SUPERSTES// Maze Runner Newt fanfiction (page 250 sequel)

12

A knock on the door startles me. Apparently, I had fallen asleep while watching. I rise and open the door. "Good afternoon, Newt," Dr. Whitman says. "Have you opened a freezer in there?!" she asks with a laugh, but I find her arms crossing and a slight shiver in her voice. Startled, I freeze in my place for a second. "Aren't you letting me in?" she asks after a while.

"Y-yes. Yes," I answer after a moment of daze, and I go to the side to open the way for her. She looks around the room for a while and then gasps, "You've got a bloody mess in here, Newt!" I tighten my lips. After that, she says with a sigh, "Just go wash your face. I need to talk with you about something."

I nod and go into the bathroom. I wash my face with cold water to throw away sleep. I dry myself and then go out. Dr. Whitman has opened up the curtains, filling the room with yellow light from the falling sun. She has made the bed, hanged the jacket behind the door, and placed my shoes neatly. When I enter, the screen is getting drawn back into the ceiling. For a while, I feel ashamed of myself. I find her sitting on the couch, her legs neatly crossed, and her hands twitching in her lap. I feel awkward. I ask her, trying to fix my situation, "Would you like to drink anything? There's tea here." I hope she will say no. I have no bloody idea how to use this water boiling thing.

"Just come and sit. I want to talk to you."

I sit. She clenches her hands, and I find her lips twitching. "Did anything wrong happen?" I ask with a trembling voice. She turns to me. "N-no. Not at all. Everything is alright. There is nothing to worry about."

"What is there then?"

Dr. Whitman tightens her lips and takes a deep breath. "Newt, do you remember anything from your past?"

I stare at her. I try to think of an answer. I try to dig deep in my brain to find something. I stay concentrated for so long that my head starts aching. "No," I answer then.

"Nothing at all, Newt?"

I think again. "Sometimes I feel I remember shadows, but no faces. I remember scenes, clips, but no events. I don't remember anything. The only thing I remember for sure from before the glade is my name."

Dr. Whitman tightens her lips. I feel a tear in her eyes. I then remember she had said that she was a part of WICKED before. "Isn't this what WICKED wanted?" I ask her.

"It was what the psyches wanted," she corrects me with a dry voice. I sense anger in it. "Most of the psyches were psychos. Newt, you have to know that not all WICKED was bad. It's hard to explain it after all that you've been through. You have to know that some people there were good, victims, just like you. I'm glad that WICKED is no longer, but I never can forget that innocents were gone in that explosion."

I turn away. If she is asking for my forgiveness for those shuck faces, she can rest. WICKED killed our parents, stole our lives, treated us like lab rats, and killed many of us like we're only flies, all for their shucking cure. I have watched Chuck, a child, getting killed while they watched with cold blood. George, Ben, Alby and so many others I can't count have given up their lives on the hands of grievers they made, not to mention Winston and all those who died in the Scorch. And if anything has happened to my friends, it's upon them too. WICKED is good? In their shucking dreams.

"I know that you don't like this, kid," she adds, "and I understand you. If I were in your place, I would-"

"You're not," I answer, trying to hide the rage in my voice. I see my veins plumping on my clenched fists. Dr. Whitman tries to take my hands in hers, but I tear mine away. I feel tears in her eyes. I feel her about to sob or break into something, but she pulls herself together and stays firm.

"But, Newt," she says with a hardly pulled together voice. "Forget about WICKED for a while. Don't judge us now according to our past. Have you seen anything wrong from us here till now? From me?"

I don't answer her and stay quiet. "Newt, I know that it was unfair. It was all unfair. I was unfair myself. But, things have changed. We all have changed. Things can get better."

"How," I ask her with a laugh, trying to pull my own tears back. "Will you return Chuck or Alby back? Will you get my parents that WICKED killed back? Will you give me the years that I have spent like a lab rat back?"

I see a tear trickling down her face. I feel a thousand words in her eyes. She then rises from her place. "I'm sorry about them all, Newt. I really am. I know that there is nothing we can do about them. But remember that you're still alive, and well, and a miracle. You're our Superstes, Newt."

"You saved a person who didn't want to be saved. What is the use of life for me?"

"Life might mean nothing for you, Newt, but you are life for some people," Dr. Whitman whispers. She takes a deep breath and then says, "If you don't feel like showing on dinner tonight, it is up to you. Tomorrow morning, we will run few tests that will determine if you can travel or not. You have to be fasting till then." After that, she leaves the room.