CH. FORTY - NINE┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
When she awakes, it's still in the Box. With an aching body from last night. An empty stomach. Not from the lack of food, but from the feeling as if something's missing. But she doubts they've managed to kill Grievers. It's one) very hard and two) her pain would've been ten times worse.
A pillow and a blanket surround her, but that's about it. No Gally, or any of the Builders that were in this thing last night.
As memories return, she climbs out of the Box. Newt definitely no longer enjoyed her company. Will the rest feel as betrayed? Only because she knows the Glade is a safer place than anything else?
If the Grievers keep coming, though..
Once out of the Box, she looks around.
Everything has been destroyed. Huts have either completely burned down or knocked over by Grievers. The Homestead finally gave up standing. Her hut is destroyed.
She walks over to it, attempting to swallow the lump in her throat away. Her chemicals, gone. Pillows, gone. Notebooks, gone. Clothes, gone.
It's just a mess. Wood stacked on top of each other and little hints of burned paper here and there.
The only thing that she assumes isn't ruined, are the Slammers. They're in the ground. And behind the Homestead, so not much Grievers would've tried to get there, she guesses.
Quickly, she makes her way to them. Maybe too quickly, because before she knows it, she has reunited with Camil, Minho, Newt, and Chuck.
They all stare at each other for a while. Then her eyes trail to the Slammer. Since they're sitting in front of it, someone must be in there.
"Don't bother," Minho says. "It's Thomas and Teresa. The ones who know how to escape, remember? Not very interesting for you."
Her jaw clenches. "Hey— do y'all seriously think I send those Grievers at you? Last night?"
"I think that's exactly what you did. Heard Thomas found a way out, and got pissed at us. Send them here."
Slowly, her jaw unclenches and it drops. "Minho, you've known me for a year and a half. I've known you for a year and a half. Why would I want to hurt you while we're friends? All of us?"
"Friends don't lie for over a year," Newt snaps. "We could've escaped such a long time ago."
"The outside world is destroyed! There's nothing left there to live for," she grunts. "Maybe you're wrong, too. If it's not an exit, you'll all die anyways. It's safer here."
"Not if the Grievers come out every day," Minho replies. "So stop them from doing so."
"After he," she motions at the Slammer, "killed one of them, I can no longer control them. Oh, you might've not been there, but Newt and Chuck saw what pain that caused me. I was out for three days. And when I woke, y'all suddenly figured a way out. Y'all got angry at me somewhat immediately while I was trying to understand, and not a single time, not once, did someone bother to even ask how I was feeling."
Camil and Newt share a glance before Newt speaks, "Okay. You're right about that. We could've asked how you were doing or if you still had pain."
"Please just hear me out first," she begs. "I swear, I'll tell everything. Since you're planning to escape anyways."
"Fine," Minho says. "But just so you know, Gally locked Thomas and Teresa up there. He took shucking lead. He's planning to banish us into the Maze."
"What about Alby, then?"
When they all share another glance, she knows something is wrong.
"He got taken away by a Griever," Newt says quietly. "And Clint. Zart. Chuck almost got taken. Hank, Eric, Joe, Lee. Jim tried saving Alfred, but then he got taken with him. Maybe more, I haven't counted."
Her chest tightens until she can't breathe, yet she forces herself to. She can't go play the victim right now.
Neither does she want to explain how it can't be her fault that they're dead, because it feels wrong. After so many deaths, to start saying she had nothing to do with it.
Then she does start explaining. From what she saw in the Changing, to the things in the Lake, WCKD, the Flare, her parents, her mother's name, how she found out about the Grievers, and then why she mislead them.
Once she finishes, she has to blink tears away. Summed up like this, it doesn't sound like she's the villain... or does it? She really did think she was doing them a favor. Because she was... she hopes.
The four boys stare at her for a while. Camil looks betrayed, but not angry. Chuck looks at her in awe, his eyes big. Newt's frowning, but neither does he seem as angry. She can't read Minho, as always.
"Okay," the Runner says. "I'll believe you. On a few conditions."
"Which are?"
"You're gonna tell your boyfriend to suck it up and let us escape. You're going to free Thomas and Teresa out of here. You're gonna let us escape and not interfere unless you also want to escape. So whatever you can do with the Grievers, don't. I'll personally come freaking back and make sure—"
"We get it," Newt interrupts. "She told me us can no longer control them anyways."
"And you believe—"
"She's been our friend for over a year, Minho. We can't just give all of that up over this."
"She made all my Runners quit. She made me believe I was a—"
"I agree to the conditions," she cuts him off, absolutely not wanting to hear what she made him feel like. She might deserve to hear that pain, but she doesn't want to. "All of them."
Chuck's eyebrows furrow. "But that day you collapsed, when Thomas killed a Griever, and you started choking on blood—" he stops. Looks up at her in fear. "If we try to escape and kill more Grievers, it won't kill you, right?"
