Pasty's story [The Maze Runner]

27

Pasty was under constant supervision by the Medjacks. Minho has insisted that after her reappearance, it was necessary. Especially after she had a fit. But Pasty's fear was beginning to melt away, and her intrigue was peaking. She had questions, but no one seemed to be willing to answer them.

And Pasty was getting tired of it.

And then something happened.

There was a commotion outside. The Medjacks went outside to investigate, leaving Pasty alone. She crept away from her sickbed, bare feet scratched by the gnarly wooden floor. She peaked through the door, and saw Newt, Chuck, Teresa and the Medjacks hauling Thomas up the stairs. She flattened herself against the wall as they charged past, practically throwing Thomas down on the bed.

"What were you doing? How could you be so bloody stupid?" Newt spat at Thomas. Thomas squirmed on the bed.

"No...Newt...you don't understand..."

"Shut up! Don't waste your energy!" Newt turned to Pasty. "Come here. Make yourself useful."

Pasty rushed to Thomas' side, helping Newt to rip away Thomas' shirt with a knife. He checked for wounds frantically, and gave him a shot of the Serum. Teresa's face was distraught, but Pasty didn't have time to figure out if she was sympathetic for her sister. Thomas' next words were so quiet Pasty wasn't sure if she imagined them.

"Don't worry. I did it on purpose..."

***

Pasty made it her job to stay and care for Thomas. She felt there was nothing else she could do. She was still trying to figure out who she was, and what her memories meant. Being with Thomas at least meant she could avoid the others. Newt and Alby made a few appearances to check on Thomas, but Pasty didn't see anything of Minho.

At night when the Grievers came, taking people away, Pasty quivered beneath Thomas' sick bed, listening to the screams of Thomas and the victims of the Griever's. The bed above her would rock as Thomas writhed in agony, and she'd weep, hands covering her ears until the silence took over. The silence was almost worse. It haunted the Glade. It was the mourning period. And the period when the other Gladers got back on their feet.

But not Pasty.

And then after three days, Thomas stopped screaming. The Med Jacks waited beside him patiently, waiting for signs of life. But the only sign he was alive was the barely-there beat of his heart, giving out a feeble thud every few seconds.

Teresa came to see him that day. Pasty eyed her up suspiciously. They had barely spoken, but Pasty had a strong dislike for her anyway. Especially since she'd recalled her earlier memories of her.

Her sister.

Did Teresa know? Had anyone mentioned to her their uncanny resemblance? Pasty didn't know. She figured she must have some idea. She watched Teresa wipe Thomas' sweaty hair away from his head. You did this. You and Thomas and WICKED.

"Have you been keeping him cool? His temperature is pretty high."

"I pressed damp cloths on his head. The Med Jacks are due to check on him soon."

Teresa nodded absently, pressing her hand to Thomas' cheek. Pasty studied her with interest, and wondered if she was able to communicate with Teresa via telepathy again. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard.

Can you hear me?

She heard Teresa jump and smirked, opening her eyes. Teresa stared at her.