She lost him. But she found herself. And somehow, that was everything.
I lost him. I irrevocably and irreversibly lost the person I cared about most. The boy I loved. Thomas. Tom.
I lost Tom. But then, was he really mine to keep? Did I really ever deserve him? No. Probably not. Still, once he was mine. Once, I was his.
I came into the Maze and I knew his name. I remembered him. And then, he remembered me. We knew each other from before. In the Maze we were inseparable. We triggered the ending. And we got them out. Together.
…
All the trouble started before the Scorch. When WICKED scientists burst into my room.
I lazily trace a pattern on the bed. Thomas was sleeping. I could feel it from the fuzzy, warm feeling that he was there. It was comforting.
I lay there for a good few hours before something happened.
A huge bang from right outside my door makes me sit bolt upright.
Dread fills my stomach.
"Tom. Something's wrong." I call out to him urgently.
I feel awareness creep in slowly from his side.
The door bangs open and then my room is filled with scientists.
Thomas is awake now. I can feel his confusion and I'm sure he can feel my desperation. I'm ready to call out to him again when one of the nurses sticks me with a needle and everything goes black.
…
I wake up slowly, heavily. I blink my eyes a couple times and sit up, groaning at the pain in my head.
My fingers go to my face. I have oxygen nubbins in my nose.
The first thing I do is try to contact Tom.
I can't.
Our connection has been tampered with from the outside.
My head throbs painfully.
My fingers fly up to my head, but on the way there my fingers brush against a protrusion coming from my neck.
Panic ceases my heart.
I grab a bedside mirror. Thankfully, it's a folding mirror.
Pushing my dark hair onto one shoulder, I angle one side of the mirror to my neck, and the other outwards so I can look.
It's under my skin. A bulge. There's also a tattoo I've never seen before in my life.
Subject A1
The Betrayer
What have they done to me?
At that moment a strict looking nurse bursts in.
"I wouldn't suggest trying to stand Teresa," she advises. "You've just had a surgery."
"What did you do to me?" I demand.
"You're little connection has been shut off temporarily," she smirks, ignoring me. "So don't even try it."
"What. Is On. My Neck," I growl.
"You'll find out soon enough," she says and quickly backs out through the door.
I found out alright. I got my memories back. It wasn't all at once, they took their time, every single one seeming worse than the last. Except the ones with Thomas in it.
My family was dead.
My home was gone.
All I had left was him.
So when they told me they needed me to "betray" Thomas to get a pattern or they'd kill him, I nearly went into hysterics. The crushing blows of each tragedy had already weakened me and hearing I that I might lose him killed me.
So I agreed.
I thought that I could handle losing his love and friendship if it meant that he would live.
I was wrong.
…
My own emotions we're used against me, weakening my judgement.
If I could have thought clearly, I would have found a way around it.
I did it for him.
And in doing that, I lost the only person I had left.
To save his life.
And to think that, once upon a time, we were closer than siblings.
...
We're sitting away from the campfire and the other's, laying on the grass and watching the stars.
"You should have seen us when we were little," I say absently.
He turns his head to look at me.
"You had a memory?"
"Yeah. When we were little and growing up in the WICKED compound. I was taller then you then. And faster."
I hear him chuckle and he gently slaps my arm.
"Whatever," he says, though I can hears the smile in his voice.
I smile too, watching the stars twinkle.
"We were always great friends. Best friends. Always getting into trouble," I laugh into the darkness.
"Mostly, that was my fault though. I would drag your chicken butt to go prank a guard or something like that. I was quite the non-conformist." I smile fondly.
"You however," I poke Thomas in the rib, "were always a goody two shoes. And a suck up." Thomas laughs beside me.
"Unlike you, I wanted people to like me."
"Yeah, that was always a part of you I wasn't fond of. So I tried to change it." I smirk. "Not that that helped anything. Do you realize how much you suck up to Newt, Minho, and Chuck?" I lazily turn my head to look at him.
He pouts.
"I'm not that bad."
I turn up my lips in mock consideration.
"Hmmm, I don't know about that. What's the first thing you did when you came up from the box? Make friends with the youngest boy here. What's the first thing I did when I woke up? Kicked some guy in the nuts."
We both burst out laughing.
"You got me there," he snickers.
Eventually the laughs die down and we lay in a contented silence.
