Chapter Text
I sighed deeply, the possibilities swirling in my mind were endless. Rebel groups, people who sought to ruin our newfound peace, or those who genuinely needed help. Each scenario felt as weighty as the next, pressing on my mind like a relentless storm.
The most pressing concern was the groups of travelers I'd noticed lurking a few miles north of our camp. Were they enemies, looking to sabotage our hard-earned peace, or were they desperate souls seeking refuge? I wished I had answers for everything, but I didn't, and that scared me.
Peace came with the persistent worry that someone would want to shatter it at any moment.
I spent hours analyzing the group's movements, their possible motivations, and their potential threat. Every detail mattered. They could be the key to a new alliance or the harbingers of doom. The uncertainty gnawed at me, a persistent ache that refused to be ignored even as the sun dipped under the horizon hours ago.
"Thomas?" A voice croaked from the bed. Brenda was propped up on her elbows, looking at me with a watchful gaze.
I swiveled my chair to face her, forcing a smile on my face. I needed to be strong for her—for all of them.
There was a possibility she could die. Tomorrow she could be gone, dead and unalive. Not breathing, not dancing, and not singing. Gone with the wind, never seen again.
"What are you thinking about?" Brenda whispered against the night, her hand reaching for a glass of water on her nightstand. "These days you've been doing a whole lotta—" She cut herself mid-sentence, her hand betraying her as the glass fell on the floor.
"Shit."
"Brenda, you should be resting." I tried masking my exhaustion, but my voice betrayed me.
"I have been resting for the last four days," she croaked, frustration lacing her tone.
"And you need to rest for four more," I retorted, moving to pick up the glass. "But knowing you, you probably won't listen."
"You know me so well yet not at all," she quipped, a lazy smirk playing on her lips. "If only you'd realized that sooner, we could've avoided a whole lotta fighting."
I sighed again, remembering our countless fights. At first, she had refused to even lie in bed, resting had been out of the question. It had taken days of coaxing and Jorge's help to get her to rest. And even then, she tried to do everything but that. I had tried reasoning, "Rest properly for two days, and you'll be discharged quickly," but Brenda loved making life difficult. Correction: she loved making my life difficult.
I couldn't blame her too much. She'd been raised to be strong and push through pain. Most people had to act like that to survive in this doomed world. But it meant she was stubborn about pushing herself past her limits. "I know what you can do and can't do, Brenda. You're amazing, strong, and can kill cranks like no one else I know—"
"Keep it coming, flattery will get you everywhere, Thomas." She winked for added measure.
"But it won't mean a thing if you're dead." My tone came out harsher than intended, but I hoped it might finally knock some sense into her.
The room was silent for a moment, and I dreaded that I misspoke. But Brenda isn't the type to be quiet for too long. "Sheesh, way to sour the mood. And here I thought you were trying your shot at being romantic, but obviously I was wrong."
I muttered, "Brenda, I am serious."
"And so am I." She replied. I raised an eyebrow at her. "For the most part," she added quickly.
I scoffed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, to which Brenda wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Has the ever-serious Thomas finally fallen for my charms?"
"He has not," I said, trying to maintain my stern expression, but her hurt look made me quickly add, "yet."
"I'll take what I can, I'm not greedy, you see." She attempted to sit up, struggling, and I was instantly by her side, helping her.
"Brenda, it's your choice at the end of the day, but not listening to the doctors is a poor choice."
"You know, back in the day—way before I met you—doctors were something only the rich could afford. And all of them worked for WCKD." She tucked a loose hair behind her ear. "Funny how I don't trust them much."
That was another mystery about Brenda—her past. She had a brother, someone I had promised she would reunite with, but beyond that, she was a closed book. She often left out details or shut down when things got too real for her. I was still piecing together her story, even after all this time.
She had once said that her past only weighed her down, that the only thing worth remembering was her brother and Jorge. I could only imagine that whatever she had been through, had been so bad that even years later it was like a fresh wound.
"I don't know what happened to you before, but these doctors care. They know what's best for you," I said, holding her hand, warming it between my palms. I hoped it gave her some comfort.
"I know, but it's hard still. It itches me to do nothing all day when there could be war coming our way tomorrow." For the first time that night, I could see Brenda open up a little. She had ignored me or fought with me most of these days, so seeing her be herself was refreshing.
"I care about you. We all do. Seeing you collapse like that scared me. It still scares me."
I gave her a warm smile, rubbing her hand gently before continuing, "You're not alone, we are all in this together. That means you can rest, and the world won't end."
Brenda gave me a reassuring smile. "I understand, I do. But it will take me some time."
"And you can take all the time you need, and then some," I said, my grip tightening on her. For a few seconds, a comfortable silence settled between us and I found myself gazing at our joined hands, a soft smile playing on my lips.
Brenda interrupted the silence, saying, "You're so corny. If I don't die of boredom, I sure will because of your corniness."
"Hey! You're always flirting with me, but you don't see me complaining." I quipped, a playful glint in my eye.
"My flirting happens to be top-notch, the best of the best. Definitely not corny, but definitely sexy and toe curling."
"Toe-curling?" I scoffed.
"Oh, yes. I'm just too afraid of breaking your innocent soul for such a level of heat. By now, all the flirting you've experienced are on the mild side," she said huskily.
Feeling mildly offended and somewhat bold, I abruptly closed the space between us, leaving only room for a mere few inches between our faces. With a hot breath and a hand on either side of her, I whispered, "Why don't you give me the full experience, then?"
And for the first time, I saw Brenda stunned. It was a thrilling experience, something I had never done, and I didn't understand why I hadn't. Watching Brenda avoid my gaze was both funny and cute. I had never thought that such a small action would cause such a reaction from the one who claimed to be wholly unbothered.
"Does it make you afraid that I might want that?" I whispered again, my breath fanning her face.
She still didn't meet my eyes, so I took the opportunity to study her closely. I had never been this close to her before. From this distance, I could make out the small, faint freckles around her nose and eyes. Her brown hair was a bit mousy, probably because she hadn't had the chance to shower yet. I wished she would look at me so I could see her eyes, but no matter how long I stared, her gaze remained fixed on the floor to the left.
Feeling awkward after several moments of silence, I began to back away, mentally chiding myself for being so stupid. I was never going to live this down.
"Uh, let's pretend that never happened," I said aloud, swinging my legs over the bed and promptly getting off. Yup, I had screwed up big time. Jorge would have my head tomorrow if Brenda told him. But something told me she wouldn't be boasting about this anytime soon.
"Goodnight, Brenda," I said, quickly leaving the room without looking back.
I finally understood why I hadn't tried something so risky with her. What was this feeling, shame? Was this why people would rather die than confess to their crush? But I hadn't even done that, I just acted on impulse. And it had felt good in the moment, thrilling while I watched her writhe. But the aftermath was not so good, not good at all.
Tonight had been a failure at best, and at worst? Well, I didn't even want to think about that.