⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.*･｡..*･｡..*･｡.
——
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.*･｡. FLARES! .*･｡.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
[ kennedy didn't remember
but maybe,
with his help, she would. ]
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
——
BEFORE IT ALL BEGAN
"Say it with me," the boy coaxed her gently yet urgently, watching her eyes start to dim. The warmth was turning to cold, an icy glaze freezing its way over the deep green glass.
"Kennedy—" he pointed a finger towards Kennedy and sighed, "—Thomas—" then himself, "—we're fifteen years old."
She nodded, gingerly.
It was hard to keep focused on what he was saying. She'd found it hard to recall who he was, or even who she was. Her head hurt. It was thumping like no tomorrow, and she couldn't decide if her brain was going to explode, or not. Her attempts of staying at least remotely conscious were dwindling by the second, no matter how many time he gently tapped at her face, but never the less, she persisted, "I— I'm Kennedy," she slurred, "You— you're Thomas... and..." she paused, "...and we're fifteen years old."
"Good."
A breath passed Thomas' lips.
Good.
He took a moment to regain his composure. With a nod, he praised her again but his eyes flickered to the door as her head began to slump, falling onto her shoulder, and he had to hurriedly lift it back up when he had noticed. Thomas doubted that it was a very comfortable position.
Could she feel above her neck?
Each second passed sooner than the last, and the clock on the wall ticked away with threats. It would be mere minutes before the guards would arrive and expect the majority of her memory to have completely dissipated, and it would have.
In mere minutes, seconds perhaps, the girl wouldn't recall anything about her life; who she was before the experiments, how she had gotten there.
All of it would be lights and silhouettes, even at best.
But he had wanted her to remember something. Anything to make it easier for her — even if it didn't feel that way, at the time. She deserved to keep something small, something nobody would be able to take from her, something that was hers, and hers alone. They couldn't take it away from her, when she was inside. It would be all too late, to do anything about it.
He had figured that part of her name was a good place to start, if any.
It had to be her gifted name. Her real name, and everyone would get suspicious; he had to be slick about this. Kennedy it was.
"Again," he nodded in approval, "Again, Tot."
Her eyes flickered.
Recognition.
"I'm Kennedy," the girl muttered, the swipe taking its sweet time to ruin her thoughts and muddle all of her memories, "You're Thomas, we're— wait... ho— how old are we?" Her face twisted up in mild panic, "I— I can't remember," she hiccuped, "Why don't I remember anything?" In that moment, she looked so vulnerable. It was so different to how she had looked during training and tests, as if she were a different person to who she used to be, and he almost didn't recognise the girl in front of him. She was strong, and brave, and organised. Everything her brother wasn't. Thomas felt an urge, an indescribable one, to pull her close and assure that her it was all going to be fine. He wanted to console her; her eyes were wide and afraid, "I'm scared."
Cursing under his breath, Thomas momentarily cast his gaze to the monitor before placing it back on her. Her vitals were rising and falling, the brain activity showing that it was beginning to shut down. All apart from one section.
He needed that section to stay lit. If it was the last thing he ever did, Thomas needed that damn section to stay perfectly lit up.
Noticing her eyes begin to water, and the way that her lip quivered, the boy reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. She was confused as to why she'd appreciated the touch, and why she had thought that she might not have appreciated it, and she was just as confused about everything else in between. It was all a hazy beam, endless emptiness, nothing but silhouettes and shadows; like things that should've been there and made sense, were not, and no longer did. It was all hazy, and it scared her.
"Hey— it's okay," the word served as not only a comfort to the helpless girl, but to his own sanity also. Thomas was losing her. She would be gone. "It's okay— we're fifteen. Can you remember?"
Kennedy wanted to nod, but her body was limp.
"Fifteen," she said.
"Fifteen."
"Fifteen," the girl repeated in solidarity.
She needed to remember.
She had to remember.
"Good," he forced a smile, "That's really good, you hear that? Kennedy, Thomas, we're both fifteen years old."
