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'What an idiot I am, pathetic' thought Pod. Not even a week, not even a single week could he survive. The young man stared with glassy eyes at the infinite white ceiling, a dull, switched off light the only thing of note on the smooth plain. A warm light streamed in through the window, he had watched the projection it cast on the floor slowly shift throughout the duration of his incapacitation, moving off him only recently; at least the linoleum was cool for his burning injuries now, although that was a small consolation. 

Pod had finally reached maturity, and the strapping young tiny was set on proving himself and surviving in this hostile, giant world. He had set off, and after weeks of slow, meandering travel he located a house he deemed suitable enough. It had been less than a week in this gargantuan abode, and already his death was sealed. It was a small stumble at the edge of the kitchen counter that sent him careening to the cold floor, and still he remained where he landed after all these hours, the entire left side of his body engulfed in stinging agony and dull pain. Perhaps it was even crueller that he survived, he knew very well the bad place he was in, and 'her' schedule. There was no chance that the human woman he subsisted off wouldn't notice his barely two inch tall body against the white floor, and when she did, he didn't want to think about what would happen... He had heard so many terrifying stories from his parents and grandparents, how cruel the behemoths were, the sadistic delight or uncaring brutality with which they delivered deaths to his kind. A disgusting pang of fear riled up inside him, it would be very soon, very soon indeed.

---

Natasha leaned against her front door for a few seconds to catch her breath; what an exhausting day it had been. The middle-aged woman unbuttoned her tight shirt that hugged at her large chest and curvy hips, and polished her slightly fogged, dainty spectacles. She needed a drink to relax, and she immediately made her way into the kitchen to get it.

Pod heard the closing front door and clacking heels: it was her. He had never felt such a pure dread in his life, as if death herself was walking into the room. He couldn't stand, he couldn't move, all he could do was watch. Tears began to wet his eyes, he didn't know what to expect, his breathing accelerating, heart thumping into his lungs. The horrible taps of her heels closed in on him, cornering him; whatever fate awaited him, he knew he would find out soon.

The exhausted office worker waltzed into the kitchen, pushing the door open casually. Immediately her eyes brown eyes shot to something at the periphery of her vision, an outline against the polished floor. It took a few seconds to parse what she saw: a tiny. It was plain to see, it looked exactly like a human, only positively minuscule. They were rare, she had never actually seen one; apparently they were little pests that infiltrated into people's houses and scavenged off food, never revealing themselves. She took a cautious step forward, she had to investigate this further.

Pod was terrified; she was monumental, menacing, everything he thought she would be. Her gigantic form rose like a tower, her legs covered by a black skirt and dark hair tied into a bun behind her head. If he had been of a similar size to her she might seem like a kindly older woman, but at his diminutive size she was a monster. Of course he had seen her before, but not like this; during the few days he had been here the most he would ever spot was her idly watching the television or leaving for work, his schedule adapted to when she wasn't around. He had seen other humans as well, but he had never known the feeling of having one see him; breaking the cardinal rule of being a tiny. He was so terrified he forgot to react, simply transfixed in horror at this monster here to deliver his death. She took a quaking step forward, towards his vulnerable form. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry, as if the very fluid in his body was scared of her. She continued to approach, at a pace that must have been slow to her, but still intimidating to him. She grew in his eyes until he didn't even need to move his neck to look, her looming face directly above the catatonic wreck.

Her steps were slow, allowing a heel-clad foot to rest before bringing the second one further. More and more details of this tiny were revealed, until she stood directly above him. Even though his facial features were minute and far away, she could tell he must have been young, very young. He was also thin, and small, even if he was human size he couldn't have been very big, and the only thing he wore was a tattered loincloth. The older woman's heart simply shattered at the sight of him, she could plainly see that he was injured by his stance, the limpness in his limbs and the horrible colour that dotted his left side. Due to his proximity to the counter she guessed he had fallen, he was lucky to even be alive. It seemed so unfair, so cruel of the universe to injure so gravely something so delicate and small. She couldn't allow this, she simply could not, he needed to be fixed, and she was the only one to do it. The woman carefully reached down, squatting to better be able to reach.

After the terrifying moments of silence, the behemoth simply looking down at him with a hard to read expression, she moved her dreaded talons towards him, bending down as she did. The light of the window caught on her glasses, the lenses turned to a eerie white that shielded her eyes; she looked more like a monster than a person. Ignoring all protest from his body, he flipped over onto his stomach, and with the arm that felt like it had some semblance of feeling he crawled forwards, his entire limp body responding in pain.

