The Cost of the Cure

Chapter 63

That night, you lay in your hammock feeling half sick. The Banishing had been one of the worst things you had ever seen. The way they had forced him in the Maze, trapping him. How all the Keepers had done it, even Newt who had been taking Ben's fate the hardest out of anyone you knew. And then there had been Ben. Terrified, insane, so... not him.

You shudder even as your stomach twists as you think of it. You know that no matter how long you live, that scene will always be etched into your memory. After seeing a Griever, fighting one even, you would rather be killed than trapped in the Maze at night. It was worse than a death sentence.

You turn in your hammock for what seems like the thousandth time that night. You doubt you'll be able to get to sleep, and even if you do, you'll be sure to have nightmares.

"Can't sleep?" Newt whispers from his own hammock.

"You're awake?"

"No, I'm just talking in my sleep," he answers. Despite his words, there isn't a single bit of humor in his tone.

"It-- it was horrible, Newt," you say, finally breaking down. A tear runs down your cheek. "Why? He was half insane."

He sighs. "It's the rules. Sometimes I hate them too, but they were made for a reason. Believe me, it was worse before they were around. And if we start making exceptions, the next time some shank decides to break one, they'll be pleadin' for mercy or making some bloody excuses as to why they should be exempt. We can't risk it, and we can't afford to become lax because sooner or later someone will break one of the rules because of it."

You nod. You can see where he's coming from, how life in the Glade would fall apart if the rules weren't enforced without exception, but you still hate them. For Ben, it hadn't been fair.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?" you mumble back.

"You okay?"

You aren't. You haven't been all day since the Banishing. How could you be?

"Yeah, I'm good," you say instead.

You hear him get up and walk to your hammock. Next thing you know, he's sitting beside you just like you had the night before. "I believe that as much as I believe the bloody Creators sent us up here for fun and games. It's okay to say you're not okay."

You nod. "Sorry."

He takes your hand, squeezing it in his. "Don't be. I've lied about the same thing so many times I've lost count. It's okay."

"Thanks, Newt," you say, offering him a small smile.

"You said that you'd be here for me and I'm going to be here for you, too. Good that?"

"Good that," you repeat.