iii. Wᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ sᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏsᴇ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴs ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀs.
Thalia has been in the Glade six months the first time she falls sick. All the boys refuse to let her do any work, even when it's the only thing she wants to do. Instead, she's not permitted to leave her bed, other than times of absolute necessity, and the only company she gets is one of her friends who checks in on her every few hours. By the third day, they learned not to stay too long, as prolonged exposure led to her begging for a job or some other excuse to escape the confinements.
It was close to lunch time when Alby came to check up on her. He was the first one since Minho and Newt, who came in when she was half asleep earlier that morning. He placed a tray of food on her lap, and her thanks was cut short as she noticed the smile he wore.
"You're happy today," she blurted, gulping down some water from a cup. The leader just clapped her shoulder before he lifted himself from the makeshift bed. "Alby, wait!" She grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"No, Thalia," he rolled his eyes, already knowing the question.
"Please! C'mon, Alby, I'm going insane. I can work in the fields. Let me pick some fruit or something!" Thalia saw the hesitation behind his dark eyes and she took her chance. "Please?" she pouted.
He stayed quiet a moment longer before sighing. "Fine. I'll talk to Zart." Alby took a few steps, but stopped and turned before he had passed through the doorway. "And for the record, that face only works on Newt."
"Thanks, Alby!" she shouted after him, although her voice cracked half way through, dissolving into coughing.
Newt wandered through the fields, occasionally talking to some of the boys who had just returned from lunch. He carried a couple of buckets filled with water and was distributing the liquid to those that needed it. After doing his round, a familiar head of brunette hair caught his attention. He picked his way over, soon confronted by a soft humming.
The girl was prodding at the ground with some of the smaller gardening tools. He noticed she was smiling to herself as she did so. "Lia?" Newt asked, disturbing her concentration. He kneeled down, placing the bucket a fair distance away as not to knock it over. He looked her over quickly, making sure she was alright. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Alby knows I'm here, so don't you dare try anything," she warned, barely acknowledging his presence with a quick glance.
Newt's brow furrowed, mostly in disbelief. "Alby arranged this?" Thalia nodded, finally meeting his worried eyes. He continued when she didn't say any more. "How many times did you say please?"
The smile returned, bigger this time; she even giggled. "Twice." He grinned too.
"Only twice?"
"Yup." Thalia shrugged. "He was in a good mood."
He contemplated that for a minute, and in that time, she persisted in pulling at a deep-rooted weed. She stabbed at it a couple more times before it eventually gave way. However, when she pulled, the action was more forceful than necessary and the green blade flew out, splattering her with dirt. She frowned, dabbing at the mud on her face as Newt laughed at her misfortune. "Do you want some of this on you?" she questioned sourly.
"No, no, sorry," Newt said, attempting to quieten his laughter. He turned her chin towards him and began to wipe off the dirt from her cheeks. "Are you okay?" the blonde asked with a wide, teasing smile, still removing the mess with nimble fingers.
"Slinthead," Thalia mumbled, stomaching her nervousness. His hands fell back into his lap when he was done.
"What are you meant to be doing anyway?" She picked up the weed that had been out for vengeance and flung it behind her.
"Getting rid of these disgusting little things," she said, and then picked up a small box, containing numerous seeds, "and planting these instead."
Newt laughed at her word choice. "Do you need help?"
"What, so you can steal my glory?" she simpered. "If you help me, Alby will know, and I won't get to do anything else. Alby always knows."
"Good point…" he said, trailing off with a smirk. "But I have the water."
One of her eyebrows rose at the challenge. "Give me the water."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Thalia changed her tactic again. She stuck out her bottom lip and stared at the boy with wide eyes. "Please, Newt?" When he shook his head, she shuffled forward. "Please?" He crossed his arms and looked away. She took the chance to see how far it was to the water; she would have to make it past him to get to the bucket. Thalia copied his stance; crossed her arms and gave a defeated sigh. As his lips curved, she jumped for the bucket. She managed to skim her fingers over the cool metal before his arms were wrapped around her torso and she was getting hauled back. She made a desperate attempt to claw at the ground but her limbs immediately snapped home as he began to tickle her. "Newt!" she yelped, dissolving into laughter as his fingers roamed wild. "Newt, Newt, stop," Thalia tried again, "Give me the water, klunkhead!"
