9/7/15: Revised and edited as of today.

I'm having serious writer's block for Chapter 12, and as such, have decided to go back to my old adage of working on previous chapters in order to get back in the mood.

You may all applaud my amazing writing skills now. :D

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner.


Memories

*Thomas*

"Mummy?"

The pretty woman in front of him wiped her eyes quickly and turned to face him. "Yes, sweetie?"

He looked up at her, his childish stutter accentuating his words. "Where's Daddy?"

She tried to smile through her tears. "Daddy's just – gone away for some time, sweetheart. You'll see him soon, I promise." Satisfied with this answer, the toddler continued to peruse the carpet with the fascinated attraction of children.

The brunette hated lying to her son, but how could she tell him that his father was gone forever, taken from them so cruelly?

"Mrs Stevens?"

She turned around to find the doctor waiting for her. It seemed to be years since she had gone for the testing, to find out if she had the disease that had stolen her husband. "Yes?"

The overworked girl had a sad expression on her face. She looked up to meet the anxious brown eyes of the woman whose life was about to be destroyed.

"I'm sorry. You are not immune to the Flare."

She felt an eerie calm descend upon her. She didn't cry or wail, or stare in disbelief, as many others the young doctor had seen.

She had known, in a way, what was coming for her. She had felt it, in the quiet moments, the madness that was starting to consume her. She had pushed it aside, focused on her child, told herself she was wrong.

The test wasn't wrong.

She stumbled backwards, falling onto the red plush chair.

The toddler on the floor looked up at his mother, not understanding what was wrong, how his innocent world was about to be torn to pieces. He smiled and toddled over to the girl, patting her leg. "Pretty."

She let a smile slip across her face, and picked the child up, tickling him gently. He laughed delightedly, and looked into her eyes.

She froze.

Maybe….

She put the child down, thinking deeply as she crossed over to the devastated mother. She put her hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Mrs Stevens, I think you should send your son for the testing." The woman looked up, eyes wide. There was a wild desperation in her eyes, searching for any way to save her son.

She grabbed onto the girl's hand desperately. "Could he…is he…"

"I'm not sure. He could be."

Her son could be immune. Immune to the Flare.


"I'm afraid this is his best option."

Her mind spun wildly, the same thought repeating itself over and over again. This can't be happening.

She picked him up, pressing him to her, treasuring her last moments with her son. How could she let him go? He was the only person she had left in the world – how could she give him away?

"He's my son. I can't…I can't let him go."

The briskly efficient woman from WICKED gently led her away to another room. "Mrs Stevens – may I call you Anne?"

She nodded. "Anne," the woman started in a soft voice, "this is his best option. He can't stay here. He's only four. Do you want him to see his mother going crazy?"

She flinched. No. He must never see that. The thought of it terrified her; her sanity slipping away until she wouldn't even know who she was anymore. If you had no sense of identity, of who you were, did you even really exist at all?

"He can have a better life, Anne," the woman persisted. "I know this is the hardest thing that you have ever done. I know, for the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to give your own child away."

You're wrong, she thought blindly. One day, I'll forget who he is entirely. One day, I'll be nothing more than an animal.

"But this is for him. He won't have to see you slip away. He can have a life away from this. And, when it's time for you, at least you can have the comfort of knowing he's happy and cared for."

She didn't have anything left in her. She had given everything she had to give: her love, her life, and now her child.

She nodded simply, not trusting her voice.

Without saying anything, both of them stood up and walked to the next room, where the child stood waiting.

"Mummy?"

She picked him up again, and he put his little arms around her. "What's wrong Mummy?"

"Nothing's wrong, my darling. You're just going to go away, and help these people. Okay?"

"Okay," he said quietly. Accepting. Strong.

She hugged him tighter to her. The tears threatened to spill, but she couldn't let it. She had to be strong for him.

"You're going to do great things for this world," she whispered in his ear, keeping herself under control. "You're going to make me very proud. I love you, sweet boy. I love you so very much, and don't you ever forget it."

They stayed connected, no one wanting to move.

Finally, the lady cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. But we have to go."

She let the boy go, and he stared up at her. She looked into his eyes, and she knew that he understood what was going to happen.

"Go on now, and be brave," she said quietly. "Remember, Mummy loves you."

He nodded and gave her a kiss, pressing his face into her shoulder one last time, before he turned and walked out the door with the lady in the white coat.

The two men left behind looked up at the light bulb.

"You know who invented that, right?" one of them said. "Maybe we should call this one Thomas."

He walked out too.

The last man left behind looked at her, and she saw sympathy in his gaze. "Your son is going to do great things for the world," he said quietly. "We will find a cure. I promise you that."

Then he left.

She curled up into a ball and let the tears come.

Thomas knew he was dreaming.

But why, then, did it feel so real?

That was my mother.

His mother gave him up to save him. She loved him enough to give him a better future. She loved him enough to give him away.

She loved me enough to let me go.


