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.*･｡. FLARES! .*･｡.
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018.
THE GLUE.

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  "So... we're the only girls?"

Kennedy grimaced but nodded, "Yeah— just us."

She watched closely as the new girl tried to process it, looking a bit unnerved by the information. There'd been lots to digest in the previous ten minutes, and Kennedy knew it was overwhelming.

While all the gladers had it hard, being the only girls made it twice as difficult.

The two girls had spent their time at the top of the tower getting to know each other — well, as much as they could possibly know with such a lack of memory, and Kennedy had informed her on what there was to know about the glade. Kennedy hadn't filled her in on the small details; Thomas being a runner, their leader being stung, and so on... because, did new girl really she need to know all of that, just yet? It would likely scare her off, and the glade really didn't need another moral panic. Plus, she had quite a throw with that right arm. If she had started to toss fruit again, there was little doubt that someone would be getting seriously hurt.

Lucky for her, the new girl had known her name. She'd known it the moment she had regained consciousness, after being sent up in the box: her name was Teresa. It was a pretty name, and Kennedy thought it was fit for a pretty girl.

Her eyes had been blue, a bright blue that matched the shade of her shirt. Teresa had remembered her age — which was sixteen years — and, suddenly, Kennedy hadn't felt so odd. Not as odd as she had over the last two years. In fact, around the newer girl, she felt at home. It was a feeling that she had never felt; it was nice.

Of course, she loved her boys to pieces. That wasn't something to be misconstrued. But, finally being around a girl was heavenly, and it was joyous. It was a moment that the she-bean had yearned for since she had arrived, since she had realised that no other girl was likely to join her, and since Teresa had made her presence. It was long awaited, and now that the new girl was awake, Kennedy wanted to scream in sheer delight. Something good had finally just happened in the glade, and to Kennedy, and despite every messy thing going on, she had found an ounce of positivity. A light in the darkness. And that light was Teresa — even if Teresa didn't know it yet, she had changed Kennedy for the better. Everything seemed far less dark and scary, with her around.

"This place is full of boys?" Teresa rephrased, hoping to totally understand, face falling when Kennedy nodded her head once.

"Just boys," she said.

"Wait— so, you've been here alone? For over two years?"

Kennedy popped the p, "Yup."

At the answer, even though she had already known it (she just didn't want to really believe it, unless she had to), Teresa gawked at her in disbelief.

"With just boys?"

   A breathy laugh escaping, Kennedy nodded again. It must have been hard to believe, but it also must have been hard to believe anything that was going on, here. She clearly remembered when she had arrived in the glade; it was scary, and strange, and Teresa had been dealing with it much better than most did. It couldn't be worse than Thomas — she hadn't run into the maze.

"Oh..." Teresa gnawed on her bottom lip, "Sorry you had to go through that, Kennedy."

   She hadn't really expected that. But, then again, Kennedy didn't really know what to expect, it just wasn't really that. So, she smiled softly and wondered why this girl had chosen to apologise for what couldn't have been prevented.

It wasn't as if it was her fault. Teresa hadn't arrived earlier which was most definitely a bummer, but that couldn't have been helped; the creators had done that to Kennedy, leaving her alone in a mass of boys. Plus, it wasn't terrible living with them — it was tiring, and had the potential to be isolating, but it was also very fun at the best of it. Those boys had become more than friends, they had become her brothers, and she couldn't imagine not living with them. There was no life if it wasn't spent with them. She was sure of it.

   "It wasn't all that bad, they're can be really good shanks." She said, "Little bastards at times... but, I mean— I love them, anyway. We're a family, here— y'know? They're all I remember having,"

   Teresa nodded her head in vague understanding, although she didn't really understand, at all. She'd been in this place, the glade they called it, (consciously) for a matter of hours, and it was all very confusing to her. Then again, Kennedy had explained that it was confusing for everyone, and that it was normal.

Ultimately, they were safe there — or, as safe as they could be.

What, with the creators playing havoc at recent, that seemed less likely. Whatever that meant. Kennedy hadn't gone into detail, now.

Teresa was intrigued, nonetheless; she wanted to know what it meant, and what was happening here. It was a topic Kennedy had stuttered around nervously, fingers fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist — something a kid had made her, she'd said.