Fairly quickly, she started coughing and he pulled her upright. "Are you okay?" he immediately prodded, his chuckling long gone, instead replaced with wide, fretful eyes.
"I'm telling Alby you tried to kill me over some water," Thalia replied, though she was smiling. "So, can I have the bucket now?"
Newt shrugged, his expression completely innocent. "I don't know. Can you?"
Thalia groaned. If the Grievers didn't kill her first, then the infuriating second-in-command would.
She had passed on dinner, tired after her earlier expedition. Eventually, Newt had cooperated and they were able to plant the seeds. Unfortunately, now she was hungry, and it was way past dinner time. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, Thalia decided to try her luck. She left the homestead and slipped into the night.
So far, so good. The Gladers she passed were all asleep, so none had tried to stop her in the middle of her quest. She had been successful in making it to the kitchen. Well, she was until Newt interrupted.
"What the shuck, Lia?" he hissed. She looked over her shoulder.
"I'm hungry."
He shook his head exasperatedly. "Why didn't you have something earlier?"
"Wasn't hungry then," she rolled her eyes.
"You're not allowed in here," Newt tried again, still in a hushed tone.
She gave a faint smile. "The faster I get something, the faster I'm out. So shut your mouth and help me." She traipsed up to him, grabbed his hand, and then led him to where she had previously been. Thalia ignored his groan and began to rummage through the supplies, looking for something that tickled her fancy.
Even in her muddled state, Thalia could recognise authority. So when Alby spoke, her blood ran cold. He may have been her friend, but he had created the rules of the Glade.
"What are you doing?" Alby asked. Immediately, her eyes found Newt's, and she almost laughed at his expression. They turned around simultaneously.
"It's on me, Alby," Newt said first.
Thalia nodded hastily. "Yeah, it's all him."
Both boys looked at her and she smirked. "What? I'm sick. This can't be my fault." Alby sighed and ran a hand across the back of his head. She knew she had him. "He deserves the slammer. I can take him," she offered, giving Newt a sly glance. She stepped forward and opened her palm, waiting for the keys.
"Thalia!" Newt huffed. Alby chuckled but nevertheless passed over the keys.
"You did say it was your fault," he consoled. Then, he left, leaving them alone.
"I can't believe you did that," Newt said. She shrugged and mockingly linked her arm with his and started for the slammer.
"You can't be serious," he tried again, seeing where they were headed.
"I told Alby I would." Thalia smiled mischievously.
After the silent walk, the chains on the prison cell were eerie in the darkness. Of course, they'd plucked a torch on their way over, but it was still shadowy. The brunette opened the slammer's doors and flung an arm out, gesturing.
"Get in."
"I covered for you, Lia!" Newt argued. He was mostly trying to fight a smile at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"And this is the consequence!" Thalia countered with a lift of her shoulders. She sighed loudly when he did not obey. "We're getting nowhere."
Newt didn't object to the observation. They continued to glare intently at each other for a full minute, until she sat down in defeat. Thalia looked up at the stubborn boy and rolled her eyes, patting the grass beside her. He complied wordlessly. Deciding that she couldn't be bothered going back to the homestead for the night, she unwrapped her blanket and laid it across their laps. As she was doing this, she missed the way his expression finally eased into one of humour; a small smile tugged at his lips. When she was satisfied, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and in turn he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
Eventually, Newt spoke up, his tone a definitive contrast to the atmosphere. "Did you grow four sizes since this afternoon?" He plucked something from her pocket. It was an apple. "How did you…— Oh, never mind," he shook off his disbelief before taking a bite.
"Hey, that's mine," Thalia protested.
"Not anymore," he grinned. "Besides, you still feel a little heavy. I'm sure you'll find something else."
AN: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Lee because she made me some gifs for the story! They're pretty sweet. Find them here (add the . and remove the spaces):
postimg dot org /gallery/9y0cfea8/
Thalia's personality is a little sporadic in this part since she's sick. I hope I did that justice. The chapter (or really just the last scene) is a little iffy to me but again, I hope it's enjoyable.
Thanks to everyone who reads, comments or votes!