As soon as the poor creature began to flee Natasha knew she had done something wrong. She had terrified the poor thing enough to cause him to move through all the pain, and guilt riddled her mind. But still, he needed her help, even if he was scared. "Oh no, please don't!" she pleaded. "You'll hurt yourself more!"

Pod didn't listen to her booming words, continuing on his futile journey at a snail's crawl. He had to get away, he couldn't be a meal or a toy or whatever for this human. Not at so young an age, not before knowing a woman.

Natasha saw that he wasn't stopping, his limp body visibly aching at his movements. She couldn't help it and reached down, snatching him at the hips with two fingers and a thumb. She quickly dropped him on her palm, onto his back. The tiny thing was snivelling, microscopic tears streaming down his face. He let out imperceptible squeaks, muttering unheard begging beneath his breath. "Shhh, shhh. I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you." Natasha attempted to soothe, the tiny not calming down. "Please, please stop..." she said, her own voice croaky with guilt ridden sadness. Her heart continued to ache at the sight of him, it was awful, such a cute and defenceless thing, brought to wailing and crying in fear and agony. She tried to bring stroking fingers from her opposite hand to massage him, reassure him, but at the sight of her pads he recoiled in fear, grunting at the pain of his body shifting back. Pod was catatonic, he couldn't think straight; his head was filled with thoughts of even more pain at her hands and dying in such terror. The older woman didn't know what to do, she needed to see his injuries, but he wouldn't allow it with all this squirming. She walked into the living room swiftly, placing him on the coffee table gingerly. "Stay here to cool off, I know this must be very scary for you, but I want to help. Please, please, just calm down." were her words, afterwards walking back into the adjacent kitchen and closing the door. She collapsed against the door, sighing again. She would do whatever it took, whatever.

---

Natasha had done nothing but pace back and forth along the kitchen floor, stressed about the state of her newest patient. She prayed that he hadn't done anything rash like crawling off the table, she couldn't bear that. It must have been so hard, no doubt he had a terminal fear of humans on top of him being so badly injured. She fought off the desire to peek her head in to see, but she needed to wait until he was nice and calm. 

Why wasn't he dead? He thought he would have been dead by now. He was so catatonic that he hadn't heard her booming words, and whatever she wanted from him he had no idea. His small bout of terror had completely drained him, and now he only silently sobbed with an aching stomach and tear dried face, alone for however long it was. The same dagger of fear was plunged into his stomach when he heard the giant door creak open, and a familiar spectacle donned face returned. 

It had been half an hour and Natasha simply couldn't take it anymore, she had to help him. She approached slowly, almost sneaking in. It seemed he hadn't moved from being placed on his back on the table, and thankfully he had stopped crying. She took a seat on the couch, the boy staring at her with tiny puppy dog eyes, begging her to not kill him. "Okay, little guy, I know this must be very scary for you, but I need to check your injuries. I was a nurse, I promise I won't be too rough." she said, her voice sickly sweet, soft, and cautious. 

Pod just gave in, he didn't resist when she picked him up, he simply closed his eyes and hoped for the best, allowing fear to crawl beneath his skin. Her words, and the fact that he was still alive, had at least reassured him the tiniest amount, but the fact that he was in the palm of a human was simply a horrifying thought. 

Natasha carefully inspected his body behind her glasses, it was clear that he was lucky to even be alive. She grimaced when she saw his limp arm, clearly dislocated from its socket; she knew what she would have to do. How unfortunate, this would hurt, and he definitely wouldn't be happy about it. "Okay... I'm really sorry, but your shoulder has come out... I'm going to need to pop it back in..." she said. It was clear to him by her tone that what was coming next he wouldn't like, and he struggled to breathe, which only served to hurt his chest. Natasha winced as she positioned her right index finger against his limp upper arm, she had to be careful, only a slight misjudgement and she didn't even want to imagine how bad this could be, and how guilty she would feel. "Okay, on the count of three I'll pop it back in. One... Two..." before she said three she applied the slight pressure onto his arm, the socket sliding back into its home. Pod cried in agony, a deep guttural wail, also sounding like a pitiful squeak. Natasha's heart dropped, it was as bad as she imagined, the poor, poor thing. She couldn't resist, and very gently she pushed his body into her shirt-covered left breast in some form of hug. "Awh, I know it hurts sweety, let it out, let it out." she said, holding him snug against her.