…
Now that Tom won't talk to me telepathically anymore, I have resorted to trying to feel him. I can already sense when he is awake or asleep, but I seem to be so in tune with him that I can sense his emotions. Usually it's not that clear, just a taste of the real thing, but it's clear enough that I can gage them.
It comes it useful to, I can use it to put two and two together, like when Minho asked Thomas about Newt. Pain sadness and guilt ripped through Thomas so fast and so strong that I was almost gasped at the intensity. The emotions were so raw that I had to steady myself so I didn't topple over at the pain I was now feeling from him.
And now the pain that I was feeling.
I knew what had happened. Newt was dead. Newt was dead and Thomas blamed himself for it.
I shut my eyes and pinched my lips in an effort not to cry. Newt had been my friend. We weren't as close as he was to Thomas and Minho, but we were close.
I would spend hours while the boys were sleeping concentrating on Thomas's metal wall, mapping it, looking for cracks that I could slip into. When I did find one of those cracks, I could hear a few thoughts. But because he wasn't knowingly letting me in, all I could here were snippets. But they were usually enough.
Suddenly, a shoulder bumps into me and I gasp, my thoughts breaking and splintering.
Aris's eyes dart to mine.
"Deep thinking?" He asks, giving me a wry smile.
"You could say that," I give a small grin at the boy who has become my only friend.
Only then do I look around and come back to reality. We are walking in a pack, following Thomas as he leads us to "the safe place" as he calls it.
Thomas is at the front, Minho flanking close on in right side. The other boys are literally traveling in a pack behind him. Aris and I flank Thomas to his far left, away from the group. A bit of the reason is because I am hated by every other person there. We both are. But mostly the reason is that I can't bear to be apart from him, and this is the closest I dare get.
It's what he would have wanted. For me to keep my distance. He won't say it, but that's what he wants.
I find myself focusing in on his mental wall again. I search it, looking for a crack. When I find it, I slip through.
"Newt, so sorry. Minho, how to tell him, guilty, my fault. Teresa," I feels my breathing hitch as he thinks my name. It's been so long since I have crossed his mind.
As he thinks it, he turns to look at me. It's only a quick glance, but it makes my heart speed up.
"Fine. For now. So pretty. Love her. Miss company. No!" He starts to scold himself, and the pure and utter happiness I was feeling seems to go on hold as my heart stops.
"Hate's me. Betrayal. Doesn't feel same way. No love." Then a wave of resolve go through him so strongly that it seals the crack and I'm pushed back out.
He use to associate me with protectiveness, love, joy.
Now he associates me with hurt, sadness, and betrayal.
Shock has taken my breath away. No. No, no, no. He can't think that. He can't-
Tears are falling down my face now.
Aris looks at me, his face alarmed.
"Did you hear something?" he asks, telepathically.
I just look at him, tears rolling down my face.
He doesn't need an answer.
"God Teresa, I'm so sorry. "
Quickly, he bends over and picks something out of the ground, then offers it to me.
"It's a flower" he says, unnecessarily.
It is a flower. Beautiful, delicate, midnight blue.
"It's the same color as you're eyes," he says as he tucks it behind me ear.
I give him a small, sincere smile.
He is my only friend.
…
Eventually Thomas calls for us to "make camp". "Making camp" consisted of us laying down on the hard ground, covering ourselves with whatever we had on us.
I didn't have anything except for a pencil and notepad I had swiped from an old campsite, so Aris gave me one of his. I smiled at him gratefully, glad to be out of the increasingly dropping temperatures of the night.
Wrapping myself up in it, I watched as the other boys seemed to drop like flies, dead to the world as they snored loudly.
I don't know what came over me. Suddenly, I'm taking out my notepad and pencil and writing frantically. It was like there was some part of me inside that was desperate to get out and be expressed.
Only after I had written it did I realize it was a letter.
Thomas,
I tried. I tried to tell you how sorry I was.
But words could never express the deep regret I felt for that day.
I'm sorry for breaking your heart.
I would never, ever hurt you. You are my whole world and all I have left.
I've heard your thoughts Tom. You're wrong about me.
I love you Tom. I only ever cared for you.
Teresa
That letter was never opened. Never discovered. Tragic words of loss and love lost forever in the emptiness of death.
…
I didn't sleep at all during the night. I just lay there and stared blankly into the darkness.
And because of that, when Thomas poked his toe into my back when morning struck, I rolled over and pretended I had just woken up. I didn't want him to think anything was up so I yawned and pretended to be still tired.
