Chapter Text
Lakshmi didn’t feel right.
Well, that had been true for a while, now. She’d felt strange when she’d been drafted into a TCN crew, promised a paycheck fat enough that she couldn’t stomach the paperwork and fees that would have gotten her out of it. She’d felt strange when her crew had gotten the news that the Accord was gone and the war was over. She’d felt strange when the crew had voted sixteen to five to stay out there and keep fighting.
This was a different kind of sensation. There was a dull ringing in her ears, and a shakiness in her motions that made it feel like she was slightly disconnected from her own body.
“Relax.” A hand slapped on her back and made her yelp into her hand. She didn’t know why she startled so easily. Jack was always slapping people on the backs to encourage them, to whip them back into shape. It hadn’t startled her since their first week on the same crew. “You’re fine, I promise. It was just a little bump, right? Just a little bump.”
Lakshmi wasn’t sure about that. She was down in engineering, tightening a valve, and the next thing she knew, she was in the infirmary. Apparently Nakib had been working on a piston that couldn’t be shut off, it had moved while he was adjusting it, and the wrench had flown from his hand and smacked her on the side of the head. She’d apparently been conscious the whole time, had complained about the ache and walked herself to medical, but now those memories were entirely sealed away within her own head.
The only way to describe her current feelings was that she felt brittle. Beyond the dull soreness in her head, and the small knot that had formed on her scalp from the hit, she felt small and confused in a way that didn’t quite slow her down. It was an abstract, numb confusion, disorientation one level removed. Her fingers tingled and she wanted to keep at least two of them in her mouth, just for the sensation. Never before had she dealt with an oral fixation.
She tried to subtly chew on her nail as she read the latest plans on the tablet. She’d been trying to read the three paragraphs for ten minutes, now. Lakshmi was a fast reader; and in reality she’d read the words about ten times through. She understood them; but the moment she tried to recall the details without staring at the page, her mind only had static to give back.
“I don’t think,” she said – and did her voice sound strange on the outside, too, or was that just in her head? – “that I should go out like this. I don’t feel right.”
“You’re fine,” Jack said, with such radiant confidence that she could almost believe him. “I’ve gotten a shiner before, I know what it’s like. You just gotta shake off some of the dust and rubble.”
“Okay, but… I feel on edge, like… Like I’m about to cry, right? And I don’t k-know why, it’s just there and…”
“Laksh, look at me. It’s just a little bump. You’re stressing yourself out. That’ll make it worse, too, you know?”
She managed to choke back the swell of emotions that seemed to come from nowhere. “Yeah. Just… Tell me what I need to do, alright?”
Jack wasn’t trying to blow her off – and that was the worst part about it. It came down to the fact that she was one of his most reliable people, that she’d been through supply runs and such before, that she’d done this exact route four times as it was: Land on Sero, which wasn’t quite chock-full of weeds like some places now were; grab a few packs of supplies; cart them back using a different route; and move along. All in all, it should be child’s play.
“I’ve got you, too, alright? We can do this. It’s just another supply run, and then you can sleep off the rest of the funk. I’ll take your maintenance duties for the rest of the night and tomorrow morning, deal?”
Lakshmi’s eyes were watering even though she didn’t want to cry. She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She still didn’t feel right; but then again, none of them were quite the people they used to be. She wasn’t the only one off-balance in one way or another.
It was just a little bump.
Of course, this was statement she was challenged by as soon as she landed. The cosmos was always ready to play a joke like that.
The twin sunlight of the planet made her eyes ache, even when she stared down towards the ground. She felt the warmth on her skin and it tingled. There was music playing from somewhere close and while it wasn’t too loud it left a strange material echo in her ears, left a blueish-static taste on her tongue. What did that even mean? It didn’t make sense but it was present nonetheless.
Lakshmi looked up towards Jack, but he had already vanished down the street, and she couldn’t make him out. There were a number of terrans milling about, conversing in little pockets, playing a board game, eating big meals that smelled intense and almost nauseatingly delicious – whether they were infested or not, she couldn’t tell. Regardless, they were collaborateurs and not to be trusted.
She’d left her communication devices on the shuttle so they couldn’t be tracked. Lakshmi had stared at the screens until she could convince herself that she’d memorized the route she was supposed to take.
