~Sara~

"Clear!"

Sara pressed it on command, held her breath, and shut her eyes tightly as she heard the third electric current.

After Newt's body thumped back onto the bed, she heard the beeping of the EKG, looked up, and the jagged line finally marked a pulse. It took a second for the whole cycle to regulate, but it was there, and that was all Sara needed at the moment.

As dependent as it made her, she knew she wouldn't be able to get back up if she lost him.

She didn't know what she was gonna do, what remote corner of the world she had to reach, but she wasn't gonna let the Flare rip him away from her. A simple surgery almost did, and that was the scariest moment of her life.

In contrast, the death of her parents was so sudden and shocking, that she had to continue for them; to give a meaning to her fight. It was unfair, and she had to live to make justice for what WICKED did to them.

But what could she do when she knew Newt was succumbing to the Flare, and that she literally watched him stop breathing a few minutes earlier? It was like the entire room, the defibrillators and EKG included, were screaming at her that she was losing him little by little and very quickly at the same time.

What could she have done? What justice could she obtain for him? She couldn't fight Rebecca over it. It would've been an accident; a slip-up with anesthesia dosage. Would she have forgiven Rebecca if Newt hadn't survived?

Maybe. Maybe not. She would never know. Only that it wasn't the Flare that almost took him from her.

But the Flare wasn't gonna have a go at it too. Sara couldn't fight the virus if it were to take Newt, but she could at least use anything in her power to put up a good fight against the circumstances before it was too late for real. Getting a taste of what it actually felt to lose him was enough; one thing was thinking about it and knowing it would happen, but it was something completely different having to live it.

Rebecca was still breathing rapidly, and she set the devices down on the tray next to the bed.

She quickly checked his vitals and made sure everything else was in order. Sara helped her set up the scanner, one of WICKED's most innovative medical equipment, hoping its laser technology would indicate whether he suffered any neural damage or organ failure given the amount of time he was unconscious and that his body wasn't receiving enough blood supply.

And for the first good news ever—regarding Newt—he was fine.

Rebecca turned to face Sara with a shameful expression. "I'm... I'm so sorry," she whispered, bursting to tears. "I almost killed him—I'm so sorry."

Sara threw her arms around her, letting out tears of relief. "But you saved him."

Deep down, Sara knew that Rebecca would've been responsible, but she was aware that the woman was exceptional at everything she did. She worked hard to become who she was, with the knowledge she gained, so only an especially difficult case would put her in that situation where someone's life was out of her control.

Sara had to remind herself that Newt literally attacked Rebecca. If he was choking her, there wasn't any time for her to think about how much anesthesia she was applying to him. All she needed was for him to fall asleep and let go of her, otherwise the surgery wouldn't have been possible, and he could've killed her at worst.

For the next few minutes, Sara sat next to his bed, laying her head on his chest as she stroked his face.

Rebecca was close by to monitor everything this time.

Finally, Sara felt as Newt slightly shifted, and he let out a soft groan. She immediately raised her head and looked at his face. His eyes opened, and Sara observed his long eyelashes as her favorite pair of brown eyes settled on her. She'd thought she would never get to see them again.

"Hi," she whispered to him, her voice heavy with relief and happiness as she smiled.

Her forehead was creased, and she looked like she was about to cry again. Newt blinked back at her, eyebrows furrowed, and a look of worry settled in his eyes as he saw her expression. Hating herself for making him worry first thing after he woke up, she wiped her tears away quickly and embraced him tightly. She breathed in his scent, caressed him repeatedly and peppered him with kisses.

He was confused as he looked back at her, and Sara was afraid he'd lost his memory or something.

"Love, what happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Sara shook her head and pursed her lips. "Bit of a scare you gave us, but it's all good now," she replied, taking his hand in hers and bringing it to her lips to kiss it. "We're free, Newtie. Becca took that thing off our brain." She smiled at him.

He grinned, looked at Rebecca, and gave her a grateful nod. The woman smiled at him, but Newt suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. "Shuck... I—" he paused, taking an uneasy glance at Sara.

"It's okay, I already know what happened," said Sara.

His eyes were apologetic as he looked back at Rebecca. "I'm sorry about that—I... I didn't mean to," Newt rambled, placing a hand on his forehead.

Rebecca approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay." She gave him a reassuring smile, and Sara rubbed his leg to ease him.

❀❀❀

Newt had been complaining about a headache, which Rebecca deemed normal after the stress he was under.

The anesthesia was wearing off, and it made him drowsy. Sara would stay with him and rub his back, making sure to keep the trash can nearby for whenever he felt sick.

