By the time you return to help, you're greeted with heart-wrenching, tortured screams and shrieks. The stench of vomit stings your nose and you find it covering Thomas along with the floor below him. You find Newt feverishly wiping it off Thomas' body with a filthy rag. Blueish-green veins web and pulse under Thomas' paper white skin. Within the few hours you've been gone, hives and rashes have erupted across him in angry red splotches.
You grab a rag and help mop up the frothy vomit, almost feeling as if you might throw up as well with the sight and smell paired together.
Thomas gags, his face growing even more impossibly green as his bloodshot eyes bulge. You both step back as he wretches again, undoing your work.
"How long has he been like this?" you ask, starting to wipe it away once again.
"Started about an hour after you left," Newt murmurs, his eyes glazed over with dark bags underneath.
"Have you been taking care of him all this time?"
He nods, hardly even paying you any attention.
You put your hand on his shoulder. "Take a break, I can take it from here. You need one."
He gives you a small, half smile before he staggers out of the room. You just hope he rests instead of pushing on in an attempt to help and organize the other Gladers.
YOU ARE READING
The Cost of the Cure
FanfictionOne day, you wake up with no memories. You know two things: your name and the fact that you are terrified. You find yourself in a strange place called the Glade. Even though no one else remembers anything at all, you find it harder than ever to brea...
