Work Text:
Virgil wasn’t very good at keeping track of time here. His holding cell was basic aside from the new living additions as of late and he had never learned how to tell how often his fights were. He could be fighting twice a day, for all he knew. He never saw any visible clocks and he was pretty sure that even if he did catch sight of one, it would not be in a language he understood. Hell, he might not understand what a clock here looks like. Did they tell time the same? What if a day for them was a month for Earth?
That made Virgil a bit uncomfortable.
His muscles ached from tonight’s fight. He didn’t know the name of the alien that he’d fought but it was big and it hurt. Not to mention his stomach turned as he remembered the feel of a Strucher’s body under his hands. It was so small, it had to be just a kid. Virgil felt terrible. He wanted to throw up and tear off his hands and end this bloody nightmare once and for all—
Virgil exhaled despite the complaint of his diaphragm and walked further into his cell. His corner was empty as usual and his jacket was still folded where he’d left it. That was at least a little relieving. He set down the basket in the center and reached in, grabbing his share before retreating to his usual corner.
He and the aliens had made a… Not quite a friendship but something more of a truce.
The guards had begun giving extra food to Virgil. The right thing, the survivalist thing, was to eat it all himself. To tear into every extra ration and keep up his strength and to not allow the others any bit of it because he needed to stay alive.
Virgil, instead of hoarding, had come to find out the Royariic and the D’Ceitaarii enjoyed the weird space alien meat and the Logixari and Morafur preferred the space pomegranate. He had no way of knowing what the others wanted specifically so he had simply taken his own share back to his corner and left the rest of the basket out in the open for the others to take. He’d sat in his corner, chewing on some alien meat, and watched as each came over and picked a fair portion of what they wanted.
The Morafur had grabbed the D’Ceitaarii’s for it — him? Virgil really knew nothing about space gender — and the red Royariic had taken enough for it and the green one.
The first time of this fluid communication, however, was not before plenty of chirps from the Morafur and a stern trill from the Logixari.
Honestly, the first time Virgil had heard the trill, it reminded him of his history teacher. All to the point and confused about the usage of slang. It would’ve made the human laugh if he hadn’t been dealing with a particularly nasty bruised jaw that day.
Pulling himself back to the present, Virgil realized as he slid down into his corner, legs tucked underneath his body as he placed his back to the wall, wasn’t unlike the one he was having now. His jaw wasn’t bruised but his cheekbone had been sliced by a rather sharp tail of a RE’Mar and although it wasn’t actively bleeding anymore, it still hurt. His knuckles hurt and his legs were sore. His only solace was, once again, chewing on some space meat and watching the aliens in his cell come up to the basket cordially and take out their portion.
The Logixari took it’s due pomegranate out of the basket and returned to it’s corner but then turned to Virgil. He’d expect some trills towards some of the other aliens because at least their communication would be easier, but it spoke to him instead.
“Are.. you.. okay?” It’s voice was higher and definitely had a trill to every word, as if it was trying so hard to sound normal and human but it was physically incapable of anything otherwise.
Virgil wasn’t sure why it was asking. Yes, he had a cut on his cheekbone but it had clotted and he was fine. He was certainly no more injured than usual and had even, by now, lost a limp he’d acquired some time ago due to a rough shin kick. None of this meant that Virgil was doing particularly good. He was still kidnapped and forced to fight other creatures and treated like a show pony every supposed-night.
“No, everything fucking hurts and I’m convinced I’m going to die here,” Virgil found himself snapping, a curt tone finding it’s way into his words on accident. He watched the Logixari wince back at his tone and that caused Virgil to sigh. Fuck. He didn’t want to be hostile to anyone in his cell; he’d prefer to keep waking up, thank you.
“Sorry, sorry. You don’t even understand me and I’m snapping at you like it’s your fault. Fuck,” Virgil apologized, bringing one hand up to wipe at his face and push his bangs to the side a little so he could see. Tension was beginning to seep into all of his muscles again and it was beginning to hurt. “I’m just sore and this shit isn’t getting any better. I’m tired and I feel like I’m going fucking insane because I can’t talk to anyone and I just want it to be over. It’s not your fault. And I’m talking a lot. Shit.”
Virgil took his eyes off the Logixari and rubbed his eyes with his hands. He was so tired, he just wanted to eat and pass out, but no. No, he just had to be aggressive to the only ally he’d made so far on the ship and now he was going to fall asleep and they’d kill him and take his jacket and food rations. Wonderful. Just wonderful.
“You… sore?” The voice asked a moment later, and Virgil unshielded his eyes. He’d drawn himself to band one knee and prop his arms up on it while he let the other one relax, and this gave him an unusually comfortable position to relieve a bit of back pain. If he just stretched a little— Virgil gave a content sigh at the stretching of the sore muscle.
“Yeah, a little fuckin’ bit. They take me out every night because they make me fight other aliens. I’m basically in a fight club but I didn’t volunteer. I get my ass kicked and the only reason I survive is— wait.” Virgil stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, something clicking in his brain.
The Logixari had heard him speak a full few sentences and it knew to focus on the word sore. It had knowingly asked him if he was sore and in pain. Virgil’s eyes squinted a little bit in suspicion at the other alien, who looked blank at him and trilled back.
“Can you understand me?” Virgil asked, suspicion in every syllable and eyes locked on the Logixari. It’s three eyes stared at him, scrutinizing but not unkind, before it responded.
“Yes.”
Virgil felt time stop for a moment.
