It was dawn when Clara finally left.

She had stopped crying an hour ago, just staring down at Tris' lifeless body, stroking her hair like that would make her come back. Her skin had gone pale, her body cooling. Snow was beginning to settle on her limbs.

Clara swallowed again. She didn't want to leave Tris here, but she had nowhere to take the body-- there was no way she could carry it.

So she left, every step leaden. She left her boxmate, her friend, and her sister, behind in the alley, wrapped in Clara's winter jacket and a surgical gown. The empty tranquillizer lay next to her in the dim dawn light.

What else could she do?

Clara turned back, looking one last time at Tris' body, alone and covered in snow, before squeezing her stinging eyes shut and walking away.

Her heart pounded as she broke into a run. She had spent more time than she had thought with Tris, and if she wasn't quick, she would be left behind.

Grief dragged at her like a heavyweight, pulling every step as she sprinted through a massive square, towards the underground meeting point. It threatened to pull her under. She wanted to collapse, leave her body to be torn apart by the protesters and vigilantes and cranks that were beginning to appear in the city.

It turned out that the rebellion had worked. Smoke was beginning to clog the air, and she choked on it as she ran, her good eye streaming. The tallest buildings in the city were burning, and Clara could've sworn that an explosion shook the ground earlier as another one toppled to the ground.

The WICKED building was still standing against the slowly rising sun, its logo like an evil eye watching her as she ran past the crowd of citizens trying to escape. The air was thick, crawling inside her like a heady drug. She was so close to the final freedom, so close to everything that she had gone into and come out of the maze for, and she was losing everyone and everything she had done it for.

Each footstep hit the group, the cold wind ripping at her thermal shirt. She could feel the chill on her face, the wind threatening to rip away her black eye patch-- she had only just gotten used to the maddening sense of fabric on her face constantly; she'd be damned if it was taken.

Clara tore around the final corner, near the outskirts of the city, and her heart sighed as she saw the city bus lurking nearby.

She stopped at the edge of the alley as an unexpected wave of guilt rose. Tris was supposed to be here, and Clara had left her alone and dead in an alley. They had been so close. Clara had been so close.

Like a ghost, she watched the figures moving inside the bus. The kids were all there, and she was fairly certain that she could make out Leo, Gally, and Brenda. Jorge was walking up and down the ramp to a berg the rebellion had loaned them.

Clara had doubts they'd ever get it back.

Clara stood there, swaying slightly, watching the figures. What would she say to them? She had been unable to save Tris-- and she had been so close.

Clara blinked through the impending haze in her eye.

Minho climbed off the bus and glanced toward the end of the alley-- where she stood like a ghost. Clara had half a mind to wonder why he was alone when he began to run towards her. At least he was healthy enough to run.

He caught her as she crumpled to the ground, sobbing again. Leo appeared behind him, crouching next to them. Over Minho's shoulder, Clara could see the fear in Leo's eyes.

She shoved Minho off, lunging for Leo. "You knew!"

They toppled to the ground, and Clara was faintly aware of Minho grabbing the collar of her shirt, and pulling her back. She thrashed, trying to get to Leo, who sat on the ground like a wounded puppy, staring up at her with wide eyes.

She descended into sobs again. "You knew and you didn't tell me,"

Clara could see the kids on the mus milling, turning to look through the window at the three of them. Gally and Brenda took a few steps towards them. Fuck, she had to hide the fear, the anger, the exhaustion from the kids. They needed a leader, and she couldn't let them see her fall apart.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered. She could see now that Leo was crying, his eyes gleaming in the dim morning light, cutting through the snow.

"I'm so sorry," Leo responded. "I wanted to, but Tris begged me not to. She told me to make sure you never found out. She wanted you never to know."

Despite the pain in her eyes from hours of tears, Clara found herself crying again. She shrugged Minho's grip off of her-- it was loose anyway, just enough to make sure she wasn't going to kill Leo-- and stepped forward.

She and Leo hugged, tightly. The two remaining original members of their maze. The only ones who had made it this far. They had both lost their boxmates and yet were still standing, here at the end.

Clara pressed her lips together, squeezing Leo tight. Underneath the scent of dust and sweat and the various other things they had encountered over the past few days, she could smell the Glade and the maze, and despite everything, she could smell home.

She pulled back finally, swiping at her eye. "You need a shower,"

Leo let out a laughing sob. "So do you,"

They leaned on each other, following Minho back to the bus and the kids. Brenda and Galy greeted them.

"Where is Thomas? And Newt?" Clara asked, scanning their ragtag group.

Brenda and Minho exchanged a glance before Brenda spoke. "Newt didn't make it, Thomas went back to WICKED."

