ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ

The Betrayer

[Y/N's P.O.V]

Dusk had fallen, the sky a charcoal grey, flicks of the fire dancing between the tent gaps. Sitting up, a blanket fell from my legs, the crank bite cleaned and rebandaged. I scanned the area, unsure of how I got in here but not complaining as I felt a lot better than I did before. Medicines littered shelves and boxes were stacked messily, microscopes and other equipment that reminded me of a science lab. Standing up, any dizziness was gone, my body no longer aching and feeling much stronger. Sighing, I grabbed my bow that sat in the corner, slinging it over my back along with my arrow bag.  Peeling back the fabric, a peaceful scene lay before me, people talking and laughing like there's no tomorrow. 

I walked about, spotting the pack huddled together, smiling wide with a grey-eyed brunette. I presumed him to be Derek. Seeing that they were happy, a warmth filled my chest making me have a small smile as I continued on. Aris sat close to Sonya and Harriett, a large grin stretched across his pale face, something I haven't seen him do before. This place is what we needed for everyone, a place where there's no heartache form Wicked, where we can finally be free.

Boots crunching on the sand, the sight of all the Gladers on top of a mountain sparked something deep within me. Thomas, Newt, Fry and Minho, all together, smiling. They deserve all the happiness they can get, especially after what they've all been through. My mind couldn't help but imagine Chuck, sitting next to Thomas, annoying him in a brotherly way. And Alby, watching over us all like the true leader he was, Winston sitting by Fry chatting and laughing like there was no end. Not forgetting everyone we lost to that stupid organisation, they'd all be here, all of them, the whole glade.

Blinking back tears, I noticed Teresa standing alone on a mountain edge, gazing off into the distance. From her stance I could tell she was deeply thinking, waiting for something. Creasing my brows, I lightly jogged over to the piled rocks creating stairs, climbing them skillfully. Pushing myself to the last one, a salty breeze hit me, my eyes washing dry.

"Teresa", I spoke softly, the brunette's hair floating gently in the wind.

After a couple of seconds, she spun around with a sad smile on her mouth, "Y/N, you should be resting".

"I feel fine", I replied, stepping forward, "but something tells me you don't".

Her ice blue orbs dimmed, an untouchable emotion behind them as she slowly shook her head.

"Hey, you can tell me anything, girl talk, right?", I said, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, "you know I won't j-".

"Do you remember your mother?", Teresa looked up quickly, my hand dropping from the sudden question.

"No... no, I... I don't", I whispered, clearing my throat, "why?".

"I remember mine", she answered, "she was a beautiful woman, everyone loved her and before Wicked, she was all I had". 

I smiled softly, nodding encouragingly, listening to the developing story.

"But then she got sick... and I didn't know what to do".

A slight jolt of sadness hit me, "I'm sorry".  

"I just kept her locked up, hidden, hoping that she would get better", the girl's voice cracked, "... she'd make these... awful sounds, wailing and crying and then one night it just... stopped".  

Goosebumps picked my skin, fearing her next sentence as hugged myself due to the chill that danced over me.

"So, I went down to check on her... there was blood everywhere and she just sat there calm saying she was better, that the visons were all gone... that she'd taken care of them", Teresa swallowed thickly, screwing her lids closed for a few seconds before snapping them back open with a light sob, "she took her eyes out, Y/N". 

"I'm-", I went to speak but was cut off sharply.

"There are millions of people suffering out there, millions of stories like mine", the glint of tears shone on her pained face, "I can't turn my back on them... I won't".

A bubble of panic popped in my chest, my legs going stiff, "what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want you to understand", she whispered.

I shook my head, veins burning, "understand what, Teresa?"

Her gaze met mine, a different tone to her voice, "why I did it".

"Teresa", my speech wavered, blood turning cold, "what did you do?"

Swinging in her fist was the walkie talkie from the warehouse, Wicked cackling on the other end. She overlooked the black sky, bright lights shining in the distance. My breathing felt heavier, the low rumbling of bergs and helicopters making my ears buzz. 

Teresa turned to me with glassy eyes, a sorry look on her face, "please don't fight them, Y/N, please". 

"What have you done?", anger surged me, beginning to back away, "What have you done?!"

Scrambling down the rocks, I abandoned the betrayer, sprinting as fast as I could, a large helicopter flying over me. Racing against it, metal creaking echoed, a missile loaded. Pumping my legs faster, the helicopter swerved ahead and clicking once, it ignited the camp to orange.