Experiment 101 (Aris x Reader)

19) Into the Desert We Go

A/N:I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I was fighting for my life with finals, then got thrown into night shift, and now I have to do it all over again in like two weeks. Night shifts over though so I'll try to be more consistent

The white wall had become your best friend during healing. It never cared about what you did or didn’t have to say. It didn’t look at you with the intent of something unknown or ask a million questions. It just sat with you consistently, constantly, a reminder that this was your life now, as you completely forgot about the first and only best friend you ever had.

Thomas sat on the other side, unmoving, feeling the cold air surround him as he sat upright on his bed. He could feel it watching it just like how he could feel them invade him with questions he didn’t have solutions to. The Flare, Cranks, famine, none of it was things he could fix yet. None of them were things he had a full answer to.

And still, they poked and prodded and interrogated until they swore he was on the brink of remembering Stephon again.

His eyes, once filled with worry but determined and knowing he was cared for, had turned into something darker. Something no child should know.

And your eyes, once full of life, once filled with happiness and love, once infused with empathy, were now lifeless. There was nothing left in the void of your face, not even grief.

Aris’s P.O.V

“You should let me carry that bag.”

“Huh?”I asked, not really registering the words as I wiped the sweat from my face. I can't believe I have to get through hell to get to safety. This almost makes me wish I had just given up and stayed at WCKD. At least there, I wouldn't be dripping so much I turned into a melted human popsicle.

Then again, part of that is because dead bodies are cold. At the same time, I’d be beside Rachel. I’d get to hear quiet sarcastic remarks under her breath and see her run her fingers through her dark hair in that specific way before she tied it up in her usual ponytail.

She died without her ponytail. That means WCKD took the time to take it out, because she had it in when she was called. Rachel, kind, observant, brave Rachel, didn't just die at their hands. It wasn't enough to kill her. They stole a crucial part of her that always completed her image in my head.

And now I’ve got her instead. A very, very odd girl with unintentionally creepy sentences and innuendos. I've never had someone tell me they want me before, and it is definitely not the confidence booster I thought it would be.

“They don't feel anything during the process of being put in the machines. It's exactly like anesthesia. They go right to sleep.”

I stumbled at the mind-reading, the memory I was already thinking about hitting me all over again. The sand seemed to become a part of me, my feet glued to the burning ground. She stopped with me, waiting for me to recover from what would haunt me forever.

“But . . . after?”I asked slowly, my heart racing at the endless possibilities that I didn't want. Maybe she did know what it actually felt like and couldn't tell me that while we were there. Or maybe she was just lying to test it out. I don't know much right now, and I don't really think I have the time to sit down and dissect the most confusing human alive yet.

She looked at me with pure pity, a hopeless look that answered everything for me. She didn't mention before when we first saw because before wouldn't bring any comfort. She only knew some of the now. And what she knows is either that it hurts or it doesn't.

She could die hurting, and I just let it happen.

“There's never any fear in their brainwaves when they're asleep. At least, there haven't been when I’ve seen it.”

“What about pain?”

“The pain receptors in the brain overlap with several different emotions. It's difficult to know for sure, but pain is something to fear. If she's not feeling any, then it can’t be too much for her.”

Hearing a monotone voice explain that my best friend probably doesn't feel too afraid or hurt while being harvested is an unintentional smack across the face, a part of reality that I don't think I can accept. She’s not doing it on purpose, but it is not working wonders for the grieving process.

Then again, I can't imagine pretending she never existed would do magic either.

“How’s your stomach doing?”

“Hm?”she asked, looking down at the bandages still tucked under her shirt. When she seemingly remembered she got shot, she shrugged like it was nothing before rubbing the back of her neck.

Her mannerisms are more human than the freakishly calm and collected people who killed Rachel. She might not always deliver messages the most appropriately, but I’ll take her over them and eighty percent of subjects and the other workers there any day of the week.

Your P.O.V

The desert was much plainer than I imagined. I knew it was sand for miles and pure sun, but I thought that surely there’d be other things to accompany it: cacti, lizards that learned to adapt to harsh environments, abandoned items. The only thing we got were boulders that were the exact color as the ground that sounded a little too harsh beneath our feet.

There's everything and nothing out here. Nothing to make, nothing to sew with, nothing to fix up. Just us, the constant risk of dying, and WCKD wanting us back. All the hard work and suffering has ended up with more hard work and suffering. Well, everyone else is suffering at least. I’m not exactly programmed to do that.

I can't explain it, but I don't think Maverick is either. Programmed like everyone else I mean. I’ve met a lot of jerks in my time, and they just don't act the way he does. Then again, what do I know about how we’re supposed to act?

“Jesus Christ, are we there yet?!”

Okay, I'll take my chances and assume that more than likely not like that.

“It's been less than a day. Calm your frizzy hair,”Minho said blankly. It wasn't the kind I am but more of a know-it-all way? Or sarcastic I'm pretty sure? Yes, that's the word. Sarcastic. He uses a lot of that. Too much in my opinion. It makes listening to him even more complicated than usual.

This is who I'm paired with though, so this is what I have to deal with.

At least I don't have the ability to be annoyed by it.