A/N: Hi lovely people,
I hope you're doing well, despite what's going on in the world. Writing this chapter has been therapeutic - which is ironic, because it wasn't exactly relaxing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did ❄ 

Just a heads-up, in case any of you are new, I write dark erotica sprinkled with sweetness 💙 

Chapter 7. 

Matthew dreamt of running steps again. Of alarms flaring and panicked screams. He was in the stampede, but his sister, mother and brother were standing off the side, safely away from the mob. 

People were shoving past him, running into him. The pressure was crushing, suffocating and he couldn't take a full breath. His family looked on with mild concern and puzzlement. 

"What are you doing? Come here!" Lucy called out to him, stretching out her hand. 

"I can't!" Matthew's own voice startled him awake. He took a rattling breath that ended in fit of coughing. His nose was completely blocked and he couldn't take a full breath. 

Furred bodies shuffled around him and limbs were everywhere. A soft whine sounded in his ear. 

Matthew was suddenly lifted and his head spun. 

"Clio, help me." Mian's voice. 

A low growl sounded. 

"I can't carry him alone. He's ours." Mian said and then Matthew felt a sudden jerk that triggered another bout of coughing. 

Snarls and barks rung in his ears and his awareness faded. In the next moment he was in someone's arms, jolting up and down with icy air on his cheeks. 

He didn't remember how he got in front of the roaring fire, wrapped in heavy furs. Sweat trickled down his face, but he was shivering. 

"- all that matters. We protect our own!" A voice boomed distantly, punctuated by a vicious growl. 

"I am protecting my own!" A younger voice echoed through the caverns. 

"Drink." Fie's soft voice was much closer, pressing a bowl of warm broth to his lips. Matthew managed a few gulps, but then he had to turn his head and cough, flinching when it sent a sharp pain through his chest. 

The voices grew distant and sleep pulled him under. 

He didn't know what was dream or reality. He had dazed impressions of voices, hands touching him and his own laboured breaths. 

At one point, his head was covered and he was trying to breathe through sweltering steam. Wetness dripped from his nose and into his mouth, salty and disgusting. It was a relief when the cover lifted and he got to blow his nose and hack up thick globs of slime.  

He was often shaken awake and forced to drink or eat, but he just wanted to sleep. 

He didn't know how much time had passed, when he woke to wetness running over his legs and chest. His eyes felt glued to his cheeks, but he managed to force them open. 

The coal black eyes gazing down at him made his heart stop for a moment. But then he recognised Fie's softly rounded features. 

He relaxed as a rough cloth passed over his groin. Maybe he should have felt embarrassed, but he was too spent to care. 

"Hungry?" Fie whispered and Matthew shook his head, feeling lightheaded afterwards. Belatedly he remembered Fie probably didn't know the gesture. 

He wet his dry lips and opened them to speak, but a hand was already slipping behind his nape, lifting his head, and a bowl pressed against his mouth. He forced himself to drink. The broth was hot and full of salt, coating his lips in an oily film. 

Fie gently lowered his head and Matthew closed his eyes. He listened to the quiet snap of the fire and the light tinkling of a cloth being wrung over a bowl of water. Then Fie was slipping in behind him, arm folding around his waist. 

"Your breathing sounds better." The boy murmured. 

"It feels better." Matthew mumbled and coughed. His ribs and chest hurt, as if they were bruised, but he was able to take a full blessed breath. 

"Tell me if you need anything." Fie's soft lips brushed Matthew's nape. 

"Mm." Matthew kept his eyes closed and fumbled for the alien's hand on his stomach. His fingertips slipped over delicate claws as he threaded their fingers. 

He was jolted awake by a sting on his chin and found himself staring into the huge dark eyes of a kit. It yipped and darted back a few steps. 

"That's rude, Nilen." Mian's voice was warm in his ear and Matthew slowly became aware of the alien's body pressed against him. 

The kit wet its lips with a tiny black tongue and flicked its ears forward. It was so young, it was still on all fours and trembling with excitement.

"Nilen, come here!" A female alien was watching them from her own furs, face tense. 

"He won't hurt her. He's harmless." Mian kissed Matthew beneath the ear and licked his pulse. 

The female's ears lowered, but she remained silent when the kit pounced again, this time to nip Matthew's nose with sharp teeth. It scampered backwards, plumey tail wagging. 

