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McGucket (Alien) Abduction II

Uhhhhhh. This takes place following my previous post for the McGucket Abduction AU, which you can find here.

Enjoy.

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Shermie carefully cleaned the red and angry wound on his brother’s shoulder.

“This is going to scar,” he said. “New fur won’t grow over it.” Stan snorted.

“It’s a brand, Shermie. That’s the whole point.”

“The poacher had a buyer ready for you, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he had one before he even caught me,” Stan muttered. “The second I got pulled on the ship, I got branded.” He nodded at Angie, who was also sitting at the kitchen table, her own brand being looked at by her older brother. “Angie said that she didn’t get hers right away.”

“No,” Angie said, her voice shaking. She let out a soft yelp as Fiddleford gently wiped her wound with a cleansing cloth. Fiddleford lowered his head to whisper something in her ear. She nodded jerkily. “I think we were there fer a day or- or two ‘fore they…” She trailed off.

“From what Fiddleford told me, the branding messed her up,” Stan said, quiet enough that only Shermie could hear. “She didn’t know that’s what poachers do, so she wasn’t prepared for it.”

“I just don’t know why they didn’t brand me,” Fiddleford said. He placed a bandage over Angie’s brand and gently pressed the edges down, adhering it to her skin.

“You didn’t have a buyer,” Stan said. The humans stared at him in shock. “Poachers brand their prey after they’ve got a buyer lined up.”

“There- there was someone what had agreed to buy Angie?!” Fiddleford squeaked. Stan and Shermie nodded. The blood drained from Fiddleford’s face, leaving him deathly white. Angie began to shake.

“She’s female,” Shermie pointed out, trying to keep his voice as sympathetic as possible. “Females tend to get sold faster. Though with how valuable humans are, you likely would have been sold quickly as well, Fiddleford.” Angie’s shaking got worse. Fiddleford put his hands on her shoulders.

“Why’d they brand her in a dif’rent spot from Stan?” he asked. Unlike Stan, Angie’s brand was on the side of her neck.

“Most poachers brand their prey differently based upon sex,” Stan said with a shrug. “Sometimes it’s different brand patterns, sometimes it’s different brand locations. Since our brands are the same pattern, the different location is probably because she’s female.” Angie suddenly broke.

“I’m just a lousy heifer,” she sobbed, her head dropping to the kitchen table. Shermie and Stan looked at each other, then back at the humans. Fiddleford whispered something to her again. She continued to cry. “I shouldn’t- I should’ve been smarter or- or faster or-”

“What, you think you would’ve escaped getting branded?” Stan scoffed. “Look, lady, it doesn’t matter how smart or fast or strong you are. If there’s one thing poachers know how to do, it’s brand their prey. You can’t get away from them before they do it. Some poachers don’t even bother with security after they brand someone. Even if the prey escapes, they can use the brand to track them down.”

“Will they- will they track down Angie?” Fiddleford asked.

“Not on this planet,” Shermie said firmly. “There is a global defense force to prevent poachers from even getting closer than the moon. Not a single poacher can find you here.”

“You hear that, Angie?” Fiddleford said to his still crying sister. “We’re safe.”

“I just- I just want to go home,” Angie wailed. Fiddleford pursed his lips, worried. Amelia walked into the kitchen.

“I got the kits down for the night. It sounds like there might be a problem in here?” she said.

“Sorry, I hope that we ain’t disturbin’ ya too much,” Fiddleford said. He was now patting Angie’s back as she shook with the force of her sobs. Amelia immediately made a beeline for the crying human.

“Angie, what’s wrong?” she said gently.

“I- I- the poacher, he- he had a buyer fer me and- and-” Angie broke into wordless crying again. Fiddleford sighed softly.

“Do ya have a room she could lay down in? Somewhere comfortable but private?” he asked. Amelia nodded.

“I think the sunbathing room would be perfect for this.”

“All right.” Fiddleford smiled at Angie. “Angie, we’re goin’ to go to the sunbathin’ room.”

“Don’t- don’t-” Angie stammered. She took a deep, shaking breath. “You need to talk to Stan ‘n Shermie ‘bout how- how we’ll pay our- our way.”

“It can wait until tomorrow! You need support,” Fiddleford said firmly. Angie covered her eyes and shook her head. “I ain’t lettin’ yer stubbornness win this time.”

“If she’s fine with it, I could keep her company,” Amelia suggested. “I’m a social worker for an anti-poaching organization. I have a lot of experience calming those who have been trafficked.”

“Would you be all right with that?” Fiddleford asked his sister. Angie sniffled loudly, roughly rubbed tears away from her eyes, and nodded. “Good!”

