chapter vi

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To say Tiago was struggling to stay awake was an understatement. The dehydration was getting to everyone, but with his leg throbbing and the lack of food in his system, he was having a harder time. When he and Newt had finally made it up the stairs, the other three boys dragged a terribly damaged mattress from one of the two bedrooms into the living room. Tiago collapsed onto it gratefully, but he only managed to roll off his bad leg before his eyes had closed. The others had struggled to wake him back up, but as soon as his eyes were open again, Newt settled on the floor beside the mattress and rested a hand on his shoulder. Every time Tiago's eyes would start to close, Newt would squeeze his shoulder harshly, making him let out a groan and blink himself back awake.

They had conversed for a while, mainly to keep Tiago awake, and it had worked for about forty-five minutes before they ran out of things to talk about. Tiago could barely speak, his throat dry and scratchy, and the four other boys only had so many memories from their dreadful past. The conversation dwindled quickly.

"How long has it been?" Tiago asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt Newt shift slightly, adjusting himself to sit more comfortably.

"Nearly an hour," Newt said back, just as quiet.

Tiago frowned. "Should be back by now. 's been too long."

"Stop talking," Newt muttered, noting the slur in Tiago's voice. "You'll wear yourself out quicker."

"I'm worried," Tiago protested, his voice rising slightly in pitch.

"We all are, but leaving is only going to get us lost," Newt said firmly, authoritatively. "Jorge knows we're here, they shouldn't be too long now."

Tiago opened his mouth to argue, but he cut himself off with a hiss of pain. He'd moved his leg a little too much. He groaned loudly. Newt shushed him lightly, moving the hand on his shoulder into his hair and scratching at his scalp. It felt strange at first, almost familiar, but in his dazed mind Tiago couldn't remember why. Instead, he felt himself relax as Newt's hand moved cautiously through his hair. Newt had a curious look on his face. He'd never soothed someone with touch before, and when he felt the tension bleed from Tiago's muscles, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself. When Tiago's eyes started to fall shut, Newt tugged lightly on his hair. Tiago let out a hum of acknowledgement, letting Newt know he wasn't unconscious, so Newt continued his light ministrations with the older boy's hair.

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"You can't do anything right, can you?!"

"No, I can do it better, Daddy, I promise!"

"You're just like your mother; absolutely fucking useless!"

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