Archive of Our Own ^beta

The walls are quiet at night, not a sound, not a movement. They are cold, still and calm. He knows, he can feel it all although his vision is blurry as if he were under water. But he can still hear, he can still shiver, he can still question and scream. But he doesn't. 

Sometimes he lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Why do the walls look so stained and old? Why is everything so grey ? Everything except the small part of the outside world behind the small window. He's never seen it's shapes; the shapes of the world that he's never been allowed to set a foot in, not a single detail, but to be honest; it never really bothered him. As long as the colors were there - the other colors than all these shades of grey - he didn't care about the shapes and details at all. He didn't care about the definitions. He would just stare into that bright pink and purple and all its variations as the seasons changed and somehow; he would feel happy. But then they blocked the view and in the early morning of the next day, they dragged him into another room. 

He just lies on his back these days and nights, staring up at the ceiling again, trying to remember how the outside colors used to look like. It is his own fault that he ended up in a room with no windows, he is not going to dwell on it. Well, he shouldn't , at least. Maybe they will let him go back one day, if he's good. That's a naive thought, a stupid wish. He tries to remember how many days have passed but he can't. Time makes no sense here anymore. And neither do his thoughts, apparently. 

It's strange, really. Every single thing about this place. The gentle, cruel way it's walls just curl up into each other at the end of the hallways. The circles, the shapes, everything. He wants to find it beautiful. He wants to find it exciting. But he has never in his whole life been brought into the halls for long enough time to study this stuff. And even if he had been, hell, he would still be practically blind. He has no idea how the halls look like, or whether their walls really curl up into each other. How the hell would that even look? His mind is a mess. But it's a mess by every right. 

They used to teach him how to read when he was younger and it took them quite some time until they realised that his eyes don't work right. The guards have always been kinda stupid, he knows that very well but it's just another good-for-nothing information because dumb doesn't mean vulnerable . And in this case, it doesn't mean the same at all - it more like means the very opposite. 

There's too many of them and althought most of those morons are equally fucking stupid, it doesn't solve anything. It's not like it would make escaping this place any easier. 

Hell, he doesn't even know how the outside world works, not to mention that he wouldn't be even able to see it properly, he would just get himself killed at the first opportunity. No, escaping is kinda out of question here. He tried that once or twice already and the only thing he'd gained from that were bruises and scars. He still has three of them on the back of his neck. 

Escaping is a bad, impossible idea but what else is there to do? He doesn't have any tools, any stuff at all, he doesn't have anyone to talk to, though there are surely other creatures trapped inside these walls, too. He would talk but his captors would never let him and if he tried to kick up a fuss, they would come and beat the living hell out of him. He's not going to risk that again. So he's left with very little to grasp on, to think about and so he just lies and stares and dreams about how the walls would have looked like if they were purple instead of this fucking ubiquitous grey. 

That, however, suddenly changes one night. He doesn't know if it's a good change or a terrible one, but someone is screaming. the irken guards must be torturing that creature. The screams are so loud and then so throaty and it keeps happening every damn evening. That is, ofcourse, if it even is an evening, there's still no way to tell the exact time. This place is so fucked. 

He tries to avoid the sounds most of the time. Not because he feels bad for the person making them, he's not really sure what exactly he feels, if anything at all, but he doesn't really think about that either.

There's one little thing about this situation, about the screaming. It doesn't sound desperate. It sounds angry. That creature, whoever that is, is not broken even after nearly two weeks, if not more. It gives off a little unknown spark, lighting up something much more powerful, much more dangerous . 

There must be a reason for all of this, right? He doesn't know much about how normal children are treated, but it's certainly not like this. This is not an orphanage. This is a prison.

He's not even a child anymore, although he's not really sure about his age. He tried to ask, he never got an answer. All he could do was to assume, take a guess and somehow figure out that he's most likely already an adult, because he really doesn't feel like a child anymore. If he ever has, ofcourse. 

He doesn't know anything and sometimes it drives him mad, it makes him miserable and desperate. He wants to understand as much as he wants to crush this place to dust, to kill every single one of those who ever laid a finger on him. It makes him so angry he feels like he might explode but all he does is lay on the bed or on the floor, not moving a muscle, staring into the void with those big haunted eyes and hot sweat on his forehead. His anger paralyses him, he cannot move, he cannot breathe. Was that their intention? To do this to him? To make him like this? But why? 

It never made any sense to him why he was being punished. For what he was being punished for. It just once again made him despise the ones who raised him. 

There are dreams, really strange dreams he never talks about, never mentions to anyone. He fears them,those dreams, although he fears the irken soldiers a bit too. 

The dreams are wild and violent. Ah, he doesn't really know what the wildness is but he thinks of it as of the chaos, of the ability to fly and break the air itself, to fight the sky and the sun. He doesn't remember how the sun light looks, nor how it feels, not even the sun itself, but he knows that it's somehow round and shiny and everywhere and that's enough. That's enough. God, everything about him is associated with rage. Even the things that are supposed to be beautiful. He just wants to fly and make the whole universe crumble under every wave of wind he makes. And in those dreams, he does. Everything has this soft, red tone. His own vision is red but god, he sees, and then the red disappears, it doesn't take that long. He's so different, he's not paralysed by his own rage, he is free to show it, he's free to manifest and he does and oh he has such a power flowing through his veins. He's just looking at everything around him. Everything that's been denied and forbidden for him all his life, he finally sees it all and then he wakes up back into the blurry and gray reality and he hates it, for it is the most unfair and cruel thing he's ever experienced. 

All he can do is think - they cannot rob him of that, of his thoughts. He must stay sane at any cost because sanity , in this case, means survival. It means future. It means hope. And so he lays on his back and thinks about the universe, about the colors, about all the things that are yet to come, staring at the ceiling, calling up to the sky he doesn't see but still dreams about. And the screaming continues. 

He closes his eyes and listens like he's trying to desensitize himself by it. He just lets the screams fill his ears, hoping that if it lasts long enough, he might as well become numb enough to fall asleep. It doesn't work. It never really does. Hell, he still has no idea what this is about, he just covers his ears after a while and curls up into a ball. Fuck , why is this hurting him all of the sudden? 

The hallway is suddenly filled with echoing steps, getting closer and closer to his cell. Oh lord, are they coming for him?

It raises another little question in his mind, the one he keeps asking over and over without ever getting an answer; why? He didn't do anything wrong this time, or did he? 

He stands up, getting himself as far away from the door as possible, knowing that it's not gonna be of any help in the end. They're gonna drag him out of here anyway. 

Two irken soldiers open the door, looking at the boy inside the room with such indifference in their eyes. He stares back at them, his expression burning with hate and rage. 

"Get a hold of yourself, we're not going to hurt you," says the taller irken and steps forward into the cell. 

"Why are you here?" growls the boy, his voice and body shaking. Not getting an answer again only makes him go into even more defensive mode.

The soldiers are coming closer and closer, seeming ready to beat him down once again if he causes any trouble - it freaks him out. They reach out to him and that's where things start going so fast. 

It's a strange feeling, really. Almost like an out of body experience but he is present the whole time, he knows and realises every action, every move and step he takes. It feels unreal. 

There is more screaming but it's not that person anymore. It's the two guards, now desperately trying to alert the others because apparently something went really wrong. He pushes into them violently, breaks them apart from each other and shoves them out of the entrance, both into the opposite direction. They hit the walls of the cell, falling to the floor with a choked cough. 

"Send the reinforcements! Send them right now!" is the last thing he hears from them as he's running down the hallway, shutting the door of his cell behind him, trapping the soldiers inside of that windowless room. 

He feels like he's dreaming. Fuck. It's exactly as if he were dreaming. The red, the energy, the clear vision!

