" Austin, tape four still. "
["You're sure there's enough of the tape left?" "Yes..."]
I woke up feeling miserable. I scrambled out of bed without even checking to see where I was, and was soon over-come by the urge to faint. Why was I so weak? My vision blacked out, but started to fuzz back in before I could worry. I felt someone was supporting me around my waist. *Lenon? Was I back where I'd started? No,* I reminded myself, *Lenon is dead.*
I looked up into a humanoid face, my eyes still seeing black spots. From what I could see and comprehend, he looked sunburnt. Human, but with definitely a bad case of sunburn, and possibly a weight problem. How could I be back on Earth already? Oh, how I wanted to be... but wasn't it more likely I'd crashed again on that awful planet? This, after all, was just another town. I couldn't be back home, could I?
He gently led, half-carried me back to the bed. A cold bed, still not warm after the covers were pulled over me. I was scared of this man; it looked like he lifted weights for a living. But he must have been the one to bring me there; he must have been the one who found me dying somewhere. Indeed, I felt as if I was still dying. My throat and lungs burned with every breath, I could barely even stand on my own, and it was hard to focus.
The man sat down in a chair beside me, and with a concerned look, surveyed the room. I followed his gaze from the off-white door on my right, to the off-white closet on my left, to the off-white wall behind me, and the windowsill of the same color opposite me, with too bland potted plants. What, was I color blind now?
Feeling strangely subdued, my gaze found it's way back to the man at my side. He, at least, wasn't off white, except for his T-shirt, pants, and socks. His skin was dull red, and his hair and eyes a type of chocolate-brickred. He looked as I felt almost: as if he'd been up a few days straight, and had a rough time of it. And he was big. He was of average height, but thickly built and looked to be in good shape. It was unnerving to have him there while I felt so weak. He could crush me, do anything to me, and he had yet to attempt speech. I gulped nervously, possibly fearfully, and waited for him to do something.
Humming softly and watching my every move, his eyes sharp and attentive, he searched a small lamp desk immediately to my right (off white, of course) and picked out a thermometer. Carefully, he laid a hand on my chest. I couldn't breath, his weight too much and my body so weak. I started to wheeze and fight, both my hands on his one arm, trying to lift it.
He eased up completely, nervously and surprised. It was as if he didn't expect me to have lungs at all, and why should it hurt me so to do such a simple thing? But to me he was an impossibly heavy giant.
He frowned pensively, still holding the thermometer.
I grew impatient that he did not speak. Fine, so he wanted to take my temperature? Maybe he was deaf. That would explain it. I took the instrument from him, though he seemed worried and confused about it.
I stuck the stupid thing in my mouth.
See? I don't bite. "
["I disagree. I think you're a mean, inhum---" [the tape cuts off]]
" Ahem! Tape five! Like I said we needed to before... "
[Deep voice, "Name, please."]
" Austin, tape five.
He still had no idea what was going on. Like a three month old had just spoken in whole sentences to him. I felt indignant about it. He seemed to think I was an idiot or something, and he hadn't even heard me speak yet!
[someone laughs]
As soon as the thermometer ordeal was over, he pressed a cup to my mouth, forcing me to drink. Naturally, I gagged, then choked on it. This threw everything into confusion, surprising us both. I was trying not to die, and he was trying not to kill me. But it wasn't working. He gave me something else, as if to wash the water down. What, didn't he know I was human? I may have choked on it, but I do drink water on my own... and this stuff was a thick, bittersweet liquid.
I pushed this new drink away, trying not to throw up.
The look of disgust on my face seemed to amuse the guy, and he tried again to make me drink it. But my adrenaline was still pumping from the almost-choking-to-death thing, and I refused adamantly, adding, "No way. Stay away from me you klutz." Afraid he'd try to make me drink it again, I made HIM drink it. He didn't seem to like the taste either.
"See?"
He shook his head sadly and somehow got me to drink the rest without killing me.
Grumbling incoherently, I got back out of bed. He shook his head unapprovingly and shoved me back down.
"Hey!" I protested, getting angry.
He began humming again, and opened the window. Pulling another sheet out of the closet, he draped the thing over me.
"Don't you think that's hot enough? Can't you even hear me?" I complained.
I caught a glimpse of a bathroom before he shut a door to it. I sighed loudly, and started peeling off the blankets. Just a minute ago I had been unsoluably cold, but the blankets were thick. He bent over me with a reassuring smile, covering me back up. This was not going well. The last thing I wanted was to start a fight, but it was stifling under there and I didn't want to stay in bed forever. Where I thought I would find the strength to stay up without more sleep I don't know.
I felt stiff, like I'd been in bed too long. That was it, I had to get up before I developed rigor mortis. Complaining, my muscles carried me to the window, and then-- "
~~~Staliarn, medical journal~~~
As soon as the creature seemed content, I checked the door's lock. Now that the animal was conscious, and therefore improving in health, the lock had to be operational in case of an emergency.
Satisfied, I turned back toward the bed, but the creature was no longer where I had left it. I quickly glanced around the room, and noticed him leaning against the window sill.
Since it had been attempting to communicate verbally earlier, I said in the most soothing tone I could manage, "Hey, come back here..." I had no idea if he would respond, or if he could indeed hear me, but it disturbed me that he didn't even move. I approached him carefully, "You've got to recuperate, don't you? Come back to bed."
I laid a hand on his shoulder gently, but found no response.
"Excuse me?" I cautioned, leaning over to see its face.
He was asleep, slumped against the window-sill for no apparent reason. I sighed and looked at the banarian plants on either side of the sill, both in full bloom.
I slipped my hand around his waist and carried him back to bed, careful to cover him warmly as he had seemed to need before. "Maybe you'll stay there this time," I grumbled to myself, feeling that whatever it was, it was a brat of a child. It looked too human to be grown up, because of it's size. That is, because it resembled my own species so much, its size indicated that it was a child. That was an assumption, but still something to go by. Obviously, a stubborn, thick creature. At least I had gotten him to eat, though I knew not whether what I fed him was anything close to his natural diet. I had only his weight, appearance, and my experience as a vet to guess by, and I felt confidant enough by that for the time being.
The creature groaned, and I turned back to him with a worried frown. When I had found him, he had been suffering from extreme hypothermia and had been delusional for five days, waking up only this morning. He groaned again, and shifted under the blankets. I knelt beside his bed and gave the ritual prayer that he would be well soon, then checked his temperature.
The ways of the Lord are surely mysterious, for the creature would not be healed as of yet; his fever was rising rapidly. I relieved him of several blankets.
Hour 17, 5 above.
Hour 18, 15 above.
Hour 19, 21 above.
Hour 20, 35 above.
Hour 1, 52 above.
Hour 2, 85 above his regular temperature.
I could only watch and pace after having done all I could think of for his fever. He was obviously in agony, and not at all himself. I tried to comfort him, but to no avail. I did everything I could to bring his fever down, and finally, on the next hour, hour 3, it was only 43 above.
Hour 4, 17 above.
Hour 5, 2 above.
At hour 6, he seemed to be at his normal temperature again, much to my relief. He would need close watching, though, for I doubt he could have stood another fever such as this one. What he needed most was to eat well again, and to have no more setbacks.