Caelum talks to the thing. He tells it things he's kept hidden deep inside from everyone else. He sometimes hums and sings to himself, forgetting about the being all together. It's a presence that makes him feel safe, calm, and always at the back of his mind.

It's been three days since he found it and the thing has been... surviving for lack of a better word.

It still agonizes, still mutters words that don't make sense, things that Caelum can't decipher. And it breaks Caelum every time he realizes he can't do anything to help it.

Regardless, he tries to do something about the fever. He dabs away the sweat on its brow and just when he thinks the fever is finally going down, it spikes and becomes worse than before.

It's a battle.

He cleans and dresses the wound, hoping to keep the infection at bay but realizing it's really a losing battle as the black deadly veins continue to spread like wildfire.

Some days Caelum is ready to throw in the towel.

Other days he holds onto hope.

It's on the fourth day that he gets surprised by his step-father.

The man arrives in the middle of the day unannounced as Caelum makes lunch for himself and his comatose guest.

The man looks angry, completely pissed off and it causes Caelum to cower upon his sight.

"You little brat," the man hisses, approaching the boy and twisting the front of his shirt.

"Da-Dad," Caelum stutters terrified.

"I'm not your dad," the man sneers, "you stupid brat, think you're so smart. You thought I wouldn't find out huh? You stupid piece of shit, you think you can just skip school scot free? Didn't think they'd call me to ask about your fucking whereabouts for the past three fucking days."

Caelum flinches.

He hated school, he could never truly fit in and spending time with the thing made him forget about the hell that's his home and the hell that's his school.

He hadn't meant to.

But he did, he skipped school because he'd much rather spend time with something that could kill him than sit in a place he loathed.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to do.

He brings up his arms to cover his face as soon as the first punch is thrown. He's a little too slow and the blow lands against his nose. His teeth bite down on his lip until it's busted and his nose is dribbling blood.

He falls and cries, whimpering and begging for the beating to stop.

He gets no respite, not for the longest of times.

And when the man finally stops, tired and heaving breathlessly, Caelum can barely move.

"That," the man begins, "is for thinking you could disobey me, for thinking you could go against me."

"I'm sorry," the boy sobs.

The man lands one last kick Caelum's stomach before heading to the master bedroom and slamming the door in his rage.

Caelum breathes deeply, wincing at the ache in his lungs before he drags himself up and limps toward his room.

He tenses when he hears the man just before he can lock himself in his room.

"If you skip tomorrow I swear you'll regret it, you little bastard."

He manages a weak, "Yes, sir," before slipping inside.

He's tired and achy and he sniffles painfully as blood continues to trickle down his nose.

He wipes it away with the sleeve of his shirt as he climbs into bed, ignoring the body next to his. He curls up into a tight ball and cries. He cries until his throat is sore, until he can't anymore.

He cries until he falls asleep, the phantom touch of someone wiping away his tears the last thing he feels.

And even then, the kind touch is still too much to bear.