Sunlight (oneshot)

[Azdgari]

A District 9 oneshot at the end of the summer. Continuation was planned but scrapped because of lack of time.


THIS FIC IS PG-13. ANYONE WHO HAS SEEN DISTRICT 9 WILL UNDERSTAND WIKUS' AFFINITY WITH A CERTAIN F-WORD. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THIS WORD, PLEASE DO NOT READ THE STORY.

Seriously though, I think that the F-word is important to keeping Wikus who he is, but if the staff have a serious problem with it, I can censor it.


.sunlight.

"[censored]!" Wikus yelled after stubbing his toe on a chunk of garbage on the floor of his shack. He'd misjudged how large his feet were. He clumsily grabbed his throbbing toe, lost his balance, and fell. His face hit the dry, cracked ground. "[censored], [censored] this." Wikus moaned gently, his face parallel with the ground as he cried gently. His cries formed a sort of sober whining sound. Hearing it only reminded Wikus more of how he was no longer human, and he wept all the more for it. It had been three weeks since Christopher had left. Wikus spent most of that time either scavenging for food, crying, or on the ground in agony. The metamorphosis into an alien was excruciatingly painful, and only made worse by the thought that he was becoming a…. becoming a [censored] prawn, he thought.

Wikus's soft cries were interrupted as his ears picked up the sound of his door opening. He slowly turned his head and saw the shape of a prawnling leaning against the doorframe. The prawnling stood staring at him, its big amber eyes curious. "Go away", Wikus complained, "Leave me [censored] be. I don't need your [censored] sympathy."

The little prawnling scampered inside, keeping a few feet away from Wikus. His head bobbed in amusement as it clicked, "You talk funny!" and gave a little laugh. Wikus was silent. [censored] great, I can't even [censored] do anything right, can I? Nearly got Christopher killed, couldn't [censored] see what MNU was doing behind my back, can't provide for my wife now… now that I'm a… His thoughts turned unintelligible as he descended into rattling sobs.

"Why are you crying?" clicked the little prawnling, his alien expression changed to one of innocent concern. Wikus dully noted that he could now see emotion in pawn's faces, a side effect of… being one, he thought miserably.

"C'mon, cheer up!" the prawnling bounced onto Wikus's back and grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him upright. The prawnling might as well have been trying to lift a mountain; Wikus was at least three times his size.

Wikus sighed, "Why do you even care, prawnling? What am I to you? I'm not like you anyway."

The little alien looked at him, puzzled. "You sure look like me!" he trilled. And Wikus suddenly noticed the prawnling was right; they both had the same coloring: tannish green with specks of black.

"And my dad always said we should be happy, even if we're stuck in a bad place", he continued sagely, "So I'm gonna show you something to cheer you up!" The prawnling again tried to lift Wikus off the ground by his shoulders, and this time, Wikus heaved himself up onto his knees. He couldn't help it…the sanguine disposition of this little creature amused him. The prawnling, encouraged by the movement, snatched his hand and pulled him out the door into the blazing hot afternoon sun. Wikus shielded his eyes; he tried to spend as much time alone in his shack as he could… there was nothing for him outside except reminders of what he'd become. He couldn't bear the thought of getting used to the violence, filth, and squalor that were rampant in his new home.

The little alien guided him through side-paths and under fences, over hills and across ditches until they reached the summit of a hill at the northwestern tip of District 9. The little alien pointed at a single red rose poking out of a tiny hill of soil, wearing a smile brimming with excitement. The early evening sun flowed over the rose, glazing it in an amber shine.

Wikus marveled at it. Memories flowed back in hordes, inundating his mind…The roses he'd given to Tania, the bouquets on their wedding day…she looked like an angel, he thought to himself…and their garden at home. He leaned in and cautiously caressed the rose as if afraid he might break it. It was softer than anything he'd felt since he'd fled humanity. It reminded him of Tania's skin… He thought of picking it and delivering it to Tania, but he discarded the idea, robbing the hill of its crown seemed wrong. Struck by another thought, he ran to a garbage heap and started scavenging.

He's nuts, thought the prawnling, watching Wikus with a critical eye. Oh well! The prawling hopped away, eager to see his father get home from work.

----

Twilight approached as Wikus snuck one last look at his old house before bounding away. He'd left her something, and he hoped she'd understand what it meant.

Don't give up on me, baby.


