A/N: This is pre-maze. WICKED is just finishing their plans, about to put the maze in effect. Thomas and Teresa do not know that they will once be part of the trials, in fact, there's a lot they don't know. Beware: This chapter has lots o' fluff, but it slowly dwindles with time.
Character List:
Thomas and Teresa, you know them
Ralph, Thomas and Teresa's "babysitter"
Mr. Newbit, in charge of many things at WICKED but mostly in building the maze
Thomas was sitting in a large cement room, reviewing the final plans for the Maze. He was with the same employee that he has been with for the past three days, although he couldn't recall his name. He kind of hated that the employee was here; it was as if WICKED didn't trust him.
"So when will the Maze will be ready to go?" Thomas asked, staring at the large computer screen in front of him. It showed a layout of the Maze, everything that was finished was color-coated blue, and if it was in progress, it was red. There was a lot of red.
"We think next week, sir," the WICKED employee said. Thomas loved that- being referred to as "sir." Even if Thomas was only fifteen years old, he and Teresa were pretty high up in ranks. He was young when he was taken from his mother, back when the Flare was driving her crazy. It was a hard thing to think about; a memory that still ignited pain in his chest. WICKED had wanted him for his intelligence, but mostly, because he was immune.
"Excellent," Thomas whispered, in awe of the design. There was not a flaw to be seen in the blueprints, the Maze would serve its purpose beautifully. Not that he knew much of what was going on; no one would tell him anything other than it would invent a cure for the Flare. "You have all the candidates ready?"
The worker nodded, and Thomas noted by his name tag that he was called Ralph. "How many of them are there?"
Ralph answered slowly, as if he wasn't sure Thomas could be trusted with the information. "It is my understanding that 43 subjects have been chosen for the test, sir."
"What do you mean, subjects?" Thomas asked. The air in the underground devolpment room seemed to get colder as the silence dragged on. Ralph was searching for an answer, but trying his hardest not to show it. "Mr. Newbit has advised everyone to call them subjects from now on." He finally said, choosing his words carefully. Thomas chewed on the inside of his cheek. "That doesn't seem fair, Ralph."
"No, sir. It doesn't."
"They're people too," Thomas thought aloud.
"Yes, sir."
"Why can't we call them by their names?"
"I hate to disagree with you, Thomas," Ralph said, trying not to provoke the boy. "But as long as they are enrolled in the WICKED plan, they are subjects." Thomas sighed, seeing the conversation as a lost cause. "Can I meet them?"
Ralph looked at him for the first time since entering the development room earlier that morning. "I don't have any authority on those matters."
"I'm building the stupid Maze and I can't meet anyone but you?" Thomas asked, more bored and lacking human interaction than annoyed.
"I'm afraid not, sir," Ralph answered, adverting his gaze back to the computer screen. Thomas wasn't upset, but he decided to play with the stubborn employee. "Ralph, why do you work here if you can't control your own destiny?" He asked, trying his hardest to be innocent.
"That question does not make sense, sir," He responded without missing a beat.
Thomas hopped down from his chair. "Sure it does. You just have to think about it," He waked over to Ralph and Thomas put his hand on hand on his shoulder. "You don't get to socialize, Ralph. You sit here and babysit me all day."
"I am pleased with my job, Thomas. Now, If you would please continue reviewing-" Thomas let out an airy chuckle, something someone of high social class would do. "Oh, Ralph. Naive, little Ralph. Why do you keep this job?"
Ralph's eyes were like pinpoints staring at the wall intensely as he tried to get out of this conversation. "Thomas, please continue reviewing-"
"You could be having the time of your life!" Thomas interrupts, widening his arms as if envisioning a rich landscape before him. "Charming man like you doesn't deserve to watch me and my female companion all day long."
"Sir, go back to the maps." Ralph grunted through clenched teeth.
Thomas removed his hand from Ralph's shoulder and shrugged. "Just promise me when I'm done here, you'll have fun. Can you do that for me, buddy?" Thomas liked acting, and he wasn't half bad at it. He could pretend he was someone else, in another world, with another personality. He and Teresa would often make skits that would cause them to go rolling with laughter for ever afterwards. It would take away the pain of being abandoned.
Thomas started to walk back to review the Maze, when he thought he heard a mumble from Ralph. "You won't be leaving anytime soon, kid." Thomas turned to face Ralph, not trusting his ears.
"Did you say something?" He asked.
"No, sir. I did not." Thomas stared at Ralph, not being able to detect a lie from his stony face or to distinguish between a cough from words. Suddenly, the doors burst open and a girl Thomas knew all too well stood in the frame.
"Busy?" she asked in her normally-chipper attitude. Thomas couldn't help but stare as the light from the hallway shone behind her, causing her long black hair shine and making her eyes sparkle as beautiful as ever.