In reality, I had never been less tired in my life.
Thomas went around and poked everyone until there were all awake.
Looking around more closely at my surroundings, I saw the sun was just rising. Bright pinks, blue, and golds touched the horizon.
Geez, was Thomas a farmer or something?
Oh, right.
In the glade they were taught to get up with the sun. I guess he was still in the habit.
A few minutes later and we were moving again.
The wide, grass fields seemed to be narrowing down as we approached something. Something familiar. Something with huge, high grey cement walls with green ivy hanging down…
Something about this place sets loose one of the few memory's I hadn't seen yet. To me it seemed that the more important they were to me, the longer it took for them to reveal themselves. The one I had now was no different.
It was the last time I saw Tom with full memory.
…
"Meet me in the documents lab." Thomas tells me telepathically, out of nowhere.
"What? Why?"
"Just do it Teresa. Trust me."
I stand up from my computer and walk down the long hallway, trying to look at inconspicuous as possible.
…
The documents room is lit up in a blue light, which reflects off my white clothes.
I weave my way through the maze of file cabinets, heading for the end of the room.
Hearing my footsteps, Thomas turns around and looks at me. His eyes are filled with panic.
"Tom?"
I leave it as a question, aching to know what's happening.
"Teresa, I'm sorry. I had to do it. I couldn't just watch my friend's die."
He looks around desperately.
I step forward.
"Thomas!"
"They'll be here any minute. The guards. They're going to take me away. I had to do it Teresa. They were killing everyone. I told the Right Arm where we are."
I stand there it shock.
"No." I whisper. That's treason. Highly punishable.
"He's in here!" The door bursts open and guards are suddenly everywhere.
Two of them have Thomas by the arms.
"I'm sorry," he says as he's dragged out the room, leaving me to stare in horror.
He was sent up into the maze. Labeled "Highest candidate."
…
My eyes clear and refocus and I take the time to appreciate that I haven't walked into anyone.
I look up and see we are walking through a huge, thick doorway.
Then it hits me. I know where we are.
"Why are we in The Maze?" I yell from the back.
There are gasps as everyone looks around franticly except, Me, Thomas, and Minho.
Thomas's eyes tighten and his lips purses at the trouble I have just unleashed.
"The Maze?"
"Why are we back in the freaking Maze?"
"We only just escaped, let's not go to our deaths!"
"What about the grievers?"
"SLIM IT!" yells Minho from the front.
"Don't you shanks think that if we didn't have a mighty good reason, we wouldn't be here? Thanks for the trust guys."
Everyone quietens down.
Thomas speaks up.
"I've been told by someone I trust that there is a flat Trans here that leads to a safe haven, a refuge. All you need to know, is that there IS a good part of WICKED. There are some people on our side."
Quickly, Thomas raises a hand.
""Now I know what you guys are thinking. If there was a flat Trans here all along, why didn't we go into it in the first place? And the truth is I don't have an answer. I wish it had happened that way too, but it didn't. My main focus is getting YOU guys safe. You need to remember that I lost as many friends as you did."
There's silence as everyone processes that. Then there is another uproar.
"Who told you this?"
"How did you get the information?"
"How will we find it?"
This time's its Thomas who yells at the group.
"Slim it you shanks! I told you! If I tell you who told me, none of you will believe it, and we will all die. I'd rather not say how I got this information. I haven't even told Minho. He would kill me."
Minho's head snaps up sharply and studies Thomas. Not taking his eyes of him, he nods slowly.
"He's telling the truth. I'm as in the dark as you guys are. I just trust him a whole lot more."
Thomas nods respectfully at Minho. Then he continues.
"As for how we will find the Flat Trans, I have no idea. I can only assume that it will appear when I punch in the code."
He turns on his heel and starts walking.
The small crowd is still buzzing, but they all sense that Thomas is not going to say anymore so they grudgingly continue forward.
…
The Maze looked hauntingly beautiful. The vegetation has blossomed and grew a bright, healthy green. It looked better than before. Like our presence had sickened it and now it was healthy again. Something was still off though. Nothing that looked THAT good could be on our side. The Maze had secrets. Dark secrets.
It would kill you if it had the chance.
I was right. We had only started walking through the maze when everything stated going haywire.
It seemed like the other part of WICKED had found out we were here.
First there was a giant explosion that, even though we couldn't see it, sent us all to the floor. The shaking didn't stop however, so when our Maze training of always stay on your feet kicked in, the vibrating ground make it very difficult.
