Good Grief (TMR fic)

Chapter 12

The Med-jacks haul the girl out of the box, and Alby drags Thomas and me through the Gladers to where she's laying on the grass. Her hair is long and black, and her skin is so pale that it's almost eerie. She's beautiful, but that almost makes my skin crawl more. She's so still...

"Great," I say. "Like we didn't have enough dead bodies. They had to send us more."

"Do you recognize her?" Alby asks, his tone fierce.

I study her face, trying to spark a memory. "No. She's sure freaky, though."

"I think she looks peaceful," Thomas says, and I give him a weirded-out look. "I don't know her, though. She's not familiar at all."

"Are you-"

Alby's voice cuts off suddenly when the girl's shockingly blue eyes fly open and she sits up with a deep gasp of air. I jolt backwards into Newt, my head cracking into his chin.

"Ow," he mutters, but we all ignore him.

The girl speaks.

"Everything is going to change," she says, and then she collapses, her eyes rolling back into her head. This time, though, she's breathing. Her position is less stiff, as well.

"What was the bloody meaning of that?" Newt asks as he pushes past me to the girl's side. "Everything is going to change? That's a sweet message from the Creators for us."

My eyes catch on something. "Newt."

He looks up at me.

"There. In her hand."

He glances down and then pulls a piece of paper out of her grip. He reads it, and if anything, his expression is even more grim.

"It says she's the last one. Ever."

One of the Med-jacks is examining the girl, and Gladers are having murmuring conversations all around me. I ignore them.

Why would the Creators stop sending Greenies? Are they out of them? Or is it something else?

If there aren't new Gladers, then we'll slowly dwindle away as we die off, one by one. Unless... unless we get out. Now is our best chance of escape, before our numbers start getting lower.

I need to be a Runner.

Hopefully Thomas is right, and he'll be able to find a way out that they haven't considered. He's stupid enough to do something dangerous, so it is possible.

The Med-jacks carry the girl to the Homestead. I'm still frozen, trying to process. As everyone returns to their jobs, I jog towards the Deadheads. I'm not pushing myself, but I like running. It makes me feel like I have a chance of being useful, of getting us out.

I've sat in my tree for probably ten minutes when he comes. Newt.

"Do I come up or do you come down?"

I smile a little. "Meet me halfway?"

He grins to himself, and starts to climb. We settle on a branch closer to the ground.

Newt looks at me. "How are you holding up?"

"I don't know. Besides, I should really be asking you. You've been here longer than I have; it changes your life more."

He looks out at the trees around us. "I guess I always knew it was coming. This wasn't ever a permanent situation, right? I mean, I never really could imagine us growing old here. Time's up. We'll be fine for a while, but the fewer of us that there are, the harder it is to survive. Eventually our losses will catch up with us and we won't be able to send Runners. After that point... well, there isn't a point, is there?"

"Is there a point now? I know there isn't an exit to the Maze." I'm taking a gamble, but I'm pretty sure that I'm right. He sighs a little and nods, and my theory is confirmed.

"Yeah. There isn't. But maybe one day there will be. Besides, most of the Gladers don't know that. The ones that do are kept going with the hope that someday it's going to be different."

"There has to be a reason, though," I say, almost to myself. "There has to be a reason that Thomas, the girl and I are the last ones sent. There's something about him... He won't stop hoping, Newt. Somehow he's stupid enough to keep hoping even when he knows the truth. Maybe that's what we need. I don't know what's special about me, or the girl, but there must be something about us as well. Maybe we're finally ready to escape."

He stares at me for a long moment. "I hope so, Ash. I hope so."

Newt starts humming, and I watch him curiously.

"What song is that?"

The tips of his ears turn red. "I don't really know. Somehow I'm the only Glader who remembers music from before. Nick locked me up in our first Slammer for a week when he realized, but they eventually decided songs were harmless, and they trusted me that I didn't remember anything else."

"I want to hear it, if you don't mind," I say, quietly.

His voice is soft when he starts, but there's something haunting in the song, something that pierces into my heart and leaves me breathless.

When I watch the world burn, all I think about is you...
Well it shucked me up when I fell for you,
I shouldn't have let me fall for you...
The world is ending on the news,
But here in my head I'm drunk on you...
My love, my love, unrequited...
My love, my love, undecided...
When I watch the world burn, all I think about is you...

My eyes are closed when he finishes, trying to absorb the last of the emotions that his song gave me.

"That was... Thank you, Newt."

When I open my eyes, I see that his ears are still pink, and he's ducking his head away from me.

"Do you want to go see Ben?" he asks out of nowhere, and I blink. Apparently he's not used to taking compliments.

"Of course I do, but I thought I wasn't allowed to," I say, with a confused frown.

He looks up at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You aren't the Greenie anymore."

~~
A/N: Here's the first Bastille song, the demo track "When I Watch The World Burn All I Think About Is You," and the inspiration for the name of this series (As We Watch the World Burn).