Perhaps in a vacuum, she’d have been able to claw a couple turns from the map and bullshit the rest of the route. In the real world, with sights and sounds and smells layered over each other, the vague scent of kitchen herbs and blooming honeysuckle a looming reminder that she was in enemy territory, she was likely being watched, she had something to fear, it was all lost to the ether in an instant. There was too much. With the ringing in her ears and a vibration behind her eyes, she was entirely alone.
Lakshmi knew that she was overstimulated. This was obvious. The problem was that it was a different type of overstimulation than the slight irritation and exhaustion she was used to. This was all-consuming. She felt small, helpless, like she was doing something intrinsically wrong with her presence alone.
Her fingers went back into her mouth and she pressed her teeth against them to try and keep herself grounded.
Eyes darted back and forth. There was a big blurry mass of green in that direction, so it was a no-go. The alleyway she’d thought to take instinctively had a group of terrans and other xenos hanging out, smoking from a big hookah-looking thing, giggling and grinding and kissing. Pets, probably. They looked too at ease. They looked comfy. They looked safe.
Lakshmi looked away. The blur filter that had been swished over her thoughts jolted, and she had to blink a bit more of it away. She was nauseous – but it was more than that. It had crossed some barriers it shouldn’t have been able to, and she felt that pang of sickness in her legs, and gone up into her head. She was spiritually nauseous, if such a thing were possible. Her fingers felt like there was cotton between them, their movement just a millisecond delayed from where it should have been.
She retched without thinking, and immediately realized that such a noise would draw attention to her.
Nothing came up, save a bit of spittle, but she wiped it on her sleeve and moved in a direction, any direction, trying to seem like she had a plan. She’d had a plan. She could no longer remember it at all, beyond the vaguest descriptors. She was going somewhere to get supplies.
Admitting that she was confused only made her more confused, made the nausea and panic and dread worse, made the sluggishness of her body more tangible. It was a feedback loop she was powerless to stop, even if she acknowledged it implicitly. She was otiose before her obligations. Her head throbbed.
She spun around on her heels, and the motion made her retch again. She’d lost track of where she’d come from. Her mental map was wiped mostly-clean, and the little smears that remained weren’t up to the task. Lakshmi was lost, lost in weed territory, injured, helpless. The little bump on her head ached and brought with it a childish fear. Gone was the soldier who could have stomached the dread of the moment. She was afraid, she was weak, and the world was too big for her.
Her decision making was compromised in this way, but it was all she had. The intimate details of the mission melted away. She was injured, she felt sick, and she needed help. The consequences could come later. She wasn’t even thinking about her nature as a rebel, as an outsider. What mattered now was trying to tame the fear and nausea that defined this moment of her existence.
Lakshmi chewed on one of her fingers until she could stomach the decision she already knew she’d made.
She walked, slowly, confidently, down another street.
There was a weed across the way: a chubby-looking one, somehow, its vine-knit body simulating pillowy adipose alongside muscular arms and pecs covered in some sort of clover-like leaf. It had to help, right? They weren’t eating terrans, they weren’t putting them to work in the mines – at least, it didn’t look like that. Right now, Lakshmi thought, through the swimminess in her own head, she needed help and they promised to help.
Trying to ignore the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest, the terran walked forward to where it was lounging. It acknowledged her immediately, sitting up a bit straighter – and only now did she realize just how big it was compared to her. She might have come up to its potbelly once it stood up fully.
“Hi there, little terran.”
“H-Hi, I…” The warmth in its voice proved a sledgehammer through the last of her decorum. Her voice cracked and her eyes watered. “I got hit in the head and I feel dizzy and I’m having trouble remembering little details and I feel funny and…”
“Oh!” The weed stood up, and instantly pulled her off of the ground, into its arms. “That won’t do, no, that won’t do at all.” Lakshmi had expected it to explode into a torrent of vines, but instead it moved like a person. Stars, it was strong. It lifted her without even a little grunt of effort. “Do you remember your name, little thing?”
“L-Lakshmi, um…”
“Lakshmi. Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Oh, his voice was deep. It rumbled through her skin, rumbled into her, gave her aching head something to latch onto. “Do you have an owner, Lakshmi?”
