A Group B fanfiction following Group B's Keeper of the Runners (Minho's equivalent), Rogue. This story is split into II parts: most events before Rachel & Aris, and all events after.
'Then, next to her, another girl. And another beside that one. She...
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RACHEL'S BODY went stiff in Rogue's arms. Everyone was silent.
Then, in a flash of rage, Aris rushed forward and threw himself on the man, the Maker, tearing down with his fingers like claws. He found the man's throat and squeezed, falling to the ground on top of him. Aris straddled the man's torso, gripping him with his legs so that he couldn't break free. Then, he started punching.
Blood was spilled and there was a stomach-twisting crunch of bones as Aris continued to raise and thump his first. His hand connected with the man's nose, sending a sharp crack through the air. The Maker didn't react, didn't fight back — he just stood there, absorbing the blows. Aris's voice broke with fury as he screamed, 'You did this! You killed her!' Spit flew from his lips with each word. Rogue's mind raced. If Aris was avenging Rachel's murder, why hadn't he attacked Beth, who remained in a state of stagnant shock?
Harriet tugged on Rogue's sleeve and gestured urgently. If they didn't stop Aris, he would kill the man. That couldn't happen — they needed to know more. Rogue nodded, and they rushed forward, grabbing Aris and pulling him back, holding him by the arms. Aris wrestled against them, his face contorted with rage. 'Let me go!' he begged, eyes wild.
When they didn't release him, his desperation dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs. Eventually, they let go, and he crumpled to the floor, curling into a ball, crying and repeating. 'No, no, no,' over and over and over, his voice wracked with despair.
His body trembled as he crawled across the cold, hard floor towards Rachel's lifeless body. Each movement seemed to sap the last of his strength, but he pushed on, his fingernails scraping across the ground. He reached her, his hands trembling as he touched her still-warm skin.
Rogue slumped backwards, trying not to look at the girl's shirt, black with blood. She wiped her own tears from her cheeks and rubbed her eyes. Just hours ago, Rachel had been so full of fire, a force of nature who had saved them time and time again. The bravest person Rogue had ever known, or would ever know. Seeing her like this, so still and empty, was unbearable. The loss was too much, too sharp, and she felt her strength falter.
To have forged a bond so swiftly, only to have it cruelly severed even faster, was a pain Rogue had never known. She resolved then and there, she would never let herself feel this way again.
She turned away. Her gaze landed on Ada, who stood nearby, tears brimming in her eyes. Rogue couldn't tell if those tears were for Rachel, for the pain of her own wound, or for both. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe, at that point, nothing mattered. They had left the Maze. What now? Everything they had ever fought for had been achieved. Rogue felt empty.