Chapter 2
Black.
Wikus…Wikus? Was that his name? Somewhere, his subconscious dully noted he was showing signs of concussion. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He opened his eyes. More black. No… a streetlight? There aren't any streetlights in District 9… There were streetlights in Johannesburg, one had been right outside his and Tania's house. Tania? Tania… Slowly, bit by bit, it came back to him. He'd dropped off the rose on their porch, he'd been running back, he saw an MNU chopper, and he'd ran down a side alley where he'd…tripped…again.

He tried to push himself up, but his arms felt like lead pipes. He felt something wet oozing out of the plates around his forehead, onto his tentacles and into his mouth. With a fearful shudder he put two and two together, realizing the bitter taste had to be his prawn-blood. He panicked, flailing desperately and trying to get the blood away from his mouth until his head hit a discarded cinderblock. He felt something break. Not the cinderblock. And then everything was black again.

Wikus's eyes opened drowsily . His head was throbbing like an Arc gun was rattling off rounds in his skull. Rubbing his neck plates, he pushed himself into a sitting position, recognizing now-familiar surroundings of his shack. He closed his eyes again, feeling a wave of sleepiness washing over him as he laid back down. I wish whoever was making that [censored] racket would cut it out. Wait… what? Wikus jumped up and turned around. "And what the [censored] are you doing?" he yelled indignantly at the prawn digging through a pile of garbage in a corner of his hut. He might be stuck in this forsaken place with nothing but prawns for company, but Wikus would be damned if he'd let the things rummage through his home! Without turning to look at him, the prawn clicked, "Where do you keep the cat-food?"

"What the hell? Get the [censored] out of my house!" demanded Wikus, looking on the ground for something to hit the thief with. Finally grasping a metal rod from the ceiling, he pointed it at the burglar, universal sign language for "I mean business." The prawn wheeled around quickly. He'd been painted white on most of his body, but it'd quickly turned grey with filth and dust. He was smaller than Wikus, about 6'10" and very scrawny. He held his hands in the air; the same pose of surrender Wikus had gotten so used to when dealing with prawns in his old life. It comforted him a bit to see a familiar sight, but the happy feeling quickly evaporated as he realized he didn't wield the same power over them as he used to.

"I saved you." Started the intruder matter-of-factly, "I was out when I wasn't supposed to be. I was trying to get into the grocery store. I wanted cat-food. But I couldn't get through, the gates were reinforced with iron since the last time I broke in. And what do I stumble upon in the middle of the alleyway? A stupid Poleepkwa who fell. So I brought you back. Now where is my reward? Where do you keep your cat-food?"

Wikus shook his head. This explanation was making his head hurt… he just wanted to sleep again. "I don't have any [censored] cat-food." He replied weakly, dropping the rod and sitting down on his table.
Without another word, the Poleepkwa spat in disgust and walked out of his shack.

Wikus collapsed backwards on the table, staring at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes tightly. Cat food...looking for cat food...all I have in those garbage piles are things I was using to make the rose for Tania... for Tania...
His train of thought derailed as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.


Chapter 3
For the second time in so many hours, Wikus awoke groggily. His head felt marginally better, but the acid taste of his prawn-blood was lingering in his mouth. He slowly sat up on the table, scanning the floor for the pitcher of water he'd collected from the MNU checkpoint a week ago. After four days without water, he had decided to take the risk; he had needed the weekly pitcher of water MNU allowed them in District 9. Where did I leave that water pitcher? Did that damn prawn cop it while I was out?

Groaning in frustration, he looked for his "emergency water", a plastic bag he'd placed under the hole in his roof to catch the pathetic amount of rain graced the District from time to time. He couldn't locate that either. Baffled, he looked up. He couldn't find the hole in the roof. MNU fixed one of the roofs? No, can't be. Carefully observing his surroundings for the first time, he couldn't find the pile of metal he'd used to craft Tania's rose. Although all of the hovels looked basically the same, they each had their own touch put on them by who lived there. As he peered around, a pang of fear ran through him. Confused and panicking, Wikus realized he wasn't in his shack at all. Dashing out the door, he literally tripped (yet again) over a small prawnling playing with a piece of discarded plastic in front of the house.

Wikus fell flat on his face, cutting one of his abdomen-arms deeply on a piece of shrapnel on the ground. Dazed, he laid on the ground, his enhanced nose showering his brain with the disgusting smells of pollution, refuse, and secretion. Always with the [censored] tripping, he complained to himself, wallowing in self-pity. A nearby noise shook him out of his reverie. The prawnling mewled in pain and turned its saucer-sized amber eyes to see what strange creature had painfully interrupted his playtime. Wikus pulled himself up from the ground and turned to the prawnling with a mixture of apprehension and embarrassment. Amber met amber and Wikus tensed, a spark of familiarity flaring in his memory.

