Thunder (G/T P!Septiplier)

The Aborigine and the Outsider

The next few days felt like moons. Mark watched over Jack nonstop, but the human didn't wake for a very long time. When he asked Amy what was wrong, she simply shrugged and said, "These sorts of things take time." She changed the wrappings and gave the tiny man lots of tea to keep him sedated, and kept his needs satisfied, but still the human did not regain consciousness. Mark never went anywhere without Jack, and for that he came up with the excuse to stay with Amy to help her with the pelts.

"I know Tyler's going to call for the march any day now," Mark had told Ethan, "And with the issen fÿre, it's only a matter of time. We need to be prepared." So Mark was given permission to not hunt or patrol, and he could stay with Amy and their secret patient.

As he did work on the pelts, cleaning them while Amy sewed coats and thermal covers for the tents, he kept glancing over at Jack. They had swaddled him in some of the fur to keep him warm and comfortable, but it didn't hurry anything. Mark still worried. They knew nothing about this strange creature that looked just like them. Was its anatomy even the same? Working helped Mark pass the time, but it didn't slow the countless questions pounding in his skull.

Then there was a time when Amy was out gathering herbs, and Mark was alone with Jack. He picked dirt out of a thick white pelt and smoothed the fur down, when he suddenly felt someone's presence. He first checked the entrance to the tent, worried that someone had happened upon their secret, but no one was around. He returned to his seat and sighed, glancing over at Jack. And then he became alert.

Jack was moving. It wasn't much, but the tiny human was actually moving. His thick brow furrowed as he slowly rolled over on his side, facing Mark. Mark watched with hushed awe as Jack bundled part of the fur up in his arms and used it as a pillow, and he curled up slightly with his knees tucked. "Líten häna," Mark breathed softly. The human's eyes were still closed, and the young warrior had a feeling that the infinitesimal man wasn't aware of his circumstances yet. But it was more movement than Mark had seen in a quarter of a moon, and this excited him. No, he was relieved, not eager. He reminded himself to keep a broad and careful approach about everything; including his very thoughts.

And before he carried on with his work, Mark decided for sure that the tiny creature was not some object to be called an it.

Jack's eyes opened slowly. The sloppy patter of sleet met his ears, and his nose twitched as he caught the smell of fragrant herbs. He wondered dimly what had made him wake up until he noticed that there was a beeping in his ear. He reached up slowly with a groan and pushed the small chip on his neck, and he heard Susie's mechanical voice.

"Translation at ten percent completion," she announced. "Algorithm for the extraterrestrial language of MTXY-5-C92 is being calculated, stand by for the incomplete result." The hell? Jack scrunched his nose up and moaned when he tried to move. His back felt like it was on fire, and his muscles were sluggish and barely responding.

As he went still and tried to remember the last thing that happened before he had fallen unconscious, he heard the tent flaps pull apart, and a shadow crossed over him.

"Good news," Mark's deep and powerful voice rumbled in the alien language, "Tyler said we're finally moving out tomorrow."

"Finally!" Amy sighed gladly. "We've only got a few more pelts left before they're all done. Care to help?"

"Of course." Jack's breath was stuck in his throat as Mark assisted Amy with the last of the furs. What's going on? Is that talking? And what the fuck kind of language is that? Thanks to his translator, he understood two or three words, like moving or help, but it was certainly not enough to help him comprehend the foreign words that the two giants rumbled.