This Conspiracy

Chapter 6

Author stuff: Thank you everyone for the love and support so far. Really, every little thing warms my ice-cold heart.

Anyway, work trials begin this chapter! Yay!

TRIGGER WARNING for this chapter. There is vomiting in the first paragraph. I'll try to post the tws at the top. If I miss one, please let me know so I can fix it. I do take these things seriously. I know what it's like to be randomly triggered when you're not expecting, and I want to keep anyone else from going through the same thing.

So, please, if you are ever triggered, let me know. I will not be offended in any way, shape, or form. Anonymous comments are turned on on ff.net, ao3, and tumblr. Just a quick: "Hey, there was this trigger warning in X chapter."

Chapter 6

In Which Their Lives In The Glade Truly Begin

Archie regretted every drink he'd had the night before the moment he woke up – which was unreasonably early, as the sun wasn't even peeking over the Walls quite yet. His stomach churned, and he lurched out of his hammock, rushing to the treeline to empty it. He heaved grotesquely onto a bush.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he straightened up and started back to his hammock. He stopped upon seeing Nick, Flossy, and Graham. Nick's shoulders jerked up and down as he held in his laughter. Flossy tried to hide her amusement behind a cough. And Graham... Graham looked just as amused as he always did – which is to say, not at all. He looked as moveable as any of the Maze walls. Besides the doors, of course.

"Feel better?" Nick said quietly, grinning at him.

"I feel worse," he said, rubbing his throat.

"Come on then. Clint might have something for your headache. You're just going to have to drink lots of water today is all. I have a feeling a lot of these slintheads will share your pain when they wake up."

They went to the Homestead and took a sharp left into what Archie could guess was for the Med-jacks. There were a few low-rising cots – all unoccupied, which wasn't a bad sign – and some tables and cabinets. Nick drew a set of keys out of his pockets and flipped through them before finding the right one.

"Clint and I are the only ones with keys to this cabinet," he said, "so don't try breaking in or stealing anything."

Nick opened up the cabinet to reveal a vast array of medical products, all organized by what they did and what they were. Nick plucked out a bottle and twisted off the cap with ease, handing Archie two white tablets.

There was a word on the bottles – the one, Archie realized, that had been on the containers that had come up with him and the others – that he couldn't quite make out. Or his brain, rather, couldn't seem to decipher. He shrugged it off as his head was thumping painfully against his skull.

He took the tablets dry, not waiting for the water – which Nick held out to him after he'd already swallowed the pills. The older boy looked mildly impressed. Still, Archie chugged the water. It sloshed coldly in his stomach.

"Right then," Nick said, "this way."

They headed outside to the North Wall. The Glade was still mostly asleep. Only a few people – the Runners, Frypan, and a handful of others – were awake.

"This is Glader tradition," Nick said as they walked over. "We started doing it because we didn't want to forget. We didn't want to forget our names, and we didn't want to forget everyone we lost."

Nick stopped in front of the Wall, looking it up and down. There were names carved into the side, as if it was made of a soft stone rather than concrete. Some were scratched out but still legible. Some were large and some were small. Each one was as unique as the Glader who'd made their mark.