Disclaimer: All right belong to James Dashner (even though he doesn't deserve it for what he did on page 250 of The Death Cure)

Rating: T for Glader language and violence

Author's Note: *contains Death Cure spoilers* I was inspired to write this because it broke my heart when Newt died. I cried for a while, then wrote a four page essay on why he was the best character (and my favorite) and why he didn't deserve his fate. I also can't find it within myself to forgive Thomas for not following the note the first time, but I still love him, so I had to write this so that I can fix my broken heart. I hope you enjoy this story, which takes place right after the Third Trial in an AU where WICKED does discover the Cure.

Chapter 1

The Rat Man had gathered the survivors in a large room. Thomas sat at one of many tables, Minho and Newt to his right and Frypan and Teresa to his left. His leg wouldn't stop bouncing, a habit he'd procured from his time in the padded room. Tension gripped his every fiber as he sat perched on the edge of the seat. Newt, closest to him, gave him a reassuring look.

"I bet you're all wondering why you're here," Rat Man said. "And I'm not one to disappoint. I have good news for all of you." He looked around, giving everyone an equal amount of time to make eye contact before he shifted his feet and continued. "The Trials were a success, as you might guess. All of you played the part brilliantly, and the brain patterns and configurations we observed were of great use."

"Played the part?" Minho's eyes raged. "We were just trying to survive, you slinthead. That's all we ever wanted."

"Sacrifice was necessary, Mr. Minho. But it was not all a waste. Those that you left behind in the maze weren't left to die. We rescued them and brought them back to our faculties. We removed their old Swipe and placed in a new one. They won't remember the maze, but they remember their past. WICKED is good, after all."

"Are you going to give us back our memories?" a girl asked.

"Yes. All in good time," Rat Man replied. "If you want them. We'll do that later. Now, however, we have a much more pressing matter."

"I thought we were done!" Minho snapped. "All you do is lie to us." He began to stand and Newt grabbed his arm and pulled him down again, whispering furiously in his ear.

"I know why you have trust issues. Hardship and suffering was necessary. The end justifies the means, though, and you've brought about huge scientific discoveries."

"Then tell us the bloody good news," Newt said, an edge to his voice. Thomas jerked in surprise; Newt had hardly ever spoken so harshly. He'd gone through something during his time since the Trials and it didn't seem like it had been a joyride.

"As you wish, Mr. Newton. You see, we discovered the cure. What sets the immune apart from the Controls. We—"

"Controls?" Thomas spoke in a low voice. He didn't like the sound of that. Controls in science experiments were the unchanged variable, and that would mean…

"Yes, Controls. Not everyone in the Trials were immune. You, Mr. Thomas, are immune to the Flare." Rat Man shifted the papers in his hand.

"You said we all had the Flare inside of us," Thomas argued. Something lurked at the back of his mind, a memory trying to move forward. It didn't succeed, and melted back into its corner as if it had never tried to escape.

"You did. And you should know, brilliant scientist that you were, that being immune means that the virus is in you but doesn't affect you. All of you were exposed to the Flare. Only some of you will begin to show symptoms. The majority of you who survived are immune." Rat Man glanced at a few of the girls, one or two Gladers and then at Newt.

"So some of us unlucky shanks are going to turn insane?" Newt asked.

"The Flare takes a while to move to your brain," The Rat Man replied. "And as I said earlier, the Trials were a success. We discovered the Cure, and have faculties and labs mass producing it right now. Those of you who are not immune will be cured by tonight. The shipment of the chemical will arrive in an hour. You have nothing to worry about. That goes for all of you."

He shuffled his papers again. "That being said, those who aren't immune have nothing to worry about. I'm going to read the list of names of those who will require the Cure. Newt…."

He continued to read names and around him people gained shocked and sad faces. Thomas heard the man talk but his voice didn't reach him. All he could think of was that one name. His best friend had not been immune.

Thomas leaned over, resting his head in his hands. He felt someone on the right elbow him.

"Sit up, you shank. I'm not bloody done yet." Newt. Thomas looked up at the blond and saw a genuine smile on his face.

"What if they didn't have the Cure?" Thomas asked. "What then?"

"Then you'd have to shoot me so I wouldn't suffer like the rest of the unfortunate Cranks. You don't have to worry, Tommy. I'm going to be okay." Newt rolled his eyes.

On the other side of Newt Minho had leaned forward. "Glad you love this shank so much. Are you guys going to propose now? I'll be the best man."

"You can be the shuckin' maid of honor," Newt replied.

The Rat Man began speaking again, and everyone turned to hear him. "We do have two more matters to discuss before I leave you. One is the matter of your future. After everyone has been cured you'll need to stay here. You'll pick one of the jobs we have. Now that we have a Cure we need to give it to people. We'll be assigning teams of Munies and the Cured to go and administer it. We also need people in the labs to produce more of the Cure and to try and create a vaccine for the Flare. The third job option is building; with people being cured we'll need to rebuild cities to keep the Cranks out."

"I thought we have a Cure," Frypan said. "So why would we need to keep Cranks out if we can give them the cure?"

"The Cure only works of those who are in the early to medium stages of the Flare. Those past Gone are too damaged to be saved. That's why we need as many teams as we can get to start administering the Cure. We need to save as many people as we can, and so we'll need to work quickly and efficiently. Now the second matter I need to speak to you about is your memories." He paused.

A foreboding silence spread across the room. Everybody glanced at each other. Thomas knew what they were all thinking—did they want to remember? And if they did, would their friends hate them once they received their memories?

"You don't have to get the Swipe removed. It's a choice. Many of you will want to wait, to have time to think it over. Well, we have lots to do and so if you don't do it when we offer it in a few days you'll have to wait until after the Cure is spread."

The Rat Man stood up. "If you want to talk to me more, just ask for Assistant Director Janson. I'll be leaving for now. I'll be back for those who need the Cure later, and we'll do the memory Swipe after everyone is cured. For now there are beds and showers and food is coming. Remember—WICKED is good."

He walked out of the room and it exploded as everyone started to talk all at once. Everyone except Thomas, who was still taking it all in.