Clara's heart sank again, and she opened her mouth to respond. but was cut off.

A massive explosion rattled the ground and instinctively, she ducked, twisting back to look in the direction it had come from. In the distance, Clara could see a rush of flames shooting upwards from the WICKED building. Someone had dropped a bomb on it, and she could see that the top floors were beginning to crumble in on themselves.

"Thomas is in there?" Clara asked.

At the others' confirming nods, she continued.

"We have to go back for him. Let's get everyone on the berg," She ordered.

There was no arguing and questioning. Clara shoved down everything mixing inside of her and ran forward, ducking onto the bus. The kids twisted to look at her.

"All of you, on the berg, now. Get strapped in, we are leaving."

This time, there was no questioning, and Clara did a quick headcount, watching them past her off of the smashed-up city bus. Lia and the younger girl were among the last to depart, and Clara had to clench her jaw to keep from crying when she noticed that Lia still held the bag of treatments.

Once everyone was on the berg, Clara joined them, pressing the button to close the tall ramp. A loud humming started up as Jorge turned on the engine, the floor rattling under her feet. The door was sealed with a loud clang, and Clara turned around, walking past the kids. Leo and Gally were walking along, making sure they were all strapped in-- if they got Thomas, it was going to be a long flight.

Clara slid into the copilot's seat, watching Jorge press buttons on the console until the berg began to rise. She clenched the armrest, holding on tight, her fingernails digging into the rough leather as they rose high above.

She glanced back to where Brenda and Gally were arming up, strapping a gun onto their waist. She turned to look at Minho, who was crouched next to a young boy, speaking quietly. She briefly made eye contact with him and he gave her a tiny soft smile.

Clara blinked at him and turned back as Jorge inhaled sharply. Her eye widened. They had risen above the skyline, and now she could see the full extent of the damage the rebellion had caused.

The walls had completely crumbled, lying in rubble and overrun with cranks and protestors. She could make out minuscule citizens running for their lives beneath them, chased by starving cranks.

Clara swallowed. How had the world come to this?

Most of the tall buildings were on fire, and a few of them were beginning to collapse. The city was descending into chaos, bodies littering the streets. Flaming rubble was building up like the snow.

There was a moment of silence, where everyone in the berg was watching out the vibrating windows. They soared above the city towards the WICKED building, where flames were licking the air, sending curling smoke into the falling snow.

"There!"

Clara turned to look where Leo was pointing out of the window. On top of the roof, Teresa and Thomas were hobbling towards the edge.

Clara cursed, lunging for her bag of first aid supplies. Even from a distance, she could see blood on Thomas and Teresa's faces. Thomas had a heavy limp and he was leaning on Teresa.

"Open the ramp!" Clara shouted, looking back at Jorge.

Jorge cursed, but she heard him slam the lever down. Blood began to rush in her ears as the ramp lowered, wind and snow and smoke and ash whipping up into the berg. One of the kids behind her started to scream as the berg tilted to the side, lowering toward the crumbling tower.

Another explosion rocked a nearby building and Clara let out a shout as she slid forward, her balance thrown off. She fell towards the edge of the ramp.

A hand grabbed the back of her shirt and tugged her back up. Fabric ripped, but she was safe.

"Holy shit," She breathed, her heart pounding. She glanced back at Leo, who was still holding her shirt. "Thanks,"

He gave her a sad crooked smile, and together, they slid down the ramp as the building came close.

Fire licked along the edge of the building, creeping towards Thomas and Teresa. Teresa screamed.

"Take Thomas!" She shouted. Teresa fell into coughs. Smoke inhalation would be a later issue.

Clara pushed down to her stomach, sliding down the ramp. She could feel Leo gripping her ankles, holding her back. His fingers were tight.

Minho appeared next to her. He had been tied to a rope that Gally and Brenda were holding.

"Thomas, give us your hand!"

Thomas was nearly listless, stumbling forward. Another explosion sounded and the building closest to WICKED's went up into flames. Clara gasped. They only had a few seconds before it toppled into the WICKED building and destroyed it, sending Teresa and Thomas to their doom.

Thomas stumbled forward, and Teresa gave him a shove. Clara lunged forward and grabbed his hand.

Clara let out a yelp as her arm was stretched beyond its range. She screamed, pulling on Thomas. Minho reached out, grabbing Thomas arm, and together they yanked him up, leaving him on the floor of the ship.

Clara turned back for Teresa, but it was too late-- the building had begun to collapse, flames roaring and screaming. The nearby building fell, crashing into WICKED's building and sending it toppling into an inferno.

Teresa vanished into the haze.

