The Death Cure Trials (TMR Love Triangle)

Twelve - The Death Cure

"Used to say I wanna die before I'm old, but because of you I might think twice."

Penelope

The small things are what remind us of our sanity, our humanity, our selflessness and our instincts. Tiny reminders or hints of humanity ever existing are small, but the traces are like drawing between dots.

In the dirt I get under my nails, I see the dirt of the glade, the sweat from the scorch, the uncleanliness of the train. In contrast, I see it as revolution, going against cleanliness, except the cleanliness is metaphorically W.I.C.K.E.D. I'd like to think that I shower enough.

My nails have been abused by my teeth, chewed down to the soft pinkness in which they become sensitive and painful to facilitate. Every time I do it, I find no pleasure in the pain and tell myself I'll grow them out, stop the habit, but every time they grow back, I find myself falling back into the habit.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is, we're all beautifully human, and sitting here next to Ophelia as she brushes some hair behind my ear, trying to braid in the way that Gally once did, I've realised that we can say we're going to change, or that we're going to do something, but we often never go through with it.

That's what I love about Thomas, actually, he's the most determined person I've ever met, and would stop at nothing to save his friends, to make things right. We might not be trying to save the world like W.I.C.K.E.D, but we're saving ourselves, and perhaps it's selfish to do, but in an apocalyptic world where they refuse to let us into civilisation and function properly in society, it seems fair.

After everything W.I.C.K.E.D. have stolen from me, from us, I don't think it should matter if we steal a little bit back. If we steal Minho back.

I lace my boots up absentmindedly as Ophelia finishes my hair, securing it with a black ribbon she had given me, and a small smile takes over my face as she nodded to me. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"I promise." I extend my pinkie to the girl, and she giggles quietly before linking our pinkies in a promise. "I should go, shouldn't I?" Ophelia quickly nodded her head, opening the door for me as quiet as she could, and I sent her one last smile before making my way out.

I had my backpack on, filled with supplies and extra ammo cartridges and a strap attached to my thigh, with a dagger, while my medjack belt was filled with extra supplies and my gun, along with a secondary weapon.

It felt heavy to carry, but the heat was bare-able as it was only around five in the morning, meaning the sun was yet to reach its peak and burn my skin, which it always seemed eager to do. When I got closer to the truck, I saw Newt and quickly jogged over to him, my belt making a small thump every time I took a step as a smile took over his face.

"Hey." I breathed out. "Not late, am I?"

"Not quite, love." Newt squeezed my shoulder gently before placing a hand on the table, gazing around as footsteps came closer. I suppose I came just a moment early, since I figured Thomas was on his way now, and when he emerged, Newt was the first to speak.