Author's note~ This will be the last update until January. Hope you enjoy!
As the repetitive music lulled him off towards sleep and Adrian made no overt moves to shift away, Newt stayed silently beside the man and tried to give him some kind of comfort by proximity alone. Ignorant as to the cause of Adrian's shut down, it was all he had to offer.
A pounding headache and a nasty case of cotton mouth greeted Adrian when he surfaced in the morning. Keeping his eyes tightly closed against the dim light seeping into his home he waited, giving himself the luxury of a little time to allow the haze to completely clear from his mind before he thought about his day. He didn't need to move to know he was going to have some serious kinks – one couldn't spend all night in an awkward slouched position without paying the price for it. Cautiously peeling his eyes open a slit, he looked down at the tangle of blonde hair that had taken up residence on his chest during the night.
He was being used as a teddy bear. Again.
Newt had obviously shifted positions at some point during the night, tucking one leg up underneath him and throwing the other across Adrian's lap in a disconcertingly intimate embrace. His arm was curled around the man's waist like an anchor, and the little puffs of his sleeping breath tickled against Adrian's chest. He held on securely, as if afraid that the man would magically disappear should he loosen his grip.
What is it with this kid? Adrian thought, his irritating hangover exacerbating his mood and leaving him flat out irked to find himself caught in the same position, yet again. Isn't there anyone else in the whole damn glade this kid can curl up with? Lifting a hand, he took a hold of Newt's shoulder and shook gently, trying to wake him. Newt made a small noise of protest and burrowed deeper, his grip tightening and his offending leg pressing against Adrian's delicate areas.
Nope. Uh-uh. Not happening. Dealing with this, right now.
He shook again, harder, speaking sharply.
"Wake up kid. Up and at'em. You need to move."
Newt blinked blearily, yawning hugely and bringing a fist up to rub the sleep from his eyes.
"A-ddy?" He yawned, his brain still murky with sleep. "Is it morning already?"
"Amazingly perceptive." Adrian said drily, fighting to stave off the urge to snarl. "Welcome back to the world of the living. I'm ready to get up for the day...do you mind?"
Newt stared at him, confused, unable to understand what the man was asking until Adrian patted the knee of his invasive leg. Eyes widening, the boy realized in a flash exactly how he was positioned. Mortified, beet red, he hurriedly extracted himself from the man's lap.
"You...you were all cuddled up to me!" He exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger at where Adrian was stiffly getting to his feet. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?"
Newt's voice was like a fork in his ear, an extra layer of pain over the already miserable state of his head.
"If you hadn't noticed," Adrian said coolly, "I was in the exact same position as when I finally fell asleep last night. You're the one who got overly friendly. Do you snuggle with the other guys like this?"
"Not bloody likely!"
Even the tips of Newt's ears had gone red in his humiliation.
"It appears to be an ongoing – and involuntary – habit of yours. You've done it before, when you slept beside me in the bed. Probably moving towards the warmth instinctively." Adrian explained as he pulled on his shirt, his unflappable patience resurfacing now that he had regained some measure of personal space. "I didn't mention it before because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Not that it really matters now, as you'll be back in your own bed tonight."
Newt lost all the color embarrassment brought to his face, going pale as milk at the shocking words.
"You're kicking me out?"
Adrian snorted, shaking his head.
"Kid, I invited you to stay here while you were healing. You're almost ready to run again, and certainly in good enough shape to sleep in your own damn bed, instead of on my couch. We'll both probably sleep better, back in our own space."
"You are kicking me out."
This time Adrian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Look, you knew this was only temporary. If I hadn't had so much on my mind yesterday, I would have suggested it then. It's time, that's all.No hard feelings."
"Really?" Newt asked, a little afraid of the answer. "You're not telling me to go because I...because you're....upset with me?"
Adrian laughed weakly, turning to the boy and smiling warmly.
"Don't be an idiot." Adrian said fondly. "You're still welcome to visit whenever, even to sleep on the couch once in a while. It's just time to get back to our regularly scheduled program."
"We're still friends?"
Adrian held out a hand, gripping the boy's hesitant one solidly.
"Friends. Now that that's resolved, can I please go and empty my bladder?"
By lunchtime Adrian's incessant headache had eased to a more bearable level, and he was even able to eat a reasonable portion of his meal. While he knew of many herbal remedies he could have taken to ease his suffering, he figured he'd earned the pain of the hangover fair and square, and as such muscled his way through until he reached the other side. Come dinner he felt mostly human again, even mustering up the energy to keep up with the eclectic conversations breezing by while he sat with Newt and the other runners.