He runs like his life depends on it and well; it does. He feels the air in his hair from all the speed, he sees the grey blended with his own red. The pressure is suddenly gone, the anxiety is gone, there's just something pure and clear and wild inside of him, surrounding him. He hears his heartbeat, his blood rushing through his veins and he suddenly feels so alive . No, he's not dreaming. This is real. He has finally snapped out of everything. 

There is no time to think now. There is no time for literally anything else than this. 

And so he runs, not stopping at anything. The other soldiers are trying to block his way but he finds himself being actually faster than their bullets, his reflexes sharp and movements so rough and a bit clumsy yet effective and accurate. He kicks, he punches. He has so much strengh inside of him, he breaks the whole fucking wall down and gives off a loud, furious roar, echoing through the entire building. 

There's a fire behind him, more and more soldiers running his way and he's ready to act but then his hand gets grabbed. 

"Follow me," says the irken, loud enough for the human to hear him despite the irken's voice being hoarse. And the young man does, not really thinking about what the fuck he's doing, running off with one of those disgusting bugs like that, but he does. They both start running, hand in hand. the irken leads the way, he drags the human with him, grasping his hand tightly in his claws and then the human suddenly pulls away, freeing himself from the grasp, beginning to turn into another direction. He changed his mind. He can't trust anyone, under any circumstances. 

The irken is all bruised and bloody, his clothes are torn apart. He's not a soldier, the human can clearly see that. He's a prisoner but there's still no fucking way he's trusting an irken , soldier or not. No, he's going to break out of here on his own. 

But then his hand is being grasped again, tighter this time. 

"I'm trying to get us both out of here alive you bloody piece of shit so quit your bitching and follow my lead," the irken snarls, showing off his sharp teeth, few of them missing. The human wants to protest but before he can, they're surrounded by soldiers again, all of the potencial escape ways blocked, and while the irken yells something like 'great, fucking great!' the human - if he actually even is a human - leaps. He's in the air, not really knowing how, not caring or thinking about it right now. He sees the irken's jaw drop a little from the corner of his eye. 

He kicks the first soldier right between the eyes with a full force. And from that moment on he completely loses himself to his own raging fire until there's a ground under his feet and his hand in the grasp and they're running again. The irken has a gun now, his aiming skills appear to be no less than brilliant as he shoots one of the soldiers that's getting too close right through the forehead. 

They run through the hallway, getting close to it's end and though the irken plans to turn them to a side and continue running down the stairs until they reach the main entrance, the human takes the lead this time, much to irken's horror. They're running straight against the wall now. Then one of the soldiers shoots and the human gasps and cries out but not stopping, even for a second. His shoulder is wounded from the behind, the bullet stuck in the bone and it hurts but due to all of the adrenalin it doesn't hurt as bad as it could. There will be a time for that later, if there's going to be any. The irken looks terrified, trying to pull off but not being able to. Fuck , they're going to die here but then the human breaks the wall, once again, creating a dusty hole, letting all the light inside. And before the irken manages to protest, the human jumps and drags the other with him. 

It's a first leap into the unknown, into the wild. Such a twist of things: an hour ago he still believed that he's going to be trapped here for the rest of his life. Now look at him. 

The irken is furiously screaming, terror written all over his face, until he realises that they're not falling; they're flying. That is, obviously, a small bizarre miracle on the human's side. No, he is not a human. He's able to fly all of the sudden, for god's sake. Kinda like he did before with the guard but now? Now he's flying really fast. And while the irken holds onto him in slight horror of falling down, the other boy - whatever he is - just flies with his eyes closed, trying to ignore the growing pain until he cannot anymore. He lets out a pained cry and stumbles in the air, making the irken scream again. 

"Hold on, hold on, stay awake!" 

Fuck, they are going to crash like that, they're already falling down. The prison is not that far and the soldiers are surely already after them and fuck, fuck, this is bad. the irken shoots his PAK legs out; although they're looking more like weird long tubes , preparing himself for landing. And then he lands right on top of the ship that appears beneath him just at the right moment. He drags the other - now unconscious - boy inside, then closes the entrance and jumps into the pilot seat.

"Took you long enough," says the ship. 

"Took you long enough," says the irken in an irritated tone of voice, and with that they fly away, leaving this planet behind. 

The ship has pretty dull colors and is pretty small too. The pilot seat, the control panels, the walls, everything has this faded tone of mulberry but at least it's finally some other color than gray. No more gray, ever. 

The human wakes up with a groan. The pain is horrible, his vision is blurry again, he doesn't know where he is. His breathing becomes quicker and heavier. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You still have a bullet stuck in your arm," he hears while he's trying to get up. 

"W-wha-" 

"Do you remember anything from before?" 

Huh, that's a good question, isn't it? He would maybe even think about it if he weren't in such excruciating pain right now. 

"Yeah, I think so." He replies. 

"Interesting," says the irken. "I suppose that I will leave the rest of the questions after we get your wound treated. But well, at least you don't bleed all over the place anymore."

The human doesn't answer that, settling the uncomfortable silence between the two of them. He has many questions in his mind, he's just partly not used to asking them, partly passing out again from the pain and the blood loss. Hell, does he even have any blood left? His body feels so weak. He reaches with his hand to his shoulder to gently, carefully touch it. To his own surprise, he finds a bandage there. His shirt is missing and he should be cold now but everything feels so warm. He wants to ask the irken for his name and he could swear that he's really asking but only a few quiet mumbles manage to leave his mouth. And then he sleeps again. The irken only shakes his head. 

The other planets are not so far from Irk - the place they escaped a few days ago. The human slept the whole time and now he sleeps again. It's not like the irken minds that but he has a lot of questions, he's confused about many, many things. His own wounds still hurt, he's going to need some treatment too but landing anywhere is going to be very risky from now on. Whatever the sleeping creature in his backseat is, he has a feeling that it's somehow important to the authorities. They're going to be looking for them. A part of him already regrets taking the human with him.

He has to risk it, the landing, because the human is most likely dying at the moment. He has a fever, he whines and grumbles quietly even in his sleep. the irken doesn't really know why he's saving this creature, he's never done such a thing before. But well. He probably owes him that, in a kind of way. 

"Ship, show me the map," he says, leaning forward in his seat. 

"If you're wondering if there are any planets that are within our reach right now and are not under the influence of the empire, there are not." Says the ship, showing the map anyway.

"Zoom out then."  

"It would take days or even weeks to get into another sector. You don't have that much time." 

"Zoom the fuck out, ship," the irken snarls, clenching his fists. 

" No. We need to land as soon as we can."

"And get our asses arrested! Yeah, great plan!"

The ship groans, then begins to search for something, making scanner-like noises along the way.

"What are you doing?" the irken asks tiredly. 

"Scanning the media, checking the reports," says the ship. "Nothing is there. If they're looking for you, they're keeping the whole thing a secret."

"That wouldn't make the situation any better!" 

The ship groans again. "We're landing on planet Floox, we'll be there in a few minutes. Please be reasonable about it and try not to yell at me. " 

"Floox? Really? Do they even have hospitals?" 

"Even if they do, it would be of no use since you hardly have any money on you." 

"I could always sell you," the irken grins.

"Well, yes, but then you would find your ass stuck with no chance of an escape. You would be fucked. So maybe think about that?" 

"Ugh." 

"You will have to go with the amateurs. " 

Right. Amateurs. the irken closes the map with a frown. Oh god. Amateur doctors, pulling a bullet out of a probably infected wound. He turns his head, looking at the passed out human with a slight concern in his berry colored eyes. Oh boy. 