   From what Teresa could tell, she liked Kennedy. She had ended up being a nice girl, despite the hardships she had gone — and was still going — through, in the glade. She was kind, confident, a tad terrifying when she had shouted at Gally to stop hassling them to come down, but overall welcoming. There was several ways that Kennedy had came across upon first meeting, all that head lead to Teresa quite liking her. Not that it was uncommon; she could tell that everyone liked Kennedy, even if she hadn't been around very long. The boys seemed to listen to her when she had told them to back off and leave Teresa alone. No one had argued, other than a lot of grumbling from the builder.

Apparently, that was just the way Gally was.

Teresa wasn't sure they'd get on.

"Don't you think it's strange?"

"Hm..?" Kennedy hummed as she faced her, "What is?"

"You being the only girl, until me." Teresa pried curiously, her mind debating every possible reason she could conjure. If those creators were going to put girls in the glade, then why had they put only one in, for a over two years? "I'm sure there has to be a reason why they—"

Before the girl could continue her train of thought, however, a certain greenie pushed his way through the hatch to the top of the tower. Snapping into action, shaken by the sudden movement he had made, Teresa snatched the machete at her side and — in a similar fashion to ten minutes, before — thrust the weapon into his face. It forced him to an abrupt halt, and he nearly toppled down the stairs and to his brutal death! Jeez! What this new girl trying to kill him? He wondered where she'd even found herself a machete, anyway.

"Oh, my—!"

Kennedy rolled her eyes at the boy, "Don't worry about Tom, greenie." She shrugged, "Stupid shank, here, couldn't hurt a fly."

Confused by the slang, Teresa frowned. It was like trying to learn a foreign language. Regardless, she lowered the weapon away from the boy's face. Tom.

Was this the boy?

The one whose name she had muttered in her sleep?

Taking note of the confusion in her eyes, her mind whirling as she tried to understand the jargon, Thomas shrugged. Really, he couldn't, "Yeah... I don't really understand what she says, either."

"Slinthead!" Kennedy scoffed.

Allowing her eyes to flicker between the two newbies, Kennedy pursed her lips. She was filled with frustration. Albeit it nosy, one her of greatest traits, she was aching to know how they knew each other — and why. Teresa had known his name, and that made the brunette's teeth grind, and a sinking feeling gnawed her insides. It was nothing to do with Teresa herself, since she had been a good enough girl, but there was something about them; something about them that consumed Kennedy with a bitter sensation, left a foul taste on her tongue. Kennedy wasn't sure what the feeling was, as she had never felt anything like this before, but the girl didn't really want to find out, either. It made her feel queasy.

Some things in life, you were best off not knowing. This seemed like it was going to be one of them.

"Well, uh—" she stumbled over her words as she stood, cringing when the towers shifted with a creak! Kennedy made for the hatch in hopes of making as clean a getaway as she could muster. "I'll— I'll leave you guys to... chat? Yeah, chat! I'll just—"

"Kennedy?"

Pausing in her frantic movements, Kennedy glanced back over her shoulder. She quirked a brow as her hair swayed in the wind, a brunette tornado while she waited for Teresa to say whatever it was that she had stopped her for. Her legs were fidgety during her wait, and Kennedy decided she had never felt such an urgency to escape a situation. Not even once. Closest to this, was the times she felt her life had been in danger.

Perhaps this situation was dangerous; it was, to her emotions.

Why did she feel this way?

"Thanks..." Teresa smiled bashfully, cheeks red. "Y'know— for making this whole thing bearable. I really appreciate it,"

Kennedy nodded, "No problem, greenie."

With Thomas' eyes on her back, she lowered herself down from the hatch, her boots landing on her lower level with a thump! She ignored the feeling of his burning gaze, and didn't turn around.

————

Newt scowled at the pair of shanks that had burst into med-jack hut, both shouting their profanities about a bleedin' blue liquid.

   It was funny looking stuff.

   The concoction looked as though it should have been medical, in the very least. It vaguely resembled a few supplies they'd gotten in the box before, but it looked sketchy above anything. Blue was a colour they hadn't seen any of the supplies be, not to mention the vial was embossed with the same initials as the griever key — they weren't sure if they could trust those initials.

