He was alone in the cafeteria.
It was dark. The only light came from the bathroom, on the right side of the room. He walked there slowly, trying to listen for voices, but none appeared. There was no one talking. Not Thomas, Teresa, or the shadow.
Carefully, he pushed the bathroom door open, letting the light engulf and blind him temporarily. His right hand searched for the sink, while the other blocked the light directly shining into his eyes. As he got used to it, he lowered his hand, letting both of them grip the sink.
"Liam—"
He raised his eyes to the source of the voice; the mirror. Blue eyes stared back at him, only they weren't his. It was the shadow. In the mirror, with a concerned look, Aris was looking at him.
"Aris?" His voice was faint to the point that a whisper would be louder than his words. "Wha—why?"
"Liam—"
The voice was not Aris'; it was someone else. Someone was calling for him.
The air got stuck in his throat, keeping his starved lungs from continuing their function. Every movement, every step, made him feel heavier. His sight was blurry, not letting him see Aris any longer in the mirror. He felt alone, and he didn't know how to handle it.
He wanted Aris to come back, even if his presence had been short-lived and silent. Being with anyone would be infinitely better than being alone.
"Liam—"
His back slammed against the bathroom wall. For some reason, his body felt heavier, and the floor under his feet was wobbling. His entire being was trembling, and his cheeks had gained an odd warmness that he wasn't used to.
"Liam!" Newt exclaimed, a hand carefully caressing his cheek while the other shook his shoulder.
"Newt?" William breathed out, relieved at the boy's presence.
"It's OK," said Newt while helping him sit up on the bed. "It's OK, it was just a nightmare."
"Wha–" William cut himself short, taking in shallow breaths to have air reaching his lungs. "Did I scream?"
"No, but you were pretty buggin' close," Newt replied, lying one arm on his back to keep him from falling back on the mattress. "You were mumbling and moving around like crazy."
"Sorry, did I wake you up?"
"How about you worry about yourself first?"
A shaky chuckle left William's lips, followed by a fit of coughs, which got Newt even more worried about him. He gulped and focused on calming his breathing, something he didn't remember having much experience in. It was his first time being so close to a panic attack after waking up from one of his strange dreams.
"Alright, look at me," said Newt, making William raise his eyes to stare at the boy, who was breathing slowly, yet loudly. "Just copy my breathing, OK? And count from one to five. That's what I do."
"OK . . . OK." He replied, out of breath, though with enough energy to curve his lips into a smile. "One . . ."
"Two . . ." Newt helped, counting for him out loud, while he did it mentally. They took a couple seconds, but eventually, they reached the number five, when William could finally let go of Newt's shirt to sit up properly. "Better?"
"Yeah, thanks," William breathed out. "So, counting to five, huh? Where did you get that idea from?"
As if trying to recall, Newt's hand fell slightly on William's back while his eyes concentrated on the bottom bunk in front of them, where Thomas should be, but was strangely missing.
"Not sure. I already had it in my head when I showed up in the bloody maze."
William nodded softly, scooting closer to Newt to rest his head on his shoulder. It was only five seconds later that he realised that his new friend perhaps did not like the closeness. Just as he was about to raise his head, Newt took a few strands of hair out of his face, not showing any signs of minding the intimacy at all.
As if he were in a state of bliss, William closed his eyes and enjoyed the touch. It felt nostalgic. He knew he once had a sort of relationship with Newt. However, after forgetting everything about each other, how could a simple thing such as an accidental brush of Newt's finger against his cheek distract him from the rest of the world?
The touch was comforting, the shoulder under his cheek radiated warmth, and William could only wish to keep it close to him forever. WICKED's power over his mind seemed meaningless compared to how spaced out he felt by the boy's presence alone.
"Hey, Liam, have you ever . . ." Newt doubted, making William look up at him expectantly. "When you were with your group, did you feel like anything was missing? Like something's missing in your life, but you don't know what?"
Taking the question seriously, William stopped to think about it. Had he missed something? There were a few things. However, his mind and WICKED had provided him with so many unfinished puzzles that he had close to no time to realise if he missed anything about his previous life.
"Sometimes," said William. "When I was in bed, waiting for exhaustion to knock me out . . . Yeah, I mean, I felt . . . It felt cold and way too spacious." A chuckle left his lips, which he tried to keep down to not wake anyone up. "I don't know if that made any sense."
"No, that's alright. I get it." Newt gently rested his head over William's. "I felt that, too. But . . . there was also something else."
A metallic sound, almost like something being dragged around, appeared under Thomas' bed, prompting the two boys' attention to go there. Only to see Thomas himself crawl his way out of a ventilation system under his bed.
"Hey." That was Thomas' contribution to their conversation as he got up from the floor and brushed the dust off his clothes. "Aris and Flor showed me to a room. Bodies are being taken there. Every night. These people are not who they say they are."