Floox is very different from Irk. It's colours are mainly green in many shades and variations. The planet basically serves as a sewer for toxic waste.

"Hey, hey, wake up," says the irken, slapping the human's face gently. Then not so gently when the human is still not waking up. 

"Agh, uh, what?" Says the boy, his voice weak and sleepy. 

"We're here, we're gonna get help," the irken replies nervously. "Now come on." 

The human is not able to walk. Hell, he is not even able to stand. the irken tries to drag him on his feet but ends up carrying him in his arms in the end. The boy is only half awake, his skin boiling to the touch. 

The ship landed near one of the medical cabins, pointing them into its direction. Now they're almost there. The cabin looks old and stained. It also looks like it's about to fall apart. The irken kicks into the metal door since he can't knock, still holding the human close to his chest. No response. He kicks the door again. After a few moments, a little blue creature appears, opening the door, scanning the two newcomers with its eyes. Whoa, what is a Vortian doing here? 

"Come in," says the Vortian after what feels like an hour of very uncomfortable silence, stepping aside from the doorway. 

The cabin looks more like a family house, it's not anything like a hospital at all . It's so dirty and shabby everywhere.

"This way," says the Vortian, leading them into a small room with a long metal table standing in the middle. 

"Lay your friend here," he says, patting his hand against the table. 

the irken does so, then steps back. "He got shot. The bullet is still inside, it got stuck."

the Vortian nods, taking the bandage off.

"Yeah, it's pretty badly infected. " He says, putting a pair of white gloves on. "To be honest, I've never seen anything like him. What species is he?"  

"I don't know, he never told me," the irken says, trying to sound like he actually knows the human for more than a few days. He doesn't want to raise suspicions, to draw any attention to themselves. No one has to know. "Is it important?"

"Well, it's always good to know at least something about the anatomy of the one you're about to operate on." 

"Operate?" 

"Yes. I'm gonna have to cut the bullet out. And well, I don't want to mess his arm up, he might end up losing it for good." 

"Oh." Well fuck this. But what other choice is there? This has to be done, right? Unless- "Is there any alternative to this?" 

"To the operation?" the Vortian asks. "There isn't. He would die of sepsis."

the irken shighs, then pulls a small bag out of his pocket, landing it over to the Vortian. "Will this do?"

the Vortian hums, looking inside a bag, finding a fistful of coins in there. "Yeah, this'll do."

"Okay, good." the irken replies, feeling a little relieved. At least something went well. 

the Vortian puts a pair of weird looking goggles on, tying an apron behind his back, looking more like a butcher than a doctor. "I'll have to ask you to leave now. I should be done in two hours, so return around that time." 

Two hours. The irken goes back to the ship, looking at the backseat that is now almost completely covered in blood. How the hell he's gonna clean that up, he has no idea. Maybe he could go find something to eat instead of sitting inside the ship the whole time but damnit he has no money anymore. What a revelation, this whole plan is one enormous bullshit anyway. It's not like the irken cares. It's not like he has anything left to lose. ' What the fuck did I get myself into this time?' he asks himself, shaking his head, burying his face into his knees.

Planet Floox is disgusting, it stinks, but well; it's hardly the fault of its native inhabitants. It probably used to be a completely different place before. the irken wonders, looking out of the window. It's starting to rain, he wouldn't dare to stick a foot outside now. Even much less intoxicated water would burn his skin off and he doesn't heal as well and fast as the others do . 

Lots of planets around this sector used to be different before the Empire took them. Now everything around here is like.. this. Although not as toxic and green and stinking as this planet, but well, the point taken, right? 

Now might be a good time to think of a plan, to come up with at least something , to feel like this whole thing is actually under control. Even if it isn't.

Are they looking for them? Why is everything so quiet? God, he's really letting his own melancholy get a hold of him this time. The two hours pass surprisingly fast.

When the irken returns to the cabin, he finds the human half awake and shaking, his face stained with tears, looking miserable. He takes his eyes off of him. He doesn't want to see this. 

"He's fine," says the Vortian. "He shouldn't be moving around much during the next few weeks though. I gave him some painkillers, he's gonna be a bit groggy for now but after that wears off, he should be okay."

"Thank you. For treating him," says the irken. 

"No problem. One more thing, though, before you leave." 

the irken gulps, then looks over at the human, then back at the Vortian. "Yes?" 

No, this can't be anything bad. How could he know? It's gonna be something stupid, unimportant. Fuck, the irken should really calm down, stop freaking out. The human is awake now. Weak, tired, but awake and alert as well and that fact alone makes the irken want to run away right now. Or fight. But no, no, it's going to be alright, this still could be-

"Your friend here," says the Vortian pointing at the human. "He has a prison mark. A number tattooed on his arm."

the irken gulps again, not sure what to say. Oh god, oh fuck. "Yeah," he begins. "We met.. as inmates. Moo-Ping 10." 

the Vortian raises one of his eyebrows. "Moo-Ping 10 has different tattoos." 

Oh fuck, oh fuck. 

"Well.. maybe you're just.. remembering it wrong?" 

the Vortian barks out a laugh, then smirks, pulling one of his sleeves up. "I think I know very well what the Moo-Ping 10 marks look like." 

The irken stares at the blue tattoo on the Vortian's arm with pure terror in his eyes. Fuck. He's going to turn them in.

"And that bullet," the Vortian says. "It's an irken bullet as well. What is your deal?" 

"We're just trying to leave, just let us leave and we can forget abou-"

"Are you rebels?" 

"What?" 

Oh god, would that be good or bad? the irken tries to think about it quickly, figure the heck out what to say before-

"I've never seen an irken in the resistance against the Empire before! " the Vortian says, excitement in his voice. 

" We should.. we should really go," the irken whispers. What the fuck ? 

"You were imprisoned on Irk, right?" the Vortian continues, now talking directly to the human. For some reason, it makes the irken freak out even more. 

"And you broke out," the Vortian says in slight disbelief. "How did you-" 

"Yeah, we do not have time, we need to leave. Now." the irken snarls, standing between the Vortian and the human. 

"Are they after you? Ah, of course they would-" 

And with that, the irken rises, using his PAK legs. The top of his head is pressed up against the ceiling. Fuck, he's really about to lose it. If he hasn't already. The vortian tries to yell something but one of the PAK legs knocks him down to the ground. The irken is looking like the death itself, his eyes almost glowing in the dark of the room. He broke the lights, tearing them down, smashing them. Then the Vortian gets up, grabbing some sharp tool and stabbing it through the PAK leg. He's trying to bring the irken to his level. At this point, neither of them knows what's happening and even less what the fuck are they doing. The human is unable to move, watching the whole scene, feeling like falling asleep again. He's too numb to pay any attention.

The irken fights like a wild animal. He's not even sure if it's the panic, or anger, or frustration, he doesn't care, he just wants to get out of here. But the Vortian fights as well and even though he's quite small, he's not by any means unable to knock the other down as well . the irken ends up on the floor, the Vortian on the top of him, holding him down with his knees, making everything hurt. The irken tosses a few times with whatever strength he has left, then kicks the Vortian off of him, sending him flying across the whole room, then jumping over the operation table. The vortian jumps up as well, lending on the irken's chest, strangling him. They both fall over the table.

"Change!" Yells the irken, turning his face to the human who is being squeezed by the irken's PAK at the moment. "For the love of god change into that thing, you useless- arghhh!" 

"I can't," the human breathes out. "I can't!" 

The irken kicks the Vortian off of him one more time, grabbing the human around the waist, lifting him up. "Let's go, oh lord!" 

They can't break through the wall this time, the irken doesn't have that much strength,  so he runs for the main door instead, throwing the Vortian away every time he gets too close. Once they get outside, out of the cabin, the irken suddenly stops, turning around, facing the horrified flooxian. 

