The Inventor

Chapter Sixty Two; "You were a hypocrite and a poser, but you loved him"

The fact that they came in to tell you to go to bed took you aback. Even in the glade, you never listened to the mandated 'bedtime' because you had inventions to make. But they turned off the lights and everyone crawled into their bunks like one big happy family.

You clambered up to your bunk, Newt taking the bottom, beside you, not even a foot away, Minho was forced to take the top. Frypan laid beneath him.

With a sigh of relief, you release your leg from the brace, putting it at the foot of your bed and draping a blanket over your legs. You stayed sitting up, eyes adjusting to the pitch black, there were whispers for a few minutes but they died off, snoring taking their place. People passed out in minutes, it baffled you in the glade but came to the conclusion that all of them could sleep absolutely anywhere and they wouldn't care.

You stayed awake, fidgeting with the fanny back Chuck had, once everyone was asleep you opened it with tired eyes.

Your stomach dropped when you pulled out the invention you had made him, still intact, just a little dirty. He had cared enough to bring it, and thought to signal for you to take it. Your lip quivered, pressing your palm to them to stop it.

You dared to open it, see the lights it sent out, and surprisingly, a message.

"You know I'll always protect you, right?" You heard your own words repeated to you, exactly what you said to him after giving him this.

"I know," Chuck responded, you could almost hear the smile in his voice, "You'll always be there, and I'll always be here when you have a klunk day too."

You heard yourself laugh, "Right on little man."

It cut off there, and you felt the ball fall from your hands, closing with a snap when it landed on the mattress. Your hand clamped over your mouth, shaking with the effort of holding in a sob, or maybe even a scream.

You didn't even know he recorded it and he had no clue that you would fail. He had trusted you, and you let him die. What kind of family does that?

You bite into your lip, covering your eyes with your sleeve to dry the pools of grief. Then, after a few moments, you took a trembling breath and opened the ball again with shaky hands.

You heard it again, despising the message but not being able to put the ball back in the pack. That was Chuck's voice, he was happy, and you had made him happy. That kid practically saved your life.

If you hadn't found him in the forest and felt for him enough to keep him safe you would have been over the edge of addiction, wasting yourself away with a bottle every night just to numb your head just like your leg was. Sure, you were never the best person, would rather face problems with booze and complaining with Gally then seeking help, but you tried to be better when he was around. You didn't want him to see that and think it was the way to deal with problems.

You were a hypocrite and a poser, but you loved him, and you shielded him as best you could.

That was until he died, you couldn't shield him from that.

"Is that Chuck?" You heard someone mumble sleepily.

You looked to your right, seeing Minho looking up at you with squinting eyes.

"It's a recording," You said, "Chuck saved it when I didn't expect it."

You played it again and Minho listened, waking up a little more.

"Can I?" He asked, sitting up and signaling if he could climb over to your bunk.

You nodded, watching him nearly fall to the ground trying but made it. He laid on his stomach, groggy and half asleep but caring enough to come and check what was going on.

You continued to replay it over and over again, some twisted form of phycological torture for yourself. Minho eventually closed it and put it back in one of your bags.

He yawned, rubbing his eyes and said, "Look shank, I don't know nothing about what you felt for Chuck but you can't keep-" He yawned again, "-playing that recording, it's cruel to yourself. And me, the lights are blinding."

You didn't speak, just laid down more and nodded to him.

He looked ready to drift off, his blanket still twisted around himself. He tossed and turned a lot in his sleep, you picked that up from- well- being in the same bed as him.

"You can fall asleep here," You muttered lying down on your stomach, "I don't care."

"You sure?" He asked, already resting his head on your shoulder blade, probably not even noticing. Surprisingly, you didn't mind, his weight comforted you in an awkward way.

"Nope," You said, hugging your pillow closer.

He didn't respond.

"Hey Minho?" You asked, nothing, he was already dead asleep.

You smiled, now having a human heater. One arm was draped along your waist, half of his body on top of yours. It- put you at ease.

"Night," You mumbled, dozing off into a restless sleep.