Once again, the air got stuck in William's throat. At least, until he realised that Thomas didn't mean him and his team by 'these people'. Newt, however, wasn't understanding the situation at all.
"Alright, Tommy. Rewind and start from the bloody beginning, 'cause I'm lost."
The two listened patiently as Thomas vented and ranted all about what had happened during his short expedition with Aris and Flor. How they had crawled through vents. That they saw stretchers with something, which they could only guess were bodies, being brought to an unknown room. That, apparently, happened every night at the exact same hour.
"Like clockwork," Thomas concluded, his eyes not leaving Newt for a second, as if convincing his friend meant everything to him.
"You know what they do with them?" Newt questioned.
"No, neither do Aris nor Flor," replied Thomas. "That's as far as they've ever got. The vents don't go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don't come back out."
"So nobody ever really leaves this place." William feigned to realise.
Thomas gave a short-lived, thankful look at William for siding with him, to which he replied with a smile. It didn't mean much to William, since he knew Thomas was indeed right about the Sanctuary, but a warm feeling crept up in his mind as he watched Thomas keeping his determination to convince him.
The feeling was completely different from the one from before, though it did force him to repress a smile as his mind, without him realising, thought.
Typical Tommy.
"There's something weird going on here, Newt."
The attempts at convincing Newt were clearly not working. The boy brushed his chin with his hand tiredly, his eyes travelling around the room as he did so.
"They were covered up, so you don't know what you saw." Newt reasoned. "This is what we're gonna do. Until we know anything for certain, we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, alright?"
Thomas doubted, but gave in nonetheless. "Alright."
"Why does it feel like you guys have had this type of conversation before?" William asked, utterly amused at the two boys' interaction.
"Well, when the Greenie, or Birdie in your case, goes to the one place, at the one moment, everyone's told them not to go because they could buggin' die . . . one has to make sure they don't almost get themselves killed. Again." Newt gave Thomas a harsh stare, which made him look back, almost apologetically.
"I guess in my group we're all Thomas, then." William chuckled, feeling forced to explain further as both Newt and Thomas stared at him, confused. "We all had to risk our lives regularly."
The clicking sound from the door, which once had made it shut close, now opened it. A guard walked into the room, a holster around their waist, keeping a gun at each side. Their eyes landed on William, and, with an indifferent tone, they announced.
"Your doctor needs to have a word with you about your test results."
"Wait. What?" Thomas turned to face the guard while Newt and William stood up.
Due to the noise, most of the group was either getting up or waking up. And Rowan, who was sliding down the ladder of her top bunk, declared.
"No, he's not going."
Leen quickly stepped in front of William, trying to protect him, despite the height difference not letting her be much of a threat without a weapon.
"They already tested him yesterday. They can at least let him rest one day." She and George, who had just joined the group, added.
The guard kept his eyes on the group, his hand landing over one of the guns. "He's required in the infirmary."
William clenched his hands into fists. He knew that going against orders at that point was of no use. But the impotence never left his mind. Being forced to do things, even if it weren't through orders, didn't allow him to be nothing but a lab rat. And he was exhausted from being one.
"I'm so tired of this shit," he muttered. Newt tried to stop him by holding his hand, but both knew they had no means of going against an armed man's orders. "I'll be back soon. I promise."
And then he let go of Newt's hand.
The small infirmary room where he had been the day before hadn't changed much from one day to another. Same people, same beds, same urge to get out. His doctor welcomed him with a bright smile, not something he had ever found comforting. Then, he was told to sit down on the free bed.
As he passed by the occupied one, William noticed Teresa lying and unmoving on the bed. She had tubes in her nose. However, the Holter monitor beside her bed let him relax, as it showed she still had a heartbeat.
He moved to sit down on the next bed, regaining his uneasiness from before. His doctor approached with a clipboard pressed against her chest. Her smile was sympathetic, but her eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"Good morning, William. I'm sorry to call you so early. It appears your identification device has suffered damage. We'll have to extract it and replace it. It's not a complicated operation, so don't fear. You'll be all fixed up for dinner."
William nodded, despite how badly he wanted to refuse. He didn't want to look at his tattoo, nor did he want to have a painful scar to remind him of his official title.
He lay down and extended his arm. No stinging sensation appeared. Instead, the strange, much sudden, sleepiness took over his body all over again. The world disappeared from his sight as he closed his eyes, giving in to the darkness.
At first, his mind seemed to become numb, slowly forgetting one thing after another. Aris' eyes. Newt's smile. Thomas' protectiveness over Chuck. Mae and Flor keeping everyone together. Henry, George, and Rowan using their humour to lighten everyone's moods. Bea caring for Leen in a way that friendship felt short to describe their bond.
