Everywhere, Everything ◆ Thomas ◆ TMR

009 - Traitor, Traitor, Traitor

The entire night had been restless. She'd nodded off a few times, only to be woken up again by Ben. For hours, he'd been either thrashing in his sleep, muttering things she didn't understand, or throwing up. The first time had caught her off guard, leaving her stuck with having to clean up the mess of him and the sheets by her own strength. She hadn't wanted to wake Clint or Jeff.

The ache in her back was the least of the karma she deserved.

She was sure she looked terrible, with her messy hair and tired face. Her throat was dry, and her stomach had been growling for hours, but she hadn't dared leave Ben for even a moment.

There was a knock on the door, and she fought to keep her eyes open, her head resting on her propped-up leg. "Come in," she said quietly, mindful of the sleeping Runner.

It was Newt who opened the door, holding a cup of water and a bowl of porridge. She could've cried from appreciation.

"How is he?" He asked carefully, as though the question might set her off again. He was walking on eggshells when he shouldn't need to. She hated that he needed to.

Ari shrugged, staring down at the Glader. He looked much less peaceful now, with a furrow between his brows, and his mouth forming around unspoken words. "He's been throwing up most of the night, but otherwise okay at the moment. Very restless."

She shivered and buried herself further into the chair, trying to shield herself from Newt's sympathetic eyes.

"And you?" He asked.

"I'm okay." She swallowed a bite of food, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just waiting for him to wake up."

There was a pause between them, the unspoken wish that he would just open his eyes wrapping itself around the air of the room until it suffocated them.

Newt got up, coming to stand beside her to deliver a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, and it made her miss something, but she didn't know what. "Do you want me to stay?"

She shook her head, the corner of her lip lifting. "No, I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Okay." Newt hesitated, removing his hand. "Clint will be up in a moment to take over, and you can take the day off to rest. And that's an order, not a question."

She scrunched her nose at his pointed look. "Yes sir."

He gave a disappointed huff but smiled. "Call for me if you need anything in the meantime?"

"Newt," she chastised. He was being a tad overprotective. Not that she minded. It left her body warm in a way that only he could make it; a kind of gentle heat that could surely keep her warm, even on the coldest night of the year. No matter what, Newt always had her back. "I'll be fine."

"I know," he whispered like a reflex. And then he was moving out the door, but Newt being Newt, had to give one last order that she couldn't even protest to. "Just yell!"

Not longer after he was gone, Ben moaned in pain.

She left her breakfast bowl on the table, turning her full attention to her patient.

"Ben?" She prodded softly, putting a hand on his wrist to feel his pulse. It was awfully quick. Her hand reached for the bucket beside the bed. "Are you gonna throw up again?"

He moved onto his side, clutching his stomach and letting out another noise. He mumbled a string of incoherent mutterings.

"Ben?" She questioned again.

"Traitor," he whispered, opening his eyes. He was staring right at her, and for the first time since he'd gotten stung, he didn't look like he was in another world. He looked fully present, which is why a shiver went down her spine, when he more forcefully, but still so very tiredly, whispered the word again. "Traitor."