The Death Cure || 1

Chapter Seven

"How'd it go?" I wondered aloud, shutting the fire escape door behind me as I followed Gally to the edge of the roof.

"If Thomas follows the plan, we should be in WCKD within the week." He assured me, his tone affirmative, making me consider the possibility that he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince me.

"But it's not that that's bothering you?" I asked knowingly, noticing his wistful gaze, his mind clearly somewhere else as he locked on to the distance through the wasteland.

"Hm. No it's not." He mumbled, his eyes finding the floor as I noticed they did when he felt ashamed or anxious, he never showed it in any other way. Never verbally, he only ever looked down.

"It's just weird, y'know? Feeling like none of us even know eachother anymore. We used to be all eachother had, and now.."

His downcast eyes glazed over, a watery white wave washing over his pupils. Not that of sadness, rather fondness, a soft longing pulsing from within him.

After a moment and admittedly without much consideration, I slowly reached my arms around his neck, gently pulling him into me. In turn, he hesitantly wrapped his buff arms around my waist, bending his head down to bury it in my neck, his freckled cheeks nuzzling into my shoulder. His warm breath huffed against my sudden embrace, brushing past my ear.

"If Ava changed her mind about throwing me into the maze, I would spend the rest of my life with you."

I backed quickly away, staring at Gally, blinking harshly with disbelief.

"What's wrong?" He suddenly asked, still holding my arms, like nothing had happened, but I was sure he said something.

But the maze? Ava? It didn't make any sense. The words echoed in my mind, whispering to me. It was undoubtedly Gallys voice, that I was sure of. It was low and grumbly, a gruff, comforting voice. But it didn't sound like something he would say, not to me anyway.

"Uh. Nothing." I said instead, my voice quiet and confused. I take a quick breath before looking out into the desert. Sullen thoughts sank into my mind. What had all these secret murmurs meant? Was I going insane? Probably. Was I finally getting the flare? Maybe, who knows? But in any case, I couldn't have made that sentence up. It continued to echo, bouncing around in my more than confused brain, befuddlement overriding my expression, my eyebrows furrowing in deep concentration.

What. Was. That?

I found it less than consoling to know I was hallucinating, especially about Gally, promising me that he would spend the rest of his life with me. But in disregard, I threw myself off the dangerous tracks toward the doom and gloom destination of crankery, being zombified into some half begotten shell of myself only to be shot dead by some WCKD official to be one of their lab rats, my head peeled apart, used for some progressive cure technology that would only be used on a select group of poor excuses for human beings, the ones who were more affected than the oldest cranks.

No, I wouldn't think about it anymore. Instead I offered my hand, plainly holding it out next to Gallys saddened stature, his broad shoulders slumped over.

"Shall we?" I joked, gesturing towards the door, his thin lipped mouth flashing a smirk.

"We shall." He took my calloused fingers gracefully in his, tucking my fist into his hoodie pocket, his warm hands brushing against mine, his palm enclosing my own.

I had no idea what was happening as we made our way down the steps, but as each one brought me down and closer to earth, a sudden reality started to set in, that Gally was holding my hand.

Was he still holding my hand?

"This way guys." The gladers followed us into the meeting room where an unorganised circular table stood dead centre, blueprints and rough sketches scattered in an uneven mess. I hadn't even registered waking through the door, my eyes locked on anything but Gally, and his fingers enveloping mine.

"So, here's how this is gonna go." Gally placed his hands on the table, finally releasing me, leaning over the previous plans and glaring specifically at Thomas.

"For this to work, we need Thomas to lure Teresa out. Away from the crowds and out to a secluded area where we'll grab her and bring her back here. Depending on what she feels like spilling her guts on today, we'll have some more intel on WCKD. And then we'll come to a decision on how to infiltrate their main base of operations."

All eyes fell on Thomas, who looked sour faced at the table.

"No. There's gotta be another way."

"What other way is there?" I asked exasperated, disregarding the past events for the minute, my daze snapping, Thomas tended to inspire that annoyance from within me. "If you've got an alternative we're open to ideas here, Tommy."

"Even if this does work." He retorted, his eyes narrowing down directly into mine. "You really think she's gonna help us?"

"What part of luring her out and capturing her makes you think we're planning on asking for her permission?" I inquired, planting my hands on the messy table.

"Am I missing something here?" Brenda piped up, "This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?"

"I like her." Gally threw in, my head nodded in agreement.

"What's going on?" She demanded, her voice composed.

"What are you afraid your little girlfriend's gonna get hurt?" A harsh voice chimed in. "This has obviously never been just about rescuing Minho? Has it?"

"Wait what're you talking about?"

"Teresa." Newts harsh voice silenced the whole room within a second, his lean physique looming above Thomas. "She- she's the only reason Minhos even missing in the first place and now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and you don't want to because of her?"

"Newt I-"

"DONT LIE TO ME!" Thomases back slammed against the wall he had been backed into, a constant ring of metal clanging shooting through the air.

"Don't lie, to me." The stillness that followed was almost deafening, everyone was frozen in place as Newts anger seemed to simmer, and a look of regret took its place. Only sharp, shocked, hollow breaths could be heard, the quiet whirring of the light above the table hummed along in awkwardness. It was all like it'd been happening in slow motion.

"Sorry.. I'm sorry."

My vision idly followed Newt and Thomas out of the room and I couldn't help but feel a tug in my gut. I knew something wasn't right, and then it hit me. The sudden bursts of anger, the lack of colour in his face, the mindless fury, it was obvious. He'd caught the flare. Just like Lawrence.

Just like Eleanor.

Dear Readers;

crying for Newt rn