"One last thing," he says in a breathy, scary voice. And then he knocks the Vortian out, taking back the little bag he gave him before. He's gonna need that money. And then he sprints towards his ship, with the human still in his arms and in the next moment, they're taking off. And the cabin falls apart, set ablaze  

Both of them are shaking, mostly the irken. He hasn't really grasped the reality of what the fuck happened yet, he's just sitting there, shaking and panting.

"I don't think he wanted to hurt us," says the human after a while, snapping the irken out of his inner word salad. 

"You think?" the irken snarls. 

At this point, the human is still way too numb to hold a conversation, so he just shrugs. He shouldn't talk anyway. Not about this. He still doesn't understand anything. No. He will have to wait a bit for that. the irken doesn't waste a minute; he sets a course for the shortest way out of this bloody sector, away from the Empire, and then he drifts to sleep. He's still wounded, after all. Maybe he should've asked the Vortian to treat him as well before he destroyed the whole place, but what does he know? He is going to run now anyway. As he always does. 

There's no way to tell if it's a night or a day. Perhaps it's neither, there are only stars and blackness. It's not that much different from the place the human came from. Although he's living his first days of freedom now, it doesn't feel like freedom at all. He should be concerned about what is to come. And he will be, after he wakes up. But for now, he lets all of these things drift away, falling asleep. The pain is not that bad. But when he wakes up, it is. Fuck, the drug wore off. 

The irken wakes up a few minutes later, finding himself face to face with the human who's leaning over the backrest, staring at him. They both scream, scaring the crap out of each other. The human throws himself back into his seat, the irken falls off of his, getting stuck for a moment before he drags himself back up. 

"What the fuck!" The irken yells. 

"Greetings!" Says the human, brushing his hair with his fingers, looking nervous. 

"You startled me," says the irken. He sounds somehow calmer now than a moment ago. 

"I know," the human replies. "Wasn't my intention though. Sorry about that." 

The irken scans him with his eyes, resting his sight on the bandaged arm. "How's the wound?" He asks. 

"Painful, but well.. good, I suppose." Now they're both staring at each other, not knowing what to say next, feeling a bit awkward. 

"What are you?" The irken finally breathes out. That question was bugging him for days.

"What?"

"What are you?" 

"Uh, well I.. uh. I don't know?" The human says, sounding very nervous. 

"You don't know," the irken repeats quietly. Another minute of complete silence follows. 

"I don't know," says the human. 

"Yeah, right, okay.. alright." They're both avoiding the eye contact, looking into different directions. 

"Yeah, I don't know, okay?" 

"Yeah, sure, whatever." 

" Oh my god, you both sound like you've never in your lives talked to another person," growns the ship, making both of them jump a little. 

" God I always forget you're there," the irken grunts.

"I'm not lying!" Yells the human.

"Why were you imprisoned, then?" the irken asks. 

"Why were you imprisoned?" The human answers. The irken frowns at that. 

" Oh, those are some brilliant communication skills, I bet-"

"Shut the hell up, ship!" the irken snaps out. He's still tired, his wounds still hurt. He has no energy to deal with this now. 

"I can tell you my name," says the human after a while.

"Well, then tell me your name." 

"Zib. And yours?" 

The irken shighs. "Two."

The truth is that he doesn't give a fuck about names. It's not like it matters. But at least they don't just stare at each other anymore  

"Two? What kind of name is that?" 

"What kind of name is Zib? It sounds fucking dumb." 

"Well," says Zib, "that's how your people named me. So yeah. It truly is fucking dumb, as you said . " 

"The Empire and I have nothing whatsoever in common." 

"You're all so green." 

Wait a minute. Wait a minute!

" My people named you?" Two asks suddenly. He more like blurts the question out. Fuck, this might actually finally lead to getting at lest some kind of an answer. 

"Yeah," Zib replies, shrugging. "That's what I said" 

"You were raised by irkens?" 

"I wish I wasn't." 

" Why were you imprisoned?" 

'Wow, you're really desperate for answers, aren't you?" Zib laughs, crossing his arms, grunting a little. The pain is still a real thing. Two looks like he's about to lose it again. 

"Just.. just answer the question." He snarls.

"I don't know. I grew up inside that building. No one ever bothered to tell me why." 

They spent the next few hours in silence. Again. Zib is looking through the window and although he doesn't really see anything except blurred blackness and starlight, it still feels like a dream. Two is watching him. Not the entire time, but still. It's not like the human would notice it.

"If you intend to just stare at me the entire time, you might as well just spit out whatever's on your mind." 

Well, guess that judgement was wrong.

"Why are you.. squinting all the time?"

"Take a guess." Zib answers without even looking away from the window. 

"I don't know," says Two. God, the human is insufferable. "Look, I really get that you don't like me, but-"

"No," says Zib. "You really don't." 

"Don't interrupt," grunts Two. "Yes. I am an irken, however that doesn't mean that I belong within the Empire. Because I really don't. So maybe think about that and stop acting like a blind idiot, okay?" 

"Oh, a blind idiot you say?" 

"Fucking hell, don't tell me that you are-" 

"Well, almost blind, truth be told" says Zib, interrupting again. 

Two would complain about that, he would argue, he would throw insults around but he's starting to be a bit done with everything at this point. "I don't know why I'm even putting up with you," he says. 

"Hm." 

"You don't act like a blind person." 

"Yeah," says Zib. "Because as I said before; that's probably 'cause I'm not . And maybe try to think about whatever offensive shit you're about to say before actually letting it out of your mouth." 

"Oh, are we getting passive aggressive with each other now?" Says Two. 

"Oh I don't know, are we?" 

"Well, maybe you could try not acting like a stupid baby for once, how about that?" 

Zib is about to punch Two in the face, but his pain is a constant reminder that starting any fight right now wouldn't be a wise decision. So he leaves it be, watching the passing stars behind the window with a frown in his face. 

"Yeah, right," Two snarls. "At least you have a sense of knowing when to shut up." 

"Stop acting like i'm the wrong one." Says Zib, finally looking into Two's direction.

"Stop acting like a know-it-all. " Snaps Two. 

"I don't even know what that means." 

"Look it up in a dictionary." Says Two, a mean smirk on his face. Zib is about to punch him once again. 

"I cannot read, asshole." He snarls. 

They stare at each other angrily, fists clenching. Ship manages to keep it quiet, without a word, although she really wants to interrupt. Hell, even the back seats are still blood stained and the windows are dirty. It's been a long couple of days. 

Two breaks eye contact first, turning his back to the human. He lays down, closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. Zib doesn't care, he returns to watching the space, trying not to think too much. Then the ship turns the lights off, leaving both of her passengers in darkness.

This isn't how Zib imagined it going. The freedom. It feels strange and rough, huge and scary and uncontrollable and so, so wild and cold. He still feels miserable and what's even worse; he still feels imprisoned. This was supposed to be the best time of his life, was it not? And yet all he feels is doubt and stress and loneliness. He shakes his head, lying down as well. There's nothing left to do now, he just lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of engines running, the strange beeping and all the foreign sounds around him that the ship makes, slowly closing his eyes, drifting into ucoscuciness. 

He's woken up by harsh slaps. Again. He's shaking and panting, his face all stained by tears. He doesn't remember what exactly he was dreaming about but it clearly wasn't anything pleasant. It's still dark, still quiet, still cold. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down.

"You were screaming," says Two. "It woke me up." 

"Sorry," Zib replies. He's still half asleep. "Bad dreams, you know." He mumbles. 

Two doesn't really know what to say, how to deal with this. He's not used to talking about this stuff. He's not used to traveling with other people. He's not used to anything that's happening right now. 