As they let him rest a little more, Sara and Rebecca sat at the entrance of the medical wing.

They both agreed not to tell him exactly what had happened with him. It was better to prevent another Flare-induced burst of anger now that he was getting harder to control each time.

Sara knew Newt didn't have a lot of time, but at least the surgery could delay the virus if he at least knew that WICKED couldn't control him anymore. That meant less anger in his mind, even if only by a little. They'd been flying for at least a day, and wasting time wasn't something they could afford.

"Becca, if we're not going to the Crank Palace, then where are we going? We've been flying for hours, and you haven't told me," said Sara. There was literally no other place for them to go except the Crank Palace or the city, but both were completely out of the question.

"I hope you're not mad..." Rebecca paused, looking at Sara doubtfully, and Sara braced herself, "But I thought this would be good for you and Newt. At least to give us time before reuniting with the others." Sara gestured at her to continue. "We're flying back to Alaska," she finally said.

It took a moment for Sara to digest what she heard.

"Are you kidding me?" She huffed. "The last place where we ever wanted to set foot again, and you're taking us straight to it."

"Listen," Rebecca said, reaching for her forearm to grab her attention. "We're not going to Point Hope. I don't wanna take you back to HQ—that's madness."

"Then where—?" Sara cut herself off as she gave Rebecca a curious look, then she shook her head. "No. Never. You're crazy if you think I wanna go back to Wiseman. My home's gone, Becca. And I don't want Newt to see that. It brings a lot of bad memories," she said, her tone saddening as she averted her eyes.

"Perhaps it would do him really well to hear more about you. You don't have to talk about the sad parts. Talk about the happy moments with your family," Rebecca suggested.

Sara found the idea a little more appealing, but avoiding the sad parts was inevitable. It would make Newt wonder about his own life, and Sara didn't want to have to tell him that he'd already seen the fate of his family in that first nightmare he had. She was trying her hardest to avoid causing him more pain and anger than he already dealt with.

"I'm not sure about that," Sara whispered. Rebecca gave her a sad smile, aware of her worries, without needing Sara to tell her.

"I'm sorry I showed him. I thought it'd make you connect with him more, and that he'd learn to trust you. I thought we'd get to the point where they all got their memories back if my initial plans failed, so I just wanted to make it easier for him by showing him in advance. I wasn't counting on things taking a huge turn," she finished, her face full of regret. "But anyway, we're not going back to your hometown. I wanted to take you to mine," Rebecca added, smiling. "I'm just trying to buy us more time, because there's really nothing else we can do for Newt, and I need you to be aware of that. I need you to be conscious that you can lose him."

Sara bowed her head. It hurt to admit it, but Rebecca was right. They needed more time that they probably didn't have—that Newt probably didn't have.

Preferring to avoid the subject, she asked, "You never told me where you grew up. I thought it was in Point Hope, with Ava."

Rebecca shook her head, smiling. "I grew up in McGrath." Then her smile faltered. "Ava never had much time for me during my childhood and teen years. My father would visit me occasionally while I lived with Hans and his wife. Then when my father died..." She took a moment to breathe deeply, "They took care of me. When I was old enough, I was trying to find a job, and that's how I got to WICKED. After Hans deserted WICKED, he said he still wanted to keep in touch with me, but that he would move out of McGrath and Alaska in general."

Sara smiled at the woman. It almost seemed pointless to go back; if Rebecca wanted to go visit the family that took care of her, she would've wanted to go to Denver. However, regarding Newt, the risks of being in the city were much greater.

Maybe it was the brief isolation that would benefit the three of them in that town in Alaska. It was devastating that their hometowns were nothing more than abandoned sites, but since no one lived there anymore, they could probably find the peace and quiet they desperately needed.

❀❀❀

"This is where Becca grew up?" asked Newt as they were about to step out, back into Alaskan soil. He looked discouraged, probably aware that WICKED HQ was closer to them. Turning to Sara, he asked, "What if they find us?"

She grabbed his hand and shook her head. "It's the last place where they'll expect us to be."

As the three dismounted, they were immediately welcomed by the warm breeze. Sara could almost breathe the familiarity of the air; she'd recognize it anywhere.

She'd heard stories about Alaska once being a place full of snow and glaciers in a couple of its towns. Everything changed a few centuries later. Snow caps could only be seen on top of mountains and treetops, but only up north. McGrath, however, was a heated place, but not as terrible as the Scorch.

They walked around town, passing small houses, all in salvage conditions. No one lived there anymore. The houses didn't look dilapidated like the buildings in the Scorch, but they were growing really old, resenting the absence of their previous residents. The paint on the walls was faded and cracked, the decor in the porches was broken, and the glass windows were shattered and tainted with an ugly, yellowish color. It was depressing.