"It's the weirdo!" exclaimed the prawnling with a broad smile. Wikus's shoulders slumped. Great, I've got a [censored] reputation now? The prawnling rambled on, evidently ignorant of Wikus's frustration. "I saw Antoine go into your shack, and then leave, so I decided to see what was going on. My dad says to stay away from Antoine, so I wanted to tell you to stay away too. When I came in, you were asleep on the table, but your head was bleeding. So I got my dad to take you here, to our shack, to fix you! He didn't think you'd be awake for another few hours, so he's out scavenging for food, but he'll be back in a small cycle. Here, let me get you a bandage for that cut."

Wikus's head was spinning with this new information as the prawnling wrapped a small bandage around the profusely bleeding cut. A prawn trying to help him? Since Christopher, the best kind of prawns he'd met had been the kind that just left well enough alone. Could he have happened upon another intelligent prawn? Maybe this prawn could be useful. He appeared to have medical resources… maybe he would have food for Wikus, or could help him find some. He could be a valuable asset.

Wikus turned his eyes to the sunrise. Pain of his transformation had been bad enough, but the loneliness he'd endured had been crippling. Most of the prawns around weren't exactly masters of the art of conversation aside from asking about cat-food fixes or food or other prawn things Wikus didn't give a damn about. Shame seeped into the corners of his mind. Before meeting Christopher, he wouldn't have thought about this further—the prawn would have been a tool for him, something he could use to help himself survive and get back to Tania. But after meeting Christopher… he felt maybe there could be more to these creatures than he'd thought. Maybe this prawn could be something more than just a tool to be used… just as Christopher had changed in Wikus's mind from "the way back to being a human" to… "friend".

Making up his mind, Wikus sat up, hugging his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. "OK, I think I'll wait for him then." he said, flashing the prawnling a nervous smile.

The prawnling jumped with joy and exclaimed, "Visitors! We're gonna have a visitor!" He scampered across the barren ground and picked up a tattered and deflated volleyball. "Cool, huh?" he said, bouncing it in front of Wikus.

"Yeah." Wikus gave another nervous smile and looked away awkwardly, trying to spot the prawnling's dad somewhere. The ball hit him in the chest. "You're supposed to catch it, dummy!" said the prawnling playfully. Amused despite himself, Wikus picked up the ball and threw it back to the prawnling, and before Wikus knew it they were playing catch. The little guy's got an arm on him, thought Wikus, somewhat impressed. His thoughts turned to Tania and their musings on having a child. The sad memories soured the moment, and he quickly tried to think of something to stem the tide of unwelcome sadness. "What are you and your dad's names?" He was surprised at himself for not thinking of it sooner.

The prawnling's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "My name is Sam! I don't really like it, but my dad says I have to use it anyway. And my dad is Andrew!" leaning in as if confiding in Wikus, the prawnling whispered, "I think his name is much better than mine."

The sun began to hide behind the silhouette of Johannesburg as Wikus passed the time playing and talking to Sam. Although Wikus was extremely awkward around the young prawnling, Sam didn't seem to mind. Sam was content telling Wikus all about himself. Wikus soon learned his age (Sam was almost two cycles old, or about six human years), his favorite food (surprisingly not cat food, but a sugar cookie he had found in a plastic bag while scavenging), and his friends.

"I just wish my best friend didn't have to go away," Sam said wistfully. "He was a lot smarter than me, and half a cycle older, but we had a lot of fun together.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What was his name?" replied Wikus.

"Oliver." answered Sam, and surprise painted itself on Wikus's face. Before Sam could notice Wikus's amazement, he turned his eyes to the street and cried, "Dad's home!" Sam ran out to the silhouette of a bigger prawn, his details blocked out by the orange of the setting sun. Wikus stood up and watched with a melancholy yearning as the father picked up his son in a loving embrace before setting him down and locking eyes with Wikus.


Chapter 4
Wikus shied away from the father's gaze. He stared at the cracked ground, a mottled mix of dirt and sand. He felt the ground vibrate and guessed that Andrw was approaching. He risked a peek upward. Squinting, he could make out the size of him, although the sun hid his coloration. He was about four inches taller than Wikus, and broader and much more muscular too. With a son Sam's age, he has to be pretty old, realized Wikus. He's been laboring here since the ship landed. That explains why he's so ripped. With a start, he noticed he was staring. He glued his eyes to the ground. A piece of trash passed through his field of vision, an empty jug buffeted by the evening wind. He stole another look up. Still coming over. His antennae twitched, smelling the pheromones in the air but unable to identify them. Finally, gathering his courage, he looked up again. Andrew's progress ground to a halt about a foot away from Wikus. Andrew's eyes glided over him. Wikus felt exposed, as if his Andrew's judgmental dark orbs were evaluating every part of him. He dropped his eyes awkwardly. His antennae twitched again, and sensing motion, he glanced up in time to see Andrew [censored] back his fist and slam it into Wikus' face.