"Hey," says Zib quietly, looking at the irken, tired expression in his face. "I think we started off wrong. I didn't mean to make you mad, or to insult you, or anything. It's just.. I have a lot going on now, okay?" 

Two takes a shaky breath, looking down at his knees, then back at Zib. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I'm sorry too. For snapping. I'm under a lot of stress now, too."

"Thank you for taking care of me when I was wounded."

"You're still wounded," Two points out. Zib rolls his eyes. "But well," Two says, "you're welcome. Thank you for getting us out of that prison." 

This somehow feels better. Better than fighting. Better than not talking at all. There's a certain kind of softness to it, in their voices, in their expressions. It feels strange.

"I have nowhere else to go," Zib whispers suddenly. 

"I know," replies Two. "You can stay here. Until you find somewhere else to stay."

"I can?" Zib asks. 

"Yeah," Two replies. He has a feeling this is gonna end in tears. Well, who knows. 

Zib smiles a little but it's still dark all around them. Two just stares at him, at his silhouette, smiling back. They sit like that for a while until Zib breaks the silence with a quiet 'thank you'. They're both getting sleepy again. 

"Would you mind if I lowered the seats?" Two mumbles. "It would be more comfortable for sleeping." 

"Yeah, okay. Sounds like a good idea," says Zib. The ship turns the lights on while Two pushes several buttons, transforming the seats into one giant bed. They both lie down on the opposite sides of this little improvised bedroom, having about a meter of space between them. This definitely feels more comfortable than before.  

"Here's a blanket," says Two, throwing the blanket at Zib. It's soft, warm and purple. He huddles himself into it. "Thanks," he whispers, closing his eyes.

"Good night," says Two quietly, huddling into his own blanket as well. The ship turns the lights off again. 

The softness is such a foreign feeling. Zib just lets himself be taken by it, drifting back into sleep. He doesn't fight it. Doesn't need to.

"Good night."

They travel for the next few days. It's really not bad at all, Zib decides. They still argue sometimes, usually interrupted by the ship verbally breaking them apart, but most of the time, they're calm.

"This is so sweet," says Zib, nibbling on one of those snacks that Two stores in a box under the navigation board. "I've never eaten anything this sweet in my entire life." 

"Yeah, they fed you prison meals your entire life, Zib." 

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Zib chokes out. 

"Oh, then maybe you shouldn't have eaten all 12 of them." 

"Don't judge," says Zib, shoving the entire candy bar into his mouth. 

Two shakes his head to that, checking the map. "We'll be landing soon," he says. 

"So, what's the plan?" 

"To clean the ship, clean ourselves, get some food, leave again." 

" Fun." 

"Oh and before we leave," says Two, standing up. "You gotta change into something else." 

"Why?" Asks Zib.

"First; you're wearing my pajamas, and second; it bloody stinks. So yeah, you're gonna have to change into something clean. " 

Oh yeah, that sounds about right. They both have been wearing the same clothes for the past few days. Zib makes a face but doesn't complain, he doesn't dare to . 

"Fair point," he says. 

"I suggest you wear a cape," says Two. 

"Aren't capes like.. your thing?" 

"I have more than just one, Zib." 

"Oh yeah. Alright then." Says Zib. 

Two digs up a cape from the improvised closet that is actually a messy box, stuffed with crumpled clothes. "There," he says, handing it over to the human. Ugh, the cape is grey. 

"God, don't look at it like that," growls Two. "It's able to hide almost all of your big stupid-looking head and that's the effect we're going for here, okay?" 

Oh yeah. The prison break. Zib keeps forgetting about the fact that he's actually still a fugitive. "Aren't there like.. any creatures I could blend in with? That look like me?" He asks. 

"No," answers Two. "Get dressed. We're here." 

The city is enormous. There are giant buildings, everything in this dusty dark yellow. There are also crossroads on land as well as in the air, many lights and sounds and shades. It feels almost overwhelming. 

Two is wearing a purple cape, a hood covering his head, making such contact with everything else here. The purple looks almost bright in the dullness of this city. Zib wonders if there are any places in the galaxy that are not dull. Well, Floox wasn't exactly dull, but ugh, it wasn't anything pleasant-looking either. But who is he to judge? Who is he to complain about the colors. He's glad that he's not face to face with all that gray anymore. God, he hates the grey more than he thought he could ever hate anything. Yet he's wearing the cape as well, blending perfectly with faded colors of the street he's being dragged through right now. They left the ship behind. 

The city has levels, as Two explained. "The higher up you go, the wealthiest levels you pass through until you get to the very top. The capital towers." 

"Oh," says Zib. He doesn't really know what he's supposed to think about that, but he doesn't ask. At least for now. Living inside the ship for those few days made him almost forget how little of the outside world he actually knows. How little he understands. Now he's feeling anxious and small, with the whole unknown world above his head. 

They enter the shower rooms - or at least something that looks like shower rooms, though it looks nothing like the prison ones on Irk. The place is pretty crowded.

"Will you need help?" Asks Two. 

"With what?" 

"Showering, obviously."

"No," says Zib. Two just stares at him for a while. "I know how to shower myself, okay?" Zib snarls quietly. 

"Alright then," says Two with a little smirk on his face. "Suit yourself." 

Zib does not know how to shower himself. He more like doesn't really know how this shower works. So he takes a guess, pushing one of the buttons on the side and in the next second, he's being knocked down by a strong stream of cold water. He screams out in shock. Then the water suddenly stops. Zib is on the floor, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes while Two is standing above him, looking smug. "Are you sure you don't need help?" 

Zib just rolls his eyes, taking Two's hand. 

The warm water is nice, the stream is gentle and so are Two's fingers in Zib's hair. The human still shivers, this place is quite cold, but he finds himself leaning into the gentle touches. God, does he enjoy this? He's never experienced anything like this. It feels so nice.

"How does my arm look?" Asks Zib. 

"Good, it's healing well. Does it hurt now?"

"No." 

"Good then," says Two, standing up. "Well, the rest is on you. Push only the red button so you don't get knocked down to the floor again, got it?"  

"Yeah." 

"And don't lose the soap," says Two, turning his back to the human. 

"Isn't water supposed to be, you know.. hurting you?" Asks Zib. "Something about toxins, no?"

"Yeah, well, they have the water purified here. There are more species on this planet that are sensitive like that." 

"Wow, neat," says Zib. "Uh, is this really for free?" 

"It's not." 

"And.. did you pay?" 

"No." 

"Then how, uh, why-"

"Stop asking questions or we'll end up thrown into the streets naked." 

" Oh, oh.. oh lord."

There's a moment of silence. It doesn't last long. 

"How did we get here then? Like.. did we have to sneak in and-" 

"Oh my god, are you deaf as well as blind?"

" Almost blind," says Zib. "But well.. I mean.. why didn't you pay?" 

"Because, Zib," snarls Two quietly, reaching behind Zib's back to turn the water off, "I am broke as well as hungry and believe me; food is much harder to steal around here, so let's keep the money for that. "

"Fair point."

"And also capitalism and stuff. I don't like it." Says Two. 

Zib nods, feeling slightly confused. He has no idea what capitalism means. 

They make their way through the crowd of half naked aliens back into the street. There are plenty of food stalls around the city. Or at least in this area of it. Two buys a pair of weird looking things on a stick, hands one over to Zib and they continue walking towards the locations where the ship is hidden, quietly nibbling on their food. The ship complains when they try to bring the food inside, then strictly forbids them from doing so. There's really no chance of arguing about that. They throw the sticks out once they're done and then they take off. 