“No-” she blurted, without thinking. It was too late to take it back, already. She recalled someone saying that she ought to say she had an owner and make up some name to take suspicion away, but her head was too full of mush to balance that kind of thing. The other fucked up thing was that it felt good to be honest with this xeno. She already felt a little safer being held by it, like nothing bad could happen – beyond the obvious, but the devil she knew was better than collapsing alone in an alleyway or on a shuttle. “N-No, I…”
“That’s okay. Listen, don’t fret, okay? My name is Nicta Syriacus. I’m on my fourth bloom. I know a vet who can get you checked out and make sure you’re okay. It just sounds like you’ve got a concussion, okay? The best medicine for that is rest.”
“I’m…” Lakshmi swallowed the urge to sob again. “I’m just… dizzy.”
“And how did it happen? Were you playing? Did you slip?”
“N-No, I…” She wanted to explain in detail, but the weed was still an enemy. She was still in enemy territory. “Accident.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“N-Not, not on my own, I just…”
“Okay, Lakshmi, it’s alright…” Nicta’s low voice offered a warm reassurance that somehow worked. “I promise you that you will be just fine, even if it takes a few days to get there, alright?”
Against her better judgment, she nodded against the soft chest of the weed. She swung her arms out and clung to him for support. Closing her eyes kept the nauseating light away, and the gentle rocking of his steps gave her brain something to latch on to.
“You’ve never been to the vet, have you?”
“I’ve been to doctors…”
“Hmph,” the big plant rustled, and Lakshmi knew distantly that she’d chosen a wrong answer. Why it was wrong, she didn’t have the faculties to discern. “Well. Now, little terrans go to the vet to get medical help. You’ll be in excellent vines. I’ll stay with you the whole time so that you stay safe.”
That should not have made Lakshmi feel better, but it did. She rubbed her face against his sweet-smelling chest and enjoyed the sensory feeling of leaves on her cheek.
“Good girl. Just relax. I’ve got you.”
Nicta’s hand clasped over the back of her head, protecting the sore spot, all the while gently running fingers through her head.
“T-Talk more?”
“What do you want me to talk about, Lakshmi?”
“A-Anything…”
“Well, alright…” His low voice hummed, “I’ve been helping to set up a greenhouse in this region, and wouldn’t you know I have been fighting your terran mint since I started the cultivars. I spilled a couple of those little seeds, and wouldn’t you know that it likes me far, far more than I like it. It grows in these little tangles like it thinks it can smother the rest of me.”
“It smells good.”
That brought another booming laugh that warmed her all the way down to her fragile core. “Yes, so I’ve heard. I’m not quite complaining, even. It’s just a cute trait for a terran flora to have, I think. Clingy just like you are.”
Lakshmi whined about that judgment but didn’t fight it. This thing was helping her. She would do well not to piss him off. It would out her as a rebel if she wasn’t careful.
“H-How much longer?”
“Just a short walk away. I promise. Mx. Tirago will get you all taken care of.”
“A-And then..?”
“Well, I’ll take you back to your hab.”
Lakshmi’s breath hitched. The dread in her belly returned, made her want to cry again. Maybe she was already crying. Her face was tingling, regardless. She chewed on her lip as subtly as she could. That bridge would have to burn when they got to it.
“And if you do not have a hab, you can stay with me for a bit.”
How did he know? Was he-
“Shhh… It’s okay. It’s alright. I’ve got you…” He hummed. “Today, I’m like your big brother, okay? Big brother’s got you…”
Somehow, that worked to cull the worst of the nightmarish thoughts swelling in her cotton-filled skull.
Cool air made her cling to Nicta tighter, and it came with the smell of lemon balm, chemical cleanliness with a floral edge. There was an aura of sterility: white marble floors, flowing water, the hum of some distant machine.
“Here we are. Come with me, little thing,” Nicta said, as though Lakshmi had any choice in the matter.
“Remember to be polite, and answer Mx. Tirago’s questions as best as you can, alright? I’ll do as much talking for you as I can, but I don’t know exactly what happened.”
A door opened, and there was a new voice. “Oh! Ah, yes?” It was softer, more androgynous, with a pentatonic rumble beneath. “Excuse me, I’m trying to recall your name…”
“Nicta’s just fine. Or Syriactus. He/Him. May I call you Catalpa?”
“You may!” And he seemed to finally register the presence of the terran in the other affini’s grasp.
Lakshmi made contact with a trio of eyes before she looked away, trying only to view the plant through her peripheral vision. It was small for a weed, very terran in its general appearance, though perhaps a bit too perfect in its replication, like a mannequin overgrown after an apocalypse. “Now, then… Who is this little thing?”
