First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed Family. I'm glad you liked it. This story is not a direct continuation, but they will tie together.

I don't own District 9, etc.

Chapter 1: The Hostages

"I want to go home -- I don't like this hotel."

Tania van de Merwe pulled her son close to her. "We can't go home just yet," she said. "But I'll ask the people who work here if we can have a better room, okay?" Actually, Tania was thankful the room was as nice as it was -- at least her son didn't have to know they were prisoners. The small room they had been taken to, somewhere underground at MNU, still had a decent level of comfort to it -- a separate bathroom, a table with a couple of chairs, a real bed, a light switch she could control from the inside.

Tania understood that not all of MNU's guests were treated so well. It bothered her, a little, knowing that her father must have been the one who had ensured such good treatment for them -- when she had severed all connections with him years ago. If it wasn't for her father, MNU would probably have taken her into custody even before the mothership had left. She was an ungrateful daughter. But after what he had done to Wikus ...

"When can we go home?"

"In -- in a few days, honey." Tania might well be lying, but she didn't want to tell him that she didn't know, or that they might not be going home at all. Surely once they figure out that I don't know anything ...

"A few days" came and went. The situation began to make less and less sense. They hardly asked her any questions -- and if she answered with "I don't know," they didn't press her. Most of the requests she made were granted. She was pretty sure the room wasn't even bugged. They weren't looking for information from her, so that must mean --

That must mean they had information. And if she was still valuable, then -- Wikus was alive. The situation started to fall into place. The two of them were bait. But MNU had left her alone for nearly five years now -- what had changed? Tania didn't know for sure, but she suspected that after the relocation of the aliens to District 10, MNU had given up searching for her husband. Finding one prawn (did she really think of him as that now? Strange how the mere passage of time turned something so impossible, so horrifying, into a simple fact) among two and a half million was a daunting task, especially if they no longer had any use for him. And now they did want him? And they thought he would come for her?

But why now? "I would like a newspaper, please," Tania told the guard the next time he showed up to bring them their meals.

"What for?"

"Chris is learning to read," she said. This wasn't a lie. "He hasn't had a chance to practice, staying here." She looked the guard in the eye. "A new paper every day would be good."

The following day, Tania's father delivered a selection of picture books. "Really, Tania -- I am proud to have a smart grandson, but is the daily paper appropriate for a boy that young? All the violence, the crime ..."

"I'll stop playing games if you will, Dad." She motioned for him to sit down in one of the bare metal chairs, and did the same herself. "What are we doing here?"

"I think you know."

"You think he'll come here for me."

Piet Smit shrugged. "I'm sorry to do this to you, dear, but retrieving Wikus van de Merwe is of utmost importance."

"More important now than it was a year ago? Or two?" Her father didn't reply. "I don't think it will work, Dad," Tania began, changing tactics. "If Wikus is even alive, he's been a -- one of them -- for years now. He hasn't tried to contact me once. I just -- I don't think he can care about me, not the way he cared before." She didn't believe this, not for a moment. Don't give up on me -- because I haven't given up on you. There were a few times -- but she hadn't given up, and she knew she would see him again, just -- not here!

"You didn't always think that."

She should never have let that film crew into her house. "That was too soon. I can -- see things clearer, now."

"And your feelings towards him -- have they changed?"

"What can I say, Dad? I'm still in love with the man I married. I could never feel those things for -- what he's become, but ..." But he's still Wikus, isn't he? "But if there's a way back, if we could go back to before -- you know I would."

"The boy doesn't know, does he?" He had caught her avoidance of the word "prawn" or "alien."

"He doesn't need to," Tania replied quickly. "It's hard enough for him, growing up without a father, he doesn't need to know that --" That his dad's a monster now? "He just wouldn't be able to understand, yet." No, because to understand the situation, she would have to tell her four-year-old son just how cruel people could be.

Her father nodded. "Tell me, why did you name the boy Christopher?"

Tania shrugged. "It's not that hard to figure out."

"After the thing that took your husband away from you?"

You took my husband away from me. "Wikus always liked the idea of naming our children after friends -- after people we really respected." We had planned to name our first son after you. "I never met him, but Wikus gave up everything for him -- he must have been worth something."

Piet Smit gave another curt nod. "Tania. I wish you would not take this position -- the prawns are barely more than animals. You know this. They're not friends, and certainly not something to respect. You know, you'd have a much happier life, if you moved on. What you said about Wikus is probably true. He's descended to their level by now. There's nothing to wait for."

Tania stood up and looked him in the eye. "If you believed that, I wouldn't be here."

"Very well." Tania's father made his way to the door. She glanced once more at the picture books he had brought -- they were hers, from long ago.

"I do appreciate the books," she said quietly. "But Chris still doesn't have a granddad."

"Who was that man?" Chris asked as soon as the door closed.

"He just works here."

"Did you tell him we want to go home?"

"Chris, honey ..." She had to tell him something. "We won't be able to go home for a while. The other people -- that man, and the people who bring us food -- won't let us leave. They're looking for your daddy, and they think he'll come if we're here."

"But daddy never came to see us at home. He's not going to come here."

"He ... he might come if he thinks we need help."

"Really? And then I could meet him?"

It would have been better to let her son think that his father was dead. That was what everyone had told her -- maybe they were right. Because there was no going back to the way things were before. When she first understood what had happened to Wikus -- that he was turning into one of them -- she didn't think she could stand to see him like that. But -- she missed him so much that she didn't think she'd care anymore. They wouldn't be able to have everything they'd had before, but -- just to talk to him --

She did believe she would see him again. She had to, because if she didn't -- Occasionally Tania entertained the fantasy that there would be some way to cure him, some way to make him human again. But that only happened in fairy tales. Only MNU did the sort of genetic research that could even attempt something like that, and -- well, that wasn't going to happen. Someday she would tell Chris the truth about what had happened to his father -- but maybe it would be better if she didn't have to. He would never be able to have a normal relationship with his dad anyway, and knowing the truth might only make it worse.

If he comes here, neither of us will ever see him again. "No, we don't want him to come here, okay? If he tries to find us here, then the bad guys will catch him."

"What do we do?"

"We just ... have to stay here. We have to hope that he knows not to come here." That was all they could do. Wikus is smart enough to stay away. Wasn't he?

"We just wait?" Tania nodded. For five years I've just waited. This shouldn't be any different. But it was, of course. She should have stopped waiting years ago. Not given up, but -- done something. I should have looked for you.

"What if Daddy doesn't come? Do we have to stay here always?" Waiting and waiting, no end in sight ... Tania looked around the room they were kept in. It was far nicer than a holding cell should be. Which meant it probably wasn't a holding cell, originally. Which meant it probably wasn't in the most secure part of the building. Which meant -- probably nothing, but it meant that she would try.

For nearly five years, MNU hadn't taken any action, and neither had she. Now they were up to something -- but if she could get out of here, and could find Wikus before they did -- well -- I have to, now, don't I?