After dragging a mattress in from the neighboring cabin and kicking some sandals out of the way, Belle set up her bed right next to her little brother's bunk.
"I guess we'll head out tomorrow," she started, lying down and resting a forearm on her brow. She smiled up at Claus. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take up so much time just jumping around and jabbering."
"It's totally fine. I'm in no rush. It would be nice to see Tim, but—" Claus drew in a sharp breath—"I can wait a while." Slowly nodding, he shifted his legs with a wince and looked down at his sister. "And it was worth it, catching up a little with you."
"Aw, thanks." She grinned.
Claus watched her for a minute before hopping onto his good foot, the sneaker sole slipping a bit. He wobbled onto his knees and embraced Belle.
"Good night, sis."
She hugged him back, patting him a bit as he started sniffling. "Good night, Claus."
He held on a little longer, and Belle shifted her shoulders.
"You feel kind of warm," she started, pulling one of her hands away to reach for his forehead.
Claus sputtered and ducked out of the way. "Of course I'm warm. It's, like, a hundred degrees in here."
"Can we prop open the door?" she started, pulling back. "That could get some air flowing if the rain won't blow in, too."
Claus waved a hand. "It's fine. I've made it through nights hotter than this."
"Then quit complaining." She flicked him on the nose. With an exaggerated groan of pain, he rubbed the injured area and tried to get back to his feet.
"Here." Belle hopped up and gave him a hand. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? I understand if you just haven't had much to eat, but—"
"I'm fine, Belle." Claus rolled his eyes. "Don't worry so much."
"All right, all right." The mattress shrieked as she plopped back down onto it. "Get a good night's sleep. We've got a lot of walking to do come morning."
Claus grinned, still teary-eyed. "Yes, ma'am."
Beaming, Belle rolled back onto the middle of her bed and put her head on the pillow. "Good night, everyone."
"Good night," Arthur said, still sitting on the edge of his mattress. Kiku echoed and shut his eyes.
The rain was barely audible when Belle woke up. Stretching, she yawned and eventually sat up. Claus was still slack in his bed, his back turned towards her. Still there.
Maybe she could let him sleep in a little more. How early was it? She needed to go outside to check on the water bucket, anyway, so maybe she could have checked on the sun, too. She may have even caught the sunrise. If it was visible beyond the rainclouds, she'd have to wake Claus and drag him out to see.
The door suddenly opened before she quite touched it. Hurrying back, she rubbed her eyes as Arthur, his back against the door, stepped inside.
Upon catching sight of her, he cringed. "I didn't ram into you, did I?"
"No," she breathed, holding the door open as he carried the full water bucket into the building.
"Good." He backed up past Claus's bunk before setting the pail down. "Sorry for startling you, anyway."
"Don't worry about it. I was only going to check on that bucket." Arms akimbo, she looked down at the water's surface. It still sloshed, warping the slotted light from the blinds, and a few dribbles had already made it down the sides.
"I managed to see when it first filled up last night," Arthur said, rubbing his palms to get rid of the handle's impressions. "So I refilled the water bottles. Also checked the other cabin for any containers, but there wasn't anything good."
"All right." Belle clapped her hands together quietly. "Good job. I'm sure we'll use all of it." She glanced at Claus, who still hadn't moved a muscle. "Did I miss the sunrise?"
Arthur frowned. "I'm not sure. It's too overcast."
"Rats." She folded her arms and eyed the door, which was still open a crack. The wedge of light it let in was dull and colorless. "I'll let Claus sleep in a while longer, then."
Arthur looked past her shoulder at Claus and lowered his eyebrows a bit.
"What?" Belle looked back at her brother. "Not in the most flattering position, is he?"
Facedown in his pillow, he had one arm crossed under him and pinned beneath his ribs. The other was flung back beyond the edge of the mattress, leaving the fingers dangling. His back was hunched, and his bent knees stuck to each other symmetrically. His shoes, pushing down at the bunched-up covers, bent at the most comfortable-looking angle of any of his joints.
He hadn't shifted in the least from the last time she looked at him. He wasn't budging at the moment, either. Was his chest even moving?
Belle darted over, trying to swallow the jitter in her throat. As she hunched behind him, she thought how ridiculous and paranoid this was. But it was her little brother, and if she was supposed to protect him, she had to get worried sometimes.