“This is Lakshmi,” Nicta said, still carefully cushioning her head. “Somehow she got a bump on her head that is hurting. She probably has a concussion.”
“Oh, goodness… So fragile… Not a floret, then, I surmise?”
“No.”
“Well, perhaps we’ll have to fix that, hm?”
Lakshmi’s words caught in her throat. She wanted to protest, but she was too afraid and too disoriented.
“Down the line, if at all. Right now, she just needs reassurance that things are going to be okay.”
“Now that I am happy to do. Pass her over to me?”
Without conscious thought the terran tightened her grip on Nicta.
The affini rumbled something that felt like approval. “I think she wants to stay where she is.”
Catalpa shifted a bit, but just shared a knowing glance with their counterpart. “Now, that I can work with. Such a good girl, already, hm?” Thin vines, a slightly different texture, brushed over her back, and around her head, and she let out a small squeak.
“Ah, yes. Right here, there’s a small laceration. How’d this happen, Lakshmi?”
“I… I fell…”
“Now, if I’m going to help you, you need to be honest with me,” Catalpa responded, almost instantly after. “This is not a the way skin would split from an impact with the ground. You were hit with something, weren’t you? Can you tell me what it was?”
Lakshmi bit her lip.
“No one is going to be in trouble, little bloom, I promise.”
“Wrench.”
“A… Hm.” Catalpa’s tone flattened. He whispered something to the other affini that Lakshmi could not understand, but the sudden coolness sent chills down her spine, reawakened that preyish response that made her want to run. “Well. Let’s snap a couple of pictures, and…”
“You’re doing just fine, okay? You’re being very good for your big brother.”
“You’re… You’re not that..!”
“Why not? I’m older than you, and I’m looking after you - after you got a boo-boo, no less. Do you have a different suggestion to make?”
Lakshmi wanted for a moment to tell him where he could shove it, but Nicta was nice and was helping her, and she felt too small to have another enemy out in the world. Not him when he was warm and smelled nice, and kept her out of the vines of another weed.
“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The terran remained silent.
“Alright,” Catalpa interrupted. “All’s well. I see no evidence of any concerning injuries. You got a good bump on your head, and it’ll probably hurt, but it’s nothing that won’t pass. Do you know what your medicine is?”
Lakshmi looked up from her hiding place in Nicta’s chest.
“Lots of good sleep, and plenty of rest.”
That made the terran’s heart sink. There was no quick excuse to sneak away – there was reassurance but it only promised that she’d be more under their roots. Nicta wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, it seemed, and if she admitted it to herself, she didn’t want to go, either. The terrifying smallness became something she could stomach with her body pressed against him.
“Are you up to date on your grafts, Nicta? Good. Class As and Es will be your friends, though I’m sure that’s not news to you. Let me know when I’m going to see little Lakshmi again, alright?”
“It won’t be too long,” Nicta promised, but before Lakshmi could protest and pout, something poked into her side, and she realized a second too late to care that she was high. The floatiness in her head was earned, now. Her thoughts felt slow and syrupy. “I don’t think she’s leaving me, now.”
“I’m-”
“Shhh…” The Affini purred right into her ear. He was so soft to the touch, it was almost like he was fluffy, a big chunky plush for her to press against. Her eyes were heavy, but she wasn’t nauseous at all anymore. He smelled like herbs and a bit of mint. It was nice. “Just rest for me. That’s the best medicine right now, okay? You’re going to come out of this just fine.”
Lakshmi lost access to the words she would have used to protest. Exhaustion really set in. She didn’t even fully fathom she’d been drugged; in her mind, it was like the reassurance that she would recover allowed the adrenaline to lapse and allowed her body to finally process recovery. She was in safe hands – somehow – and her body took that as enough of a guarantee that she could drift off.
There was still a shred of conscious awareness as she dozed, in Nicta’s arms, being carried along the street again. Vines pressed gently against her ears and hummed to smother the noises and overstimulating conversations happening all around.
“Hab,” he said, and she snapped awake just a smidge, just enough to fathom that time had passed between the vet and now, “dim the lights to their lowest functional setting. Keep vocal acknowledgement muted until told otherwise. Request a terran-style bed for my hab as well, with lots of pillows, and some stuffed animals, please?”
