STATIC → newt , tmr [EDITING ; VERY SLOW UPDATES]

chapter iv

"Where's Kim?" he asked quickly.

Jorge's smile dropped. He looked up at the sky, then met Minho's eyes. Minho rubbed the back of his neck, then winced―he was sunburnt―before opening his mouth to explain to Tiago. Tiago's eyes, however, were fixated on Jorge. He narrowed them in suspicion. There were only two reasons Jorge wouldn't meet his eyes; one, he was genuinely clueless, or two, he felt guilty enough to have someone else do the talking.

"She didn't want to leave without you," Minho began explaining. "She wasn't going to come with us if you weren't there. She―" He cut himself off, frowned, before rephrasing whatever he had been about to say. "We couldn't go back in, but she said she would anyway ..."

Tiago's eyes widened, but he was still looking at Jorge. The man couldn't meet Tiago's eyes, and was instead inspecting the gash on his leg.

"What, and you let her go?" he asked, relatively calm.

Jorge sighed, the first sound he'd made since Minho started talking, and looked up at Tiago. "I didn't let her. She left when we were about to go. Nobody was watching."

Tiago felt like he couldn't breathe. Kim was dead. She was dead. There was no way she could have survived that explosion. It was a miracle he had, but if Kim had run back into the building to find him, she would've been caught right in the middle of it.

"Why didn't you tell her the building was going to explode?" Tiago demanded. "You could have saved her!" He was getting angry now. "Why did you even look away if you knew she wanted to go back in? Why didn't you make sure she was―" Tiago cut off with a loud cry of pain. He'd moved a little too much and his leg had jerked painfully underneath him. The blond's hand was on his shoulder, pushing him back to lay down. Jorge was quick to settle his leg again, squinting at the injury.

"There's something in here, Tiago," he said softly, "piece of glass or something. You could get an infection. I need to get it out." He shot a worried glance at the boy, who was still frowning in anger. He turned his gaze away from Jorge immediately, staring instead across the vast desert.

"Just get it over with."

Jorge nodded and turned Tiago's leg slightly, making the boy wince. He looked apologetic, but Tiago still wasn't looking at him. Jorge looked up at Minho again.

"Minho, you hold his leg down. Frypan, you get the other one." The black boy nodded, moving from behind Minho to settle next to Tiago's other leg. Jorge looked up at Tiago again. "Newt, make sure he doesn't sit up. You might want something to grab onto. This is gonna sting a little."

Tiago looked down sharply then, just as Jorge started pushing his fingers into the wound. Tiago shouted out in pain, immediately jerking to sit up, but strong hands on his shoulders didn't let him. He gripped onto the first thing he could, which happened to be the blond's forearm. He collapsed back into the sand, screwing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth together to stop himself from making so much noise. He gripped the blond's arm―Newt, his brain supplied―tighter as Jorge's hand went deeper. He could feel tears prickling behind his eyelids. When he managed to open his eyes again, they streamed down his face without warning. He was in so much pain.

"Hey, look at me," Newt said from somewhere above him. Tiago shook his head, his eyes shutting involuntarily again. "Tiago, look at me, focus on me. If you focus on me, you won't focus on the pain. Open your eyes."

When Tiago did finally manage to open his eyes, they were blurred with tears. He could vaguely see Newt's face above his own. When he blinked the moisture away, the tears trailing down his face, he could see Newt's face clearly. It was scrunched up in slight pain, and Tiago then realised that his grip might've been hurting the younger boy. He tried to loosen his hand from Newt's forearm, but then Jorge went further, which only made Tiago's grip tighten. He forced himself to keep his eyes open and did as Newt said; he focused. The blond hair, which had always caught his attention. It covered half of his forehead. Tiago only now noticed that Newt's eyes were brown. He hadn't paid this much attention to the boy's face before. He was pretty. Tiago had noticed briefly that he seemed smaller built than his friends, but he'd never realised how slightly feminine Newt actually looked.

Tiago had no idea how long Jorge spent digging around inside his leg for the glass, but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. It felt like an hour to him.

"I got it, I got it, I got it," Jorge chanted as he slowly pulled the shard out. Tiago was still crying, his entire face soaked in tears. As soon as the glass was out, Jorge dropped it in the sand and grabbed the needle and thread he'd prepared earlier. Tiago didn't seem to able to feel much, his entire leg numb to the pain, so Jorge quickly jabbed the needle in and began sewing the gash shut as best he could with no medical experience.

Tiago's eyes were finally slipping shut. Crying had exhausted him. He felt cold, wet fabric on his face, wiping his tears away. It felt nice. He opened his eyes a sliver to see Newt's face above him, frowning in concern.

"He looks pale," Newt said quietly.

"It's just blood loss, he'll―"Jorge cut himself off quickly, his sewing movements stopping as well. He looked up at Tiago's pale face in concern. "Tiago, what have you eaten since yesterday?" There was no response. Newt gently tapped his face twice, making Tiago's eyes squint open slowly. He hummed in acknowledgement. "What have you eaten today?" Jorge repeated.

Tiago licked his dry lips, his throat scratchy when he answered, "Nothing."

Jorge sighed, continuing to stitch the wound shut. When he was done, he grabbed the fresh bandages and got to work wrapping them around Tiago's leg. Tiago let out a small groan of pain, but he knew Jorge was being as gentle as possible while also trying to get the job done quickly. He could still feel the cold cloth on his face, cooling him down slightly. The scorching sun wasn't making it easy.

"Do we have any food left?" Jorge asked. Minho shrugged, looking around at the group. There were food wrappers from all of the food they had eaten, but it didn't look like there was any spare. When it came to traversing the Scorch, people took what they could get and didn't leave anything behind.

"We'll have to find something in the city, then," Jorge concluded. He looked at Tiago, who had shut his eyes again to keep the sun out of them. His breathing was slow and his face was still very pale. "We're going to have to carry him. He can't walk properly, and even if he could, he'd collapse from malnutrition." He glanced up at Minho, who nodded once, volunteering himself. "Okay. Let's get going. We need to get to the city before nightfall."

The group started piling their belongings back into their backpacks. When they were all up―with the exception of Newt, who had moved Tiago's head to rest on his leg―Minho moved to lift Tiago into his arms. The boy was heavier than Minho thought he would be, and he struggled under Tiago's weight until Newt got to his feet to help him. Together, they managed to maneuver Tiago's limbs until they had one arm each draped over their shoulders, supporting his limp body between them.

"You sure you can carry him all the way to the city?" Jorge questioned. "It's still quite a way."

"Yeah, we got him," Minho confirmed. Newt just nodded silently.

"Alright, hermanos. To the city."

― ➶ ―

this one's kinda short too :/ this took me a few days to write, and i couldn't tell you why tbh. i hope y'all enjoyed anyway!!

unedited