“Let’s go relax a bit,” Amelia soothed. She pulled Angie up and helped her out of the kitchen. Angie slumped against her body as they walked away, her sobs slowly fading. Fiddleford watched them leave, his face creased with worry.

“Amelia knows what she’s doing,” Shermie said. “Your sister will be fine.”

“I know,” Fiddleford sighed. He sat in the seat Angie had vacated. “I just- I ain’t been really apart from her since we were taken from Earth.” He shook his head. “But Lord above, does she need some space right now. All of my fam’ly, we’re prone to nervousness ‘n gettin’ worked up. Angie has a tendency to hide anything buildin’, but then snap out of nowhere. Which is what she just did.”

“It’s an understandable reaction,” Shermie said. Fiddleford nodded. “So…the conditions of your stay.”

“Yes.” Fiddleford clasped his hands on the table. “Let’s talk ‘bout that. What would ya like us to do?”

“Well, what can you do?” Shermie asked. Fiddleford perked up.

“Quite a lot, I reckon! We both grew up on a farm and our folks believe in the power of hard work. So’s we’ve been doin’ chores of all sorts our entire lives.”

“Cooking, cleaning?” Shermie asked. Fiddleford nodded.

“Yard work of all sorts, too.” He grinned toothily. “We’re stronger ‘n we look. Much stronger.” Shermie nodded thoughtfully. Stan looked at him.

“Did you ever get your hydrator back up and running?” he asked.

“We got a quote for it, but couldn’t afford it.”

“It’s been years!”

“Hydrator repairs cost more credits than you’d expect,” Shermie said firmly. Stan’s eyes flicked over to Fiddleford, then back to Shermie. “What?”

“This guy’s a wiz with a sonic toolbox. When we escaped, he went around my ship and fixed everything that was broken. Everything! And he did a better job than a contractor would.” Fiddleford’s cheeks turned a faint pink.

“That’s true, I am quite good with m’ hands.”

“Do you have experience with technology like ours?” Shermie asked. Fiddleford shook his head. “Then how…”

“I spent a lot of time on that poacher’s ship examinin’ our surroundin’s, tryin’ to find a way out. Poked ‘round, found stuff out. Then on Stan’s ship, well, usin’ what I’d seen on the other ship and my experience with this sort of thing back on Earth, it didn’t take long to figure out what went where.”

“You think he should be our handyman,” Shermie said to Stan. Stan shrugged.

“With three kits around, it’s good to have one. And he can fix your hydrator. I’m sure of it.” Stan looked at Fiddleford. “At the very least, he can’t break it more.” Shermie rubbed his forehead.

“I’ll trust your judgement, Stan, but if this doesn’t work out-”

“It will,” Stan said firmly.

“Then that just leaves the matter of Angie.” Shermie drummed his claws on the table. “Honestly, if she needs to just spend her time here recuperating from your ordeal, that’s perfectly fine. If you fix the hydrator, that will pay for both your stays and more.” Fiddleford, however, had begun shaking his head halfway through Shermie’s offer.

“She won’t accept that. I think givin’ her somethin’ to do would be better, anyways. Keep her mind off things.”

“Then what do you recommend?”

“Cookin’, cleanin’, gardenin’, yard work, runnin’ errands,” Fiddleford said, marking each suggestion off on his fingers. “Chores in general.”

“All right. We’ll consider this matter settled, then.” Shermie stood up. “I don’t know human sleep schedules, but if now is an appropriate time for you to go to bed, we’ll show you where everything you need is.”

“Thank you, but I need to work off some nerves. Stan, mind lettin’ me on yer ship? That turn signal of yours was fussy. I reckon it could use a tune-up.”

“Sure thing,” Stan said. Shermie followed them to the garage. After Stan unlocked the ship, Fiddleford grabbed a sonic toolbox and climbed in. The sounds of mechanical repair soon filled the room. Shermie turned to Stan, who had come back to stand by him.

“Look. These humans seem perfectly nice. But…”

“You’re already looking forward to them being gone?” Stan asked. Shermie nodded. Stan chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll get ‘em outta your fur as soon as I can. It’ll be like they were never here.”

-----

Stan and the humans had been on Stan’s home planet for about a month. Soon, they would be able to leave. Stan knew that Shermie was looking forward to having fewer people in his home; their species wasn’t exactly known for its gregariousness. But Stan had decidedly more mixed feelings about it. Despite himself, he was growing fond of the humans.

