After the street fight - part 1
His first thought as he was coming to was that he was staring into the eyes of a snake, or perhaps a lizard. Slowly the fog of his mind edged from his vision, the hypnotism releasing him so he could assess his surroundings and condition.
He still felt sick and sore. He was hanging with his forearms clasped into encompassing cuffs, held wide to offer little leverage. It wasn’t hard to figure out he was in a ship. Everywhere he looked alien technology blinked and foreign symbols drift across screens. He himself was on some sort of platform with an annoying bright light shining down, wires and tubes crisscrossing behind him.
A skrull ship.
Memory flooded him in a sudden, nightmarish jolt. “Mom!” He jerked forward, arms snapping the restraints taut. They did not break, however. And just as quickly as he started struggling, he stopped, blue eyes darting side to side. The shock of grief was sudden, the weight of it forcing him to shakily sink.
He had been unable to help her.
“You should not move.”
Teddy’s eyes barely opened, looking sideways at Super Skrull. The other was turning to a panel, his green fingers tapping over the buttons. Teddy kept his head hanging, unwilling to move or answer, his loss still constricting his chest.
Super Skrull reached up, obviously favoring his side. He had not come out of the fight unscathed. He pulled a thin tube down for inspection. It was clear, Teddy realized, and filled with blood. He then realized the tube was going from the console to his cuffs. The skrull seemed to realize he noticed, answering for him. “I am cleaning the toxins that keep you from shifting out of your system, hatchling. You reacted much worse to it than usual, perhaps due to your mixed heritage.” He touched his chest. “I am Kl’rt, sent to retrieve and protect you.” The skrull frowned. “It is still hard to believe that you look like this naturally, rather than as one of us, my prince.”
“That’s because I’m not a Skrull,” Teddy rasped.
“You are, my prince.”
“I am not a prince.”
The Super Skrull seemed taken aback, his heavy brows lifting. “You do not know? Has no one told you? Who has cared for you? Was it not--?”
“My mom was in the house!” The outburst was gone as soon as it came though. He closed his eyes at the pain in his head. Physically, he was starting to feel better, but he still thought he might vomit if he moved too much. Emotionally, he was absolutely ill.
Kl’rt was silent for a time, watching him. “It was not your mother. She died, long ago. Princess Anelle perished with the Skrull throne world. You must mean your caretaker. She... was among the other skrull, was she not?”
Teddy managed a small nod.
“I am most sorry, then.”
Teddy said nothing, listening to the dialysis machine whir softly and the Super Skrull move around. Then just allowed himself to cry silently. Kl'rt, at least, pretended not to notice. (Cont.)