Arthur let out a long groan of frustration as Alby left before shifting, his bandages digging into his side. "You gotta be nice Artie, You'll set a bad example." Newt rubbed his thumb over Arthur's knuckles, dusting over each individual creasing.
"I...
ARTHUR, could never tell you when he arrived, what his life was like beforehand.
Maybe it was different for everyone.
Maybe he was the only one who was shut in his room that was littered with hand-drawn pictures.
Maybe there was no one else at all.
Maybe he was alone here.
He always wondered as he stared up at the roof of his room if there was anyone else out there. Someone other than himself.
Perhaps the isolation had caught up to him but as he scratched that day's tally with a knife he had stolen from a guard, he couldn't help but smile because this was his change, a change to his daily cycle that never altered.
To the side of him were a group of tallies that took up the entire wall, each other done with different pressures, Some were light, so light you could bearly see them and some were so harshly done that bit of wall around it had flaked off. He was running out of room to make the lines.
Every day when he would be led out of his room and towards the room he would see the same people, a boy and a girl. Both were aware of something the rest of them were kept in the dark about. WCKD always had favourites, just a shame he wasn't one.
Always dragged around by adults in white coats given tasks to do and sometimes whispered words of comfort. Or what he would assume to be what they thought was comfort. "It was for the greater good." And. "This would save everyone Arthur you just have to do it, no questions." Sometimes even the blonde angel who saved him would appear, stroking his hair and murmuring words that always seemed to settle the nerves in his stomach.
But Arthur was a curious boy. Questions came naturally for him "Save them from what?" He would always ask confused, always ignorant, but never informed. Instead was told about how by doing what he was doing he would be saving millions of lives.
Manipulative and cruel. Twisting what they were doing so he would go along with it. Actions that would seem so cruel to an adult but so nice to the eyes of a child who had never felt the touch of love. The idea of being a hero. The idea that he would save so many people if he just trained for this one moment.
But he grew up, growing up in WCKD subjected him to terrible things. The stories of how he was a hero, living up to his namesake turned into poisonous tales take just seemed like they were killing him. Slowly but surely he knew WCKD would kill him.
The old name Arthur came from the legends of the Round Table he was told. A group of men with one leading them with such strength and power that they couldn't help but follow but even with all these people telling him what he needed to be he wasn't that person. He never could have been, he could never just change to fit someone else's ready-made mould. Change to fit their plan because Arthur was kind, emotional, and never thought with his head always with his heart and maybe that would be his downfall.
