his stuff wasn't going to be taken. 

He made sure to grab the Rubik's sphere and coloring-changing ball and shove them into the blankets on his bed, though. Just in case. He liked those the best, after all.