The Everlasting Maze || Dnf || Book Two

10

"George," a whisper shakes George from his slumber.

Blearily, George looks up at Ant, who looms with surprising gentleness. He grumbles, sitting up as he yawns. Ant hands him the morning's breakfast and gets to work on changing bandages.

The Medic peels the cloth off Punz's forehead gently. At the movement, Punz shoots up, wide awake. He shouts in pain, letting Ant ease him back down. After muttering a string of curses, Punz looks at Dream, face softening in relief. "Is he alright?"

"Worry about yourself for now, Punz," Ant murmurs, handing a plate of food to Punz. "But, yes, Dream is alright. He's going to make it."

The Runner takes the food, muttering, "Thank fuck. I would've hated to bury him."

Ant huffs, setting a small container next to Punz. "I can't force you to stay, but I encourage it. This salve will help with your bruises. And be careful with your ankle. I've leaned a set of crutches against the wall for you to use, but you have George to thank for the bandaging on your ankle."

Punz nods, looking over at George. Sincerely, he says, "Thank you, George, for that," He studies his ankle for a moment before adding, "You're becoming a fine Medic."

George mutters his thanks, watching as Ant goes over a few more health and safety precautions with Punz. After a minute, Ant leaves, and all that's heard is the scraping of utensils on plates and the slow awakening of the Glade around them.

Once Punz is done eating, he attempts to stand. George rushes to him. "Woah, woah, Punz, you're in no shape to exert so much energy."

Punz huffs, jerking his chin at Dream. "He's much worse than I am, I can handle myself."

George sighs and assists Punz as he stands, taking the crutches under his arms. As he walks out with a thank you thrown in George's direction, Sapnap meets the Runner cheerfully. The two jump into conversation easily, and Sapnap takes him over the events that have happened in the past day, mentioning the dead Reaper in the Glade to reporting on the status of the Gladers.

As they walk away, George sits back down at Dream's side. His eyes wander around the room, observing the long-been-dead candle, of which's wax has melted to its stump to the burn marks on the metal handle. He studies the pile of bandages, much smaller than what it used to be. Finally, his eyes land on the cloth that covers Dream's leg.

Hesitantly, he lifts the corner of the cotton, queasiness overtaking his stomach as he takes in the sewn together skin. Ant did a good job, his work flawless. It makes George wonder how many times the Medic has had to save a Glader's life, just like he did with Dream's.

George studies Dream's face for the hundredth time since the incident in the Maze. His eyes drag over the curve of Dream's lips, and he catches himself wondering what they feel like. Slowly, his hand lifts and two fingers brush over Dream's lips, lingering.

The presence of someone in the doorway causes George to snatch his hand back, eyes wide as he looks at the young Glader. "What are you doing here, Squirrel? You're not allowed here until Dream has recovered."

Squirrel's eyes, analytical like a hawk, study him for a moment that makes George shift under his stare. Squirrel shrugs and walks over, sitting across from George by Dream's side. "I just wanted to ask him a question."

"Well," George's eyes narrow, "as you can see, he's a little unconscious right now."

Squirrel pokes Dream's chest, expecting a response. Amused, George says, "That's not going to wake him up."

"Have you seen the Reaper yet?" Squirrel asks, eyes bright. "It's awesome."

"I don't know if that's the right word for it," George mumbles, "but, no, I haven't seen it yet."