Someone behind her screamed-- one of the kids maybe-- but Clara didn't have time to react, didn't have time to think.

"Jorge, get us moving!" Someone screamed.

Clara scrambled upwards, nearly slipping on the blood pooling from Thomas' body. She snatched her first aid bag, digging through it at an almost frantic pace.

Clara paused, taking a quick second and shutting her eye. She exhaled slowly, shutting down her panic, her fear, her grief-- everything that was threatening to drag her under.

She had a duty to fulfil.

Jorge sealed the ramp again with a shuddering jolt. He and Brenda soared the berg upwards, away from the last city. Through the windows, there was nothing remaining but flames, snow, and a chaotic crowd of people.

Clara gestured to Gally. "Put pressure on that wound there, the one on his chest. Hold down and do not let go."

Gally-- to his credit-- followed the order, pressing down with the swatch of fabric Clara tossed him.

Clara slid through the pool of blood, faintly aware of the kids panicking. Behind her, she could hear Leo talking in a cheerful tone-- it was fake of course, but he had always been good at keeping the spirits high. She exhaled as she listened to Minho and Leo distract the kids, keeping their focus away from Thomas.

As Gally kept the pressure on the chest wound-- possibly gunshot-- Clara focused on his head, sterilizing and bandaging the wound there. She was woefully underprepared for such injuries, but she needed to make do with what she could until they made it back to the boat. From there, she could actually treat him.

With the wounds on his head stilling, Clara turned to his chest and cringed. She'd need to take the bullet out eventually, but she couldn't right now. The cold unforgiving floor of the ancient berg wasn't a good spot for an emergency surgery.

Clara wrapped the wound, pressing down on it still. She needed to keep the wound pressurized until she had the chance to actually replace his blood and seal the wound properly.

It was going to be a long flight.

~~~

Clara was faintly aware of her arms cramping, but she couldn't shake the feeling. At some point during the flight, Minho had taken over for her, pressing down on Thomas' wound. Then Leo had taken over. And then Gally. Then Brenda. Even Jorge had taken a turn.

They had been taking shifts for the duration of their flight between distracting the kids, flying the berg, and keeping Thomas alive.

Bloody footprints were scattered around the ship's deck like a crime scene, but Thomas was still holding on. Clara kept checking his heart rate. It was slow, but it was there.

Through the window, she could see the camp they had been at only a few days earlier. The boat was far more stocked than it had been, and most of the camp had been disassembled and stacked away.

Clara nearly sobbed as they approached in the dimming afternoon light. They were still there-- they hadn't left yet.

The kids were switching between dozing, quiet murmurs, and watching Thomas with wide eyes.

Jorge finally landed the berg. There was a slight jolt, where Clara braced Thomas' body against the impact. His bleeding had slowed to an ooze, but she wasn't going to risk reopening it.

The ramp opened, and leaving Minho behind with Thomas, Clara ran down the ramp, shoving through the exhaustion that threatened to collapse her legs.

"I need a stretcher now!" She shouted. "Bullet wound."

Vince had approached the ramp with a ticked-off expression on his face, but at the blood that coated her hands and her clothes, he stopped, staring at them with wide eyes.

Adrian appeared out of the slowly growing crowd with another kid and ran up the ramp. Before Clara could join them, Vince spoke again, in a soft tone that was meant for only her.

"I hope it was worth it,"

~~~

The sun had set, and their ship set off. It rocked gently underneath her. She let out a heavy sigh and swiped at the cold sweat that had accumulated on her brow. It was dimly lit in here, despite the extra lanterns that Adrian had procured for her. Shortly after that, she had sent him to bed. He had protested, but she had insisted. He was young and could still sleep a full night; he might as well take advantage of it.

The flames flickered now, bouncing in neat patterns off the dark wall.

Thomas was unconscious in the bed, and in critical condition, but he was stable. She had managed to get an O- blood donor from someone in the crowd and was using that to replenish what he had lost. It had taken a few hours to get the bullet out and stitch up the wound, but his blood pressure was nearing where it should be.

He was stable, and he would live.

She slouched back in the metal chair, pressing her hand over her good eye. Thankfully, Adrian had had the foresight to set up a small med room on the ship while they were travelling. She had cleaned her hands and donned an apron for the surgery, but she was still wearing her bloody clothes, the same ones that she had held Tris in. The golden necklace was pressed against her throat now-- a calming presence.

There was a brief knock on the open door and Clara pulled the hand off her face with as much strength as she could muster. She knew she must look dreadful-- Leo was right, she certainly needed a shower and a long sleep. Maybe she could teach him to braid.