It's almost dark when they land again. It's still the same planet, only not the city anymore. There are trees and lakes instead of giant buildings and towers, although the capital can still be seen in the distance, its towers gently touching the clouds. 

They clean the ship together, then jump into  the grass, lying down next to each other for a moment, staring into the sky. They're not talking but the silence is not uncomfortable like it used to be before, it's not uneasy anymore. It feels somehow natural and calm and something else , neither of them can really reach the definition of it, but that's okay, too. They don't need it anyway, at least not yet. Zib holds Two's hand in his own, gently and lightly. There are no protests, they just lay there with their eyes closed, holding hands until music starts playing in the distance. They cannot see the place from where they are but Two seems to know where it's coming from. He's not here for the first time, after all.

"Do you wanna go?" He asks.

"Didn't you say that we're going to leave right after we get food and clean the ship up?" Asks Zib. 

"Well," says Two, smiling a little. "One night is hardly gonna do us any harm. Come on." 

Zib hesitates for a while. "Alright then," he says. They head into the woods, Two gently taking Zib's hand into his own once again. 

The woods are dark but not not cold, they're warm although a little colder than the exposed meddows. It's peaceful. Everything about this place is so peaceful it takes one's breath away, even more so after so much stress and darkness and traveling through that endless cold space. 

The trees grow in those weird, wiggly shapes, their branches reaching up to the sky. No, from here, the space doesn't look cold. It does look endless, yes, but not cold. Not cruel. It looks beautiful , its colors slowly changing as the twin suns go down, disappearing in the distance. It's the atmosphere of this place, the softness, the gentleness, or maybe it's just the relief. 

They talk as they walk, still hand in hand, partly because Two wants to make sure that Zib won't slip and fall but mostly because he just wants to. Because it feels nice and right and there's no shame in it. Zib suddenly doesn't want to let go of that hand. Ever. And honestly, Two doesn't want to either. They could wander together like that forever. 

And really, it feels almost natural but it also feels strange and new, but not enough for them to be concerned about it. They live in the moment for now, while they still can. 

A lot has changed during those few days, there's suddenly no anger present in their voices, neither terror and worry in their eyes. Everything is different but it's somehow better now, they just haven't really grasped the reality of it yet and honestly, they're not really sure if they ever could because this is the first time, for both of them, and it feels like something that will never happen again and that thought alone is way too terrifying to think about. But they don't think. Not now. That's why they're so calm, after all.

Do they like each other? Hell, that question alone is probably even more terrifying than the previous thought. But it's in the backs of their minds. It's been there for some time now, even though they haven't really acted on it yet. Or like it. There wasn't a right time. Until now. 

But then the music is suddenly loud and the woods are behind them. They reached the village. 

The place is crowded, there are string lights hanging from the roofs and windows, connecting the houses. Something about it feels so cozy, so familiar. 

Two watches the people passing through, he watches the whole place with a soft expression on his face, his thumb gently brushing over Zib's hand. He smiles to himself when he feels Zib doing the same. 

They pass by a few houses and they get to the centre. There are little fires arranged into a  circle with people dancing inside of it, the music coming from the middle. Then Two places his hand on Zib's back, still facing him. 

"What are you doing?" Asks Zib. It doesn't feel unpleasant, he's just not entirely sure what is going on. 

"Dancing." Says Two. "Put your hands on my shoulders." 

"Why?" 

"So I can lead." 

Zib shakes his head. "I've never done this before, I don't know-" 

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm gonna lead." Says Two. 

"I can't see, remember?" Says Zib, putting his hands on Two's shoulders anyway. 

"You can see, Zib." 

"Well, I don't really-" 

Two groans. "Just listen to the music, listen to the rhythm of it," he says. 

They stand there for a while, holding onto each other with their eyes closed. Zib still doesn't know what he's doing, he can't really concentrate on anything either. But he doesn't feel like running away. 

"Relax," Two says quietly. Then he starts tapping his foot to the rhythm of the song. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. "Try it like that." 

The song is pretty fast, it's drumbeat going in a clear rhythmic loop. Zib just repeats whatever Two does, gently tapping the rhythm with his fingers into Two's shoulders as well. They sway together for a while, then the song changes and it's suddenly so energetic and fast and happy and in the next moment, Two is pulling Zib into the crowd, both of their hands clasped together. And the rest happens somehow naturally. 

It doesn't feel like dancing. Well, not like the serious one - it isn't slow, it isn't perfect. It doesn't feel like those formalities and really, it's not. This is like a celebration, jumping up and down, one foot after the other. It's like a celebration of being alive and being free and it's beautiful and clumsy. They're both grinning at each other, their bodies moving together to the music. There's no system in what they do, they don't mind that they're accidently stepping on each other's toes, they don't care that they probably look ridiculous. Two leads the dance but truth be told; he doesn't really know what he's doing either. They just jump around in circles along with the others, letting themselves be absorbed by the atmosphere of the moment and enjoying every second of it. It feels like being drunk, with a relaxed mind, not being tense and awkward anymore. It feels like intimacy , something they both don't really know but they do know that they wouldn't do this with anyone else. It wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't have this certain kind of magic and lightness to it. No, they don't want to be with anyone else, neither of them. Not that they would have that kind of choice but even if they had, they wouldn't , and that alone makes this moment somehow strange and high and special for both of them. There's a little soft realisation to it, something to avoid, something to run towards. They just hold onto each other, laughing, not really doing anything else than spinning around in circles and accidently bumping into other people. 

It takes a few hours for them to get tired. They sneak out of the village, away from the lights and the music and when they get back to the beginning of the woods, they topple into the grass, pulling each other down. Their breaths are still short from all the laughter and running, their hands still connected, bodies pressed together. 

"Well, that was fun," says Zib. 

"What can I say. I always tend to have the best of ideas," say Two, grinning. 

"I guess you do." 

"Huh, no protesting? I was expecting at least a little ' shut up' from you." 

"Well I can always tackle you down," says Zib. 

"Hardly, you're shorter than me and we're already on the ground and- oh quit it! No tickling!" 

They wrestle each other, both laughting and swearing at each other until Zib ends up lying on top of Two, burying his face in the crook of Two's neck. They're so close that they can hear each other breathe. Two lays on his back for a while, looking slightly terrified but after that he just decides to put his doubts and fears to sleep for now. He doesn't care, he just closes the distance by wrapping one of his arms around Zib's back and gently holding the back of his head with the other. Zib's breathing is slow and gentle, his lips are slightly touching the skin of Two's neck, yet all Two does is draw the other even closer to himself. 

"You always complain about how shitty the space looks," Two whispers, caressing the human's raven hair. "You should look at it now."

"Hm?" 

"Just turn around." 

They both roll over on their sides, arms still wrapped around one another. The sky is a mixture of dark purple and blue, freckled by stars.

"Wow," says Zib quietly. "I feel like I should apologise to space for calling it ugly before." 

"You really should." 

"Sorry, space." Says Zib, still looking up. 

"You're forgiven," says Two, giving Zib a little kiss on the cheek, right under his eye. He hadn't really thought that one through and for a moment he's almost on the brink of panicking, but then Zib just returns the favor by pressing a kiss between Two's eyes. And with that he buries his face in Two's shoulder again, smiling like an idiot, feeling like a child. 

"Why do you care about the colors so much?" Asks Two, kissing Zib into his hair. 

"It was the only thing that's ever made sense to me. Anything that wasn't grey. The rooms were grey. The walls were grey. That whole damned place was grey. " 

" I know . And wow.. this is.. this is sad. " Says Two. 

"I still dream about it. About being locked up again. I'm scared that they will find me and drag me back. I would rather die."

"They won't. We fought them off once, we can do so again." 

Zib kisses Two's jaw, then his neck. "I hope so," he says. 

