My True Pack.

Chapter 24

Thomas's Point of View.

I was looking at the dark black clouds outside of the building, the night making the Scorch feel more dangerous.

"How's the hand?" A voice asked from the darkness asked.

I turned to see Scott. I smiled and looked down, were my right hand was supposed to be but wasn't anymore. "Good."

He approached me. "You saved my life, thanks."

I smiled.

"Is it true? You forgave me?" He asked.

"Yes, Scott. I forgive you. Because I don't want to make something out of hate, anger and sadness again." I looked at the stars again.

"Again?"

I sighed. "Mark, me and Ava made W.I.C.K.E.D out of anger, sadness, guilt and grief. We tried to prove ourselves to some persons that would never care again. But in that time, it seemed the best answer."

He didn't speak.

"You know, back when W.I.C.K.E.D was starting, me and Mark trusted Janson and looked at him as our father figure and..." I laughed at the memory. "Mark was afraid of everything. Almost childish."

"Really?" Scott's voice had curiousity in it.

"Yeah and his biggest fear was death. Gosh, he would freak out with the thought of death. Because he killed his parents, it was his trigger." I sighed. "There were nights I went to his room and promised him that he would die of old age. Another promise I broke."

"Mark, Mark Winston afraid of death?"

I chuckled darkly. "Yeah, insane. But he feared death back in those times. And when he came back, I didn't see the light brown, huge glasses, nerd that I had as a friend, I saw a broken, white hair, man. That didn't care about death. And I realised it was my fault."

"Stiles, it wasn't you fault--."

"Yes it was. Scott, I promised him that he would die of old age, he was twenty-two! He was still young and now he's in a morgue, probably being experimented on and it's all my fault! I wanted to show you that I was a hero too. And I became an assassin, I shot Mark, I-I lost myself." I sighed.

"You saved Newt's life."

"I shot Newt."

"You changed. And it's for the worst. Minho told me about your hope but it's seems like he lied." Scott touched my shoulder. "What would Mark say about this?"

It's not how your story began. It's how you end it, never forget that, Stiles. Never.

I looked down. "It's not how your story began. It's how you end it." I smiled. "He told me that the day I stopped being an assassin."

"How did you stop?"

"Well, I thought I was far gone. Couldn't be saved. But one day, I had to kill a family. And it didn't bother me so much and I did it. I killed the parents in front of their twelve-years-old boy." I shivered. "The horror on his face was unexplainable. He cried when he saw me and he even raised his hands on defeat. And he was 12."

I take the dummy that Chuck gave me and played with it. "He was inmune and I took him to the headquarters. But the horror on his face never left my mind. And I finally realised I went too far. I quit the same day, I broke down crying. All the deaths coming to me at once and I saw myself as a monster. Mark found me, he looked at me with a poker face. His limp was very fresh and he wasn't talking to me. But he just whispered those words and left."

"Oh."

I played with Chuck's dummy. "The doctors made their shit and liked the kiddo. He didn't have a name and Mark was banished. I was alone. Mary was dead, Tina was dead and Mark was gone, probably dead. I lost my friends but the kid looked at me with empathy. He talked to me. He forgave me. And I gave him a friend before the Maze. And I also named him."