Downstairs, Nyx and Mia wait patiently in the kitchen. Mia had suggested preparing food for the feral boy, but Nyx advised her otherwise, saying that the kid will only be more skeptical unless he can see the food being prepared himself.

    "Are you sure about this?" Mia asks, her voice hushed as if she fears the boy could hear her.

   "Sure about what?"

   "Just...you know," Mia falters as she tries to phrase her speech in the least offensive way possible. "...You do realize he's legally not supposed to be here?"

    "C'mon, Mimi, have a heart. Poor lad was practically beaten to a pulp in an alleyway. I couldn't very well just leave him to die. And anyway, he's just as much a person as you and me."

    The girl looks skeptical, but doesn't argue. "You should probably find him some clean clothes. No point in him taking a bath if he's just going to put that bloody shirt and horrible skinny jeans back on."

    "Fair point..."

    "You could run downtown and pick something up for him," Mia suggests, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Maybe something secondhand so it won't eat up your savings."

    Nyx ponders this before shaking his head, "I don't know if I want to leave you with him."

   "So he does make you nervous?"

    "A little," Nyx admits. "You can't blame me. Kid's feral."

    Mia's red lips form a smile. "Well, I suppose I could run a quick errand. What do you think I should get for him?"

    "Anything that won't entirely cling to his wounds, preferably something slightly oversized."

    "So a mens' small or medium?"

    "Sure. He's scrawny enough, I'm sure either one will work. Here," pulling some currency from his pocket, Nyx places the trade tokens in Mia's palm. She smiles at him again before sliding on some sandals and grabbing a rain slicker before leaving the house on her errand.

   Nyx ascends the stairs, his steps silenced by the plush carpet lining the hall as he ventures to the bathroom. He raps rhythmically on the door before calling out, "You doin alright in there little punk?"

    The response is muffled, incoherent. Nyx finds this somewhat concerning but also doesn't want to ask more questions and make the boy any more uncomfortable than he already is.

    Just as Nyx is about to turn and go back downstairs, the bathroom door opens a crack and the feral boy's loud whisper can be heard.

    "Do you have any sutures?"

    "Uhhh... I don't know. I'll go see."

    "Thanks."

    "You good, pal?" Nyx's worry seeps into his words and he hovers near the door.

    "I'm not your pal." The door slams shut once again, leaving Nyx no choice but to venture back downstairs in search of the boy's request. If he needs sutures, he's clearly not okay. How could Nyx have missed a wound like that?

    As he searches the first aid kit for stitching materials, he realizes his right shoulder feels a bit numb and very tense. Sure, that was the one he'd used to carry the boy, but surely someone so light wouldn't cause the muscles to tense like this. He rushes to the nearest mirror for closer inspection, and he cannot believe what he sees.

    His shoulder is becoming swollen and misshapen in some places, and his range of motion becomes more limited with each passing minute. One of the inflamed areas is highlighted by tooth marks, a strange clear substance oozing from them. Nyx touches the substance, rubbing it between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. He finds that it leaves a burning sensation, followed by a tingling numbness very much like when one's hand falls asleep. Immediately he goes to wash his hand, but it seems to be too late. His forefinger and thumb are now quite numb.

    His mind and heart racing, he paces the kitchen. Think, Nyx, think.

    It seems almost impossible to think, now. It is as if his entire being is slowly being put to sleep in the most gentle and subtly painful way. A thread of panic weaves itself around his chest and he struggles to remain calm.

    What have I gotten myself into?!

    Like an answered prayer, Mia returns with a set of clothes in her arms. Her eyes widen when she notices the state her friend is in. "Nyx–you look terrible. What happened?!"

    "I..."

    "Did he attack you?!" Throwing the clothes aside almost violently, Mia rushes to inspect her friend's wounds, urging him to sit on the counter.

    "No, he didn't attack me while you were gone...but I guess his self defense measures might have something to do with it."

    "He bit you?" Dragging a stool up to the counter, she digs in the first aid kit for an antidote.

    "Many times."

    "Nyx, this is worse than a snakebite..." Holding the bottle of antidote apprehensively, she reaches for a packet of sealed cotton balls. "I don't know how effective this will be."

    "Worth a shot. I can feel the numbness spreading, so if you could hurry that would be great."

   "Of course, of course." Quickly, she pours the antidote over his irritated flesh and dabs up the excess with the cotton balls. "Just give it a moment to start working..."

    The antidote is only successful in reducing the numbness. However, once that lack of feeling has subsided, it is replaced by a swift burning pain unlike anything Nyx has ever felt in his life. It's almost as if the antidote has activated the venom, and feels like someone has injected corrosive acid into his body and lit it on fire for good measure.