All of it was so very bittersweet. It was quite selfish of him, really, Thomas would have to admit. Originally he had wanted her to remember her own name, just her name would do. Though, as the time went on and the daunting fate drew closer, Thomas really couldn't help himself. He'd wanted the girl to remember him, all of him, to remember his presence and his touch. Even if it'd mean nothing to her then, just as it didn't now.
And, it didn't mean anything. The pair hadn't been close during their time at WICKED. After all, they were both from two different kinds. Kennedy was a mere lab rat, and Thomas was the one studying her.
From his time observing her through the many years, he had grown attached to the brunette, despite hardly talking to her — at least, no more than to tell her that it was time to for another trial, another experiment, another poke and prod. Unknowingly to them both, the boy had become... fond of the fiery girl. She hadn't always been so fiery; she been sweet, even innocent at points, yet they soon learnt that her personality was a complete blaze; a spit-fire, a burning haze of oranges and reds. As if she remained so calm and tranquil until the time was right, until she was ready to set off.
Kennedy was a flare, and Thomas was absolutely blinded by her light.
But now the time had arrived, the day that she was being sent into the maze with the other few who had been chosen. She was early in going, joining the girls who had already began to plan a society of sorts. Everything had changed.
It was this very day that Thomas had realised how tough it was to let her go, although there never been a thing between them.
There had been nothing. No special interactions, no shiny golden ribbon tying them together. Yet for some reason, it felt as if there was. Thomas couldn't quite live with himself, knowing that he could have stopped this, knowing that he could've tried to make an appreciated difference to this crazy world around him.
Thomas could've stopped this.
But he didn't.
Instead, he had made a deal with her brother — he made a deal to keep her safe, to keep her alive, to keep her in one piece, until he was able to see her again. Thomas had made that deal, in perfect knowledge of the fate her brother would soon get, and he'd decided he had to fulfil it. He wanted her to remember; maybe not any big details, just a few names, no matter how long it would take to drill it into her. She would hate him, if she knew. Thomas knew she probably hated him already.
Both him and her brother, if she remembered enough.
He was glad that she wouldn't.
"Kennedy, Thomas..." she breathed, "Fifteen years old."
In seconds that felt like years, had the three guards thrust themselves into the room, the door striking like a grenade. Blindly ignoring the little proximity between the two — the two beings that were so drastically different, that none would ever expect them to become one — the men dove in between their huddling and the girl was lifted, then dragged toward the exit of the room. All three treated her like a rag doll, throwing her about like she was no more than an inconvenience to them, and Thomas wanted desperately to tell them to stop. Let her go, his heart begged, leave her alone! But in that moment, his mind spoke louder than words, and he didn't say anything. Rather, he could only stand and watch her go, because it would be the last time he saw her: dragged away, helpless, empty. In that last time, Thomas hoped he would never have to see her, again.
He wasn't sure he could face her.
Not with his guilt.
She had faded into a blur, soon enough. He could hardly even see her. Thomas was almost glad.
Little did they know, that wasn't the last time he would see Kennedy. Thomas would see her again, sometime soon, and there would be no memories between them. He wouldn't know that he'd done this to her, nor would she, and they'd start from scratch. New.
They had no idea what was coming to them.
"I'm Kennedy, you're Thomas—" Kennedy frowned, lashes fluttering in an attempt to close.
He grew far out of sight.
"—and we're fifteen years old."
——
—in which tot
( the wrong jones! ) was
sent into the wrong
maze.
or
—kennedy was one of the first ten sent into the maze.
she spent every day longing for something, something that she couldn't identify, and those days made up several years that only continued to pass. all this time, she was missing pieces of her. like pieces of a puzzle that she was yet to solve.
——
—dedications
let me know if you want a dedication
for your maze runner books!
━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━
i don't own any of the maze runner characters, other than my own. the plot line is not mine, but i do take credit for adjustments, dynamics, and interactions between characters that i fabricated myself. my characters are not based upon anything other than my own imagination — any similarities between this book and other work of fiction is merely coincidental.
TRIGGER WARNING
graphic details of blood and injury,
mentions of violence and war;
death, grief, weaponry.
NO ORIGINAL GIFS ARE MINE
I TAKE NO CREDIT FOR GIFS I DID NOT MAKE
——
.*･｡..*･｡..*･｡.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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