World Gone Mad (TMR fic 3)

Chapter 26

(song~)

"Meeting time, lovebirds," Minho says from the doorway, and I sit up with a scowl. I hadn't fallen back asleep, but it had been nice resting against Newt.

"Yeah, yeah," Newt mumbles, and we follow him out to a larger room where Brenda and Jorge are sitting with Thomas.

"We're currently in hiding," Jorge is saying. The Berg must have landed while I was asleep, and I feel like an idiot for not having noticed when I woke up. "But we can't just hang out here forever. We need to find somewhere we can blend back into society. Get jobs, become unnoticeable."

"What about WICKED?" Minho butts in. "They can control us, and I'm sorry to inconvenience you but I don't like the idea of them being able to make me tap dance whenever they want."

I glance at Newt, wanting to share some amusement with him at the image of Minho tap dancing, but he's staring at the floor in irritation.

"There's a doctor in Denver," Brenda says. She still looks tired from the Launcher. "He worked for WICKED until he decided they were unethical. He could do the necessary surgeries."

Thomas gets visibly interested. "He can keep WICKED from controlling us? That sounds really important."

Jorge nods. "It's a bit of an obvious choice, but Denver is one of the last ten cities not overrun by the Flare. There aren't really choices that aren't obvious."

"Guess that's the best option, then," Thomas says, and Minho nods.

Newt is getting more and more fierce-looking, and as soon as the conversation seems wrapped up he stomps out of the room.

I don't chase after him. Not yet. I need to talk with Minho before I figure out what's bothering Newt. Well, besides the fact that he's dying.

The Runner seems to know what I'm thinking. As everyone else leaves he stays on the couch, turning his watch on his wrist with fierce, harsh motions. I sigh, and go to sit next to him.

"Well?" He's clenching his jaw as he waits for me to answer, the muscles working.

I take a moment to collect myself. I can't approach Minho like I would with Newt. I'm not good at this, but I have to try. I might not be alive if Minho hadn't protected me so aggressively when I thought Newt had died; I need him and I want to talk with him.

With Newt dying, Minho might be the only person who can really comfort me.

"We're a long way from the Glade," I say, my voice small. It surprises me, how fragile I sound.

Minho looks up, a strand of his hair falling into his eyes. "Yeah. Ash... are you okay?"

I hadn't expected his change of tone, the softness that slipped into his voice, or the earnestness in his expression. "I... don't know."

Then I face it. I force myself to admit everything I've been hiding from.

Newt has the Flare. He's actually, genuinely dying. Even if WICKED was close to a cure, they can't make one now. Not without us. The world, from my memories, is crumbling as it stands. We're alone, hunted by the most powerful organization on earth. I'm a murderer who chooses revenge over my friends. And Newt is dying.

This time I know it's not any lingering drugs making me cry. I bend over and rest my forehead on my knees as I softly sob. Minho rests a hand on my shoulder, a subtle comfort. He takes a shaking inhale, and I realize that he's crying as well.

We sit together, trying to share our pain.

"I don't know," he says, pausing to give an empty chuckle, "I don't know how I can live without him."

I laugh slightly from the pain as I sit up, my face wet. "Me either."

"Yeah. I can't imagine what it's like for you, Ash... He's my best friend, but you're so close to him..."

"We both are." My voice cracks embarrassingly. "In different ways, we both are. I know it's awful for you, too."

He nods, and the pain in his eyes breaks my heart even more.

"Thank you, Ash," he says, clumsily standing and helping me to my feet. I hug him tightly for a second.

"You're welcome. We're... we're going to be okay, Minho, all right? We'll figure this out."

"Okay. Now go tell him that." His smile is bittersweet, and I nod.

"I will."