{Interrupit - stop the continuous progress of (an activity or process).}
newt's pov:
The majority of my day was spent looking for Dion, or any trace of him around the camp. We came up empty handed, yet again, and so I spent the remainder of my Thursday, helping Bren move back to her room from the infirmary.
Lincoln, unsurprisingly, was in there with us, helping Vince and the other patients take their medication and empty their bed pans.
While his presence still slightly bothered me, I barely even noticed he was there. His eye was still rather bruised and bloodshot, but other than that his injuries had almost completely healed.
He had kept to himself a lot since the night Bren went into labour, and as the pair still don't know of his involvement, I'm sure now he's just nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I desperately wanted to tell Tommy about it - I'm constantly debating whether or not I should reveal the information to him, and watch as he rips Lincoln in half. But I know it would only be for my own selfish reasons, and it would only create more hurt for them, so I never do.
Bren, regardless of all of this happening, was quite excited to head back home. "It's going to be great sleeping in my own bed again. I don't really like spending time here, anymore."
Thomas kept his hand on his girlfriend's back. "That's fair enough, B. We don't have to come back here if you don't want to."
The man's face was gaunt, pale and fatigued. I was sure he hadn't been sleeping, and hoped that maybe Bren moving back into their room would change that.
Vince was laying down in his bed, dozing and rocking slowly from side to side. Lincoln had told us earlier that Vince had started to decline further, and that at this point, he didn't expect him to live beyond a few weeks. He has absolutely no appetite at all, and even refuses to drink water, which explains why the colour in his skin is gone, and the fat around his bones have disappeared.
At first, before seeing him, I refused to believe the man - he's a liar, after all, but mostly I think I just didn't want to accept it. I thought he had been doing well recently, so I scoffed at the man and pushed past him, ready to see Vince.
The moment I saw him I knew he was dying. I had to look away, focus on the others.
B was packing her belongings away into a bag, as Thomas removed the sheets from the bed to give to Lincoln.
Everything was almost packed up and ready to go. Bren turns to me and smiles. "I assume y/n is out looking for Dion right now?"
I nod. "You assume correctly. Her, Amos and the others split into search parties hours ago." I say, shrugging. "I'm surprised they're not back yet."
She sighs, taking the bags from the bed and placing them on her back. Thomas was right there to steady her.
"Do you think something awful happened to him?" She asks.
I answer truthfully. "I don't know."
The three of us were walking out the door, carrying Brenda's belongings over the threshold, and out into the fresh air. The moment was very pleasant, for once.
Until, a bellow erupts from behind the doors we had just walked through.
I looked back at Bren, and Thomas, both with the facial expression of shock and confusion. Tom begins to place the bags down on the ground.
"Don't. Go back to your room, and stay there."
He tries to protest, but I ignore his confused questioning and irritated comments and walk back into the infirmary.
