The Inventor

Chapter Thirty One; "I've got your back"

     Newt, loving Newt, came by in the morning although he insisted he wouldn't and dropped you off food. He made sure you had showered, had pain killers for the headache and helped you clean up. It was much less fun going on with your day being hungover and sober then it was when you were drunk.

     But you did. Frequently after a new watch tower had been made Gally and yourself claimed it, making it your spot to sit in and get drunk when hard days came. They did often, coming in waves between the periods of time where you would jump at the spark of motivation for new projects. Most tended to die off and you were drained from whatever dopamine you had.

     You hadn't opened your curtains in a tremendous long time because light didn't bode well when you were hungover.

     And life went on like that for months, your living space being upgraded when your projects started to better benefit the glade but you stayed the same in the stubborn old dreary room. Now you moved yourself to a small workshop built underground, a thank you from the builders and a decision made after the council saw how unbeneficial it was to constantly be bugged above. You helped design it yourself, making a large space in the wall where your bed sat raised above the ground, around that you had tables lining the wall and one in the middle already cluttered with items. Shelves took up space above, a small cupboard shoved in the corner. A workshop, a bunker and as Newt called it, your hermit hole. Considering he had to force you to come up with a system so he could communicate with you while he was above ground and it was a chore to get you out to do anything he thought the name fit.

     You were just busy, busy ignoring him so that you could have your peace a little longer.

     And Minho, well, radio silence. Neither of you spoke unless it was harsh jabs over a meeting table. You wanted nothing to do with him and he returned that feeling in full, leaning into your hatred with every remark he made. The one thing that neither of you ever agreed upon but was a given, is that Newt wouldn't be torn apart in the middle. What was between the two of you was strictly the two of you, Newt knew better than to get in the way of it and no one wanted to force him to choose sides. He could be friends to both of you, no grudges held, as it should be.

     It had been quite a long time now since the accident, the glade had regained its normalcy and you fell into the rhythm of your new ratchet schedule. You had given up on the fact of bouncing back, knowing it wouldn't be possible.

     Due to Alby's commands you had forced yourself out of your bunker and dropped off a few boxes of newly upgraded griever callers to the secret weapons room. He very smartly instructed you to do this around the time that the runners would be coming back so that if you didn't do it then, you would have Minho to deal with.

     You grumbled on your way back, not trying to be stealthy at all, as if it would be doable with a big metal boot.

     You stopped though when your ears somehow managed to catch the small cries and whimpers coming from somewhere through the tree's. You were only about halfway back to the glade, too far for anyone to go out of their way on a work day to walk to.

     You looked through the trees in the direction of the glade, sighing to yourself when you turned away and to the sound of crying. You tried out that stealth thing now but knew anyone with half a mind would be able to hear you.

     The crying stopped abruptly and so did you. You assumed the guy could see you and knew he had been found but you couldn't see him.

     You cleared your throat, "Hey? Everything good out here?"