"Ow." Matthew's nose smarted and he twisted away, shifting to press his front against Mian. He tucked his face against the alien's neck. The kit yipped twice, voice high and shrill. 

He heard the female snort and growl. The kit whined. 

Mian's chuff against Matthew's ear sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "If you're a Santh, you have much to learn. Nilen will never forget that." 

"M' tired." Matthew muttered, feeling a thread of annoyance. He was so drained, he could barely talk. He didn't care that he was seeking refuge in Mian's arms...from a baby. 

"I know." Mian nudged Matthew's head with his brow and licked his shoulder, calloused hand stroking down the Human's spine. 

Sometime later, he was woken again to Fie bringing him more stew. He should have been sick of the same flavor by now, but instead his stomach growled eagerly. He held the bowl in trembling hands, drinking the salty mixture and chewing tender chunks of meat, and something mushy that might have been a root. 

That evening, he was lucid enough to notice that they didn't retreat to the sleeping cavern. 

"I didn't want to move you. So we kept a fire lit." Fie explained, crouching to place a bowl of water on the floor. He wrung out a cloth and pulled back the fur to wipe Matthew's sweaty skin. 

The Human cringed when a female passed them with a large pouch slung over her shoulder. She knelt by the fire and poured blue stones into the hearth. He wondered how stone could burn, but he didn't want to ask and draw attention to himself. 

Fie was watching him carefully and the boy's quiet smile seemed sympathetic. "Maybe we can go to the baths tomorrow." 

Matthew's flush deepened and he nodded, feeling an equal mix of gratitude and shame. Several aliens were nuzzling and talking on furs nearby and one female stood to approach them. 

Her white face was lined with age and her hair was short, fluffing around delicate features. She could have been anywhere from fifty to eighty years old. Matthew couldn't tell.

She knelt, folding her legs beneath her, and touched Matthew's neck. He blinked up at her, startled, as she ran her fingers briskly over the sides of his throat and prodded below his jaw, claws light on his skin. 

She parted his lips with her thumb and bent her head to sniff at his mouth, then gently pulled down each of his eyelids. 

Finally, she lowered her head and pressed her long ear to his chest, black eyes closing, as though she was falling asleep. For a long moment her thin face remained still and then she sat up, looking at Fie. 

"The worst of the sickness is gone. I think he will recover before the ice, but he will have to be cautious this time and stay warm." She smiled down at Matthew and combed her fingers through his hair. Strangely, the Human wasn't offended, instead he found himself blinking back tears. 

She touched him as if she knew him and cared about him, even though he was a stranger and no doubt causing them a great deal of inconvenience. 

Fie leaned forward to lick her chin. "Thank you, Donu." 

She scratched Matthew's head and moved back to her furs, curling up with a few slender aliens. Everyone around them was relatively small and svelte, Matthew noticed. 

Fie stretched, silver-white tail curling, and snuggled against Matthew. The Human closed his eyes, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Fie nosed his shoulder and whined a question. 

"I'm just..." Matthew took a breath and tried to get a hold of himself. "Really grateful to you. To all of you. You didn't have to do this." 

Fie stared at him and tilted his head. "Yes, I did." 

Matthew frowned, taken aback for a moment. "But...you hardly know me and you probably saved my life. Twice now." 

Fie's head and ears lowered. "That doesn't matter. It was my fault that you took sick. I brought you up before the fires were lit." 

Matthew's heart thumped painfully. Was Fie only helping him, because he felt he had to? Did he even like Matthew or would the boy do this for anyone? 

"You couldn't have known this would happen." He mumbled and blinked rapidly against the warmth in his eyes. "I just want to thank you." 

Fie's onyx eyes darted back up to Matthew's face and his white lips parted, revealing the tips of his fangs. "Did I hurt you?" 

"No." Matthew lied and sniffled. Oh god, he was starting to cry and he probably didn't have any good reason to. He knew he misunderstood these aliens half the time. He might have a translator, but he didn't know their customs or beliefs. 

He looked away and tried to ease back a fraction on the fur. Privacy was clearly a foreign concept here, but just then Matthew would have liked some time to himself; to be alone with his thoughts. He'd never felt this exhausted and vulnerable before. 

Clawed fingertips turned his cheek and then lips were slanting over his mouth, a black tongue slipping softly between his lips.