The boy was lost. He stood, naked and shivering, in the middle of a huge, white... place. He was used to white. He thought he was used to white. There was definitely something inside him that said that he knew what white was. But there was also something that said that white places were bad.
This white place was no better than the last white place, he thought. He took a step, and then another, then found himself on his back, with a sharp pain in his bottom and his foot.
"Aw," His voice surprised him; startled him. He was surprised that he had a voice. He didn't know what he was sitting on, but it was cold; very cold. Struggling to get to his feet, he realised it was also very slippery. Slipping and skidding he hurried along. Having no idea where he was going or where he'd been, he simply walked.
After a short time, the slippery white became a soft, powdery white that hurt his feet. No, it was something underneath the white powdery stuff that hurt his feet. Ignoring the pain, he kept walking until his legs gave out and he fell. Surprised, he knelt on the ground and reached out his hand to the beautiful, soft powder that was glittering and sparkling all around him. Suddenly, it was hard to move, hard to do anything. The sparkly stuff seemed to be getting closer and, not long after he realised it was under his cheek, everything went black.
The boy was still lost, but he was no longer cold. As his fluttering eyes cleared, he saw something golden over his head, a long way away. 'Wood,' he thought; and then, 'Ceiling'. The fact that he'd thought anything at all surprised him. And then lots of other thoughts flooded into his head, telling him that he was lying in a 'bed' with a 'pillow' under his head and he was 'warm' and 'comfortable' and... 'safe'. Really? Safe? A worm of fear crawled into his guts. Was he safe?
Thoughts about running away came hot on the heels of the others -- thoughts of danger and pursuit, and pain and... danger. Danger! Danger!
Sitting up, he got a flash of a smallish room with wooden walls and furniture, before the sharp, shocking pain in his head made him fall back again. Okay, maybe 'escape' wasn't an option, just yet.
A soft sound sparked thoughts of 'door' and 'open'; then 'pain' and 'danger'. Gritting his teeth against the feeling he'd labelled 'pain', in his head, he raised it and saw a figure manoeuvring a tray through the door.
"Hey, you're awake. I thought you would be. I've brought you something to eat, if you're up to it."
Closing his eyes, the boy sighed and let his head fall back. He was in no shape to 'fight' or 'run', so he just had to 'accept'. Wetness ran down the side of his face and into his pale blue hair. 'Tears', he thought. 'Crying'.
"Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you." Something touched his arm and he jerked it. "It's okay. You're safe now."
"Ssssssafe?" The voice hissed sibilantly, surprising him again, and he moistened his lips with a quick, forked tongue.
"I know what you are and where you've come from," the person said, as the boy felt the weight of someone sitting on the bed. Turning his head he blinked at the figure which had resolved itself into a young man, with golden skin and fair hair twisted into long plaits either side of a pretty, oval face. Blue eyes twinkled in a friendly way, as the man smiled.
"My name is Dee. I used to... work at the lab, and I know what goes on in there."
"How...?"
"You talked a lot when you were feverish."
"Fever...ishsh?"
"Yes. You've been ill for a few days. I found you collapsed in the snow. You're lucky. If I hadn't found you when I did, you would have died from cold and exposure. How did you come to be out there in the snow, so far from the facility?"
"I... don't... know." It was difficult to talk, and the forked tongue flicked out again, trying to moisten dry lips, with no moisture.
"Oh," Dee said, anxiously, "you must be very thirsty. Here..." Reaching for something from the tray, he slid his hand and then his arm, under the boy's shoulders and lifted him so he was sitting up. The boy's head lolled, the soft blue hair tickling his back, and Dee steadied him against his shoulder, holding him up with a strong arm around his back.
"Easy," he murmured, as he held something hard and cold against the boy's lips.
'Glass', he thought. 'Danger'. "Wh... what...?"
"Just water. I promise."
Still suspicious, the boy opened his lips and let the cold, sweet, water flow into his mouth. It felt so good. Eagerly he swallowed and raised his hand to tip the glass further. Water sloshed over them both, as he drank deeply. When the glass was empty, he frowned, disappointed.
"More?"
"I'll get you more, in a minute. Are you hungry? Could you eat something?"
"Hungry?" He paused, to ponder 'hungry'. "I... ththink..." His abdomen squirmed, as if something was moving under the skin. It didn't hurt, wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was... Unconsciously, the boy smiled. "Yess, hungry," he said.
"Do you have any idea what you like to eat?"
The boy shook his head.
"Well," Dee said, moving the tray so it sat across his knees, "I figured, from your eyes and tongue, you have some reptilian in you somewhere, so I made up a tray with meat. If you don't like it, say so and we'll try something..." He broke off, because, as soon as he saw, and smelled, the meat, the boy's hand had shot forward, and he was throwing impossibly large chunks of raw meat into his mouth, swallowing them without chewing.
"Oookay. Mental note. He likes raw meat."
The boy stopped, licked his lips, and smiled. He wondered why Dee recoiled a little.
"Are you poisonous?" Dee asked, and the boy wondered what 'poisonous' meant.
"I... don't know. What doess it mean?"
"Never mind. Just, never bite me, okay?"
The boy frowned, puzzled. "Why would I -- bite¬ -- you?"
"Never mind. Don't worry. Do you feel better now?"
"I... yess. Feel... ssleepy."
"Then, you should sleep. That's what you need more than anything right now. Let me help you."
Laying aside the tray, Dee held the boy close to him as he fluffed the pillows. The boy thought that he 'liked' the warmth and 'smell' of him, and then he was laid back onto bliss. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Startled, he opened them again, when something soft brushed against the side of his face. It was Dee's hand.
"What's your name?" he asked, and the boy frowned.
A moment ago he would have said that he didn't know, but it came floating to him, from the darkness in his mind. "Ssyththssuththssyss," he murmured. To Dee it sounded like a long hiss interspersed with flicks of the long, forked tongue.