The town probably suffered the same fate as her own hometown, kids being torn from their parents, the parents getting killed, and the town quickly becoming abandoned. Sara tried her best not to think about that; her parents would've liked her to move on, even though that tragic day would follow her every day for the rest of her life.

She glanced over at Newt, sensing how thoughtful and quiet he'd been as he observed the houses they passed. Maybe he couldn't stop thinking about his own home—his family.

Rebecca pointed to a house on the corner of the block. "You see that one?" she asked them, and they both nodded. It was a pale green house with a pretty door design, yet some of the metal decorations were broken or missing. It looked better than any of the other houses they'd seen so far, as if the former owners had been wealthy people, but it still had that gloomy aspect that characterized every single other house. "That's where I grew up. Hans and his wife's old house."

They stepped onto the porch, and Rebecca stopped for a few seconds in front of the door before she put her hand on the knob.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked her.

The woman nodded, quickly shaking off her doubts. "A lot of memories just came at once," she said, and Sara smiled at her, understandingly.

Newt looked over at Sara and squeezed her hand. She figured he was glad they'd come to this place instead of leaving him alone with a bunch of Cranks, but he also looked scared. It was frightening to visit a place where people once lived, and seeing it now, a ghost town.

The air inside the house was stale and rusty, but there was a welcoming feeling about its interior. Sara felt the homeliness of it, as if she were back in her home, with her family. That was how she knew that Hans and his wife were good people, and that they gave Rebecca plenty of love while she lived with them.

They all took a seat in what once was the living room, dusting off the old couches first. They'd brought a few snacks from the berg with them, and they talked and ate as if they were three good old friends enjoying the simplicity of life in a warm afternoon.

Rebecca was opening up to them more, talking about the things of her past that she never told anyone else. "My mom left me with Hans because a baby would've been a problem for her at the facility she worked in at the time, before WICKED was even a thing. My dad didn't like the idea, but they both held important positions in the facility, and they weren't married. Hans's family took me in since Hans and my dad were friends. Ava would only visit me occasionally, like I said, but she eventually stopped coming. But dad never stopped. He'd bring me presents all the time."

Newt furrowed his eyebrows, and Sara was dying to know what was on his mind. It was strange for both of them having to listen to Rebecca tell them that, given that the subject was delicate for her.

"Your dad and Hans..." He began, trailing off for a second, "Anderson. He was your dad, wasn't he?"

What?

Rebecca raised her eyebrows with surprise, but then she slowly nodded.

Sara was shocked, a horrible thought engulfed her mind as she put the pieces together. Thomas, Rachel, Aris, and Teresa were sent to kill Rebecca's father when he got infected. They didn't all remember it, but she was sure at least Thomas and Rachel regretted it. Greatly.

"And you mean Ava Paige is your mum?" Newt asked, stunned.

Rebecca nodded once again. "I couldn't let Hans sustain me for the rest of his life," she continued. "And especially when he abandoned WICKED and had to flee Alaska. He said he would've taken me with him, but he knew I didn't want to stay away from my dad. So he let me live in this house when they left. It was hard to find a job, and I'd eventually run out of food, but then Janson was secretary at the time. And he casually stopped by this town one day, and that's when he first saw me and offered me the job," she said, rolling her eyes as she munched on some trail mix.

Sara was fascinated with her story. It was sad, but she was impressed with how Rebecca fended for herself almost all her life. She depended on people, but could take care of herself, whenever necessary. Sara only wished she could achieve at least that level of independence one day. 

"Was it too hard deciding if you wanted to take the job?" she asked the woman.

"I didn't want to," Rebecca gave her honest reply. "I knew WICKED was bad news, but I didn't know exactly what they were doing. I was running low on options, and I also convinced myself that I'd get to spend more time with my dad if I accepted. So I started working with admin. Dad was so happy to see me, but I could see it in his eyes... he didn't want me to work there."

"Until Anderson ended up like me and then little seven-year-olds were sent to kill him in his weakest moment," Newt blurted out with a sour tone, beginning to bounce his knee and rattle his fingers on the couch.

Sara stopped munching on her food, setting the bag down as she reached for his arm. "Hey, calm down. They don't remember that anymore."

Rebecca nodded with a sad smile plastered on her face. "At least Thomas and Rachel regret it. But the consequence was my mom replacing my dad as chancellor, which in turn, earned Janson the position as Assistant Director. There was an A.D. before Janson, but he also got the Flare, and his body was found in the basement before word of his infection became public. When Janson took over, my mom left him in charge of HQ while she moved to a nearby facility. And that's when the hunt for kids intensified, and he focused on getting you to HQ, Sara."

