THE AFTERMATH (after the death cure)

We Were Fighters

RACHEL POV

"But seriously am I right or am I right?" Aris laughs. I put an arm in front of my mouth to stop the hysterical laugh escaping from my throat.

"Aris!" I cry, punching his arm lightly. Once my laughter settles I manage to choke out a sentence.

"Thomas and Teresa will love that one. But you're so right, Janson does look like a rat."

"I'm a genius." He lifts his head up triumphantly.

"That's pushing it a little don't you think?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I'm smarter than you!"

"That's only because you're like three years older than me!"

"Oh I'm sorry is wittle baby wachel sad?" He pouts. I roll my eyes.

"Puh-leese" Flipping my blond locks dramatically. Aris grins, shaking his head.

We're approaching Thomas and Teresa's training room where they're supposed to be tracking their maze and analyzing brain activity. Just as Aris is about to open the door I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looks over at me with a curious look.

"Are you sure you want to do that without knocking? Remember last time?" I tease. Last time we walked into their training room Teresa was leaning against a wall, while Thomas was tilting their lips together. We walked in before they could even touch each other and let's just say they both wouldn't talk on the way to dinner. It was bad enough without Aris's teasing and the fact that we walked into their might-have-been first kiss.

Aris decides to play along and pretends that he had just dodged a bullet.

"What would I do without you?" I laugh at his comment while he knocks on the door.

"Thomas! Teresa! Are you decent?" He shouts. I cover my mouth with my hand to choke down the laugh escaping my throat. But instead of a reply we hear Thomas's muffled voice.

"We need to go and help him!" He sounds like he's angry. I can faintly make out Teresa's voice.

"Tom, calm down. We were told to be prepared for this kind of thing. Not all of them can handle the maze."

"Look at him Teresa! We have to do something!" Thomas's voice booms, obviously not listening to what Teresa is saying. Aris and I share a worried look. Aris twists the doorknob and we burst in. Thomas is standing next to his monitor with his hands in his hair. Teresa is in front of him trying to calm him down. I try to see what's on the monitor but Teresa is covering my view.

"Is everything alright here?" Aris says with a questioning tone.

"No! No, it's not! This isn't right. None of this." Thomas takes a deep breath, before looking me in the eyes his own softening only slightly.

"I'm sorry Rachel." He says firmly before storming out of the room. The comment feels like a punch in the chest.

"Thomas!" Teresa shouts after giving us an apologetic look before jogging after him.

I'm finally able to look over at the screen. I walk towards the monitor. My heart is ripped apart, the pieces falling into a dark abyss. I see my brother sprawled out on the maze floor, his head bleeding out and his leg twisted in an unnatural angle.

My throat closes up. Hot, thick tears escape from my eyes. Gut wrenching sobs wrack my body and suddenly I don't care anymore.

Please, please stop. This isn't true. Please.

"No!" I scream through the tears. My knees give in, unable to support my weight any longer but Aris is there to catch me.

"You said it would be okay! We were supposed to fight!" I sob, so much that with each whimper my body aches.

"Rachel? Rachel. There is still a chance that Newt is alive!"

"That's not his name!" Anger courses through me like an untamed beast unleashed by the pain inflicted on my mind. The tears now not only tears of grief and sadness but of fury and loss.

"Rachel! Please, it's okay!" Aris says, panic evident in his voice, he slowly places me down to the floor.

"No! Don't! Don't say that! It's not okay!" I screech. I bring my legs to my chest and hug my knees, burrowing my head in them.

I was stupid. Stupid to think we were strong enough. Stupid to think I would see him again. Stupid to think there was hope.

Because there is no hope when the person who would always be there isn't.

"We were supposed to fight." I whisper, before the world collapse before me.