Bellamy had called in sick to class, but it was her fault- he wasn't sick at all, she was. Her fever had started after midnight, raging all night and on into the morning. Aurora had finally had her hours increased at the factory again, still not back to normal but getting closer, so she couldn't afford to take any time off.
"Leave me," Octavia had tried to argue, even as her body trembled and her skin became ashen and clammy. "I'll be fine."
"No way," Bellamy had insisted.
"Sweetheart, you're very sick," Aurora had said, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead that almost immediately warmed. But she still seemed worried at the prospect of Bellamy missing cadets.
"It's fine, Mom," Bellamy assured her. "Go to work. I'm a model student, one day off sick isn't going to matter."
The decision had been made, and Aurora had left. Bellamy brought her cool water to drink and he dabbed more across her face and on the soles of her feet.
"You know what a fever is, O?"
"A fight," she answered, teeth chattering.
"That's right, and you know who's going to win? You are, because you're strong." She could see the worry in his dark eyes, hear an edge of fear in his voice. But Octavia wasn't scared, just tired.
She slept fitfully, in and out, while Bellamy stayed close to her. He might have been telling her stories, but she didn't know. Her dreams were strange, long, creeping and sluggish.
The only reason she woke fully was because her every sense was tuned to this, had been since birth- a pounding on the door, an unexpected visitor.
Beside her, sitting up in a chair, her brother froze. Stared at the door for a long moment. Tried to comprehend.
Then he was up and moving quickly, pressing a hand against the door as though he could will whoever was on the other side to go away.
The pounding came again.
Bellamy moved quickly, running to the table and moving it aside as quietly as he could. "Just a minute!"
Again the knocking, more urgent now. Whoever wanted that door opened was not going to go away.
Scooping her up in his arms, Bellamy hurried Octavia to the hole and gently laid her on the blanket inside. She felt as lethargic as her dreams, as though nothing was quite real, but the cold floor was oddly comforting, doing more for her burning skin than any sponge bath.
The knocking was still going, and now there was a voice calling her brother's name.
"O," he whispered, cradling her face in his hands, turning her eyes up to his. "You have to be quiet, okay?"
Octavia knew that he was worried she was out of it, that she wouldn't realise what was going on, but even in her fevered state she was well aware of the importance of silence. After she'd given him a sincere nod, he closed the sky on her.
She heard the table slide back into place. Heard him cross quickly to the door, heard it open. She held her breath.
Bellamy's voice was surprised as he said, "What are you doing here?" The visitor, whoever it was, strode into the room uninvited. Bellamy closed the door behind him and said, "Vaughn- what are you doing here?"
Octavia turned her face and peered up through the small handhold. She was curious because she knew that name- he was Bellamy's classmate from cadets, one he actually hung out with when he didn't have to… the first person she could really remember Bellamy ever calling a friend. Bellamy had told her a lot about Vaughn, that he was nice and funny, that he talked a lot, that he was kind.
Looking up through the hole, she could see a boy who was fair-haired and fair-skinned, wearing the same uniform that Bellamy wore every day when he left for cadets. This was the only perspective from which she saw people who were not Bellamy or Aurora. She always wondered how tall they might be.
"What are you doing here?" Bellamy asked him again, an edge creeping into his voice.
Vaughn was holding something in his hands, small and metal. He held it out. "Here, I brought this for you."
"What?" Bellamy took it, and Octavia could hear the obvious surprise in his voice. She heard him opening the canister, but she couldn't quite see him, only Vaughn. A delicious smell reached her nose and she inhaled, feeling her mouth water a little. "What is it?" Bellamy asked.
"Chicken soup," Vaughn said, obviously surprised. "Haven't you ever had it?"
"Of course I have," Bellamy said impatiently, and Octavia heard him screwing the lid back in place. She saw Bellamy's hand outstretched, holding the canister, but his friend didn't make a move to take it. "Why did you bring me this?" he clarified.
"There's a pop quiz in an hour," Vaughn answered. "It's worth twenty per cent of our grade. I'm not supposed to know about it, but I do… I came here as quick as I could, but I have to get back soon." He handed over another thing. "That's medicine… my girlfriend got it for me, so don't worry."
"And the soup?" Bellamy asked, still not getting that part of it, though Octavia could hear the underlay of gratitude for the medicine.
A hint of sheepishness crept into Vaughn's voice as he said, "It always makes me feel better."
Octavia's mind clicked with realisation. Bellamy had called in sick. Vaughn was trying to help him get better in time for this important test. He was a good friend! She couldn't help but smile despite how bad she felt, liking that Bellamy had a real friend.
"Oh." Realisation seemed to hit her brother at the same time as her. "Right. Hey… thanks man, that's really good of you."
"So hurry up and drink it so we can get back to class," Vaughn said with a grin. Even from her angle, Octavia could see how handsome his smile was, and she couldn't help a tiny flush of pink that rose into her cheeks.