    Clenching his teeth and gripping the countertop as tightly as his tense muscles will allow, Nyx suppresses a scream as well as a string of profanities. Mia watches in silent horror, pallor overtaking her entire being.

    Upstairs, some inhuman noise can be heard. Mia and Nyx stare at each other, exchanging a look of desperation and dread. What have they brought into Mia's home?

    "Should I go give him these?" Mia asks in a trembling whisper.

    "Yeah," Nyx urges her. "Just leave them by the door and shout to him."

   "Okay." In all ways hushed, Mia grabs the clothes and scurries upstairs. Knocking loudly on the bathroom door, she shouts, "I have clean clothes for you!"

    There is no response from the boy, so she leaves the clothes by the door as Nyx had instructed and wastes no time hurrying back to the kitchen.

    "He's so cute, but damn," she murmurs, applying more antidote to Nyx's burning limbs.

    "You think he's cute?" Nyx sputters a laugh, wincing as the substance continues to burn within his flesh.

    "Well–isn't he?" The girl flushes red, earning a smug eye roll from her friend.

    "I'll admit there's something endearing about him, but he is most definitely not cute."

    "Suit yourself." She continues to rub Nyx's shoulder, using her fingers to attempt working out whatever is causing the tension and discomfort.

    "Oi, get a room."

    At the sound of the boy's edgy voice, Nyx and Mia turn their heads with a jolt. There he stands, in the baggy secondhand t-shirt and cargos that Mia had acquired for him, holding the pants up with one hand. His other arm is raised in an almost protective position over his chest, revealing a deep laceration near the elbow.

    "That's why you needed the sutures," Nyx mutters, pushing Mia's hands off and hopping down from the counter. "Let's see your arm, pal."

    "I can do it myself," the boy snarls, pulling away.

    "Ya sure? That's a pretty awkward angle to stitch yourself from."

    "I SAID I CAN DO IT!" The boy's volume supersedes human abilities somehow, and the two Wits in his presence remain stunned in place. No doubt they are both wondering once more what they've gotten themselves into.

   Silence hangs thick in the small kitchen as the feral boy snatches up the first aid kit and sits on the floor, digging through it to find nothing even remotely related to a surgical thread and needle. He mutters to himself in Latin, his frustration very great.

    Nyx and Mia continue to exchange looks.

    What is he?! Mouths the girl, to which Nyx only shrugs.

    Low growling sounds accompany the boy's efforts to press his wound shut, sealing it with butterfly bandages and wrapping it with gauze and medical tape. It is a crude job, but a secure one.

    He remains seated on the floor, picking up the blanket again and wrapping it around his aching body. Observing the two Wits before him, his eyes settle on Nyx's shoulder. Suddenly he seems to ignore his pain, leaping from where he is seated and hurrying to suck the venom out of Nyx's wounds.

    "HE'S ATTACKING YOU AGAIN!!!" Mia screeches, grabbing the nearest pan and brandishing it overhead.

    "I don't think–"

    The feral boy snarls at Mia and her weapon of choice before Nyx hushes him, urging everyone to just stand down.

    "What're you doing?!"

    "Sucking the venom out. If I don't, you'll lose mobility. Personally I couldn't care less about you, but I owe you one."

    "It...it feels wrong."

    "Imagine this from MY perspective. I don't even want to be doing this but your antidote's too weak." And with that he finishes the venom's removal, afterwards dramatically spitting it out in the sink. "Yuck. Do you ever shower?!"

    Nyx gets defensive, "Hey! I'm covered in YOUR blood and YOUR sweat and YOUR saliva!"

    "THAT DIDN'T TASTE LIKE MINE, YOU GREASY PIG!"

    "I... I don't even want to know how you know that," Nyx falters, rolling his shoulder and noting that it does indeed feel a little better. At least, the awful burning sensation is gone.

    With a glare and another little snarl, the feral boy dives to the floor again and huddles under the blanket. He no longer wishes to engage with anyone at this time, and he wants to make sure they are aware of that. Of course, his actions cause them to murmur between themselves. Fools. Don't they realize he can hear every word?

    "Humans don't have venom!" The girl is panicking again. "And did you see his wristband?!"

    "Yeah..."

    "What the hell is he?!"

    "I don't know–"

    "Where did you find him again?!"

    "In an alley–one of the gangs was gonna beat him to death–"

    "So you had to intervene?!"

    "I couldn't just leave him to die!"

    "You stooped too low. And I, by association, have done the same." She folds her arms.