Fiddleford had been going above and beyond fixing and even upgrading everything he could get his eerily furless hands on, including Stan’s ship. While Angie had thrown herself into exploring the hazardous natural environment and tending to Shermie and Amelia’s garden. If nothing else, she got Stan out of the house, given that she needed an escort to keep her from dying any time she left.

And the two were even beginning to pick up some of the language. Though they had been perplexed to learn that their hosts’ species name roughly translated to “Heater”. Apparently, on Earth, a heater produced warmth, which contrasted with the Heater species, whose name derived from living in warm territories.

Stan watched Angie frown as she scanned the menu at the food stand. Fiddleford had needed some sort of tool, so Stan, eager to get away from the kits for a bit, offered to take him to the shopping center. Angie immediately invited herself along.

“If you don’t make up your mind, you’re gonna get heat exhaustion again,” Stan teased her. Most of the shopping center, including the food stand, was outside, baking underneath the twin midday suns. Angie rolled her eyes.

“I’m tryin’ to translate this, but the alphabet fer yer language ain’t stuck in my head yet,” she said in her musical drawl. She sighed. “What do they have?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Stan replied.

“What’s that mean?”

“None of it’s vegetarian.”

“Really?” Angie asked. Stan nodded. Angie threw her hands up in the air. “Well, why didn’t ya tell me that ‘fore I wasted all that time tryin’ to read the menu?”

“It’s more fun this way.”

“Oh!” Angie huffed. She punched his arm playfully. Stan snickered. It only took a few days of Heater cuisine before Angie decided to forgo any meat at all and become vegetarian. The diet was exceedingly rare on the planet and something Stan liked teasing her about. “Go ahead and order fer yourself, then.” She walked away. Stan stepped up.

“I’ll take the number five combo,” he told the Heater running the food stand. The man began to wrap up his order.

“Think you’ll share it with that little human girl?”

“I might be able to get her to try one bite, but that’s it,” Stan said. The man chuckled.

“Humans,” he said, shaking his head. He handed the order to Stan. Stan passed over the money. “Always great doing business with you.”

“Yep.” Stan looked around and, upon spotting Angie by a decorative fountain, walked over to her. She eyed the food in his hands suspiciously. “What?”

“What…is that?” Angie asked.

“My favorite.”

“It looks like a burger with a giant bug fer the patty and two lizards fer the buns.”

“I don’t know what a burger is, but sure.” Stan took a bite. He held out the food. “Wanna try it?” Angie’s face paled. “Come on! It’s my favorite!”

“I- I don’t think it’s mine,” Angie choked out. Stan pouted at her, determined to get her to take a bite. He enjoyed Angie’s reactions to trying Heater food more than he disliked sharing his meals.

“You know, you’re insulting me every time you don’t try even a bite.”

“I…” Angie swallowed. “F-fine.” Grinning, Stan handed the food over. He watched in amusement as the human took a hesitant bite, chewed, and swallowed. She shoved the food in his direction, her face twisted in a disgusted grimace. Stan took the food back. Angie immediately bent over and retched loudly. Stan snickered. “That- that- that tastes like the burnt stuff in the bottom of a grill, but if ya turned it into day-old clam chowder!”

“Eh, you’re just saying that ‘cause your palate isn’t refined enough to pick up on the other notes,” Stan said. Angie frowned at him. Stan snorted. “Your eyes are watering.”

“Sh-shut up.” Angie wiped her eyes. “Ugh.”

“I bet your brother would like it.”

“Oh, yeah. Fidds would love it,” Angie muttered.

“What would I love?” Fiddleford’s voice asked. Stan turned his head. Fiddleford walked up to them, holding a bag from the handiness store.

“My favorite food,” Stan answered. Fiddleford shrugged. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything, Angie let out a loud wheeze. Stan and Fiddleford immediately whipped their heads around. Tears were streaming down Angie’s face as she wheezed again, her cheeks flushed. “Uh. You all right?” Angie shook her head. She grabbed her throat, gasping frantically for air. Fiddleford dropped the bag.

“No, no, no, no!” he said urgently. Angie fell to her knees. Fiddleford rushed to her side.

“What’s going on?” Stan demanded. Fiddleford put his arm around Angie’s shoulders.

“I’ve seen this ‘fore. She’s havin’ an allergic reaction.”

“A…what?”

“You don’t know what- there ain’t time fer this! It’s a medical emergency!” Fiddleford snapped. “She needs a doctor!” Stan felt ice spread through his veins.

“The hospital’s down the street. I’ll carry her.” Fiddleford quickly moved out of the way so Stan could pick Angie up. Angie stared at him with wide eyes, still desperately trying to catch a single breath. “Let’s go.”