Pod's streaming tears poured out and soaked the fabric of her shirt. The memory of the pain was so fresh in his mind, he didn't even care he was being pressed into the warm breast of a human. After the seconds of embrace he was disengaged, whimpering, shivering, and sobbing. His arm felt numb, tingly, painful, but atleast he could actually feel it. 

Natasha continued to look along his body, it seemed his ribs were broken, and his leg was badly bruised, maybe indicating a fracture. "Stay here sweety, please, I know I must be scary, and it seems like I'm hurting you, but this is for your own good." she said, setting him back down, propped up against a tissue box before leaving into the kitchen. He cradled his numb arm, the pain still fresh in his mind. He didn't know if he could trust her, she said she was trying to help, but perhaps she was simply a good liar. He didn't know what to think, and, defeated, he fell deep into self-pity. 

The mature woman returned with a handful of seemingly miscellaneous objects; scissors, a toothpick, and a roll of masking tape. To Pod, it seemed like these were her torture implements, and his mind was wild with all the things she could inflict with these tools. He trembled horribly, aggravating his injuries as she approached, and holding in a breath as the long wooden stake was placed next to his two inch body. 

Natasha eyed the length of his leg against the toothpick, snipping off the excess and producing a wooden stick the length of his leg. She carefully adjusted the shivering boy, moving him onto his back. He gazed in fear at her terrifying glinting glasses, seemingly revealing her hidden demonic nature. She placed the length against the outer side of his leg, and using the tape she attached it. This was her makeshift splint, and she hoped that it would be enough to help. "This is so your leg heals correctly, I know it must be uncomfortable, but there isn't much I can do." she said.

Content that she had done enough, she moved away from him, taking her household medical supplies away. In fear he instantly shuffled back awkwardly, his leg stiff and arm weak; it took all the strength he had to move himself with one arm. He backed up to the tissue box and stared at her, whimpering. Her heart was still decidedly shattered, and she couldn't bear the sight of the poor thing so afraid because of her, leaving to let him recuperate alone. When she was out of the room she realised how tired she was, doing nothing but worry and work when she got home; she needed that drink.

---

"Um, hello..." Natasha said, poking in her head to her living room. Pod was laying down in the shadow of the box, still clutching his arm. He turned to face her as she popped in, his stomach greeted by the same pain of fear. He crawled further away, moving to the precipice of the gigantic table. Natasha walked in carefully again, her now stocking-covered feet not as loud as the heels that had caused so much fear. "I thought you would be hungry, so I brought you this." she said, flashing a thimble full of tomato soup. "Don't eat it all, your stomach probably isn't that big, but make sure you're full." she set down the thimble. "And also I have this." she now presented a grey, woolly sock, setting it down and doubling it over so the mouth rested on top of the toe section. "It's not much, but maybe it's comfortable enough to sleep in." she said, turning to go back into the kitchen. "And... I hope you get better soon." 

Pod waited for her to leave, crawling over slowly to the warm thimble. He couldn't resist the allure of a warm meal, and as if from a bucket he began to drink the creamy red fluid, lapping it up. It was tangy, and he had never tasted something like this, or even had a hot meal, but it was food, and it was good food. He collapsed when he couldn't drink any more, his belly filled and warm, gifting him with slightly more energy. He still didn't know how to feel, was she truly just trying to help him? Why would a human do such a thing? His mind wandered, perhaps she only wanted a fully healed one to torture, or to sell off to be in some collection of other tinies, or eat him or do whatever the giant monsters did. He was scared for the future, he was scared of her. But the young man couldn't resist crawling his tiny battered body into the mouth of the sock, pulling the flap over himself, and trying to rest in the fluffy grey cavern.

---

Natasha struggled to sleep that night. That tiny, that poor, innocent tiny. How long had he been in this house? How much did he know about her? Did he even speak her language? Did he even speak at all? So many thoughts rattled around her head, and her heart was filled with guilt and pity. She would help him, until he was in peak physical condition she would do whatever possible. She would single-handedly erase his, maybe justified, fear of humans, no matter the cost. 

It seemed she would need to call in sick to work for a few days.

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