W.I.C.K.E.D

Upon being shoved into their hands, Kennedy had been quick to notice it vaguely resembled the grief serum they had received in the past. It could have been of similar purpose, but the serum had been in a smaller bottle and was grey, cloudy substance. It wasn't a near-transparent liquid, and it certainly wasn't turquoise, as this one was. How were they supposed to know? How could they trust this stuff? Truth was, as much as Kennedy, Jeff and Clint could spend their time speculating, no one knew what this liquid was, and they wouldn't know unless they did something with it. However, using it was a risk, far too great.

    "Start from the beginning!" Newt said, "What is this stuff?"

   Teresa answered, "It was in my pocket."

    "This came up with you?" Brows cinched, Newt rolled the vial in between his fingers. He spared a glance at Kennedy, who was examining the second one. Teresa nodded, and Newt sighed. "No one's ever been sent up with anything, before... do you know what it is? What it might do?"

   All Teresa could do was shake her head. She had no idea what it was, but her and Thomas had an idea. The latter stepped closer to Kennedy, subconsciously, and declared the thoughts.

    "What if it was sent up, for a reason?" His eyes flickered over to Alby's restless figure. "I mean— what if could help him? Maybe it was sent so we could use it, and save him." Newt's nostrils flared, and Thomas tried to hurry up his argument. "It could be a—"

    "A what?" Newt snapped, "A cure?"

   Before Thomas could reply, the blonde spoke again.

    "Are you a bleedin' idiot?" It was rhetorical, "You want us to give it to him?" He fumed, "We don't even know what this stuff is! And here you are, thinking it's a bright idea to give it to Alby, when the aim is to make him better — not worse." Scoffing, Newt shook his head and shoved the item into Thomas' chest. "Of all the stupid suggestions you've had, Tommy... we don't even know who sent it, or why it came up here with you—!" He had stared at Teresa a bit too accusingly, but no one could blame him. It did seem sketchy to all of them, and Newt had yet to be fully acquainted with Teresa; he didn't know what to think of the girl, yet. "For all we know, this stuff could kill him dead!"

   Opting to stay quiet as she thought, Kennedy peered down at the leader in question, watching as his body writhed.

   Sweat beaded his forehead and dark veins swam across his skin, decorating him in purple and blue. His muscles were tense, and they spasmed while the illness got worse. Perhaps it was bad, but Kennedy couldn't help her cringe — Alby looked awful. He was dying. Without any grief serum, they were going to lose him. Only Gally had made it through the changing without it, and he hadn't looked as bad as this. Gally hadn't looked even half as terrible.

   Alby was dying. She knew he was.

   Kennedy wasn't sure how much longer they'd be able to keep him alive, without a PLAN B. Med-jacks weren't real doctors. The kids were just doing what they could to make Alby comfortable.

   Surely trying was a smaller risk, than not risking anything at all? Her brain was starting to hurt as it thumped against her forehead.

    "He's already dying, Newt!" Thomas fought, throwing his hand towards Alby in gesture. Newt winced and looked away from the brutal truth. He knew that Thomas was right, and that was why Thomas refused to give up — he was headstrong, and giving up wasn't in his nature. "Look at him! How could this possibly make it any worse?"

    "Hey— you don't get it, Thomas." Kennedy interrupted.

   His gaze shifted to look down at her, and softened.

    "We've known Alby for years — if he dies, then this whole place dies..." She peered up at him, "I don't particularly feel like losing another friend."

   She was silent for a moment.

    "But this stuff... what if it could save him?" Kennedy looked over at Newt, whose stubborn expression was crumbling. Suddenly, he looked far less appalled at the ideas, "Don't you think it's worth a shot? It had to come with Teresa, for a reason— right?"

   Newt found himself at a crossroads; it was a difficult decision, as to whether he wanted to chance losing his friend indefinitely. The shanks were right and deep down, Newt knew that it was plausible for this liquid to save Alby. Or, at least, it might help him hold on for just a little while longer. In the long run, he was sure he would regret not trying more than giving it a shot, and then living with all the guilt if it failed. Ultimately, it was Kennedy's decision — she was their leader, now. As much as she favoured his opinions, it was Kennedy who had to decide.

"It's your call."

   Kennedy frowned, "I don't like that answer."

    "Ken..." Newt sighed through his nose, "Whatever you do, I'll be right behind you."