Minho was a bit frosty at first, but he warmed up considerably after Adrian made a comment about how relieved Newt would probably be to sleep in his own bed that night. The man mentally shook his head at the minor display of jealousy, quietly amused at the terribly teenage notion of 'stealing friends'. Now that the perceived threat had passed Minho displayed his normal cheeky sass, throwing out cocky comments that usually resulted in a fresh wave of laughter. It was an entertaining meal.
Stepping through the door to his home that night was an interesting sensation – as relieved as he was to finally have a little space to breathe, he'd grown accustomed to having the boy there, filling the space with his curiosity and conversation. He did enjoy Newt's company, and hoped that the next time the boy stopped by to entertain him it would be under less distressing circumstances.
The absolute quiet was equal parts soothing and grating. No one here to pester him, nag him, eyeball him with that strange mixture of hope and fear. No one here to occupy his time, and keep his mind from wandering to unpleasant places. No one to exasperate him. No one to joke and laugh with.
He knelt in front of the bed, fishing the jar of drugged syrup from where he'd stashed it the day before. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared into the contents of the jar, fighting an ugly little internal battle.
With no one here to bother me, I could finish the jar in peace.
I'll have to deal with the hangover tomorrow, an experience I'm not really keen to repeat.
The pain tomorrow would be worth the relief tonight.
There's so much work still to do, and doing it in a haze is irresponsible.
God, I don't want to think. I just want to sleep.
It's a slippery path to addiction, using it like this.
I don't want the dreams.
What's one more night?
I don't want the dreams.
He'd loosened the lid of the jar and had it pressed to his lips when another series of thoughts ran through his head.
Newt's worried face last night.
Newt bustling around the house, tidying things as best he could in an effort to help.
Newt's concern over his state of mind.
Newt's forehead, gently pressed to his shoulder in an offer of comfort.
Sighing bitterly, Adrian recapped the jar and hid it away again. Stretching out on the bed and closing his eyes, not bothering to plug in his player, he gave up and let the silence of the night take him where it would.
The next five days passed in a blur. Every night, Adrian struggled against the desire to take the wild lettuce potion, tossing and turning for hours before he would finally succumb to sleep. Every morning, Adrian woke up sweaty and panting, his heart beating a frantic tattoo in his chest, his mind full of painful images from the past. Exhausted and frustrated, but clear minded, he would get up and throw himself into the work.
Mornings he spent working with the crew assigned to the large communal outhouse, putting his back into the work and wielding a shovel or an axe, discussing basic techniques, teaching by example. The afternoons he saved for Jeff, easing his lightly guilty conscience over the drug by drilling information into the boy, doggedly going over every bit of medical lore in his vast mental library. He usually shared dinner with the runners, carefully keeping the banter with Newt light and friendly in hoped of reinforcing his 'friends' edict in the boy's mind. In the evenings after all the normal work for the day had been completed, Adrian kept company with his 'girls', working with them to polish their styles – and cement the rules firmly in their heads.
"Sound off." Adrian commanded one such evening, while everyone busily mixed different shades of lipstick. "Let me hear it again."
The boys grumbled a little, but did as they were bade.
"One; There must be full consent. If anyone involved says no, anyone says stop, everything stops. Period," Alec intoned.
"Two; Do not break character for any reason." Brandon added mechanically, a result of repeating the line over and over again.
"Three; This is a job; we're providing a service. We have no obligation to provide this service outside of the job." Stephen stated confidently, mixing his concoction with gusto.
"Four; The other gladers are not told who is actually behind the character. This is for our safety."
"Five; We address each other by our character names only, and only respond to same. This is for our safety."
"Six; Never go off alone when in character. Safety in numbers."
"Seven; Never push someone to try something they are uncomfortable with."
"Eight; Never allow yourself to be pressured into doing something you are uncomfortable with."
"Nine; Send 'em home with a smile on their face."
"Good. And number ten?"
"Give 'em the ol' razzle-dazzle!" The boy chorused, laughing.
"That's right, girls. Absolutely right." Adrian affirmed proudly, looking around at his cheerfully grinning friends fondly. A glint of satisfaction and a resolute determination sparked in his eyes. "And with that...I think we're ready."