   Nyx sighs and tries to reason with her, "It isn't stooping too low if it means saving a life."

    "People like him don't need saving! They're monsters!"

    Nyx's voice becomes firm, almost a growl. "You take that back. Right. Now."

    "We could be arrested for this, you do realize that, right?" Mia hisses, dodging the opportunity to revoke her previous statement. "Is that what you want? Detaintment for bringing one of them into a human residence he's not authorized to enter?"

    "Mimi." Nyx's tone is dangerous now. "He's no less a person than you or I. He needed help, and I wasn't going to deny it to him. We should be more merciful. He's just a kid, after all. Just like us."

    "But he's not like us–"

    "Yes he is. Another word about this and I will tell your dad you've been sneaking out at night to meet Davy."

    "Oh my g–please don't, Nyx," she pleads.

    "Then you be respectful to little punk. Just because he's different doesn't mean we should treat him that way. C'mon, you know this. Your dad taught you this."

    Mia remains silent, her arms still firmly crossed. Nyx moves to the lump on the floor that is the feral boy, who has overheard their entire hushed conversation. He gives the boy a gentle nudge, mindful that the boy is basically injured all over.

    "You want anything to eat, mate?"

    Low growling noises arise from the blanketed figure, followed by a harsh response, "You already fed me earlier, idiot."

     "Geez, calm down. You inhaled it so fast I thought maybe you'd want more."

     "No."

     "Alright then." Nyx is silent for a couple of beats before raising another question, one that has no doubt been plaguing his and Mia's minds from the get-go: "You got a home?"

    The boy stares at the floor in complete silence, seeming to weigh the question very seriously before giving a slow nod in response to this question. Nyx and Mia exchange glances before Mia decides to speak up, wringing her hands nervously, "Um... I can't legally let you stay here..."

    "Mimi," hisses Nyx, jabbing her side with his elbow.

    "What! I can't!"

    "I know that! He knows that! You don't need to state the obvious!"

    "I–" she looks as if she's about to cry, and doesn't press the matter further, instead using her thumb to push her bottom lip beneath her teeth and holding it there.

    "Bloody hell. Just make out all ready," the feral kid states, getting up from the floor and swaying a bit. His legs ache and tremble in protest at being used, but he ignores this as he makes his way to the front door and lets himself out.

    "What the hell–"

    "You're seriously just gonna let him say stuff like that?!" Mia blurts, her face a deep shade of red.

    Nyx shrugs and rubs his neck, stammering incoherencies as he moves in the direction of the door, "I'd...better go after him. Thanks for everything."

    "Sure." With a toss of her head, she just rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow, pulling the door open before he has the chance.

    "Seriously, thank you," he reiterates in all seriousness.

    "You're welcome. Go after your new pet before you lose him."

    "He's not my–"

    "Yes he is. Admit it. See you at practice on Thursday, playboy. And you better not cancel." Winking, she closes the door on him. Nyx sighs and descends the front steps. The feral boy is sitting there, motionless and still huddled in the blanket they had given him.

    "Suppose you're ready to get home and rest those injuries, huh."

    At this, the boy looks at him with such hurt and terror that Nyx has to wonder if maybe he spoke out of turn. Mouth set in a grim line, he helps the boy to his feet and starts walking with him back to the subway. The kid limps along, grunts and hisses of pain accompanying each movement.

    As they board the train, the boy looks at Nyx with fearfulness. It's like he is pleading not to go home.

    "I'd take you to my place, but..." Nyx doesn't finish, and the kid nods in understanding.

    "I know," he mumbles. "It's illegal."

    "Sorry pal."

    "Nah...it's fine. I can... I can take care of myself." As they step off the train and ascend into the rainy atmosphere of Urbana, the kid shrugs the blanket off and hands it to Nyx. "We can part here. Thanks again."

    "No problem bucko. You get some good rest, okay?"

    "Sure. Yeah." The boy musters a weak grin, which ends up looking more threatening than friendly due to the swelling and fresh blood.

     "I'll have Mimi wash your old clothes. Anyplace I can drop 'em off for you?"

     "Uh..." the boy steps into one of the closest alleys and points to a stack of crates. "Here's fine."

     "Aight." With a salute, Nyx turns and starts walking away. He carries himself with unease and hesitancy, no doubt fearing the worst if he leaves the feral kid alone.

     Once Nyx is out of sight, the boy sits down on the crates and sobs; the action only causes his wounds to hurt worse, and the pain increases further as he is reminded of what likely awaits when he gets home.

     Or maybe the Mother won't be home tonight.