"Conveniently not, Miss Agnes. Please do come in," Thomas said in a mock-British accent, the one she had said was "extremely cheesy and over-done." Teresa made a small curtsy in the doorway and then shuffled to the screen in a less-than-graceful manner that made Thomas laugh.
She curtsied again to greet Ralph and then joined Thomas in laughter. Ralph, as always, remained still, but he was in a considerably better mood now that Teresa was here.
"Where have you been all day?" Thomas asked her. Usually, they spent the whole day together, and Thomas had to admit he had missed her.
"Got called in to a special meeting," she explains. "Directors said I was far too intellectual for the program and that I had to be sent to the bigger headquarters in Hong Kong for their program."
Thomas suppressed a grin and copied her playful smirk. "Teresa Agnes, smarter than the Almighty Thomas? I doubt it." They both broke into laughter, Teresa first and Thomas following because he couldn't help but smile when she did, and the room is filled with the same playful atmosphere as every other day.
"Okay, for real now. You gonna tell me where you were?" Thomas asks, sliding into his plastic chair. Teresa mimes zipping her lips and throwing the key over her shoulder.
"Come on, no secrets, remember?" Thomas prods and she sighs over dramatically.
"Fine. But you have to guess first."
"Okay, one guess."
"No, three."
"Two?"
"Nope."
"Two point two five?"
"Nuh-uh."
Now it's Thomas's turn to sigh. "I guess. Um, were you fighting a frog?"
Teresa's nose crinkles in a way Thomas can only describe as adorable. "You know I hate frogs."
"That's right," Thomas recalls, although he hadn't forgotten. "Were you... eating a hot dog?"
She giggled and a "No, Tom" followed. Thomas thought long and hard for his last guess. "Did you get your belly button pierced?" he says in a loud whisper. "Because its just a phase, Teresa. We all grew out of those wanna-be-punk ages."
"I got a haircut, you ass," she says between laughs. "A whole 3/4ths of an inch, and if you weren't such a butt wipe you would have noticed," Teresa says matter-of-factly and Thomas clutches his chest above his heart.
"Ow! Hurtful words, Grandma."
Teresa opens her mouth in a gasp and slaps Thomas's bicep. "Hardly! I'm only two months older than you," Thomas rolled his eyes and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
"Whatever," he says, although he knew that. "All I know is that my birthday's coming up and you're going to have to be nice to me for a whole day."
"It won't be that hard," she announces, "because I am a much better person than you."
"No buttwipe's or ass's or stupid's allowed," Thomas reminds her, but she nods and says, "I can do that."
They talk about everything and nothing until one twenty-two and decide to get lunch. They walk down to the cafe with Ralph trailing behind. Teresa begins her daily complain of "I'm hungry and we should eat earlier," but Thomas argues that "all the people are there though." The two figured out when they were first named Creators that the workers in WICKED love a celebrity; and two 12 year old Creators definitely fell into that category. The way they flocked to the table where Thomas and Teresa were sitting disturbed the two children and often scared them into silence.
The two had been adopted by WICKED from their Flare-infected parents at the age of eight, and at first stayed away from each other, unknown of the others existence. After a short test, the Creators had deemed them smart enough to become a Creator themselves- after intense tutoring, of course. They were the only two who were picked, so they stuck together for the four years of what they liked to call "Super School." At first, Teresa wasn't too fond of Thomas, but a gifted cookie had quickly changed her mind. The two have been inseparable since.
Settling on a soggy hamburger and wilted side salad, they sat down in the empty cafeteria. The chairs were like every other in the building, hard and cold and uncomfortable, and they often reminded Thomas of a hospital waiting room. Squirming around every other minute to get comfortable, the two ate their meal with plastic utensils in peace.
Teresa was rambling on about something- Thomas was too busy watching her lips form the words to pay attention- when she suddenly stopped, agape mouth full of lettuce. Thomas noticed the silence and looked up from cutting his hamburger. He said, "What?" at the same time she asked, "You cut your hamburger?"
The two laughed and Teresa asked again. Thomas looked down, slightly embarrassed, and said, "Yeah, my mom used to cut hers and... I don't know, I've just kept doing it."
Teresa didn't finish chewing before she quickly added, "No, no it's totally okay! I do that too."
"Really?" Thomas asked, surprised anyone else did.
"Yeah," She reassured, now finished with her mouthful. "My friends used to make fun of me at school because I'd need a fork for my burger."
"Me too," Thomas added. Smiling, Teresa stabbed her fork into her salad and kept eating.
"It's you and me Tom, against these Finger-Food Eaters," she said with a light shake if her head, and Tom smiled at the mention if his name. "You and me."