In the doorframe, Minho stood, with Lia next to him. In the chaos of their arrival, the kids had been given to Vince to deal with. Even so, Lia had managed to keep the treatments. They were in the satchel around her shoulder still.

Minho gave her a nudge. "Go on,"

Lia glanced back at him and took a step into the room. Slowly, she slipped off the satchel and placed it on the messy table of supplies, then she turned to face Clara.

Clara raised an eyebrow, glancing between the young girl and Minho, who had leaned against the doorframe. At some point in the past few hours, they had changed out of the WICKED uniforms and into more comfortable clothing. Minho was wearing a thick jacket.

Clara really needed to get out of the bloodstained clothing.

"What's up, kid?" Clara croaked. She coughed to clear her throat.

Lia glanced back at Minho and then at Clara again. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Clara frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lia tried again, gesturing haphazardly to Thomas. "Can you teach me to do that? How to save and help people? I thought WICKED was going to kill us all in the name of helping themselves. I want to help people get better."

Clara blinked slowly, straightening up in her seat. "You want to learn to be a medic or a doctor, or whatever I am?"

Lia nodded quickly and glanced once more at Minho, who gave her a reassuring nod.

"I want to help people. Now that we've made it out of WICKED's ownership, I want to learn to help people and keep people alive, like you did with Thomas,"

Clara nearly let out a sad laugh. The kid hadn't seen everyone that had died because she had been unable to help them.

Michael and Charlie and Freddy and Simon and Winston and Tris. All these people she had wanted to help and couldn't.

Still, as Clara watched Lia stare at her with grey eyes, she felt a tiny inkling of hope. Couldn't she teach Lia to continue to help people, all so no one else would ever experience what she had?

"You know it's going to be hard, right? Things are going to go wrong all the time, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it, no matter how hard you try. You are never going to be able to save everyone, and a lot of people you love are going to die."

Lia was quiet for a moment, her eyes darting to Thomas and then back to Clara. "I know, but if I can make sure that one person doesn't die, doesn't that make it all worth it?"

Clara laughed this time and stood up, clapping Lia once on the shoulder. "You're right, kid. I'll teach you,"

The girl grinned up at her. She was missing a few of her back teeth, too young for them to come in.

"Now, how about we start in the morning, you can help Adrian and I change a bandage. For now, you should get some rest, I don't know how long we will be on the ship for."

Lia nodded quickly and dashed out of the room with so much enthusiasm that Clara wasn't sure that she wouldn't slip on her way to the barracks.

"I'm glad you said yes," Minho breathed. "I told her you would and I don't want her to think me a liar."

Clara snorted, walking over to check Thomas' pulse again. It was steady. "I'm glad I could help you save face in front of a ten-year-old."

Minho chuckled quietly, and she could feel his warm dark eyes on her as she adjusted the bag of fluids.

"I brought you this, by the way. Shockingly difficult to scrounge up on the boat, but I managed to charm Frypan into giving it to me,"

Clara looked away from Thomas. Minho was holding up a steaming styrofoam cup. Dangling out of the top was a teabag string.

Clara smiled and walked across the room, wiping her hands once on her thick apron before taking it from him and sipping it. Her smile grew larger.

"You remembered I liked black tea?"

Minho led the way out of the room and onto the deck. It was pitch black in every direction, and waves crashed against the side of the massive ship, rocking them gently back and forth. Saltwater flew up, splashing Clara's face with a gentle mist.

She leaned against the balcony, staring off into the sky. How different it seemed than the maze, yet she could make out the same constellations.

Finally, Minho shrugged, leaning next to her. "There wasn't a lot to think about during captivity. I resolved that I had to make sure I got you the right tea if I ever saw you again."

Clara snorted, but took another sip of her tea, letting the bitter flavour seep into her tongue.

They were quiet for a moment, watching the rocking sea before Clara finally glanced up at him. He was watching her.

There was a split second, where she blinked before he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. It was gentle and soft, and everything she needed in the moment.

They separated, and Clara leaned her head against his, becoming subconsciously aware of all the blood and gore and sweat that she was coated in. She could feel her face becoming warm.

"I want to kiss you again," She murmured. "But I really need to shower."

Minho chuckled, and gave her a nudge, pushing her towards the communal showers. "I think Leo scrounged up some clean clothes. They should be on the shelf."

Clara made a note to thank Leo. As she started to move away, the warm tea in her hand, Minho called out.

"And Clara?"

Clara turned back to look at him, his features illuminated by the dim lanterns that were spaced along the deck.

"Take your time," He said. "We have all the time in the world now,"

~~~

Hello lovelies!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to vote and comment, I love hearing from you all!

Until next time,

Indigo