Sara was getting uncomfortable with the mention of her story with WICKED. Life had always sucked for someone born after the flares catastrophe; it just got worse once WICKED became a part of her life. Now all the rumors she heard a few years back in HQ made sense.

To Sara's dismay, Rebecca continued. "I knew I had to protect you after everything Janson did to Mr. D'Angelo and the Callans. I wish I could've done more. Maybe if I hadn't been a coward, I could've prevented many other deaths too."

Sara knew there was nothing else that could've been done. "You did—"

"I'm gonna kill him. I can't believe he's gotten away with everything he's done to you both. And what WICKED's done to us. They all deserve to die," Newt started mumbling as he stood up.

Sara's eyes widened as she heard him. His words didn't just carry the literal meaning of them; they carried hatred, years of hatred accumulated and now exacerbated by the effects of the Flare.

Sara stood up and walked over to stand in front of him, grabbing his face with both hands desperately. She knew it wasn't Newt really saying that, but she hoped that even though he couldn't always be in control over his own mind, that he would never kill anyone, no matter who it was. She really hoped he hadn't meant what he said.

"You're not a killer, you hear me?" She told him firmly before turning to Rebecca. "Let's stop talking about this, please." The woman nodded, giving Newt a worried look.

He was breathing quickly, and his anger was still there despite having Sara's hands around his face. Sara felt she was quickly losing him again as she didn't see Newt's normal gaze when she looked into his eyes. She kept her hands on his face, caressing it with her thumbs.

"No," he muttered, trying to pry her hands off.

Sara leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, trying to get him to grasp the familiarity of the gesture and bring Newt back. He stopped fighting for a second, but Sara wasn't getting the usual soft look in his eyes. Years of pain on behalf of WICKED were written in his eyes, and it was foolish to think she could solve the problem with a simple gesture.

"Please come back," she whispered. She searched his eyes again, and she watched his look soften by intervals, like Newt was fighting to dominate over the Crank that threatened to overtake his mind. "It's me. The one who believes in you, and who loves you an insane amount. You're gonna tell me you can't even recognize me?"

Newt huffed, then his eyes cleared. He was back, but an idle expression took over his face. Sara was slightly uncomfortable with his distant look.

"I can't do this anymore." He shook his head. "You're stupid to think I wouldn't hurt you. I can't control myself anymore. You both should've left me with the other Cranks."

Sara cringed. It was rare to take offense at anything Newt said, but it was beginning to be too much for her. And worse, that he referred to himself as a Crank. No matter how far he was with the virus, Sara couldn't accept that. She looked at Rebecca for help, and the woman approached them.

"We'll work on something, Newt," said Sara, placing a hand on his forearm. "Becca and I will work on something. Maybe—you know—I can save you."

At that point, she was fumbling with her words, not sure how she planned to save him, but she was exasperated with the imminence of everything. Her voice was wobbly, and she was aware she was broken enough not to be able to say anything coherent.

"You can't save me!" Newt shouted with tears in his eyes. Sara noticed for the first time that his veins were visibly dark around his neck, and she stared in horror as they popped out even more when he raised his voice. "I don't want to hurt you, can't you understand that?"

"You won't—"

"It's over," he cut her off. "Sometimes, you have to admit whenever you can't give any more of yourself. I've done that a long time ago. It's about time you do it too."

Sara took a deep breath, really thinking her words through. She had to say it; perhaps it could get through him, and he could accept her offer. "But I have the cure," she whispered. "It's in my DNA. I can help you."

"Sara, no," said Rebecca, stepping in. "It can kill you."

"Then let that be—shuck it!" Sara screamed. "I don't care. I can't let Newt die, okay? You have no idea what that's gonna do to me," she added, covering her face with her hands. "Please," she whimpered.

She glanced at Newt, and he had a stoic expression. It was resolve. He'd made a decision. "You don't think I'll let you die for me, yah?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she said, stubbornly. She knew she sounded ridiculous, but she couldn't back down.

Newt shook his head. "You're right. You can be my cure, Sara," he began, and Sara tilted her head, gaining a bit of hope. "I can't think of anyone better to end this hell than you." He walked closer to her, slowly, and Sara's breath hitched. "Kill me," he whispered.