"Come on—!" Thomas coaxed, his gaze rallying between them. He noticed that Kennedy wouldn't completely meet his stare, just as she hadn't all day, although he couldn't figure out why. Maybe she was realising that he was bad news, like the rest of them were starting to. His gut twisted, "It's worth a shot."

Once again, the she-bean looked at her closest friend; she took a second to inspect each and every part of him. From the chiselled line of his jaw, to his tussled blonde hair. Usually, Newt was fairly easy to read. Heart on his sleeve. But right now, he was making it hard. While he wasn't protesting against the idea anymore, shank wasn't exactly showing that he was coming to terms with it. Many ways, Newt looked impartial — he wasn't inside, but Newt wasn't one to lose his temper often. He always kept it together. As much as he could, anyway. That was who he was. He kept all of them together. Alby was right: Newt was their glue.

After a moments more inspection, the blonde himself inspected her, right back. The duo analysed one another, in hopes of a silver lining but neither of them could quite find one. They nodded.

"Alright... okay—" she nodded, "Do it."

   Thomas pointed to himself, "Me?"

"Yeah, shank." Kennedy said, "Go on, do it."

"Maybe a med-jack should—?"

    "I told you to do it, Tommy." She hissed at him, "I won't say it, again."

If this went wrong terrible, then it was all on him.

"Okay..." he breathed. Sparing time to hype himself up to the task, Thomas slowly edged closer towards Alby's cot. Each of the gladers watched in both anticipation and fear, the remaining three unable to breathe properly while they awaited the leaders fate.

But before the Thomas could inject the liquid into Alby's veins, the latter lurched his body forewords. His fist gripped Tom's shirt, and held him down as he started to shout.

"You shouldn't be here!"

Newt threw himself at the pair and tried to yank Thomas back to safety, begging desolately for Alby to release him.

However, Alby either didn't hear or chose not to listen to him; he instead continued to spit and shriek at Thomas, while Kennedy was unable to do anything. She could hardly bring herself to move an inch, unable to believe the sight she was seeing. Her head was hazy and pounded against her skull, and her eyes glazed over, and suddenly Kennedy was back in the deadheads. Ben was yelling at Thomas, and she was stumbling away.

"I saw you!"

She blinked, and Ben was gone.

"No—!" Alby shouted, "You shouldn't be here!"

Before Kennedy could totally process the situation, Teresa had jumped into action. She grabbed the syringe from Thomas' hands and plunged it into Alby's chest. Teresa had known Alby the least out of all of them — in fact, she didn't know him at all! — so little hesitance had her worried about injecting him with the unknown fluid. It didn't exactly make too much of a difference to her. She sounded cruel, but Teresa didn't care for Alby like they did. She only wanted to saved Thomas, who was turning purple.

Kennedy wasn't exactly sure what Teresa and Thomas pair had spoken about when she had left, but it had taken time, and they had looked closer than when Teresa had arrived. It elicited a deep frown, and Kennedy clenched her fists at her sides. Perhaps Gally was getting to her, and she was starting to believe that Thomas had known Teresa.

What would that mean, for her? For the rest of them?

Did it mean anything, at all?

"Well—" Jeff appeared at the entrance to the hut, clearly having heard the commotion. He stared at Alby's still figure, and then the empty tube. "—whatever the hell that is, it totally worked."

"From now on, someone stays here and watches him around the clock!" Kennedy snapped, her tone slicing the tension like a knife.

She was irritated by her own thoughts — the queries about the two new greenies intertwining with the idea of Alby not making it through the night, as well as the flashbacks to Ben's attack. All of it was suffocating, and Kennedy could hardly breathe.

Rubbing at her face, she joined the rest in observing Alby, who now rested easy. None of them knew what this fluid could do to him in the long run, although the short-term effects were similar to the grief serum. They could only hope that it stayed that way, and that Alby showed more improvement than he had been. He needed to get through this; Kennedy couldn't do it, without him.

Thomas didn't realise how close he was to Kennedy.

Not until she let out a ragged breath, and her shoulder brushed by his chin. He wasn't sure when he had gotten closer to her, but he wasn't complaining.

His eyes flickered down to admire her, and he was about to say something until the silence was interrupted.

Gally walked into the hut, stoney faced and flamed touch at his side. "Hey— sundown, greenie..." he said to him, "Time to go."

And then, they were off.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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