He’d been deprived of his world for… God, Virgil didn’t actually know. He didn’t know how long he’d been gone from Earth and the fellowship of other English speakers. Any spare English word that he caught being thrown around during his fight was always a misdirection from the audience watching him and so, despite the ache in his heart, he’d come to ignore them. He’d come to the conclusion that nobody spoke his language here and he figured he’d die never hearing it again.
But here, even if for a brief moment, Virgil had hope. Someone was speaking to him and it sounded like English. They were conversing proper since the first time the aliens arrived and it made Virgil’s skin crawl. Whether that was good or bad, he didn’t know and he didn’t care.
“How?” Virgil practically choked on the word.
Before the Logixari could explain, the green Royariic got up from across the cell. While the Logixari trilled at it scoldingly, it came very quickly over to Virgil and sat down right in front of his now curled up body, something in it’s clasp. It’s wide eyes, wagging tail, and weirdly drawn mouth did very little to convince Virgil he wasn’t about to be mauled but, ignoring those warning signs, he held out his shaking hand to receive whatever he was being given.
What Virgil was given was a glorified earring.
It looked pretty identical, actually. A bright green ball was affixed to the end of a small, lengthy metal piece that looked identical to other earrings that the human had seen before. A typical stud earring that he had seen a thousand times. He’d previously seen it pierced through the Royariic’s ear — or what Virgil had assumed was an ear — but as Virgil glanced up, was now notably missing from the skin. A piercing that would…
Virgil had an idea.
Virgil, pushing away all of his anxiety that he felt at the idea of putting a strange item in his mouth, pulled the backing off of the earring and then proceeded to stick it through the hole in his tongue.
His tongue piercing had been a gift from a friend’s parent on his fourteen birthday. It wasn’t totally legal for him to get it but it was one of the few birthday presents he’d ever gotten so he’d been excited. His ears weren’t pierced but Virgil had insisted on a tongue piercing instead of ear piercings. Virgil had even regretted it for quite some time but as the piercing fit so perfectly through the thankfully not yet closed piercing hole, he had never felt more thankful.
The trill from the Logixari and the yip from the Royariic in front of him melted away from trills and yips to audible, understandable words.
“Remus, back up, give the human his space. It’s not safe to be that close to—”
“Can you understand me now? Can you? Can you??”
The Royariic — Remus, Virgil assumed based off of what the Logixari said — was loud and it’s voice was nasally. It was the voice of someone Virgil was pretty sure he’d see on Saturday Night Live or something like that. The Logixari’s voice is softer and more firm, confirming Virgil’s earlier thought of his former history teacher. It almost made Virgil nostalgic.
Virgil blinked in surprise at the sudden influx of English his brain was processing and he immediately felt significantly overwhelmed. He brought both of his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his face immediately being stuffed into the small area he’d made for himself.
Breathe, Virgil, breathe. Breathe.
“Remus, back up! He’s hiding!” Virgil didn’t recognize the voice so he assumed it was one of the other three in the cell. He heard a whiny groan and then some shuffling in front of him. Virgil figures that the Royariic has moved back but his breathing is still quick and he is trying quite hard to not have a panic attack from the overwhelming feelings he’s having.
There was silence in the room, save for whispering too quiet for Virgil to hear. In that silence, Virgil closed his eyes and he tried to recall on whatever his his former therapist had told him. Breathe in, breathe out, breath in for four seconds, hold it for seven seconds, breathe out for eight seconds.
It took five minutes for Virgil to raise his head from his little hiding spot but when he did, he could see the eyes on him. The Royariic had moved back to the corner with it’s brother and now the Logixari was scooted a bit closer to Virgil, looking… Virgil wasn’t sure if the look was concern but it was what Virgil interpreted as concern.
Maybe panic attacks weren’t common on other planets.
“I can understand you,” Virgil finally said as calm as he could.
The Logixari’s hand twitched.
“Good. My name is Logan. I’m sure it is an inappropriate time but I am… rather concerned about whether or not you have swallowed the translator. I do not wish to press but I do worry for your safety,” the Logixari introduced, it’s three eyes flicking up and down his body. Virgil didn’t like being scrutinized like that; it made his skin crawl.
In response to the alien’s concern, Virgil opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, giving Logan a clear view of the translator stuck through his tongue.
Logan’s eyes widened and it leaned closer to Virgil, eyes locked on the piercing. It looked rather concerned by human standards but Virgil did not know anywhere near as much about alien culture and their society to understand what was and wasn’t a concerned expression.
“I… do forgive me but have you pierced your oral muscle?”
Virgil took his tongue back into his mouth and gave a small nod. “Yeah, some time ago.”
“Voluntarily?!”
Virgil heard the words from across the cell and then suddenly, there were two Royariic in front of him, almost-paws clasped onto his leg like excitable children would when offered candy. Their eyes were slitted and focused on Virgil’s mouth. Hell, their excitement was just short of reaching over and prying Virgil’s tongue out of his mouth themselves.
Tentatively, Virgil stuck his tongue out again. They lit up. Their eyes widened and their tails wagged back and forth behind them.
“That’s so cool!”
“I want one!”
Virgil didn’t expect this to be the first proper conversation that he would have with aliens but, in the grand scheme of things, he didn’t much mind. It was more conversation than he’d had in… He didn’t even know. It was almost comedic that the first conversation they’d have would be about something completely trivial.
Virgil was grateful to finally understand what click-trill meant.