On the sixth day after Newt had moved back to his own bunk Adrian walked into the med hut to find a decidedly frazzled and certainly distracted Jeff, rushing around the office and checking their various stocks of medicine and supplies. The man stood and watched him for a moment, his head following the boy back and forth as he frantically flitted from area to area.
"Where's the fire Jeff?" He asked levelly, after the med jack had checked the same box of bandages three times. "Is there something you're not telling me? Some impending massacre?"
"It's the greenie. Clint." Jeff muttered, his voice fluctuating in pitch as his eyes scanned every nook and cranny of the med hut. "He's through his trials with the other keepers, and today he's with me. I'm supposed to work him, see if he's cut out to me a med jack."
"Ah." Adrian replied, understanding and mentally readjusting his plans for the afternoon. "Got it. Well, no lesson today, then. I'll just duck out, leave you to – "
"No!" Jeff cried, "You can't! You can't leave!"
"Jeff, man, what's the problem? You've done this before. A dozen times or more, you've done this before. Today you're better trained, more knowledgeable than you've ever been before. What's the issue?" Adrian asked, exasperated at the sudden lack of confidence.
"I hate trying out the greenies!" Jeff all but wailed, tugging at his hair with both hands and a wild look in his eyes. "How the shuck am I supposed to know if they're cut out to be med jacks?! I got this job by default! I can't know if some strange guy is going to be any good at this!"
"Pull it together, Jeff." Adrian warned, "Calm the hell down, take a breath. When he gets here, you'll take your best shot, that's all anyone could ask. See if he has any interest in learning about the plants, the meds, the treatments. See how his nerves are, how he does under stress."
"What stress?" Jeff demanded, still pulling at his hair. "There is no stress during a trial! The others, sure, they get to put him hands on. Dig that hole, swing that axe, clean up that carcass. Unless someone walks in missing a limb, there's no freakin' chance for the greenie to get any sort of true trial for med jack!"
"We'll figure it out." Adrian soothed, switching tense from singular to plural and resigning himself to playing babysitter. "We'll find something to throw at him, test his mettle."
"You'll stay? You'll help me?"
"Of course." Adrian sighed. "That's what I'm here for."
"Well, what do you think – "
A timid rap-rap-rap of a knock sounded at the front, and an unsteady questioning voice called through the open doorway.
"H-hey? Hello? I'm Clint? I'm supposed to see someone named Jeff about med jack training? Is that right?"
As Jeff had paled to an unhealthy ashy hue, Adrian took it upon himself to answer.
"Yeah, you're in the right place. Come on back, let's get a look at you."
A light skinned stocky boy with a mess of brown hair walked through the building, coming to a halt in front of the pair. He glanced curiously at the nervous boy before turning his attention to the somber looking man, a serious considering kind of expression on his face as he looked the new boy up and down. Clint held out a limp hand to Adrian.
"Jeff, right? I'm the new...greenie, Clint. You're going to show me what the med jacks do?"
Adrian took the hand firmly, giving it an almost avuncular shake.
"That we are, kid. But the name's Adrian. This fine gentleman to my left is Jeff."
Jeff's head bobbed up and down, and he audibly swallowed. Clint looked taken aback at the information, trepidation in his gaze as he looked from man to boy. Clearing his throat, he shifted uneasily from foot to foot.
"Well, uh, where do we begin?"
"Let's start you on the basics." Adrian said assertively, resisting the urge to elbow his utterly silent protégé. "As there's three of us here, I'll act as a dummy for you to practice on, while Jeff walks you through a few basic treatments. After that, we'll see how it goes."
"Perfect." Jeff exclaimed, speaking for the first time, relief emanating from him. "What do you want to start with?"
"Something simple." Adrian decided, walking away and hopping up onto the exam table. "Let's say I took a fall, and have a sprained ankle. Why don't you tell Clint here how we'd typically treat it, then see if you can walk him through the procedure?"
"Absolutely." Jeff agreed, pulling out the thrice counted box of bandaging. He stepped over in front of the man, waving the new boy over at Adrian's encouraging nod.
"Okay greenie. First things first," As Jeff spoke, confidence beginning to flicker to life in his voice. "To treat an injury, we've got to have access to the injury. Shoe comes off, sock comes off, pant leg get rolled up. Go ahead."
Following the instructions to a tee, Clint gripped Adrian's boot by the heal and toe and yanked it off roughly.