"You're leaving me behind anyways. You won't have to worry," she assures. It comes a surprise that she manages to keep her voice steady; a lump is forming at the thought of dying. She doesn't want to die.
And honestly, she doesn't want to leave all her friends behind.
She has the knowledge about the outside world. They don't. She could help, if only Gally comes with them, too. She's not going without him.
"Why don't you come with us?" Camil asks. "And I know Gally wants to stay, and you'll stay with him, but I also know you'll be able to convince him."
She scoffs. "He locked Thomas and Teresa up. He has taken lead, doing the exact opposite of what Alby would do, while Gally really liked Alby. Those things prove he wants to stay. For sure. I can't convince him."
"I think you can," even Chuck insists.
"Either way, you're gonna make him allow us to leave without the whole Banishment. Use your manipulation skills, Greenette."
She manages a small smile at that. "Okay. Fine."
She knows that unless some kind of miracle happens, she won't even make it across the cliff. The chance is small that she escapes.
If the others do, she wants to keep them as safe as possible. There must be a way to do that, too.
"How did Gally get Thomas in the Slammer, though?" She frowns. "I thought you were fast and strong, Thomas."
"I stung myself," he announces from inside the Slammer. "I remember quite a lot."
"Ah. You built the Maze, didn't you?"
"...yes."
"Any visions of you watching the Glade? With Chuck and I?"
"Also that, yeah. And I worked with your mother for a while. She had the name Mary Cooper on her shirt, at least."
"That's possible," she replies. "Anyway— if this doesn't work, if I don't manage to convince Gally and he tries to beat you up, just kick him in the back of the knees. He won't like that."
"It's not exactly healthy to turn people against your own boyfriend."
"Well, he's gonna listen to me, or else he will get kicked. We can agree we have the right to manipulate him in this situation."
Crazy how fast her opinions can change, but alright.
"Now I shall finally go convince him," she decides. "Hold it up, Thomas and Teresa. Will be back!"
"Crazy woman."
She spins around at Minho's murmur. "Sorry?"
"Lovely woman," he says quickly, coughing. "You're super lovely. Especially that one time you almost blew my hut up."
Smiling a little brighter, she makes her way to Gally. It's not hard. She finds him already repairing a few things.
"Hey," she greets. Then she continues, not allowing him to speak. "Locking Thomas and Teresa up almost crosses the line. But banishing them?"
"Didn't you spend like a year to keep them from escaping?"
"Well, yes, but now we haven't gotten much of a choice. I failed, and we're not banishing them. That's a harsh way of saying goodbye."
"Neither of us are the kindest people in the Glade. Not a big deal."
She sighs. "Alright, listen up— I'm planning to go with them. And you're coming with me."
If he had water in his mouth, he would've choked. "Sorry? You're what?"
"Escaping," she repeats. "And you're coming with me."
"If I don't go, you'll stay, too. I know that."
True.
"So if I want to stay, you'll also stay. And I want to stay. With you, here."
Joan steps onto a tree trunk so she can be face to face with him, and hums. "And what if I leave?"
His Adam's apple moves. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, really? I could just follow them," she says. Her head tilts to the side.
"Your ankle's broken. Camil will likely stay, too. How will he even manage to get past those Grievers in a wheelchair?"
Her jaw clenches. He indeed might've gone a little too far with this.
"Well, you know..." She takes ahold of his arms so she won't fall over. The touch sends tingles to her stomach, but she ignores it. "I could push him," she says slowly. "I could run as I push him. Wait as Thomas, with that smart brain of his, and Minho, with those muscles, beat all the Grievers. Push Camil to the exit. Escape with them..."
A dreamy breath, yet fake breath leaves her mouth. "Perhaps Newt will buy me a cat. Or does he seem like a dog person to you? I'd have so much baking with Fry in my house everyday. The house I'll share with Chuck, whom shall help me paint my walls. What about navy blue? Or keep it pink?"
The girl bites the inside of her cheek, keeping herself from grinning.
"To the beach with Winston everyday, maybe? I'll cook meat with him in the evening. And I'll get a dozen pillows, hugging them in my arms every night. Maybe some of your Builders come with. They could teach me how to build a steady, big house. Kingsize bed. To share with Chuck, so he won't have to sleep in a hammock. Minho and I could go on a run every morning, and—"
"Stop," he grits out.
"—drink the tea Newt made us. What do you think's better? A cat or a dog? Navy blue or pink? Big or small house? How many pillows? You liked flowers, right? Newt and I will plant those in the garden's too. Maybe there's a grandma to teach me how to decorate things even better. The sage green one with flowers wasn't that—"
"Fine," he cuts her off, snappy and annoyed. "I'll come freaking with you. Just, please, shut the hell up about what you're gonna do with the rest of the Gladers when I'm not there."
A satisfied smile prints on her lips. "Awesome!"