AUGUST IS A FEVER

27

Your eyes stayed closed even when you began to wake up. Your lungs and nose were coated with water. The sensation of the water resting where air should be was the closest you had felt to actual fire since you were eleven and began producing and creating fire of your own.

You could feel your hands shaking and could feel your body laying on the concrete below. It was cold against your exposed skin, almost colder than the metal chair you once sat in as you inhaled the water. Water began to bubble in the back of your throat and your throat being irritated, you began to cough up the water. You spat it up on the concrete floors of the dark cell you were kept in.

"Quiet." Said a voice. Rough and husky like yours. "People are trying to sleep."

Looking up, you could see red eyes glowing on the other side of the cell as well as a small flame on what you could tell was the tips of their fingers. The person they belonged to was covered in the darkness. You couldn't see their face. However they could see yours clear as day, the moonlight that came from the sky bled through the small barred window near the ceiling, it hitting half of your face.

The eyes flickered to you as you tried to examine the person and your eyes adjusted to the dark. You could see them ever so slightly now, but you still couldn't identify them.

"I must've passed out." You muttered, trying not to cough up a mixture of saliva and unwelcomed water again.

The person laughed softly. "That happened my first time being waterboarded, too." They crawled forward and towards you. The moonlight hit them now and you could see their face better. It was the boy from before - 5740. "You'll get used to it."

His eyes stopped glowing, going back to their natural sharp green color. You hummed as you sat up and pressed your back against the wall behind you. It was just as chilling as the concrete floors. Up close, you could see every line and wrinkle, every acne scar, every blemish, every depression on his face. Though he appeared beat, having black eyes accompanied with both healed and fresh cuts as well as a busted lip, through it all he looked young. Definitely younger than you. Maybe by a year or two.

"Who are you?" You asked.

"5740." Said the boy with auburn hair.

"No." You mumbled. "I meant your name, dumbass." The boy scoffed softly, glancing off to the side before his piercing eyes met yours again.

"What does it even matter?" Said 5740. His eyes wandered your appearance, the dried blood that dripped down your leg and painted your dirty white dress catching his attention. "I got a lot of questions of my own anyway."

"I can only imagine." You laughed softly. "I guess if you aren't gonna answer mine, I could answer yours to at least pass the time."

"Who are you?" 5740 asked you this time. You softly smirked.

"2847." You told the boy. He rolled his eyes. "Listen, if you aren't going to tell me your name, I won't tell you mine. It's only fair, isn't it?"

You could almost feel 5740 holding back a groan of annoyance as you weren't giving him the answers he craved. However, you were right and he knew it, too. It was only fair.

"Fine." Sighed 5740. "My name's Nick."

"Nice to meet'chu, Nick." You said, bringing your hand out towards the boy. "My name's (Y/n)." He hesitated but did eventually bring his own hand to hold yours for a shake.

"Nice name." Nick said, a small smile on his face. You thinly returned it.

"Thanks," You hesitated. "Nick." His name sounded awfully familiar. It sounded like you'd heard it before from someone.

There was a long moment of silence between you and Nick before it clicked. Nick was the same name as Clay and George's missing Red friend. There was no way it could be their Nick, right? I mean, Nick is a fairly common boys name. You supposed it wouldn't hurt to ask. If you didn't, you would feel like it would be an opportunity missed.

"Hey, Nick." You said slowly with hesitation.

"Hmm?" Hummed Nick as he turned to look at you, curious for what you would say next.

"Do you by chance know people named Clay and George? A Blue and a Yellow?" You asked, hands fidgeting with the hem of your blood-stained dress. Nick's eyes widened, spine straightening. Something you said definitely had just caught his attention, but there was no way, right?

"Yeah?" Nick said. "Wait, describe them." He tried to contain his excitedness, but his voice cracked as the pitched raised in a whisper.

"Um, Clay is a tall blonde dude, he's the Yellow. George is shorter with brown hair, the Blue." You described the boy, a smile creeping and cracking on your face as you were excited. Was this seriously their Nick?

"Oh, my God." Nick whisper-yelled. "How are they doing? Are they alright?" Asked Nick, ecstatic. You smiled at his now genuine grin.

"Yeah, uh, George and Clay are... I'm actually not sure. I hope they're okay." You said. "I saw them last on a road before I was taken. Or more like I ran away and was taken in the process." Nick's eyebrows furrowed.

"Run away?" He asked, puzzled. "Did they do somethin' bad to you?"

"No. I did, but looking back, it was a dumb reason to run away." You admitted. "I think I was just scared of... I dunno." You trailed off.

"Hmm." Nick hummed. "I hope they're okay."

You didn't want to talk about this anymore. It hurt too much. "Um, do you think we'll ever get out of here?" You asked, changing the subject.

Nick sighed, hopeless. "I've tried. I don't think we will, so get used to it, (Y/n/n)."

"(Y/n/n)." You repeated, smiling at a thought. "My mother used to call me that. I hope she's okay."

"Yeah, I hope mine's okay too." Nick muttered.

The talking went on for a while, maybe thirty to forty minutes. You both decided in the end that it would be better to get some sleep before training tomorrow. So, asleep you both fell.