The next day Caelum sneaks into his parents room and grabs his mother's makeup. With every dab of foundation and brush of powder that hides the bruises, a grimace of pain contorts his face.

But changing is worse.

Every time he stretches his arms above his head to slip on his shirt and later his hoodie, tears well up in his eyes. It even hurts to bend down and tie his shoes. Everything hurts.

And still, he hesitates.

He debates on staying and watching over the thing, afraid of leaving only to find it dead when he finally returns.

His eyes trace over its body, it's thin and frail and human. Its face is pale, lashes dark as they fan across sunken cheeks. It certainly looks human, but Caelum know better.

And he knows its dying.

He bites his lip carelessly and a flood of salty iron soon fills his mouth as the cut reopens.

Despite the painful reminders urging him to go and obey the promised threats, he can't move.

He's too scared of what could happen if he leaves.

He approaches the bed and looks at the thing before whispering firmly, "you can't die, okay? I'm just gonna go for a little, but I'll be right back. Just... you can't die. You've survived this far, right? So, no dying."

He feels a little ridiculous, but he can't help it, "You just can't."

He grabs his bag and steps out his room, heart hammering inside his chest with each step he takes away from the closed door.

He doesn't look back.

He knows that if he does, the urge to stay will only increase and he'll find himself with another beating.

That doesn't mean he pays attention in class.

He can't concentrate, his thoughts always stray to the thing alone and in pain and dying.

That thought makes him want to go back, to sneak out of school and just skip. Damn the consequences.

But he doesn't, because deep down he knows he's afraid of the man that's his step-dad, of what that man can and will do to him (and has done).

So, he sits in his desk with his foot tapping incessantly and simply zones out. His eyes stray outside the window more than once, but he doesn't stop himself. His teachers drone on and on about parabolas, limits, Beowulf, sulfuric acid, one thing or another. It's all a gumble.

And the urge to leave only seems to grow the longer he stays away from his house, his room.

It comes as a wave of relief that crashes over him when the final bell rings. He hurries through the halls as invisible as ever and practically runs out the building.

The taste of freedom is so good.

There's a nervous excitement running through his body at the prospect of going home, of making sure the thing is still alive.

But he stops in his tracks, panting breathless as he stares at the thing before him.

It still looks human, of course it does. But it's awake and moving.

"Uoy," it says, taking rattling breaths.

At the sound of its croaky voice, Caelum approaches it, quickly snapping out of his trance.

"What are you doing here?" He asks panicked.

The thing leans against him as soon as he's within arms reach and Caelum takes its weight without question.

"Uoy," it repeats.

Caelum's heart is beating rapidly, so hard he can barely think, "Why are you here? Why aren't you back home?"

"Emoh?"

"No," Caelum frowns as the weight gets heavier and heavier, "no, no, no. You can't just come out here and faint."

He drags the thing as best he can, struggling to walk with the added weight until they make it to his house just like the first time.

"Uoy knaht," it grunts as Caelum places it on his bed.

"I'll take that as a thank you," he pants softly, dropping his bag on the floor, "now wait here."

He rushes back downstairs and makes some tea and PB & J sandwiches. It's not much but he has a feeling the thing is hungry after not eating anything while he was gone. The tea will hopefully help with the thing's croakiness and sore throat. He also read that it might reduce any inflammation so maybe it'll help them both in that department.

Soon enough, he grabs the plate of sandwiches and makes it work with the cups of tea.

When he reaches his room, he notices the thing laying in bed, eyes closed and breathing harshly.

"I'm back," Caelum whispers softly, closing the door with his foot and setting down their food and drinks, "can you sit up?"

It takes a while, but after a few tense minutes the thing manages to sit up, its back resting against the headboard.

And Caelum knows it can understand him. Caustiously, so as not to startle it, he hands it a cup of tea and he watches amused as the thing looks at it weirdly.

"I know," he snorts softly, "it's blue."

Cautiously, it takes a small sip with a hum following right after.

"Slow down," Caelum smiles, handing it a sandwich next.

The thing devours the food ravenously and Caelum scarfs down his own in pure hunger.

"Uoy knaht," it says before frowning.

Caelum is about to complain about needing to learn how to communicate before it clears its throat and tries again, "Thank you."

Its voice is still rough with a hint of... not human, but its words are clear and English. Caelum was not prepared and he can't help but gawk in surprise.

"You... talk?"

It gives a tentative nod, "and you, are human."

Caelum splutters, "Of course I am, what are you?"

"I..." it pauses briefly before taking a deep breath, "I am what your kind calls an alien."