CH. SEVENTEEN
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"You're back!" Camil wheels over to the girl the second he sees her. "Awesome!"
She nods, rubbing her neck. "Yeah," with a hoarse voice.
"Come on, we'll get you somethin' to eat." He starts wheeling back to the picnic tables, where some boys are having breakfast, and she follows in silence.
It's like she's walking through butter. Her legs hardly move and when they do, she almost doesn't feel it. Her head is still pounding, along with her heart, slamming against her ribs, which also hurts. Oh, and then her wrist!
"Joan!" Smiling, Frypan places a good amount of food on her and Camil's plates. "Good to have you back."
She nods another time. Sits down across from Camil. Her appetite isn't really there, but she still manages to fill half of her stomach.
"So?" Her friend looks at her with big eyes. "What did you see?" A pause. "Don't feel forced to tell me," he adds.
Joan shrugs. "Chemicals. Fires."
"Well, that helps."
"Yeah, because I really got to choose what to remember," she snaps. Then her eyes wide, and the apology leaves her mouth fast: "Sorry."
"It's alright," he assures. "The Changing ain't nothing."
After a few seconds of silence, Joan gets up to hand her half-empty plate in. Then she debates what activity will keep her mind off things. Perhaps she could make a serum or something. Good-smelling oils have been amazing to make so far.
So she mumbles something to Camil, then makes her way to her hut in a slow pace. Takes the supplies, sits down against a tree trunk, and starts working. Rosemary oil for today.
For if she ever cuts her hair again and regrets it, it'll help. Wow, good thinking.
However, she feels slow and dazed off right now. No intrusive thoughts.
Then there's a cough and she hums in reply, recognizing who it is. "What do you want?" She then spits out.
"Just checking up," Gally says.
"Just go back to Jeff and tell him I'm fine. I don't need you talking to me because you're so experienced, apparently," she tells him.
He clears his throat. "You sure—"
"Yes, dammit I'm sure." Her head snaps up at him. "Leave me the fuck alone."
She doesn't want to think about Gally right now. Not about that stupid fight because she appeared to have betrayed them. Not about him not wanting to forgive her. Not about their relationship through the years. Not about anything.
"Alright," he says.
"Alright," she grumbles.
He's still there after a minute.
"I told you to leave—"
"You're sitting on my box of supplies."
She gets off them so roughly that she knocks her little mixture over, and since it had been boiling above a fire before, it burns her skin when it pours right onto her wrist and hand. "Fuck!" She curses, tears springing in her eyes almost immediately.
Alert, he crouches down next to her. "Gotta put cold water on—"
"Get your damn box and leave," she repeats. "Stop being nice out of a sudden, only because you feel bad or whatever the hell's going on. Just leave me alone."
"I'll get blamed for leaving you like this."
"So what?" She mutters. "Not like you're not familiar with blaming."
He stares at her for a while, different emotions flashing over his face. "Go to the Med-Hut."
"No. I spent three days in there already. I'll go to the lake." She gets up. A tear slips, and she quickly wipes it away, yet he has already seen it.
"I think we should—"
"We, are not doing anything," she cuts him off. "Because, well, lemme see..." she holds her fingers up, "you're never gonna forgive me, I'm untrustworthy, we hate each other, the only reason you're checking up is Jeff, and I don't want anyone around me right now."
It takes a while for the words to get through his head, but then he takes a step back. "Fine. Go be your own Med-Jack with one bored-through wrist and one burned hand."
"Go be a Builder with all that air in your head." She slams her shoulder into him, but it only causes more pain to shoot through her arm. She hisses, then stumps off.
❀
Her reflection looks back at her. The water wiggles every time a tear leaks.
Well, this is so lovely. Gally and Minho got punished heavily because she told the wrong person something important, Newt attempted suicide, this whole trial is a punishment, her family is dead, the world is scorched.