*Teresa*

His eyes searched hers.

"You…have to be brave. Okay? Go through the magic wall. It'll take you away from here. You have to help them. You're special."

She nodded solemnly. She had to go away. She was going to help someone. She was special.

Trina hugged her.

She got a feeling that this was their last goodbye. She would never see them again after this.

A lump rose in her throat but she remembered what Mark told her. Be brave.

She turned and plunged into the grey wall.


Teresa?

She turned abruptly to look at the boy across from her, an expression of delight spreading over her face. You did it!

He grinned. Told you I would. She rolled her eyes. Don't get a big head now, Tom. You're still a major doofus.

Aww…really?

Yes.

"You know you love me," he called out loud, breaking the telepathic conversation they were having. "I know I don't," she retorted. "I think Aris would get a girlfriend before I love you."

Aris walked into the room and stopped short. "You two are arguing again, aren't you?"

"We are not!" she protested. "She started it," Thomas said, leaning back into his seat and crossing his arms. "She called me a doofus."

"Hate to break it to you, dude," Aris winced, "but I kinda agree with her."

Thomas slammed his hands down on the table, staring at Aris with a betrayed look. "You traitor!"

Teresa grinned smugly. "Who else would be addicted to that stupid game of yours?" she asked. "God knows how you're even supposed to win it."

"You're just mad because I beat you. Thrice. Is someone being a sore loser?" he taunted.

Teresa's eyes narrowed into slits, fixated on Thomas. Her jaw set, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

Aris rolled his eyes and walked out. "I don't even want to know," he called over his shoulder.

The two didn't hear his words. Thomas stood up nervously.

"Teresa?"

*Thomas*

Teresa? T?

She didn't even respond when he called her via their minds. Even T, a nickname she absolutely despised.

She had a wicked (no pun intended!) sparkle in her blue eyes, and she was stalking towards him, while he backed away like a coward.

He would never admit it to her, but she was growing to be seriously beautiful. He had known her since they were five, and they were nearly fifteen now. She had always been by his side and they had grown up together.

He couldn't remember anything of his life before he was four. Only odd flashes of it came back to him now and then, but they were gone as quickly as they came. The only person he could trust was her.

They were friends. Best friends.

But lately, he'd begun to notice things about her. How her eyes sparkled when she laughed. How her dark hair was shiny and straight and he wanted to run his hands through it to find out if it was as silky as it looked. How her legs seemed to go on for miles. How she could cheer everyone up just by walking into the room.

She was smart, funny, kind and beautiful. He came to enjoy the time he spent with her more and more.

She stopped, just meters away from him, hesitating. He knew, in a way, where this was going. And he wanted it. He wanted her.

He stepped closer to her, and she moved near him, pulled by a seemingly invisible string. "Thomas…" she left the sentence hanging, but he looked in her eyes and he knew the truth.

And then his mouth slanted over hers and they were kissing.

He pulled her closer to him, and her hand ran up to his neck, pulling him down to her, as he gripped her waist, her hair wrapping around his fingers in silken strands. He turned her around, and her back met the wall as her legs wrapped around him.

He deepened the kiss, their lips moving in synchronisation as he lightly ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

He remembered Teresa as he had first known her, small and tiny with bright blue eyes. He remembered holding her hand for the first time. He remembered working late together on projects, laughing and teasing each other, of countless days and nights in her comapany, and he wondered how he didn't see it before.

How he didn't see that he was falling in love with her.

*Teresa*

She stopped short, just meters from Thomas. He looked at her, and she didn't recognise the expression she saw on his face.

Longing? Want? Love? All the things she'd hoped he'd feel for her?

They moved towards each other at nearly the same moment, as if drawn like opposite poles of a magnet. "Thomas…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. He tilted her chin up, searching her eyes, brown into blue.

And before she knew what was happening, his lips were pressing against hers.

And she was consumed by the kiss, by the feel of his mouth against hers and his hands pulling her closer to him, of the softness of his lips and his hair under her fingers.

He would never know, oblivious as he was, how all the girls in the room looked at him as he walked by. He would never realize how attractive he had become. She remembered him as a shy five-year old, meeting her for the first time. She remembered him staying up all night when she was sick to look after her, of sneaking out with her late at night when she didn't want to be alone. She remembered years of friendship and work and late nights together, and she knew that she was falling in love with her best friend.

His dark brown hair, and almost melting chocolate eyes, the way he laughed every time she teased him, how strong and warm he felt when he hugged her…

It was so clear what she had to do; how she had to let him know of her feelings now, in this moment of passion that they both would never forget.

I love you, Tom.


Thomas woke up with a start. The dream he had been having; it felt so clear and vibrant, as though it really happened. And the end…

Had he really spoken to Teresa?

And that was when he heard her voice, the voice he never again expected to hear in his head.

And the words she spoke were crystal clear.

I love you, Tom.


A/N: Whew! Seven chapters re-done!