"Oww!" Adrian yelped realistically. "Jesus, Nurse Brutal, have a heart!"
Clint jumped like a scared rabbit at the outburst, cringing a little as Jeff chastised him.
"Gently!" Jeff barked, picking up Adrian's meaning flawlessly. "He's already injured, we don't want to make it worse, or hurt him more than absolutely necessary!"
Chagrined, Clint laid his lightly trembling hands on Adrian's 'damaged' appendage, rolling up his pant leg and easing his sock off with a whisper light touch. Adrian blew out a gust of air, as though relieved to have the pressure off. Clint looked to Jeff, waiting for the next instructions, and Adrian mentally nodded his endorsement at the sudden shift in authority.
Jeff took Adrian's bare foot in his hand, demonstrating how to feel for breakage, pointed out where to look for telltale swellings, moved the foot back and forth to check range of motion and determine exactly where the pain was. Testing Jeff as much as providing a learning experience for the new kid, Adrian made 'involuntary' pained noises whenever the foot was manipulated in certain directions, taking care to repeat them at the same points when Clint copied the med jack's ministrations. Jeff tilted his head, considering as he watched the greenie.
"Okay, so we've taken a good look. There doesn't appear to be any breaks, any external damage that we can see. That means that the harm's been done to the muscles underneath. For it to have a chance to heal properly, we need to support and stabilize the area while it heals."
Adrian bit the tip of his tongue to stop himself from voicing his approval out loud; Jeff was doing everything exactly right so far.
With Jeff guiding him and showing him the method, Clint effectively wrapped the foot and ankle in a uniform layer of supportive stretch bandage, restricting range of motion in the joint but not cutting off the blood flow to the foot or toes. Once the treatment was complete, Adrian verbally stepped back in.
"Sprained ankle has been successfully treated. Kudos. Now, oh, I forgot to tell you," Adrian said stiffly, suddenly tucking his right arm in close to his body and supporting it with his left. "I think...I may have busted my arm when I fell."
And so Clint watched, learned, and participated in the handling of a broken arm. Gently prying the arm away from where it was protectively curled to Adrian's chest, he helped the man remove his shirt without jostling the appendage. He took instruction well, feeling for the fictional break, learning how to apply a splint and tie a sling with ease. Once the arm was dealt with, Adrian suddenly claimed to be dizzy and woozy, having struck his head in the incident. Jeff proceeded to walk the greenie through the basic diagnostics and treatment options for a concussion. At the end of it all, ankle wrapped, arm splinted and in a sling, head swathed in bandages, Adrian couldn't be more pleased with the pair of them.
"Well done, both of you. You've got good hands for this kind of work, Clint." Adrian said, acknowledging the boy with a tilt of the head before turning his attention back to Jeff. "Now that you've treated the initial physical aspect of the injury, Jeff here is going to talk to you about medicinal pain management applied after treatment, while I get out of all of these damn wrappings."
Despite looking nothing alike, Jeff and Clint grinned identical grins, stepping over to the neatly stacked boxes of medical supplies so that the med jack could show the greenie some of their various medicinal options for pain. It took the man nearly twenty minutes to extract himself from the miles of gauze bound around him, but eventually he managed. Still shirtless, he remained seated on the table and waited until the boys seemed to be winding down.
There was just one last thing he wanted to test them on. He slid his knife out of his belt sheath stealthily, taking a deep breath.
"Hey guys? There's just one more thing I'm going to need you to treat."
As the boys turned around expectantly Adrian draw the knife across his lower abdomen in one quick jerk, leaving a six inch gash that instantly began pouring blood. Adrian had taken great care to perfectly control the pressure; the cut was no more than half an inch deep, and well away from anything vital. Absolutely not life threatening, but certainly in need of immediate care.
Even as Jeff stood frozen in shock, Clint leapt forward, slapping both hands against the wound to apply pressure and swearing enthusiastically.
"Shucking hell! Jesus! God damn it! Why would you do that?! Jeff! We have to stop the bleeding!"
Jeff was staring blankly as if in a trance, horrified. Clint snarled at him, snapping him out of it.
"Jeff! For shuck sake, get over here and help me!"
Jeff was jolted into action by the harsh demand, hurrying to grab a jar of antiseptic and a clean bundle of bandages. Crimson rivulets cascaded over Clint's fingers, already staining the waist of Adrian's pants. Clint was muttering platitudes under his breath, the words too hurried and worried to be soothing.
