CH. FORTY - FIVE
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"We got it." Joan comes rushing into the room where Ben lies, a syringe in her hands. "We got it, we got it, we got it."
It's a blue serum. Looks exactly like the cure she saw in her memories. They used only her blood because they know hers is able to cure, and they're not sure if Thomas is able to, too.
"Wait—" Clint stops her from inserting it in Ben's shaking body. "Are you sure this is gonna help?"
She shares a glance with Thomas. "...no. But it's the least we can do. This is a recipe I saw in the Changing. Is meant for something else, but the symptoms of that other thing are so similar to a Griever sting, that I have a feeling it might work."
"Okay, fine. More chance he survives," Jeff sighs. "Do it."
With a nod, she inserts the serum into Ben's arm. Watches him for a few seconds, but not much happens.
"Maybe we have to wait," Thomas says quickly.
She nods another time. "Yeah."
But when she gave herself that serum, all the black veins immediately vanished.
"What time is it?"
"Four o'clock," Clint announces.
A heavy breath leaves her mouth. Two hours left. She needs distraction in the meanwhile. "I'm gonna look for Camil and Chuck," she says. Without another word, she starts walking down the stairs.
Once she's at the bottom, she has to sit down for a second. Her. Freaking. Leg. After running around the whole day, ignoring the pain, it for sure shows now.
Then she gets back up, on her way to Camil. It's been a while since she had a good conversation with him.
She finds him in the kitchen. At first, she thinks he might've stolen a snack, but then she sees Fry at the counter, pouring steaming hot water into two cups.
"Oh, hi, Joan," the Cook greets. "Want a cup?"
"Yes, please," and her voice betrays her by cracking before she sits down across from Camil. Her hands reach for a small cardboard to fidget with.
Nope, this is definitely not gonna cheer her up.
"Thomas and I gave him a serum. I hope it works," she says quietly.
"I thought you didn't trust Thomas."
A shrug. "I don't really care at the moment. Gally didn't trust me at first either. And Ben's more important. Even though he yelled things at Thomas."
A silence falls. It's not uncomfortable, but neither is she at ease. Her eyes sting, begging for her to let go of tears, and something blocks her throat. Makes her want to sob. But she won't allow herself to. Not until she knows what's actually going to happen to Ben.
"Is Minho out of the Maze yet?" She wonders.
Ben's Minho's best friend. Always has been. As long as she remembers, at least.
And when she imagines Camil getting stung and having to Banish him, she feels like throwing up.
"No," Fry says. His voice has a crack in it, too. "Not yet."
Her heart sinks. She knows Alby will tell Minho, and she knows Minho will act as if it's nothing, and she knows he'll then pretend Ben never existed. It's horrible.
But maybe better. To forget and move on.
❀
It didn't work.
Clint says that a while ago, Ben started choking on his own blood, which was black, and Alby announces that he's not going to wait. That it's too late.
She can't stand it to watch. Chuck and Thomas and Camil are next to her, all watching as if it's a show or a funeral, and she really doesn't want to. But somehow, she'd feel like a coward if she doesn't watch.
The lump in her throat gets bigger by the time. She watches Alby yell for them to take their poles. Watches Ben cry and scream in agony. Beg for mercy. She watches the boys push Ben between the Doors, until he's forced to run into the Maze or he'll get crushed by the walls.
Maybe that would've been better. Then she wouldn't have to send the Grievers at him.
She knows she won't be able to sleep or find a good distraction; she'll be forced to kill Ben. Or to be the cause of his death, at least.
When the Doors close and the ground stops shaking, her stomach does an awful twist. Bile rises up her throat at Ben's last scream and before she knows it, she's running off into the woods, trying to hold it in before every Glader will see her vomit.
She's supposed to handle it. Controlling the Grievers, taking her own blood with needles, almost drowning just to get a few memories... but this is too much.
Joan has only made it to the edge of the woods when when she's on her knees, hands gripping in the dirt as the bare amount of food she ate a while ago comes out.
After a few minutes of heavy breathing and checking if more wants to leave her stomach, she wipes her mouth. Sits straight up, rubbing her eyes.
There's footsteps behind her. She recognizes them by the hardness of the shoes against the ground and the pace. Her assumption is confirmed when Gally pulls her into his arms, and then she can't the tears back any longer.
Without a word, he rocks them back and forth a bit. Rubs her back. Buries his face in her hair as he allows her to sob in his chest.
"I'm so—"
"Don't," he immediately cuts her off, whispering. "You did everything you could. Nothing's your fault."
She shakes her head, yet remains silent. The soft sniffs and cries continue for a while. By the time she had finished crying, she feels the exhaustion wash over her.
"I should probably go take a shower," she mumbles. "See you in my hut?"
"I'll bring you dinner," he says.
She gives a weak shrug. "I don't think I'm very hungry at the moment."
"To make sure."
❀
Once she has finished showering and let the last tears fall until her eyes felt raw, he's already in her hut. On her desk, there's a bowl of soup and a plate with mashed potatoes and a sausage.
The white bed sheets have been replaced by her pink ones again. She put them in the laundry a while ago. He must've changed them for her.
"What's that?" She wonders, throat dry from crying.
He looks down at the plush. "One of your first projects as a Tool-Maker. But then you put it in the laundry and kind of forgot about it."
"Oh." It forms the slightest warm feeling in her stomach. The plush is a pink heart, with little red strings on the sides. Like a pillow, basically. "Now I remember. It's been a while."
He nods. "Yeah. Come on, you should eat something. Try to, at least."
She takes the bowl of soup. Takes sips from it, not bothering to take a spoon, since her hands are already shaky. "Thank you, Gally."
"No problem." His thumb rubs circles over the back of her hand. "You feeling a bit better?"
A nod that's mixed with a shrug. "Could be better, but you know... and you?"
"Could be better, but you know," he replies.
With the tiniest smile, she leans against his shoulder. That smile fades when her lips are basically begging her to tell him... to tell him about everything. From controlling the Grievers to that cure— but she doesn't.
Maybe when things are calmer. Maybe then, she'll give him that shock.