"I was once a part of the Empire," whispers Two. "I defected, escaped. They almost killed me back then. It messed up my PAK real bad." 

"Oh.. is that why you have scars on your back?" 

"Yeah. Had to reprogram it. I almost died." 

Zib wraps his arms around Two's shoulders, tracing his fingers around the back of his neck. He places a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

"This was the first place," Two continues, kissing Zib on his temples between the sentences, "the first place where they took care of me. And my ship." 

"Certainly a better experience than being treated on Floox." Says Zib, chuckling. 

"Yeah, I mean.. anything is better than Floox."

"So it seems."

"But here.. here I realised that I don't owe anything to anyone for the first time." 

Zib kisses Two on his forehead again. 

"That I'm free," Two continues. "And well, I hoped that you might maybe realise the same," he whispers. 

Zib smiles softly, brushing his hand over the side of Two's face. "I did," he says. And then they are kissing with their mouths open, Two's hands tangled in Zib's hair, Zib's arms wrapped around Two's neck and it tastes like salt and stars and freedom. 

"So," says Zib into the dark, only stars above them. "You're on the side of this.. Well, whatever that giant city represents, then?" 

"The Republic? No," Two replies. "I'm on my own side." 

"And will you let me join?"

Two smiles, gently kissing Zib's face. "I suppose I could live with that."

They kiss each other one last time, snuggling close to one another as they drift into unconsciousness. A distant sound of bells is what wakes them up in the early morning, both of them still half asleep. Then Two's eyes widen, horror written all over his face. Fuck.

"Ship!" Yells Two into his speaker. "Pick us up, now!!"

"What is happening?" Asks Zib, standing up from the ground, still looking quite sleepy.

Two nods into the direction of the city. The capital tower . "You hear that? The bells?" He asks. 

"Yeah?" There's sudden uncertainty in Zib's voice. 

"They're the bells of war." Says Two. "The Capital was attacked. " 

Turns out that the ship is capable of flying really damn fast. On the other hand - calling the ship in the middle of what appears to be an incoming invasion turned out to be a terrible idea. Now they're being followed by three irken ships. No. They're not being followed. They're being hunted. 

"You bloody idiots! This is all your fault! We should've left right away but noo, you had to have your romantic adv-" 

"Shut the fuck up ship!" Yells Two.

"Oh I'd love to.. but then I couldn't very well tell you that we are-" 

The ship suddenly jolts , loud beeping with red flashing lights filling the cockpit. 

"Within the range!" Yells the ship, then takes a fast and violent jump down.

"What are you doing!" Yells Two, trying to take control of the hand drive and failing. 

"Trying to get us out of this alive!" Says the ship.

"You're going to kill us, we're too close to the atmosphere!" 

"God fucking damnit, one more word and I'm throwing you out!" Yells the ship, taking a sharp turn. 

Zib is sitting in the back seat, shaking. Two turns around to him, then jumps into the second back seat, taking Zib' hands into his own. 

"Hey, hey, don't break down on me now," he whispers. 

"I can't. I can't, fuck, I just.. I can't," Zib whispers back. "I can't lose this." 

The ship jolts again. They got hit again. Fuck , they're still within the range. 

The three other ships are fast. Faster than their own, that is now practically falling apart. 

'The systems are going offline' 

"Ship?" Says Two, his voice shaking. "Ship!" 

"Sorry, kids," says the ship, it's robotic voice fading out. "You're on your own now." 

'All systems offline, activating the hand-drive' 

Before Two manages to get back into the pilot seat, the radio makes the interference sound, buzzing until it clears out. 

"If you want to survive, ex-invader X-2-134-C-45, hand the fugitive over to us. Your life will be spared." 

Zib just stares into nothing. He's not even shaking anymore. Fuck. He really thought that getting away could work there, didn't he? And what's even worse, he even allowed himself to believe in such a stupid thing. 

"X-2, do you copy?" 

The ship is leaking fuel. It won't get far. 

"I'm gonna have to land," Says Two, facing Zib once again. "No, don't give me that look, don't even think about it." 

"It could buy you freedom, a real freedom, they would-" 

"I admire your passion for the dramatic arts, ending up by people tragically sacrificing themselves for each other out of love but no," Two spits out, " fuck you, get a fucking hold of yourself!" 

Zib stares at him, almost dropping his mouth open.

"X-2, for the last time; do you copy?" 

Two grasps the speaker, pushing the button, frowning furiously. " Yes," he snaps. "I do copy. Go to hell." 

And with that, he navigates the ship to fly straight down to the planet's surface, setting it ablaze. 

"Now you're killing us!" Yells Zib. "Is that your plan?" 

"Change." Says Two. 

"What?" 

"Change into that thing! You're capable of breaking walls down and flying." 

"I can't control it!" Yells Zib. 

"Well then at least fucking try because there's literally no other way for us to survive this!" 

There really, truly isn't. Zib knows this. He's way too terrified to respond. He's too terrified to move.

It feels like standing inside that room again, like being hopeless. Like not having a reason. Again. 

But no, no. He shouldn't give up on his life. Not now when so much is at stake. Not ever. He is not weak. He's not the victim anymore. 

No, it isn't love that brings that little red spark inside him back to life. It's his anger.

It's how they tried to use his own rage against him, to immobilize him, to make him choke but no, no , he's not gonna let it silence him, he's not gonna keep it on a leash. He's not gonna let them win. 

The world is red. The world is on fire and there's a high pitched buzz flying around, it's so annoying . Two is yelling something, looking terrified, angry and devastated at the same time. His shapes and features are clear. It's not a blur of colors anymore. It's just much more red. Fuck, everything is so red. Zib doesn't mind. He still likes the red better than the grey. 

But oh, he can see. He can see clearly. And that must mean-

The ship is about to crash. It's out of fuel. It's on fire. But holy shit; the plan had worked. 

"Zib?" Asks Two in such a small voice. Should he feel bad about this? About forcing the human - that, once again, clearly isn't a human - to do this? Well, in any other situation.. yes. But now? He just hopes that there will be some time to think about that later. They both jump out of the ship just a few seconds before it hits the ground and explodes. 

Zib holds Two around the waist as they're being blown away by the explosion pressure. The three irken ships follow them, trying to shoot them down. For some reason, none of the shots hit them, even though Two could swear that none of them actually missed the target either. And they didn't, they're just somehow not getting through to them, as if there were some sort of barrier. Fuck, is this Zib's doing as well?

There are many unclear things about how Zib looks right now. Hell, he's able to pull out a pair of wings out of nowhere and fly although he most likely never practised it. 

His wings aren't there the whole time. They appear when Zib jumps into the air and disappear when he lands. They look like projections or something. One can see them but cannot touch them. They're not made from a solid matter yet they're still able to carry both Zib and Two at the same time without any issues. It's so fucking weird. 

Two just lays on the ground after landing. His legs gave up, he's just trembling now, watching the whole scene with horror in his eyes. Within the next second, Zib is in the air again. There's something about him, the way his body moves. It suddenly feels like the roles have been reversed and he's no longer a prey but a hunter. 

The soldiers do not know that yet. Or maybe they do but it's not enough for them to turn around and fly away. No. They jump out of their ships as they land, laser guns in their hands, not having an idea of what they're dealing with.

Zib doesn't really have those dreams anymore - the ones where he flies and sees and rages out like an angry god of destruction. This, however, feels like one of them. He knows that he's not dreaming, he knows that this is real. He feels the ground under his feet, he inhales the burned air into his lungs, closing his eyes. 

There's a soft resemblance between this and the dreaming but it's not the same. This time it feels different. It is different. It's more enraged and raw than it's ever been before. It feels like reality just surrenders.

