𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝘔𝘈𝘡𝘌 𝘙𝘜𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

18 ~ 𝙛𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨

"It's not even morning," he sighed. "We should go back to bed." I agreed. "But wait, Lottie... why were you awake anyway?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Newt yelled, and I woke up. I came to see what was wrong."

"Interesting..." Alby said.

"Why?"

"Because," he said slowly. "He told me that you were in his nightmare. You were being attacked by a Griever."

I had to suppress myself from rolling my eyes. "He worries too much. I'm fine-"

"But you worry too," Alby said, cutting me off. "You felt his forehead. You were the only one who came to see him when he screamed. All I'm saying is that you two have a strange dynamic."

I shrugged. "Maybe we just care more about each other than you guys do to anyone else,"

"What?"

"What?" I mocked. "I'm really tired, Alby. See you in the morning." I spun on my heel and hurried away, fully aware that Alby was behind me shaking his head.

"Lottie. Lottie. Wake up,"

My eyes flickered open to see Mitch leaning over me. It was still dark in the Glade, so I could barely see his face. I looked curiously up at him. "Why are you up so early?" I asked, and my eyes widened when I heard my own voice. It was low and very scratchy, and my throat burned when I spoke. "Shuck," I grumbled. I must have caught something from Newt. I just hoped that it wasn't as bad as his, but I didn't have my hopes up. Immediately I was aware of a throbbing headache and chills erupting almost everywhere on my body.

"I wanted to give you breakfast before you had to leave," Mitch said cheerfully, handing me a plate filled with fruit and a small pile of scrambled eggs; something I hadn't had for breakfast in a long time due to Minho's constant reminders that I had to eat very little for breakfast. "But I don't think you're going to be going out in the Maze today, from the way you sound." He told me as I dropped a handful of blueberries in my mouth. "Do you want anything? Tea?"

"No, thank you, Mitch," I said. "I know you're just offering so that you can start work later."

He shrugged sheepishly. "I have a good reason."

"Can you go tell Minho that I can't run today?"

"Sure." Mitch left, and I sighed, getting out of bed. I guessed I'd just go get some medicine from the med hut.

"Clint, Jeff!" I called.

"Oh, God, you're sick," Jeff said as he ducked into view. "See, I told you that this would happen, didn't I?"

"Mm," I replied, taking the tiny glass of medicine he handed me and drinking it all in one swallow. "I'll be staying here until I get better," I explained.

"You better," said Clint, who was dabbing at a sleeping Newt's face with a wet cloth. "His fever hasn't broken yet," he explained. "But there's no need for you to worry, especially since you're gonna be asleep in a few minutes. That medicine's intense."

I was already feeling a bit drowsy, so I laid down on the nearest cot and turned over. Newt was fidgeting uncomfortably in his sleep, and his mouth was a little open as if he were struggling to breathe. I frowned, wondering how on earth he would become sick. The Glade was closed off to the outside world – how would any foreign fevers even reach us?

I coughed and sniffled, and then groaned. I hated being sick. I was so cold; I curled into a ball to warm myself up but then I was suddenly too hot. I panted and kicked off the blanket, frustrated. How was I supposed to sleep when I couldn't even decide if I was too hot or too cold? It turned out that sleeping would be very easy – the medicine kicked in a few minutes later and I was out cold.