Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)

Twenty-Five: Don't Say 'Crank', You Shank

A/N: Sorry, this isn't a very fun update, but it has some plot, and hopefully the next chapter will be sassier and filled with more Trace-like comments.

"What's going on?" Trace asked Newt, eager to hear his opinion. She'd just stepped out of the Homestead as he was heading into it. Rather convenient timing, actually.

"We've been living in a bloody lie, that's what. The sky was never there, was it? It was all just some elaborate illusion. We're well and truly trapped from all directions."

Trace sighed and placed a hand on Newt's shoulder, intending to console him. He shook it off.

"You wouldn't understand, Trace. You haven't even been here a month. You wouldn't understand." He didn't say it angrily- he sounded more dejected than anything else- but Newt's words still stung. Of course Trace didn't understand; she never would. But she could empathise.

Before she could respond, Newt had wandered off to speak to a group of boys near the kitchen.

She jumped suddenly at the raspy voice that appearing behind her. "Having a good time with old cranky-pants over there?"

Gally.

"Do not call him that, Gally. Do not call him that," Trace glared, stepping closer so that she was face-to-face with him.

"I'll stop calling him that when he stops being such a cranky-pants," Gally smirked.

Trace gritted her teeth. "Listen here, shuckface. Ever thought that being horrible actually does more harm than good? Ever actually considered being nice for once? Just once? Have you ever considered that?"

Gally's smirk died. "I have. Just not about you."

"What's your problem with me, Gally? Why do you hate me?"

"What's my problem with you?" Gally was fuming. He grabbed Trace by the arm and pulled her around the corner, to the back of the Homestead where nobody could see them. Suddenly Trace felt very vulnerable. Very vulnerable. He held her against the Homestead wall, glaring down at her, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly.

"My problem with you is that you know a whole lot more than you let on. A whole shucking lot more. I've seen glimpses of it in the Changing, you know. I've seen who you were. I doubted it at first but you came here knowing klunk without us having to tell you. You're a traitor, Trace."

"Get off me!" she squirmed in his grasp.

"How about you tell me what's going on here? How much do you know?" he growled, spitting in her face as he spoke.

"Gally, let me go!"

"Not until-"

"Hey, shuckface! She said 'let go'!"

Trace turned to see Minho arriving with Thomas in tow. He shoved Gally away the second he reached the two of them. Trace had never been happier to see Minho in her life. And that sure was saying something.

"Fine," Gally said. "If you wanna take her side, go ahead. She'll probably just end up turning on you anyway." He stomped away, heading towards the commotion in the centre of the Glade. Trace took a deep breath, unable to stop her hands from shaking.

"What did he say to you?" Thomas asked.

Trace didn't answer.

"Trace?"

"It doesn't matter. Not now. We need to run the maze, right Minho?"

Minho was taken aback by her insight. Of course they had to run the maze, though. Things might have changed.

And Trace knew what they'd discover if they went out there today.

"Mhm. Sure," he grudgingly agreed. But you better tell us what's going on the second we get back. Secrets don't last long around here."

Traced nodded, but inside she was panicking. How much should she tell them? Everything? Anything? It was hard to tell what would help and what would hinder them. She pondered it as they got ready to go, then was overcome by a wave of realisation:

She wouldn't have to tell them anything. They'd have more important things to worry about once they got back. Like the Griever hole. Like Teresa. Like the closing of the maze doors.

She doubted they'd have time to recount Trace's conversation with Gally during all of that.

They headed off into the maze, more alert than ever. Minho led the pack, while Thomas and Trace flanked him on either side. This time, they said nothing, concentrating entirely on the task at hand. That, and the grey ceiling, looming ominously above them now. It sure did make everything seem so much more urgent.

It was when they reached the end of Section 6 that they saw it. A Griever.

"Shh!" Minho said, stopping suddenly and pulling the others back with him. "Up there!"

Trace could just make out the figure ahead. It was stationary, but that didn't stop her from feeling like it could attack at any moment; it was still just as dangerous.

"What do we do?" Thomas asked.

"We have to go through there to get to seven," Minho explained. "So, we'll follow it for a bit, see what it does. Then we'll keep going with the route."

He didn't wait for an answer, because right at that moment, the Griever roared to life, heading in the opposite direction from them, down a distant corridor. Minho took off after it, and Trace and Thomas followed suite.

They reached the corridor in time to see the Griever's tail disappear ahead, and chased its path again, continuing this until they reached the corridor leading to the Cliff. Trace knew what would happen next, but it didn't stop her from being just as amazed as she had been while reading it for the first time.

The Griever disappeared over the edge, and when they got close enough to look, the Griever was nowhere in sight; it had simply disappeared. It had vanished.

And Trace knew for sure that she'd take the same route soon enough.

Soon, they would escape the maze.