There is fire. There is red. Zib can sense it, he can taste it and smell it in the air. He hears his own heartbeat loud and clear and it feels like it's connected, like it's so much more than just him right now. His hands are so soft, even though they feel so rough to the touch, and it suddenly feels like there's something else, instead of blood, flowing through his veins. It tickles, it feels so warm and light and natural. 

With every step he takes, something changes, something grows. He's still present, he knows exactly what he's doing. 

"Surrender now!" The soldiers say as they see him approach them. There it is, the fear in their voices as they look into his red eyes, burning with rage and power. 

"Zib!" Yells Two, clumsily standing up. " Zib!" 

He can't respond to this now, he can't be distracted, although a part of him wants to. He would run to the other, he would stop the whole thing, he would run to the farest corners of the universe with him but no, not yet. 

It feels like he's on fire but it doesn't hurt, he just feels somehow unapproachable, untouchable. 

Hell, he still doesn't know how exactly freedom is supposed to feel like and some nights it almost drives him mad, not being able to describe what exactly he wants, but when moments like this one come, he realises that there are no definitions. There are no rules for that either. There's just him and the present and the red. And that's enough.

In the next few moments; he fights. He's in control now. Two of the ships are destroyed, set on fire and he is standing on the top of one of them, letting the flames gently slide up and down around his legs and fingers. He doesn't say anything, he just looks upon the soldiers, the fire reflecting in his eyes. Then he raises his wings, makes a jump, red strings surrounding him, creating something that looks like a halo around his head, shoulders and wrists, and then everything goes black. 

When Zib wakes up, he finds himself  cradled in Two's arms, the irken's face hidden in his neck, hugging him tightly. 

"Two?" Zib says. His voice is rough and quiet, his throat hurts. 

"Zib," whispers Two, now facing the other. His face is dirty, his eyes are so wide. He looks so tired. It makes Zib's stomach drop. 

"Did I.. did I hurt you?" 

"What?" Says Two, looking so sad. "No, no-"

"Are you okay?" Asks Zib, his voice shaking. "What happened? Where are the soldiers?" 

"You saved us," says Two, pressing his forehead into Zib's. "You saved us both." 

The whole place around them looks like a burned ship graveyard. There are far more ships than just the three that were hunting them before. 

Zib is not sure if he wants to know what exactly happened anymore. But he can still see and when he looks at his hands, there are only four fingers and his arms are covered in short brown-red fur.  Fuck , he's still changed . 

He has a tail, it's sensible in the way he walks, in the way he balances himself. He doesn't understand, it's nothing like the times before - he isn't angry, he doesn't feel powerful. Now he just feels lost. 

Two walks beside him in silence, his antennae down. They keep their eyes away from each other. But then they reach the ship. Their ship. And Zib looks at Two, how devastated he looks, and he suddenly understands. The ship is dead. 

They carry whatever is left of the ship in their arms, making their way through the woods. Everything is so quiet. The whole planet is so quiet. There's smoke coming from the city, the ships flying around the tower. 

They bury the remains into the ground, under the trees. Zib gently takes Two's hand into his own as they're leaving, but Two suddenly stops, looking down, trembling. And then he starts to cry.

Zib just stands there and stares until he finally takes the irken into his arms and holds him, holds him. They both feel lost, in a little different ways, but it still hurts, it still feels like drowning. They should run away from here but there is no way anymore. The ship is dead. That alone makes Two's spooch twist and drop. It makes him suffer, it hurts him so much. He never thought this day would come. He thought that the ship would be there forever. That they would travel together for the rest of their days. 

"You're not alone, you're not alone." 

Those words make Two somehow cry even harder. They're both on the ground, holding each other like their lives depend on it, both of their faces stained with tears. 

" You're not alone ," Zib says once more and then they're kissing again, slowly and gently. It's wet and salty and desperate, so vulnerable but beautiful in its own way. The touches, the glances, the gentle way their lips meet and part again and again, it says so much.

Two places a kiss on Zib's cheek, on his forehead and then he kisses him again, caressing his hair that is now dark red instead of black. It's like an assurance. Like telling him the same sweet thing; ' You are not alone, either.' 

"We can't stay here," says Two after a while. "We have to leave."

"I know," says Zib, still snuggled up to the irken. "But how?" 

"There has to be at least one ship that's still able to fly back there." 

"On the ship graveyard ?" 

"God, that's a morbid name, but yes." 

"Uh, I just- I don't want to see that place again." Says Zib quietly. 

Two draws him a little closer, burying his face into Zib's hair. 

"I know," he says softly. "I can go alone, it's not a-" 

"I'm scared." Says Zib. 

"I'm scared, too. That's why we need to-" 

"No, no, I-I'm scared of myself." 

Two gulps. "I-I know. I understand," he says. 

Zib shakes his head. "I just- I did that. I burned that whole place to the ground and I don't even know how I managed to do that," he says. He's crying again without even fully realising it. "I just looked at them and hated them and then it just- I don't know." 

"Hey, hey," whispers Two softly, taking Zibs face into his hands. "You didn't do anything wrong." 

"What if they had me locked up for a reason?" Sobs Zib. "I can't- I can't control it. I can't control myself when I change, all I feel is hate and pain and sorrow and then I set everything on fire and-" 

"No, no, listen to me, you're not at fault in this," says Two. 

"I killed them!" Zib cries out. 

"They tried to kill us first. They've abused you your entire life." Says Two, 

And then Zib is burying himself into Two's chest again and before Two manages to say anything, Zib whispers; "I feel like a monster," and then he's crying harder than he had ever cried in his life.

Two holds him, tears streaming down his face as well. "No, no," he whispers. "You're not." 

Zib doesn't respond. 

"You're beautiful," says Two, taking Zib's face into his hands again, kissing him on the forehead. "You're kind and brave and sweet," he says, gently brushing the tears away. "You mean the universe to me," he says and then Zib's lips are on his own again. 

In the end, they manage to find a ship. This one is not sassy, it doesn't talk at all even after the repair.

Two still misses his old ship sometimes, but he's not as sad as he used to be about it.

Things had changed. Zib spends more time in his changed form than his human one. It blends into the variety of alien species better that way. And, much to his own as well as Two's surprise, he ends up pretty much liking how he looks. Of course, the reality of him getting incredibly tired of not being able to see properly played a part in that as well.

He's still not at good terms with his own powers, whatever they are, whatever they can do, but after he found out that turning into his fire moth form(as Two, much to Zib's displeasure, named it) doesn't automatically mean turning into that an angry beast of destruction, he became at least able to talk about it without crying or getting astonishingly angry. 

Some nights he still wakes up all startled and shaking and Two takes his hands into his own, holding him, lulling him back to sleep by kisses and gentle quiet words. It's okay. They're alright. They feel safe, in a way. Although neither of them really recognises the feeling.

And when Zib looks at Two, he sees the change. The freedom, the uncertainty, the bitterness and cold of space but also all the colors and sounds and places where people dance and run together. He sees the end of being so still, of being alone.

They simply live now because they can. While they can. They live and dance and argue and make love to each other and learn new things, visit new places and really, it's the kind of life neither of them even dreamed about having.

They haven't settled down, not yet. Because there's still time. There's still a lot of things to come, a lot of things to defeat. But it's clearer now. Clearer and more solid and they're not ready for it, nor will they ever be, but they're not scared, not waiting, not searching, because there's no place nor an answer or clue to anything. And when they step out of their ship, heading towards the unknown, hand in hand, they don't really care about all those things. They just run and dance together, share their food and wear each other's clothes and hold hands while walking through the crowded streets of big cities, the whole of space at their feet. 

THE END