"No!" Sara shouted at him. "Listen to me," she said, grabbing his shoulders harshly. "We can't keep playing this game. We all know we would both die for each other. This needs to stop. Stop acting like nothing can hurt you anymore—I know you're scared, and it hurts you. I wish I could take it all from you. If we're willing to sacrifice our lives, we can sacrifice other things instead, to survive for each other. I don't care if all this positivity sounds ridiculous. We're gonna live. Both of us will. And everyone else too."

"Love," he raised his voice, but it was less reprimanding than before. "There's no hope for me. You saw what I'm turning into. Just stop." He bowed his head and turned away from her. "I'm gonna go lie down for a bit. You can come with me, and I promise I'll control myself. Just don't say anything about helping me anymore."

What? He was getting sicker than ever, and all he wanted to do was lie down like he just had a cold?

He lay on the couch and Sara reluctantly followed. Then she sat next to him and Newt moved over to lay his head on her lap.

She felt numb; they had little time left with each other, and Newt simply wanted to act like nothing was wrong. As she ran her fingers through his hair, she couldn't help but think that it was probably one of the last times they could be like that, one caressing the other, nothing else mattering to them.

Rebecca only sat close by, an anxious look on her face. It must've felt awful not being able to do anything else. Sara was angry that neither of them would let her save him, even if there was a chance it could work.

"Did you also live in this town?" Newt asked her all of a sudden.

Sara was surprised for a moment. "No. I lived up north. A town called Wiseman."

Newt closed his eyes. "I want to know anything you haven't told me about yourself," he said, and Sara furrowed her eyebrows. Why this now? "I wanna make sure I know everything about you before I go, now that things aren't like we wanted."

His words were so hopeless and decisive, but she tried to withhold her urge to cry. He didn't need any more of her tears. She hated how everything he said was final, and nothing could convince him otherwise. He was killing himself already.

Not knowing what else to say, she just mumbled a bunch of random facts about herself, every word feeling as empty as herself. That is, until she began to tell him about the sweet things.

"I was born and raised in Alaska, but I'm also of European origin. Like you," she whispered.

"Where am I from again?" he asked, peering an eye open.

"England."

"Why doesn't Lizzy have an accent like mine, then?" he asked. "Aren't we both from there?"

Sara remembered having the same conversation with Newt's sister years back. "Yeah, but you guys moved here before she could even talk. Then she was taught to speak without a British accent. You already had yours, and you didn't wanna lose it."

Newt nodded, seeming to accept that response, then he furrowed his eyebrows. "Where are you from then?"

"My dad was from Italy, and he met my mom when he moved to America. So, I guess that makes me half Italian," she replied.

"Do you speak Italian?" he kept going, and Sara noticed the light conversation was doing him good. He was content, smiling slightly, like he had already settled for his fate but was happy to be with her like that.

"Almost nothing," Sara chuckled. "But I'll always remember what my dad used to call my mom all the time."

Newt smiled as he looked up at her. "What was it?"

Sara got lost in her memory, staring off at nothing in particular as she remembered her father surprising her mother with a present, or simply twirling her around in the kitchen. They looked at each other and he would always call her the same way, making her giggle, and then they would kiss.

"Amore mio."

She looked down at Newt, and his eyes shined with fascination. He tried to pronounce it, but with his accent, it sounded way off, yet it was adorable. They both burst out laughing, forgetting their problems for a moment. 

"What does it mean, though?" he asked. "Sounds so fancy."

"It means 'my love.' And that's about all the Italian I know," she replied, then laughed.

"It's sweet, though," he said, raising his hand to stroke her cheek with the back of his finger. "I'm really happy you have good memories with your family." His tone had an underlying sadness to it, and Sara was uneasy about it, really hoping he didn't ask about his. "Amore mio," he added again, getting better at saying it, which made Sara grin.

Suddenly, they heard noises outside, and they quickly perked up, listening carefully.

"We need to hide. Now," said Rebecca as they scrambled out of the living room.

"It's WICKED, isn't it?" Newt asked, annoyed, as if he and Sara hadn't had that sweet little conversation just seconds ago.

"I don't know," Sara replied as they all ran and hid in one of the bedrooms.

They heard the main door burst open, and the sound of voices and footsteps kept getting closer.

Sara held her breath, really not appreciating the déjà vu. It was like that memory was toying with her, willing to chase her down and interrupt any other memory she ever had of home. As they were expecting it, the bedroom door also burst open, still making them flinch.

"Hm, what have we got here?" she heard a man say. They looked over at the man, and he was pointing a gun. There were a couple of people behind him, all with a gun in hand. And they had actual firearms and shotguns, which were worse than launchers given that they could actually kill.

But since life as Sara knew it was full of surprises, this wasn't WICKED, nor Cranks. Not even close to either one.