Then parts of the ground started coming loose, sinking and rising into the air. The piece I was standing on decided to rise.
"EVERBODY RUN!" Thomas yelled from the front.
And so we did.
Running, jumping, balancing.
I jumped down from my platform onto another one, then used my momentum to jump to the next one.
"We're going to die here," I think. "Without even seeing the flat-trans."
It was if the Maze had a self- destruct button and someone had just pushed it.
As we ran Thomas pulled what looked like a remote form his pocket.
"WHAT'S THE CODE," he screamed back at Minho.
As Minho started reciting the code, Thomas punched into the numbers, which then began floating it front of us like a ghostly blue hologram.
7358142
As the last number was entered, a hazy blue door flicked into vision. The flat Trans. Seems like I was wrong.
Thomas skidded to a stop and stared, seemingly shocked that it was that easy. We all were surprised.
I'm racing as fast as I can, jumping onto the different platforms as I run for my life yet again.
Sweat is beading on my forehead, hair whipping behind me, panic knotting my stomach.
There's a loud boom, then the ground shakes as cement falls from the ceiling, cement crashing into cement.
It sends me flying to the side, leaving me to crash against one of the walls. Growling in pain, I pick myself up quickly and begin running again.
I lock sights on Thomas, who (the stupid shank,) is still standing there, staring at the translucent blue rectangle. A loud boom is heard over head again, and I can see the grey dust sprinkle on top of him as the cement piece over his head begins to come loose. He doesn't seem to have noticed.
Dread filling my stomach, I start screaming at him.
His friends, who have by now stopped too, are yelling at him as well.
He doesn't appear to have heard.
Another deafening boom is heard and then everything seems to go in slow motion.
I'm running, pushing my legs as hard as they will go. Thomas is the only person I can see. The cement block is beginning to fall, and all I am doing is focusing on going faster. Faster.
I'm not thinking anymore. I'm just doing.
When my body has been used to its physical limit, knowing I won't be able to make any more force, I fling myself at Thomas, shoving him as hard as I can.
He stumbles sideways about eight feet, falling onto his side as he loses balance.
I lose my balance too from leaning too far to one side. I fall onto my side, the roll onto my back.
A moment of immense relief.
And then pressure. So much pressure.
The world suddenly come back to its regular speed, and all I know is that everything except for my left arm and head it stuck underneath the cement block coming from the ceiling.
I can feel the bones cracking, but the sounds morph into one big mighty crack that seems to deafen me. Almost all of my bones, broken.
But I don't feel pain. When you sacrifice yourself for someone you love, there is no pain.
I can feel blood tricking down my face from a gash on my forehead.
Then I hear the scream. And it's familiar. Not mine, but someone I know. Thomas.
"TERESA!" he yells.
"T-thomas," I sigh.
Suddenly he face is right over mine, and he is cupping my face, tears streaming down his cheeks.
His eyes are clear, horror filling his face. He knows. He understands. Everything was done to save him. And he feels terrible.
I hate the expression on his face. I don't want him to feel guilty about me. I just want him to understand what I felt, what my motives were.
I use my left hand to bring his neck down towards my face, then our lips meet, and we are kissing. It lasts a few seconds, then we pull away as our eyes open again. He's searching my face. He just kissed a dying girl. Pain flashes across his features but I can see he doesn't regret it.
I don't either. I found my purpose. To protect him.
I really wish I could tell him that I love him. He needs to know.
He brushes a few stray stands from my face, his tears dripping into my hair.
"Teresa." He whispers.
"Tom." He has to lean over my face to hear me. "It's ok. I only ever cared for you."
I don't know if he heard the last bit though. My words were gradually getting quieter as I used my last breath.
I reach up my one uncrushed hand and caress his cheek, then lower it to grasp his hand tightly one last time. I concentrate on his face, wanting it to be the last thing I see.
"I love you Tom."
"I love you too."
And then suddenly, everything was worth it. Everything. Just for this moment.
I had my memories. I knew what I was giving up.
I can hear Aris's tears through his thoughts as he enters my mind.
"I'll put a flower on your grave."
He knows I'm going to die. I have just enough strength to answer him.
"Midnight blue?"
"Midnight blue."
I smile one last time. It's only a crack on my blood and tear streaked face. My eyelids are steadily get heavier. Using my last inch of strength, I look at him. And for a moment everything is ok again.
It's just us.