Then, like a flash of light, all those little details came back to him.
'William.' Teresa's voice called through the darkness. 'William, listen to me.'
'You have to remember.'
It was dark and cold. His eyes opened, but he still couldn't see a thing. There was no noise or movement. Only one question popped up in his mind. Was he dead?
A door opened, letting light shine into the room, and giving him his answer. He wasn't dead, but something about his fast-beating heart made it clear he wasn't too happy about it either. The shadow of a man took a step into the room, their face covered by the darkness.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, S5." It was Janson's voice. "You should be grateful that Probation is being occupied by the Maze Trials. If not, you would have ended up there once again."
He opened his mouth, but no sound left his lips. His past self was cowering in a corner, away from Janson and the light.
"I want to meet my brother. Please. That's all I want before losing my memories," He begged, to no avail.
"You can't." He couldn't see, but Janson's voice carried the typical cocky tone that he had while smirking knowingly. The smile he used when he had the upper hand over anyone. "It's been years, anyway. You think he still cares about you?"
"We're family." Contrary to Janson, he was on the brink of tears. "He said he would never give up on me."
"I think he did." Janson sniggered. "Not only him. They all forgot about you: A5, B5, and every last one from Group S. They have no idea who you are. They have no memories at all. You're alone, William."
A single tear escaped his eye, rolling down his cheek to his chin. "Why me? What did I ever do? I'm not even Immune! No one in my group is! What's the point?"
Janson walked closer to him and squatted, still blocking the light from reaching his face directly. "You are the reason Group S even exists. The fact that you can fight against mind control condemned you to this. Your existence doomed your group. We didn't need them. We could have let them go back to their families, or whatever's left of them. But we didn't. All because of you."
"You're lying!" He shouted, another tear rolling down his eye. "I didn't! You're just making up excuses! You just want to see us kill Cranks! Kill people!"
Janson got up without a care in the world and turned back to the open door. "Delude yourself as long as you want. I just came here because of Doctor Paige's orders. They have extended your solitary confinement another week for attacking that doctor. How many additions has it been since your one-month initial punishment? Three weeks? Four? Let me tell you, William, if you so much want to see your friends again, you better behave."
"You have to be lying . . ." he choked out, close to no strength left in his body. "You have to be . . . he cares, he promised . . ."
Janson walked out and closed the door, drowning him back in the darkness of the cold room. Only sniffs and soft cries accompanied his solitude. At least, until the door opened once again, letting Thomas sneak inside without anyone noticing.
He sat down next to him, hugging his knees close to his chest while giving him worried side glances. "I lost them, too, you know? Talk to me, Li."
"Only Newt and Sonya can call me that, Thomas."
The memory stopped as William felt the numbness fleeing his mind. His eyes were still closed, and most of his body felt too heavy to move as he pleased. So he kept still, letting his mind be the one to run around with thoughts.
I'm the reason? He thought. I doomed all of them to this? To suffer? Why couldn't they just take me? Why bring a bunch of innocent children into this? How many died before we even began Phase One? And after that? How many lost lives are my fault?
"Are you sure?"
The loud whispers around the room forced William, much to his dismay, to ignore his personal worries to eavesdrop on the conversation. There were at least two people; doctors, most likely. Judging by the voices, the loudest was a man, and the other, who tried to keep their composure, was a woman.
"Of course, I'm sure!" A man argued, sounding outraged that his discovery was being doubted. "I ran the test twice already. His mind is corroding the new device faster than the previous ones. It's useless. There's no telling how fast or when his memories will come back to him."
Silence filled the room, accompanied by the clicks of heels against the floor. Someone was walking around rather quickly. Papers were scattered, chairs moved, and a curtain was pulled.
"He can't participate in Phase Two of the Trials," the woman answered, her voice closer than what William had determined earlier.
"But he's not Immune," The man pointed out.
The voices got closer, alongside two pairs of footsteps. The curtain got pushed again, and William felt a strange urge to open his eyes to be alert.
"Perhaps not. But S5, with his memories intact, could be dangerous. They warned us already. His only reason to follow orders now is to protect his friends. If he knew . . . I tell you, we'd all lose our heads before he helped everyone to break out and go after the Right Arm."
"Then what? What do we do?"
Another long pause made its presence, but soon the woman answered with the one word that made chills run down William's spine.
"Send him to Probation."
"Probation!" The man exclaimed. "And then what? Last time, he got out after six months. What about the rest of Group S? Once Phase Two is over, without S5, no one knows what might happen to them."
"If we hand him over to Jason as things are right now, he'll kill S5 on the spot. At least in Probation, he has a chance to make it out alive."
"And Group S?"
"Best case, they'll be disbanded and left in the Crank City. Worst case, they'll all lose their lives."