Caelum paces the length of his room. Eyeing the being (monster, creature, alien thing?) in his bed. Its sleeping, but the gaping wound just below its chest is more than unsettling even as it rises and falls with each labored breath. At least its still alive.

But that's the problem.

The purplish colored blood is steadily turning into a dark inky color. It's thinning and not at all coagulating. Caelum kneels by the side of the bed and changes the second towel in the past hour already soaked through.

The pallor of the very human skin is turning white, lips graying with the kiss of death. He reaches for the bottle of rubbing alcohol and uses a small towel to clean the edges of the wound. The skin is inflamed and raw, the sight almost makes Caelum sick.

He then reaches for one of those thin bed sheets and grabs some scissors to rip up strips. As carefully as he can, he wraps it around the being's chest. He watches slightly fascinated and slightly horrified at the sight of black ichor being soaked up immediately.

"Struh," the (whatever it is) moans, lips moving deliriously in words Caelum can't make out.

"I'm sorry," Caelum whispers, "I'm sorry, I don't know what to do."

He reaches for the bowl of iced water hidden under his bed and shivers when his fingers wrap around a soaked rag. He dabs away at the sweat gathered on the monster's fevered forehead. And Caelum knows it can only mean one thing, the starts of an infection.

"Please," he begs softly, voice wavering, "please don't die."

It's to those words that the thing's eyes open to slits and Caelum can see hints of purple looking back at him. He doesn't know why, but he holds his breath.

"Uoy era ohw?" The being hisses weakly.

"Wha-What?" Caelum squeaks.

"Uoy era ohw?" It repeats.

"I don't understand," he explains helplessly.

But before it can reply it closes its eyes again and its breathing becomes labored, worse-- as if it hurts to stay conscious. Just saying those few words seem to have tired the thing out.

Caelum panics, "No, no, no you're not allowed to die."

He looks around his room, searching for something, anything that could help. But it's useless. For a brief moment he pauses and wonders if he should let the thing die.

As soon as those thoughts enter his mind, he shakes his head.

No.

He can't.

It'd be too cruel.

But when he looks at it again, he can see the agony written on its pallid face and something catches his attention.

"What?" he breathes.

He quickly takes off the makeshift gauze only to discover black spider-like webs resonating from the wound and spreading across the bony chest, even crawling up its neck.

The being sits up before leaning over the side of the bed, startling Caelum.

Caelum falls on his bum and presses his back to the wall across the room. His eyes growing wide as he watches it heave and throw up on the wooden floor of his room. Black bile splattering about.

"Nosiop," the thing coughs weakly.

"No-Nosiop?" Caelum stammers terribly.

It groans in pain as it flops back on the bed.

And the helplessness returns.

"I don't understand you," Caelum huffs, annoyed with himself.

He presses his fist to his head and thinks.

"Struh..."

What should I do?

He looks at the thing, but even he can see that it's deteriorating-- growing weaker.

Slowly, he stands and with a sigh goes in search for a mop.

There's nothing he can do.

His steps are slow and careful, afraid of rousing his parents.

He's not supposed to be up. He's not supposed to be out of his room after being grounded because he was a little late with the food. But he couldn't leave the thing to die in the dumpsters. Not alone.

He tenses when his stomach growls loudly.

He looks down pathetically, the hunger finally making itself known.

He grabs the mop and as a second thought swipes the plate of leftovers that should've been his dinner. Quietly, he takes everything to his room. He knows he'll get a beating in the morning, but he couldn't care any less.

He sneaks back into his room and quietly cleans up the mess on the floor. He then sits on his bed beside the dying creature and takes a bite of cold rice.

"Struh..."

Caelum swallows thickly, crawling toward the thing and offering a spoonful of bland mash.

"Com'on," he insists.

Finally, the thing opens it's thin lips and takes the proffered bite.

Caelum smiles a bit, at least the thing won't die hungry.

He'll count this as a win.

Even as he watches the poison spread throughout its system.