"It's alright. It'll be alright. You'll be fine. We'll get you fixed up. Just a scratch, you'll be alright."
When Adrian's torso started to tremble under his steady hands Jeff quickly looked up, fearing the man may faint from the loss of blood.
Inconceivably, the shakes were a direct result of delighted laughter being held at bay. Eyes shining with pride and approval, Adrian got himself under control and brought a hand up to pat Clint's tense shoulder in a congratulatory fashion.
"I'd say you passed today trials with flying colors, Clint. Exceptional, all around. Now, how's your needlework?"
Adrian felt good, absolutely fantastic when he joined the dinner crowd. His girls were ready to get to work, and Clint was a healer down to the bone. With some training, he'd be an excellent med-jack, and after his magnificent performance that afternoon, Adrian fully intended to urge Jeff to claim the greenie at the next council meeting. Plopping down beside Newt, he grinned his way through the meal. His cheshire cat didn't go unnoticed, either.
"What're you so damn smug about?" Minho demanded sarcastically, "Did'ya find a tree with a knot hole and name it Betty?"
"Oh I found Betty, alright, but she didn't want anything to do with me. 'Said you'd already tired her out."
Everyone laughed uproariously at that image, Minho included, shaking his head in appreciation of the quick wit.
"Really though, Ad – Adrian. You look like the mouse that got the cheese. Spill, would you? We'd...what the bloody hell did you get into this time?" Newt suddenly demanded, spotting the blood on Adrian's pants where his shirt had shifted. The man spread his hands wide in a placating gesture.
"Just a scratch, that's all. I swear. No harm, no foul, and nothing to worry about. Honest."
Newt eyed him suspiciously, sorely tempted to nag at the man until he filled in the gaps. Before he could get another word in, however, Alby wandered by the table, nodding at the occupants cordially.
"'Lo guys. How's it goin'? Mind if I steal Adrian away for a while?"
Saved by the leader, Adrian thought as he excused himself and followed after the dark skinned boy. They walked over to the far side of the area, finding a little privacy by one of the supply huts.
"What's up, Alby?"
"I just wanted to talk to you about the finishing details for the outhouse, maintenance, that kind of thing. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important."
"Nah, not at all." Adrian said with relief. "Fire away."
They stood and discussed nuts and bolts for ten or fifteen minutes, until all of Alby's current questions and concerns had been fully dealt with. The leader was just about to head off to deal with something else when the man held a hand out, detaining him.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something as well. D'you have time?"
"Yeah, sure. What's on your mind?" Alby asked, curiously. Adrian glanced around subtly, making sure that no one else was close enough to eavesdrop and dropping his voice to a low murmur.
"I've been working on a little...side project, that I think is going to really benefit everyone here. Something that is going to support the edict you made after the 'incident'; a carrot of the stick, if you will. And it's finally ready."
"What the shuck are you talking about?" Alby hissed angrily. "What have you done?!"
"Nothing like what you're thinking, I swear." Adrian assured. "As a matter of fact, I really believe the guys are going to be absolutely thrilled when I show them what I've managed to put together."
His instant flash of anger eased; Adrian's tone oozed sincerity. Curiosity piqued, he narrowed his eyes and tried to puzzle out exactly what the man could be up to. Adrian snickered, waving him off.
"Forget it, I'm not telling you. But I will show you."
"Now?"
"Hell no." Adrian snorted at the thought. "Tomorrow night, just after dark. Round up half the gladers and meet me in the clearing in the woods, closest to the south wall. Don't tell them what's going on, just that there's something they need to see. And don't tell the rest of the guys. Yet."
"Listen, shank." Alby said, irritated, "I don't know why you think you can-"
"Just try to trust me, okay?" Adrian asked "There's a method to my madness. You'll see, tomorrow night." Not waiting for a reply, he hurried off; with the time and place set, there were a number of last minute things to attend to. He stopped briefly at the table where 'his girls' were sitting, giving them their marching orders.
"Meet me at my place tomorrow, right before dinner. Grab a walking meal to scarf of the way, 'cause we won't have time for anything else."
"What's going on?" Brandon asked, though all three hoped that they already knew the answer.
"We're on. Tomorrow night, we get this ball rolling." Adrian confirmed.
Author's note~
Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa
Something else, or nothing at all
May the rest of this year be good to you and yours
And may 2019 be a great year for all!
See you next chapter - and next year!
~Ruby