Lakshmi looked around, and found that she could do it without agony on the eyes. It was hard to keep them open for long, but the space was large and open. There was furniture for the plant. Large bubbling water fixtures provided a dull ambiance only deepened by the candle-glow of the lights, which were all in thick brass lanterns. She could see that there were books and physical media on shelves, but she couldn’t make out any of the text – at first she assumed it was because she was concussed, and only after did she process that it was probably in some Affini script.
“I know it’s a bit… underdesigned, right now. I just moved here a few of your weeks ago to this domestication campaign. I haven’t quite ingested enough of Terran culture to assimilate its style as I want to. I assume you’ll help me with that when you feel better, isn’t that right?”
“Mmph… Maybe…”
“Maybe’s good enough for now, little sister.” Here he was with that line again. Lakshmi pouted at how comforting he made it sound. “They should have a proper bed compiled and built in an hour at most.”
“Takes longer than an hour… It’ll cost too much, I’m fine.”
Nicta’s laugh boomed over her, but it was soft enough not to make her ears pulse. “Such a silly little thing. Let me worry about the details right now. You’re going to worry about your recovery. Close your eyes, take deep breaths, and get lots of rest for me, alright?
Lakshmi found it impossible not to believe him. She adjusted herself once he placed her in his lap and sat down, head pressing against his belly, arms wrapped around him as much as she could manage. She settled for snugging his thigh, not questioning how his vines parted to make enough space for her.
“Talk more,” she said, in a soft voice that didn’t sound entirely like her own. “Please?”
“Sure, Lakshmi. I’ll do that for you. Let’s see, why don’t I tell you about the research I did on beeple honey in my second bloom? It all started with a simple Class-O inquiry with a sophont who was resistant to the drugs xey needed…”
That was all she needed to hear before her body complied, and she fell asleep.
She woke up in a bed. A real bed. Not a TCN cot, not a straw mat covered with cardboard and bits of styrofoam, but a real bed. There was a comforter all around her. Her arms were wrapped around a round plushie of some sort of cat-thing. She was warm. A new, cool-to-the-touch pillow was beneath her head. Her head still ached, but she wasn’t nauseous. Just exhausted. Just fragile. She moved to sit up, and suddenly the fear she’d been mitigating was too much. She felt safe enough to let it go, and a pathetic little sob bubbled up out of her. Once it started it was impossible to stop. Her eyes burned as her breath hitched, and she suddenly couldn’t slow it down. It was too much. She was a little girl again.
“Hey, hey…” She heard, and without even thinking, practically lunged for the body that was beside her. Lakshmi didn’t even process what it was beyond the soothing hum in its voice, and the fact that she wasn’t being scolded for being weak. She pressed herself into the figure and cried, sobbed just as hard as she could, while a hand traced little circles over the small of her back.
Big brother had her. Her big brother was going to keep her safe.
“That’s it, petal,” she heard, and even the familiar term she’d grown to loathe over broadcasts couldn’t rip away the vulnerability. “This is totally normal after a head injury. Sometimes its hard to control emotions, isn’t it? You’re safe here. It’s okay to feel small, isn’t it?” His voice was too soothing for what it was. It worked on her.
Really, it earned the weed another burst of snotty sobs right into his chest, at least until she was pulled up into his arms, such that she could wipe her nose on his shoulder like a little brat.
“I-I’m… I’m fine,” she tried to hold it back. “I’m fine.”
“You will be,” Nicta replied, softly, “but you’re not feeling fine right now, and that’s okay.”
“I’m… They’re gonna leave me behind,” she said, weakly, as though it were a compelling argument. She couldn’t even convince herself that she cared.
“Then that’s their loss, now, isn’t it?” The plant rumbled against her. “When did you last eat?”
“I, um, I… I…” Fuck, and now Lakshmi was tripping over own words like a little kid. “Synthcube last night…”
She whimpered as he suddenly pulled himself off of the bed, carrying her with him. Her heart skipped a beat. She’d said something wrong, and either he was mad at her, or she’d outed herself as someone who needed to be punished. Either eventuality was the real one and she cried for both of them.
“What do you like to eat, Lakshmi?” Nicta pulled her away so that she could see his face, and she only really noticed the alienness of it now: he had four eyes, one pair atop the other, and his mouth had mandibles. His nose was crooked – why was it crooked? It was something to fixate on – and better than looking him in the eyes. “If you could have something right now, no matter what, what would it be?”
