Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)

Thirty-Nine: Quiet Riot

A/N: Omg I just listened to a song that's so freaking perfect for one of the plots I'm doing in the next book...

Yes apparently I specialise in teasers and daily updates now.

The next few hours passed relatively quickly. There was another room, adorned with all kinds of mismatched furniture, mainly couches and armchairs. Trace found a couch to curl up on, and despite her fear that the trauma would keep her awake, the second her head hit the arm rest, she was asleep. Genuinely, fast asleep.

She didn't even dream. She slept the deepest sleep she could ever remember sleeping. Nothing in the world could have woken her, but four hours later, her body had decided she'd had enough and woke her up all on its own.

It took a minute or two for her to register her surroundings. Everyone else was still asleep, except Minho, who was trying to talk to Angel. Trying being the key word, because, yes, everyone was asleep, Angel included. Minho was trying to talk to a sleeping person.

"She's asleep," Trace hissed from the other side of the room.

Minho jumped and put a hand on his chest to calm himself down after the fright she'd given him. He shook his head at her and pushed himself up. He was going to walk to her, but changed his mind at the last second, deciding that crawling was a more comfortable mode of transport.

Trace sat up and spotted Newt asleep on an adjacent sofa. It struck her that he looked so young. He looked entirely innocent while he slept, and she hadn't really had the pleasure of witnessing that before.

Minho reached her, grabbed a hold of her legs and moved them to the ground so that he could sit beside her on the couch. "Stop watching him sleep; it's weird."

"Minho, you were trying to chat up an unconscious girl thirty seconds ago."

"Oh, yeah," he said, as if that was news to him. "There was no one else to talk to. Everyone's so quiet."

"Asleep."

"Yeah. That. It makes me want to riot."

"To riot? You can do that if you do it quietly," she smirked.

"A quiet riot?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't sound like much fun."

Trace rolled her eyes. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

Minho shrugged. "Too much to think about."

"Yeah, but aren't you exhausted?"

He shrugged again but didn't answer.

"Get some sleep, Mint-Fro. Who knows when we'll next get the chance to?"

That appeared to spark a new train of thought in Minho's head. "Do you think they're telling the truth?"

"No."

"Not even a-"

"No."

"But they could be-"

"No. They're not telling the truth. They're lying to us, but we have no choice right now. It's not like any of us can fly a Berg, right?"

"You could try..." Minho trailed off, realising they'd never even seen the cockpit of one of these weird vehicles.

"I drove a car," Trace stated. "On the ground. And I crashed it into a few people and then it exploded."

"But that was all on purpose, right?"

"About 70% of it, yes. But that's not really enough to graduate to Berg-flying status now, is it?"

"Definitely not."

"So there goes that idea. We just have to wait and see what they do with us. Until then, we sleep."

Minho yawned. "Sounds shucking good to me. You mind if I crash here?"

"As long as you don't try to flirt with me while I'm asleep."

"Good that," he mumbled, his head already resting on the armrest. Trace did the same on her side, hoping to get some more sleep before things went pear-shaped all over again. She didn't want to think about the horrible things they'd do to her once she got back to the WICKED complex.

"Hey, Trace?"

She sighed. "Yes, Mint-Fro?"

"You're a good friend."

She smiled. "So are you. Now get some sleep."

"That girl is hot, but I wasn't flirting with her."

"Okay, Minho. Now get some sleep."

"I've got a better girl to flirt with."

Trace frowned and sat up, intending to ask him what he meant but, just as she had earlier, Minho had fallen straight to sleep, gone to the world.

If he was talking about Teresa, then she'd have to kill him. If he'd meant Brenda, she was okay with that, although Thomas wouldn't be. He could've meant any of the other Group B girls, but there was something about the way he said it that made her believe otherwise.

She was too tired to dwell on it now. She had sleeping to do. More of it. Maybe sleeping could be her new hobby. Or sport. She could become a world champion sleeper, winning every sleeping contest all over the world, stunning audiences every time, breaking records and inspiring millions.

She was still picturing it as she fell asleep, a smile creeping across her face.

That smile was long gone when she awoke.

A/N: I seem to like finishing chapters that way, don't I?