TMR Imagines and Preferences

You Get Sick- Newt

On a quiet morning, you woke up to a cool breeze and the smell of wildflowers. It would have been a beautiful day, though the reason you had woken up put a stain on the serenity. You were gasping, could not breathe through your nostrils, had an extremely high fever, and your whole body was sore enough to have run a marathon the day before. Newt was still fast asleep next to you as you jumped up, trying to get a single breath of air into your lungs. Even though you hated to admit it, you were sick beyond measure. When you could finally breathe again, your throat started to burn from the stress. You got up and left Newt in your hammock while you walked to the kitchen, desperate for a drink. The glade was still dark, and the only light came from torches and small whispers of the sunrise to come. After getting a drink, you went back to your hammock and collapsed next to Newt, who was blissfully unaware of your pain.

It seemed like only seconds had passed when Newt shook you awake, and the light of day scorched your eyes. "Y/N! Come on, it's time for breakfast. Everyone else has already woken up!" He was eager to eat the pancakes that Frypan had promised, so you pulled yourself up from the hammock. Not meeting Newt's eyes, you pulled on an extra shirt and a pair of pants, now colder than ice. Newt threw his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked to the kitchen, and you walked as close as possible, trying to get a hint of body heat to warm your chilled fingers. In the kitchen, you sat down next to Chuck and Minho, and Newt sat across from you. All of the boys scooped seconds and thirds of pancakes onto their plates, but you struggled to finish even the first. Every once in a while, Newt glanced at you with concern, but you did not notice due to your staring contest with the syrup pooling on your plate. He had grown accustomed to your period schedule, and knew that it wouldn't happen for another two weeks. With this knowledge, he was worried, because you never turned away food like this before. When breakfast was over, you trudged to the medjack hut with a throbbing headache and runny nose. You had left Newt behind to talk to the other gladers, but he jogged to catch up with you. "Y/N, darling, are you alright? You hardly ate any breakfast this morning," he said as he ran one hand up and down your right arm. With a forced smile, you looked up and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess I just wasn't feeling up to it this morning. I had better let some other boys have a shot at the record every once in a while," you joked, although there was strain in your voice. Newt did not notice, but perked up immediately. "OK! I'll see you later sweetheart." Newt pecked your lips, and then embraced you in a bear hug before running off to the gardens. Throughout the day, you work slow, and when you skip lunch, Jeff takes a check of your symptoms. He says that you might have a bad case of the flu, and gives you some medicine from a dark brown bottle. After that, you are given the rest of the day off, and Jeff tells you that if necessary, you can have the next couple of days off as well. "I'll let you know if I need them, Jeff. Thanks for the medicine," you say, walking away from the hut and trying to decide where you would hide from Newt. He was extremely over protective, and if he found out that you were sick, he would refuse to do anything but take care of you. You loved when he was overprotective, but there was still a part of you that hated attention, especially in front of large groups of people. You decide on the lookout tower, and grab some tissues, two blankets, and a water bottle before climbing up. With each step, your legs ache and your head spins. You come close to falling off more than a couple of times, but when you finally reach the top, the wind cools the sweat from your forehead. By now, the fever has come back, and you spread out on a blanket, stripping until you are in only your underwear and one of Newt's large shirts. In the next couple of hours, you go through an entire box of tissues, and switch between burning up and freezing cold. The glade eventually begins to darken, so you climb down, hoping to be able to snag a few crackers from the kitchen. Newt finds you before you can sneak off again, and he insists that you come to the bonfire that night. Reluctantly, you follow him to the fire, and with a shaking hand you take a jar of Gally's mixture. Newt has picked a spot facing the fire already, and pats the ground next to him with an eager smile. You force one to match, and then plop down with a dozen winces to follow. The boys sing, play truth or dare, and fill up on Gally's mixture, and with the haziness going through your mind, the night passes quickly. Every time Newt asks you something, you nod, and laugh every once in a while to convince him that you are fine. The fire burns out and when only embers are left the gladers all get up and retreat to their beds. You and Newt are the last two left when the night chill sets in. "Love, are you ready to go to bed? It's getting pretty cold out here, and we have to work tomorrow." Snapping out of the daze you had put yourself into, you reply. "Oh, you can go ahead. I'm just going to stay here for a little while longer. I have some things I would like to think about, and the breeze feels good." It wasn't very convincing, but with a miracle it worked. Newt kissed the top of your head, and walked away, leaving you alone to battle with the symptoms. You do not put up long, and soon you roll up into the fetal position, hugging your knees to your chest, and you fall into a restless slumber.

When you are woken up again, it is from the sheer cold drenching your body. Sighing, you get up and try to walk back to your hammock, but it takes evry ounce of strength just to stand. You make it to a tree before needing a break, and you place your hand against the trunk to regain balance. Then a figure made its way over to you. You made the figure out as Newt, wrapped in a large blanket. He looked like a child, wrapped up like he was, but before you could laugh you collapsed against the trunk and went into a coughing fit. Newt rushed the rest of the way over to you and knelt down. "Y/N! What's wrong! What happened? Did someone hurt you?" His mouth let out a stream of questions that only clouded your mind and made your temples hurt. "Newt. Newt! Newt, I love you, but could you just shut up!" His mouth froze, and he stared at you with wide eyes. "It's just the bloody flu, Jeff gave me some medicine but it's probably worn off by now. Newt I," you tried to finish but instead burst into tears. "It's so bad. I can breathe, and when I do, it stings like hell. My whole body is shucking sore and my nose doesn't stop running! I feel like clunk and I just didn't want to put a burden on you." You thought Newt would give a long speech, but he silently removed the blanket from his shoulders and knelt in only his boxer briefs and bare feet. "Come here love," he said, and when you leaned closer he wrapped the blanket around your shoulders and wrapped it tightly. His near-naked body was stark white in the black murkiness, and his breath let out small puffs into the midnight air. "Mmm, I love you so much. Let's go back." You nodded slowly, and grasped his outstretched hand to stand up. Newt put an arm around your waist and held your hand with the other. Slowly, you made your way to your hammock, but not before Newt began shiver violently. He refused your offer for the blanket over and over again, and eventually you gave up. Finally, you could fall into your hammock and you tried your best not to look pitiful to Newt's eyes that still flew over your body. "Newt, please. Don't make me feel any worse than I already do. I'm sorry that I got sick." With this, he chuckled, and then scratched his head. "What?" "It's just funny, and a bit ridiculous. That you think this is an inconvenience, or that I am judging you because you are human." He stopped at that, and you could not help but stare at him, lit up by the soft glow of torches, almost completely naked and looking a bit ridiculous. Finally laughing after a clunk of a day, you commanded him "Newt, come here, or I'll laugh harder and my throat really hurts." When he lowered himself down you wrapped your arms around his thin frame and held tight. Silently he followed your actions and his hands wrapped themselves in your hair. "What did you think was so funny Y/N?" he asked. "I'm not sure exactly. You were just standing there in your underwear and looking kinda pitiful, and I had a sudden urge to hug you really hard. I mean, I wanted to kiss you even more, but I don't want to get you sick." Newt adjusted the blanket so that it covered the both of you, and his body pressed tight against yours. "This my shirt?" You nodded, and then were taken aback when his lips, smirking, met yours. He kissed you softly at first, and then with more need, more desperation. When you heard another glader near you mumble in their sleep, you pulled the blanket farther up to cover your heads. "You know, Y/N, you being sick couldn't keep me away from your kisses. And you are bloody beautiful in my clothes."