And what now? How would Camil even survive the Maze in a wheelchair, let alone a desert? She won't find anything out there but sand. No family or friends. People in here like her, but hey, they also liked Nick, and George, and anyone who has died.
She just can't think of anything that's worth living for a the moment. She doesn't want to leave this place just to live in a desert, but neither does she want to stay with all these boys.
"Hey." She jumps at the sudden voice, only recognizing the boy once he has himself settled beside her.
"Oh. Hi, Alby."
"Ya alright?" He wonders.
She shrugs. "Could be better, but fine."
The leader holds up a small bottle. She recognizes it immediately: it's one of her oils. "Allow me?"
Joan gives a hesitant nod. He holds her burnt wrist underwater for a good minute, which she hisses at, then dabs it dry and drops oil onto her skin.
"Thanks," she mutters.
"It's alright to feel like this, you know?" He raises an eyebrow. "But it's good to talk about it with someone. Understandable you don't want to worry anyone or just want to be alone today, but it can't go like that forever."
"I'll keep it in mind."
"I mean it."
Joan hums. "Didn't the ones who talked about it strangle themselves?"
"I don't mean about what you saw. Well, not just about what you saw. Also about how you feel."
She hums again. "I'd rather ignore my feelings and don't feel anything."
He manages a laugh. "I've heard that before."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You and Gally are more alike than you think," Alby announces.
"Pff," she scoffs. "No, we're not."
"Stubborn, sometimes a bit grumpy, keeping feelings for yourselves, caring more than you show—"
"So I'm a total ass, too? Also, when did you become a therapist like this, Alby? New job? The Therapists? There's plenty of kids who will need it, trust me."
"Trust me. Talk about things, make it up, and y'all would get along," he assures.
"No. People with similar personalities don't get along. And I'm nothing like Gally." Joan gets up. "I think I'm gonna get bandages after all. Good talk."
❀
On her way to the Med-Hut, she realized the sweater she was wearing wasn't even hers. So quickly, she changed and figured out it was the one Gally owned before. Now she enters the Med-Hut, the sweater in her hands, and mouth opening to ask for bandages.
Then she closes it again, because Gally happens to be in the Med-Hut.
Eventually, she holds the sweater up. "This is yours?"
He blinks. "Sort of."
She tosses the thing at him. "There you go."
"I don't think—" But he stops himself from continuing and inhales sharply. "Never mind. Thanks, I guess."
She turns to Jeff without replying to Gally. "Do you have any bandages?"
His eyebrows lift.
"Please," she adds.
"There you go." Smiling, the Med-Jacks starts wrapping it around her wrist.
"Sorry," Joan mumbles. "Not feeling the best today."
"It's alright," he tells her, just like everyone else has done. "Want to talk about it?"
She shakes her head.
"Maybe Gally—"
"Absolutely not. Ever gonna stop suggesting we go talk, Jeff?"
"Ever gonna listen and just make it up, Joan? I would start a bet, saying this is all about one little issue."
Gally crosses his arms. "We're no longer allowed to just not get along with someone?"
"There's a difference between not getting along and having a whole situation going on," Jeff says. "So please, make whatever's going on up. Will cheer everyone up."
"No."
"No."
They share a glare, both expressions as nasty.
"Just give up, Jeff." Clint sighs. "It ain't workin'. Gally, you mind getting me some clean cloths? They're in the extra room, there." He points at the room Joan spent her previous day in.
"Sure," Gally mutters, vanishing.
Jeff finishes treating Joan's arm. He makes eye contact with Clint a few times, and that starts to connect dots in her mind. The way they're grinning really seems like something is going on between.
"Eh, Joan..." Jeff swallows. "You bother getting some extra medicines? Over there." He also points at the room.
She nods. This is awesome, if it means 'JACKIT' will happen! Fast, she rushes in the room, where Gally is still looking for cloths.
Then the door slams closed behind her, it locks, and something lands on the floor. Just like that, her smile fades.
It might've not been a JACKIT project.