The vague strips of light from the far blinds only let her make out his general position. She briefly thought to open both doors for light but quickly decided that was too likely to wake him up. After a while more of peering at his shoulders, though, she flung open the panels and hurried back towards her brother's bunk.
Claus was pale. But he hadn't been properly tan in the best of times, and—she just needed to breathe a little. To calm down and see what was actually there.
He had seemed unwell yesterday... And a little confused...
Shaking out her arms, she tiptoed around to his left side.
"Claus?" she started quietly, pulling back the hair that hid his face.
She nearly jumped. He looked grey, totally grey, and she couldn't have been imagining that.
"Arthur," she called, voice quavering. "Does he look pale to you?"
Arthur hesitantly stepped over and afforded a glance at Claus. "Yes," he said uncertainly. "Quite?"
Belle chewed on her tongue and jostled her little brother's shoulder. He didn't feel outright cold, but neither did the wooden bed. His muscles were a bit stiff, but he still flopped as she tried to rouse him. Every part of him that rested on the mattress was pinkish-purple, but it could have just been bruises. His eyelids were shut, but she didn't want to open them, didn't want to see—
She had to calm down. As if her little brother would be dead for no reason. There was a perfectly logical explanation for all of the symptoms. If she could just get him to wake up and talk to her, she could figure it out and fix him.
"Claus. Claus. Claus!" She kept shaking his shoulder. "It's already morning. Sorry about your teen drowsies, but we have a long way to go, and you need to get up now. Tim's waiting for you, you know. Wake up!"
Biting on her lip, she paused for a minute before letting her hand fall off him. A look up proved that Arthur had backed away a few steps, and Kiku stood a bit farther behind.
"Maybe we could dump a little water on him," she said, gripping her elbows hard. "How cold is it?" She nodded spasmodically at the bucket.
Arthur took a shaky step towards the pail, although he made no motion to test the water. "Not very. Um, we could probably put it to better use, though."
"Yeah." Belle re-crossed her arms and looked down at her brother. "If he would just wake up the good, old-fashioned way!" She ducked down a bit to face him and hollered his name.
Upon getting no response, she jostled his shoulder a few more times and straightened up. "Fine, one of you try to wake him. D-don't know why he's not listening to me."
Kiku watched Claus silently, while Arthur just stared at her and quivered.
"What?" she snapped, thrusting her clenched hands down. "You're not even going to try? You're so sure he's dead, huh? But how could he be dead? He had enough food stored up, and he definitely didn't get stabbed while I was watching!" She glanced back down at Claus as if to double-check. "He wasn't even hurt—or—Well, a twisted ankle—" she tugged his sock down—"is hardly going to kill—"
The ankle was not sprained. Not that she could tell, at least. She couldn't be sure when an inflamed wound gaped across nearly the entire face of the joint. Bordered by shreds of dark, purplish skin that eventually faded into red, it frothed with watery exudate that obscured any deeper damage. The dead tissue went past the lip on his shoe, but she had no desire to see any more.
Letting the gauze-lined sock snap back into place, Belle stared at the wadded-up covers.
She must have just imagined that. Hadn't Claus specifically said he had twisted his ankle? Or had he? He wouldn't lie to her. He wouldn't lie to his big sister. Not when she could help him.
Did he not think she could have helped? She had antibiotics, she had fresh bandages, she even had someone who could do sutures. She could have fixed it. She knew she could have fixed it. Why didn't he trust her? How could he just give up and die? How far gone could he have possibly felt? How could... How did... How...
The way Arthur started, she knew she must have started talking aloud. For how long, she didn't really care.
"But he said it was just the other day," she mumbled, realising she was locking her knees but unable to readjust. "How could it get that bad? How could it kill him? How could it kill him now? H-how could he be dead? How could—how could it have only been a few days ago?" High-pitched gasping setting in like hiccups, she covered her mouth. "H-how could I be too late?"
Finally beginning to sob, she dragged her gaze towards Arthur. He made a choking noise, took a step toward her, froze, choked again, and whirled on his heel. He looked close to vomiting as he fled out the door.
Belle stared after him for a moment before Kiku hastily walked that way.
"One moment, please," he muttered, giving her a nod of apology before hurrying after his friend.
Head spinning, Belle turned back towards the corpse on the bed and wept.