“Rice pudding.”
“There we are. Hab, compile me a warm rice pudding.”
Then, in the blink of an eye, they were going back to the bedroom. He sat cross-legged on the bed, and she sat in between his legs, head against his tummy. A small bowl of lightly-steaming spiced pudding was placed in her lap, alongside a bamboo spoon.
“Do you feel up to feeding yourself?”
Lakshmi nodded. She did not trust herself to speak. She took the spoon from Nicta’s hand. Stars, it was too small for him by such a degree… She gave him a suspicious look before taking a bite, and her attention drifted. It was enough that she quietly let him continue to pet her head as she ate, the touch too good to admit to.
“That’s a good girl. You’re safe here, I promise.”
Problems for a different day, perhaps. Right now, Lakshmi reasoned, she was concussed, and the space was quiet enough for her to rest. She’d ask the hard questions later.
“I want to learn more about my little sister in time, you know, but I know it will take some time. After you eat this, we’re going back to sleep.”
Lakshmi made sure to eat just as slowly as she could. Nicta didn’t mind. He pulled out a large tablet, pecked at it with vines – his fingers had definitely split into green tendrils to type with, moving too fast for her to want to see – and what sounded like a radio show started playing. She caught the name: it was a talk show.
The pet hosting had a soft, calm voice. There was something husky about it, too. She was reading listener-submitted short stories, cadence low and hypnotic. As she ate Lakshmi closed her eyes and just let her body work, savoured the sweet spice of the pudding. She scraped the bowl clean when it was empty, and wordlessly passed the bowl back up. She pulled herself off of the affini, laid on her side facing the wall, and tried not to dwell on the compromises she’d already made.
There was no punishment. Instead, Nicta simply spooned her, pulled her back against his belly, and wrapped a few vines around her. Others pulled the comforter up over her shoulders, and placed a plushie back into her arms. She sobbed into it without hesitation, until the exhaustion won out and she stilled, drifting back off.
Vines gently coaxed her awake some hours later, and Lakshmi shot up with a gasp. When she realized it was just Nicta, she relaxed a bit. The headache had faded into background noise, though she still felt sluggish and detached.
“Hello again,” he hummed, placing a bowl right into her lap. “You need to eat and move about a bit, don’t you?”
“I…”
In the bowl were real eggs, potatoes, cheese, peppers, and onion. She took a bite and it was too good for her faith in humanity to remain entirely untarnished. She chewed slowly, knowing full well that she could eat too fast and make herself sick.
“Would you mind answering something for me, Lakshmi?”
“Depends on what it is.” It was a relief to know that her voice sounded more like her own, again. It didn’t have the simpering edge it had last night. “You know?”
“The… terran who was responsible for your injury. Was it intentional?”
“Was it intentional?”
“Yes. Did that sophont intend to harm you?” Nicta shifted his weight on the bed, and waited for a moment while Lakshmi decided what to say. He wasn’t pleased by that, she could already tell. “It doesn’t matter in any penal sense. I’m asking because it is important to know that your fellow terrans aren’t a danger to themselves or others. It’s important to know which ferals need to be cared for first.”
Ferals. That word buzzed in her head, made that childish panic surge for just a moment.
“Yes, I see the look,” the Affini rumbled, “I know you were a feral, Lakshmi. It’s alright. You are safe now.”
“I’m…”
“One thing at a time, alright? Can you answer that question?”
“Accident. I meant it.” Her words were quick. “At least, I’m pretty sure. I don’t remember the details, but… Na-” she cut herself off. “He was always polite to me when we worked together. I don’t think it was on purpose.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’ll pass that information along.”
“You-”
“Me?”
Lakshmi’s throat tightened. “I’m not…”
“You’re not..?”
Was it the head injury that had her words so fractured, or was it the panic in the moment? She earnestly couldn’t tell. No, the worst part about this was that she felt that urge to cry coming back. Her whole self felt brittle, like thirty years of life experience suddenly meant nothing.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you? It’s okay to be a little bit scared right now, Lakshmi. We can fret about the little details when you’re feeling better. I promise you that. So, why don’t you finish your meal, and then we can find something for you to watch?”
“Take me to the bathroom, first?”
