"Will you tell me what happened?" asked Minho after he locked the door to his room. Vivienne shrugged looking around the room. It was messy with dirty underwear and sweaty, stinky shirts scattered on the floor alongside papers with drawings on it. The Maze - she thought. "Vivienne?" He put his palm on her shoulder startling her.
"I can sleep on the floor," she told him in haste.
"I... um... well," he rubbed his neck, his eyes repeating the movement of hers. "We should talk to Alby first."
"Why?" Her eyes were wide. If Minho wanted to compare her to something it would be a frightened doe. The situation made him anxious and uncomfortable.
"Well," he started, "Firstly he's the leader, and secondly if someone were to find you here don't you think it would look slightly suspicious?" As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. If someone was looking for her for whatever reason, found her there and told the whole Glade... What a fuss that would be! "Unless you want to shucking tell me what got you so worked up?" he suggested.
"Nothing," she rubbed her temple, thinking whether to tell him.
No! - she thought - Even if he'd believe me it would destroy his relationship with Ben - his maze-running partner who he needed to trust!
"My period must be getting to me," she faked a laugh.
"Didn't you have it like last week or something?"
"Well," she trailed off, not having expected him to remember, "I should see Clint and Jeff about this, shouldn't I?" She left him wondering what the shuck just happened.
Minho wandered around the Glade, thinking what he shall do. He did not remember his previous life meaning he did not recall girls' behavior - excluding Vivienne that is.
She was... a specific creature. Sometimes stubborn, other times cocky, sometimes just weird. Never before had she been this weird though. He could have left it as it was, let her manage her problem on her own but she'd come to him. Therefore, he felt responsible, frankly had no idea how to help. He knew someone who could, though.
Glade mom - Minho often wondered whether Newt knew about the nickname or still lived in denial - practically always knew if anyone needed help and hardly ever did not know what to advice.
He didn't bother to knock - he had never had. Newt sat on his bed, rubbing his palms together, his brows knitted. Minho recalled times when he would study maps all day and night with drops of anxious sweat gracing his forehead. It had been so long since then...
"Bloody hell, Minho, what the shuck do you want?!"
"Not in the mood, huh?" he asked bitterly, "Guess, who else isn't? Let me give you a clue - a petite girl, the only one in here? By your reaction, I guess, you know what's up, so... Care to shucking cooperate?" he yelled the last part.
In fact, Newt had little idea of what was really going on. He knew one thing, Vivienne was petrified. Whether it was because of him - because he hurt her - he couldn't tell.
"She told me she slipped," he explained to Minho what occurred between them before.
"That's it?" Minho was getting more impatient. "Wouldn't Vi simply laugh it off?" Newt shrugged. He'd much rather talk to Vivienne herself if she let him.
"Maybe Legend will know something..."
"That annoying youngling?" Minho threw his hands into to air.
"Oh, slim it!"
Meanwhile, Vivienne sat at Medjack's hut drinking a mix of herbs they prepared for her.
"Not to rush you or anything," Jeff yawned, "But we're closing up real soon..."
"I can 'close up' if you want to go to bed," she offered. They both agreed, and if she weren't so anxious, Vivienne would have smiled.
She spent the night on the makeshift bed, squirming as her mind wondered. Did Minho talk to Alby? Did Ben come to visit her again? What did he think?
"Nope, haven't seen her? Did something happen?" Legend asked, worry clear in his voice.
"No," Newt shook his head, "She's just odd. We only wanted to know if she said something."
"Here you are." She heard a voice in a middle of the night. She would have screamed if she didn't recognize who it was.
"Jesus!" she scolded him, "Why aren't you asleep?"
"Guys told me you were being weird."
"Oh."
"Oh? That's all you gotta say?"
"Yes."
"Why are you here?"
"I..." She found herself at loss of words.
"You..."
"Just go to bed, Legend."
"You're a greybeard not mum."
"Ugh." She turned to face the wall.
"Vivienne... Why are you here?" She couldn't remember his voice ever being so hesitant.
"I'm scared," she admitted finally, "And I don't know what to do." She turned back to him as a single tear escaped her eye. Silence settled between the two of them as they both rethought her words. All of them were scared just not for the same reason.
"Kosk yn ta, Kosk yn ta," he started singing, "silver pilchards called to thee, Kosk yn ta,"
"You missed a line," she cracked a smile.
"Well, it's been a long time since you sang to me," he defended himself with a smug smirk.
"My bad then," she snickered. "When the moon is on the sea." He was gazing at her with a hint of something she couldn't understand - trust maybe?
"Kosk yn ta, kosk yn ta," he joined her.
She didn't remember when she fell asleep.
She awoke to a cold piece of cloth being pressed against her forehead. A few layers lay atop her making her sweat. She felt trapped underneath their weight, hot and frustrated.
She groaned as she fought to free herself.
"Vivienne stop this." Someone's hands were on her shoulders keeping her down on the bed. She couldn't see him for the cloth blocked her vision.
"Let. Me. Go," she demanded.
"Alright, calm down." She was set free. She threw blankets on the floor and got rid of the cloth off of her head.
"Clint? Jeff? What the shuck is going?" she yelled at them.