Andrew's fingers might not have been particularly hard, but the force he put into it certainly was. Wikus was too clumsy to roll with the punch, and he felt two of his forehead plates splinter before he fell away, slamming onto the hard, dry ground. …What? After taking a second to recover, Wikus lifted his bloodshot eyes and saw Andrew peering down at him. From Wikus' perspective, he looked like a colossus about to pass judgment on him from above. Andrew drew in a breath, and with a completely straight face, said, "You were looking at the ground so much, I thought you might want to get to know it better."

Wikus lost it. [censored] this! I've had enough of being pushed around! He heaved himself up and yelled, "What the [censored] was that for? I was just looking after you [censored] son over here! Thought I might do you a [censored] favor, man!"

Andrew threw up a hand, cutting him off. "I got one. I know your story. I know what you did, who you used to be. And that was what you get. So I got one.Now, we're even." Wikus blinked, rooted to the spot. Andrew strolled past him into the shack. With a giggle, Sam followed, hopping onto his father's shoulder and nuzzling his head affectionately. Wikus continued to blankly stare out in front of him for a few minutes, his brain feebly trying to make sense of what had just happened. Shaking his head and kicking at a piece of garbage, he turned around and followed them into the shack.

It felt bizarre to be sitting at a dinner table with nothing but prawns for company. If you could call it a table; all it really consisted of was a long flat piece of plastic balanced precariously on a few cinderblocks. Still, oddly, the awkward silence comforted Wikus. It reminded him of when he'd eaten with Tania's parents while they were still dating. Hopefully I won't spill the potatoes this time. Hah, I remember the time when Tania's mother had baked… a whole…

Wikus's shoulder's sagged. The raw meat sat on a plate in front of him. Wikus stared at it, seeing only for a moment its rotted and raw folds. His mind wandered into a dark and cold place, and Wikus once again considered the dilemma that had been slowly tearing him apart. Tania is all that can give me hope for the future. It's for her that I make it through the day. But… thinking of her… knowing short of a miracle I will never be to see her again kills me a bit every day. To know I'll never be able to run my hands through her hair… imagine me running my sick, prawn hands through her hair. It's disgusting.

"It's not gonna eat itself, you goof!" sniggered Sam, dragging Wikus's thoughts from their black brooding-place back to the present. Wikus shook his head and apologized absentmindedly.

"Well, have a bite, then." Said Andrew without looking up from his own meal.

Wikus, suddenly feeling a bit pressured, scrambled to find utensils on the table before realizing they obviously didn't have any. Feeling a bit foolish, he picked up the meat and, with a grimace, took a hearty bite. To his surprise, it didn't taste as bad as he would've thought. His new taste buds were obviously tuned differently than his old ones. Still, his human side was repulsed by eating such a thing in such a fashion. He finished the rest of it in two bites, glad to have the ordeal over with. He noticed Andrew had put down his meat and was watching him. Wikus met his stare for the first time. He tried to place the emotions in Andrew's deep, dark eyes.

"You should stay here tonight." Said Andrew after a silence. "You're not fit to be wandering around the District at this hour in your state. You'll be seen by Nigerians or MNU, and you'll be too frazzled to come up with an excuse for being out so late. We don't have a room for you, but the floor is the District's finest."

Confused but thankful for the promise of a safe night, Wikus got up and made for the living room floor. Andrew caught his arm as he walked by, and locked eyes with Wikus once again. "I was serious when I said you got one." He said quietly. "Now, you are one of us in my eyes. I'm ambivalent towards you. Sam likes you. But Sam likes everyone (Sam gave a squeal of delight and nodded vigorously). You will have to prove yourself to me the same way everyone else does."

Wikus nodded, realizing that he had been given exoneration by this prawn. It was only one prawn, but it was a start. Maybe there was a way to live with the prawns until Christopher returned… if he returned… Staving off another wave of grim thoughts, he collapsed onto the floor and tried his hardest to drift off into blissful oblivion.

[QueenRalexia]

I though the movie District 9 was great just like your Fan Fic

[Azdgari]

Added a few chapters that I'd written at the time but never posted here. ^^