The big, heavyset creature smiled. “That I’m happy to do. Now?”
“Please and thank you.”
“Such manners for a feral,” he said, and Lakshmi knew it should have felt like a taunt.
An hour later, Lakshmi was perched on the massive sofa, leaning against Nicta, half-watching a show about old terran board games. She placed it face down on her lap when she felt the eye strain coming back, and dozed for about ten minutes at a time. Nicta was petting her the whole time, humming to himself, quietly playing some sort of game on his own device.
“Ah,” he said, with a little rustle of his leaves. “I’ve got to run a couple of errands today.”
“You’re leaving?” Lakshmi felt the tears again. “S-Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”
“It’s okay, little sis,” Nicta purred, lifting her effortlessly into his lap, an act that only coaxed more tears forward. “Everbloom. No one’s ever let you feel small, have they?”
“I’m not small.”
“Petal, look at yourself. Look at me.”
Lakshmi giggled a bit, and the volatility of emotion nearly gave her whiplash. “You’re just… too fucking big.”
“Both things can be true at once, can’t they?”
“T-This is… Not… How I am, normally. I promise, it’s not-”
A massive green finger shushed her. “Listen to me, Lakshmi.” She was compelled to listen. Her heart skipped a beat, but it wasn’t quite fear, now. She ought to have been afraid of that. “You are what you are, and what you are matters less to me than your happiness. You’re allowed to be fragile right now. Many things are changing around you, and that’s not even considering your little bump. Relax. Allow yourself to be vulnerable right now, and we can re-assess when you’ve recovered more fully.”
“Fine,” she replied, because it was the only response she felt she was allowed to give. It was an agreement that still had a hint of an acerbic edge to it.
“I wasn’t intending to leave you behind,” Nicta continued, with a warmth that should not have been possible for a creature like him. “I wanted to give you the choice to either come with me, or to stay here by yourself for a bit.”
Lakshmi pursed her lips, thought about it, and felt that distant vibration on the side of her head. Right now, being alone was scary. It was a vulnerability that was not acceptible. It was an unknown, it was the chance for something to go wrong.
“You’re going to rest either way, you know.”
“With you,” she said, before she could second-guess herself. “Please.”
Nicta’s unchanging smirk told her he’d anticipated this answer. “Good girl, Lakshmi.” Without warning, the belly she was leaning against suddenly opened up, and she fell into it. This part of him was hollow inside, somehow, but before she could even think to panic the space had sealed behind her, trapping her in a warm, pitch-black pocket. Vines were all around, a few stray tips peeking out to touch her, to carress her hair and the small of her back.
“This is safety,” Nicta said, “the greatest safety I can offer a terran. No one will ever hurt you when you are with me.”
In the darkness of the space, where no one but the plant playing a big brother figure could hear her, Lakshmi allowed herself an exhausting wail.
Hours passed, or maybe minutes; months, or jagged fragments of seconds. It was entirely possible that the weed was a black hole; a walking singularity that warped and condensed and spaghettified time into something incomprehensible. These considerations were no longer available to Lakshmi, overwritten by a dull, luscious hum that made it easy to relax, easy to lose focus, easy to sleep.
She was a half-awake passenger in her own body, shifting back and forth, tossing and turning in the small pouch that had been alloted to her. She listened as Nicta made conversation, but it was unclear through the muffling if it was some comprehensible form of Terran language or weedspeak. All she could focus on were the tones, the warmth, the amusement. At times, when Nicta’s voice got a certain rumbling edge, the vines around her tightened their grip, soaked more warmth into her. She found it a step too far within herself to care.
No, she told herself as the panic set in, the Free Terran spark that still tried to burn inside of her, she needed to rest. Rest and recuperation were the best medicine for her problem, and when she was more herself, when she could be bigger, she’d puzzle out a way out of this. After all, Nicta would probably help. Big brothers helped with stuff like that, and he knew she was… well, she didn’t like the word ‘feral,’ but he wasn’t mad about it, so it was a start.
“Good girl.”
She didn’t hear that, but she felt it in her body, felt a little rush of endorphins and oxytocin that made it easy to stay limp and compliant.
When at last they were back at the hab, and Nicta pulled her from himself, brought her closer to his strange xeno-face to cuddle and pet her, she begrudgingly allowed it. She was still too sapped and fractured to put up a fight.