The First Lost Boy (Wattys 2017) ON HOLD

t w e n t y • s i x

Very important A/N at the end so make sure you read it! Unedited, but enjoy.

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Harry had planned to take Gwen to see the Indians the next morning, but when he was awoken to the sound of her vomiting, he knew it couldn't wait. He rolled over on his side of the bed, sleepy eyes roaming over Gwen's form that was bent over the side of the bed. One hand weakly held her hair back but he couldn't see her face due to her turned away from him. He frowned when she coughed, a painful whimper leaving her lips seconds later.

"Gwen, are you alright?" He sat up, putting his hand to her back to rub it soothingly and tried not to flinch away when he could feel the bones of her spine.

"I-I'm fine." She mumbled, wiping the back of her mouth before rolling onto her back again. She kept her distance from Harry, not wanting him to smell her horrid breath. Harry though, didn't care and scooted closer to her and scrutinized her face. It was pale, and her eyes looked sunken in. Her chest rising and falling with exertion as she tried to breath regularly.

"I don't understand why you haven't stopped vomiting." He thought aloud while Gwen's eyes fluttered closed tiredly. He thought maybe she'd fallen asleep again but just before Harry could lie back down, Gwen sucked in a breath and rolled off to the side again. Harry reached out just as she began throwing up, grabbing her hair and holding it back for her. Since he moved closer though, he was able to see the side of her face and what he saw made his body freeze with fear.

Gwen whimpered as she lifted her hand to wipe the corner of her mouth, hand pulling away before she glanced down at her hand. There, for both her and Harry to see was a splotch of blood. Gwen's eyes widened and before she could anything else, Harry moved to look over the side of the bed into the bowl she'd been vomiting in. There was blood.

"Fuck this," he muttered and stood up immediately. He moved around the room with purpose, picking up his overalls before pulling them up over his legs. He grabbed the canteen the lost boys had found months ago and used it to fill it with water that currently sat in a bowl on the table by his bed.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked him weakly and Harry moved towards her, picking up the ripped wet fabric he'd been using to keep her forehead cool. He squatted down in front of her, gently cupping her cheek in his palm before wiping her mouth off with the cloth.

"I'm going to take you to see the Indians."

"The Indians?"

"Yes."

"Now? What for?"

"They might be able to help you." He told her, pulling the cloth away once her mouth was clean. He tossed it to the side and took her hands in his as he stood up, carefully trying to sit her up. "We need to go now."

"Harry, maybe I should just stay here and you-,"

"No." He said firmly and tugged on her hands again. Gwen obeyed, sitting up slowly but there was a grimace on her face. "You're vomiting blood. I need to know what's wrong with you, before I can help you."

Gwen stayed silent this time, knowing that he was right. She wasn't a doctor but she knew vomiting blood was a bad sign that something was wrong. Though she wouldn't say it aloud, she feared what the Indians would tell her what was wrong with her. Was I dying? She wondered it during the past few days now. And sometimes, she really did feel as if she were.

"Okay." She whispered, taking a deep breath before attempting to stand. She hadn't properly walked over the last three days. The only times she was actually removed from the bed was when she needed to go to the restroom. If it wasn't for that reason, she was glued to the bed.