She lost herself in a daydream for a moment, imagining that she was up there too with the two of them, that there was no one-child policy. Bellamy would introduce her as his little sister, and Vaughn would smile at her, pleased to meet someone who was so important to his friend. They would shake hands- or wait, no, maybe he would hug her. His arms would be strong, and he'd smell good. Somehow she'd be able to tell that he thought she was cute, that he wished Bellamy wasn't there so he could tell her that. Kiss her maybe.
Bellamy was talking to Vaughn again, pulling her out of her daydream. "Look man, I really appreciate it, but I can't. I have to stay in bed."
"Come on," Vaughn urged him. "You don't even look that sick… I'm sure the soup will get you through, and if you miss this quiz-"
"I'll make it up," Bellamy interrupted him, his voice firm. Octavia wished she could speak up, wished she could tell him she'd be okay for a couple of hours, that he could go and she'd survive, but she knew she couldn't make a single sound.
Letting out a breath, Vaughn shook his head but relented. "Okay… well, the quiz will be in second period, right after lunch. You've still got an hour. I hope you change your mind."
"See you tomorrow," Bellamy said, firmly. He went to do the door and opened it, and Octavia took one last look at Vaughn before he walked out, hearing the door shut behind him.
As soon as Bellamy opened the floor panel she sat up and pulled herself out. "You should have gone, Bell, it sounds important," she said, wobbling on her feet just a little as she moved too fast and felt a rush of vertigo.
Bellamy put an arm around her and helped her back to their mother's bunk, where she insisted, "He was really nice to come here and warn you."
"I can't leave you alone," he said, shaking his head. He grabbed a glass of water and gave her the pills Vaughn had brought, watching her drink them down.
"I'm thirteen, not three," she reminded him, making a face.
He hesitated, and that's when she knew that he was actually worried about the quiz, that he'd brushed it off to Vaughn but it was definitely important. "Bell, go," she urged him.
Again, he hesitated, and then he let out a breath, raising a hand and pressing his palm against her forehead. He opened the canister, handing it to her. "Drink this."
She did, and it was delicious- better than any soup she'd ever had. She knew Vaughn was from Alpha, so she imagined it was some kind of expensive gourmet chicken soup. Or at least, it tasted that way to her. She smiled a little to herself as she enjoyed it, imagining that Vaughn had brought it for her, that he was her secret boyfriend.
Once she'd drunk her fill of the soup, she lay down in the bed again and once more Bellamy pressed his hand to her forehead, testing.
"I feel a little better," she assured him. "I swear, I'm not just saying that." It was true- the medicine, the cold floor in the hole, and the soup had helped, and she felt a lot better now than she had last night, or even this morning. Squeezing his hand she said, "I'm going to be okay, Bell."
They both knew it was true. Her sicknesses raged worse than anyone in her family, but if she was going to die from it, she would have as a child, not now.
Finally, he relented- but only, he assured her, because of the quiz, and he would be home as quick as he could.
"It's okay, Bell," she promised him. "Really."
He grabbed his uniform, hastily pulling it on, and then he was out the door. Octavia curled into the wall and, almost immediately, drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke, she felt a lot better, very nearly back to normal- just tired, but her fever had broken. She couldn't help but think of Vaughn, and she couldn't quite remember, but she was fairly sure she'd just been dreaming about him.
She took the opportunity to think about him again, what little she'd seen of him. All the men her mother brought home, or the ones who came for inspections, they were usually old. Vaughn didn't look much older than she was. A real boy, close to her own age, who was friends with her brother? That was something out of a book. In the story, he would want to date her. He would worry about what Bellamy would think, but he'd want it anyway, and she'd want to date him too, and they would. It would be perfect.
Octavia felt a fluttering in her chest and stomach as she thought about it. His smile had looked nice, even from her upward angle. He'd looked kind, cute, and he was generous, bringing that soup, and the medicine- she ignored the fact that he'd said his girlfriend had gotten the medicine. She wondered what his arms would feel like around her. She wondered whether his lips were soft or rough.
She imagined what it would feel like to be touched. His hands trailing over her body, his lips pressing against hers. She knew sometimes people touched tongues, though that seemed weird. Octavia slid her hands over her own modest breasts as she thought about Vaughn doing the same. What would that feel like? Would it be better than her own hands?
She felt a familiar knot of pressure growing in her lower belly, like when she let the shower run between her legs- good but never quite enough, even though she had no idea what enough would feel like either. She let her eyes close, trailing a hand down her stomach and pressing it between her legs, squeezing them shut against that delicious pressure for a long moment.
Octavia imagined it was Vaughn's hand instead of hers, and then she imagined that he was lying on top of her, his lips on her lips, his warm body pressed against hers. She imagined he liked her breasts.
Relaxing her legs, she slid a hand beneath her clothes, exploring herself tentatively, imagining that it wasn't her hand at all. She felt a wetness between her legs that she knew came from within her, like a mystery. Her breaths came quicker as she whispered softly, "Vaughn…" Her body trembled in a good way.
After a while it felt like too much, and she stopped, rolling onto her side and letting her eyes open again, smiling softly into the empty room. Her body felt tingly, alive, and sleepy all at the same time.
She felt like she was on the verge of figuring something out- something big.