A/N: Yay, done with finals! It's been a while since I've had the time to write anything, but it's a new semester so I should be able to crank out (Crank, haha) plenty more chapters more regularly for a decent amount of time. Also, have any of you guys watched the Death Cure? Because I'm pretty sure it broke me... well, enjoy-

Chapter 11

229.05.28 / 7:56 a.m.

You froze, staring in shock at the man sitting before you. Your feet were glued to the floor, your arms to your sides. You couldn't have moved if you wanted to.

"(Y/N)," your father said again, almost pleadingly. Paige stood to the side, watching, probably analyzing, probably recording every second so she could pour over it later and add it to your file.

He looked different than you remembered, bigger, not as muscular, yet his face was very much like the face that lurked in the dark recessions of your memories. His hair was longer, tied back in a dark messy ponytail, his beard just as grizzly and eating up half his face. His likeness might remind someone of a bear, big and tall with broad shoulders, maybe a lumberjack, but he had kind eyes. Brown eyes, almost black. They looked defeated now, and scared, nothing like how he'd been when you were young, determined, excited for the prospect of a new life. Would he still have gone if he'd known they were going to kidnap his only daughter? Did they treat him just as badly? All the questions you wanted to ask, but your lips wouldn't move. Your tongue felt dry and swollen and too big and clumsy for your mouth.

"D-dad." Your voice shook despite your best efforts to stay calm. The last thing you wanted was for Paige to get the satisfaction she was looking for in springing something like this on you. So you stood up a little straighter and walked closer to your father, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, staring up at you anxiously. "It's been a long time."

He laughed humorlessly and nodded, clasping his hands together in his massive lap. "Yes, indeed it has. You're so big now. A beautiful young woman."

Tears very suddenly sprung to your eyes and you blinked quickly to keep them from falling. "Yeah, well, I haven't seen you since I was twelve."

"I've missed you, darling." He was on his feet now, and before he could get anything else out your legs were propelling you into his arms and he pulled you into him without a moment's hesitation. He held your head to his chest and you felt his warmth and comfort wash over you, something you never thought you'd feel again.

"I missed you too," you whispered into his shirt, which was now wet with tears.

You held each other for a long time before breaking away, and as you sat down beside your father you didn't miss the small, infuriating smile Paige flashed you.

You didn't even know where to begin. Should you ask where he'd been? Why he'd left you for all those years without any means of communication? Had he been watching you, all these years?

"So," he said quietly, letting his gaze drift to the floor. "You're probably very confused right now, and scared. And you have every right to be."

You could only nod.

"I just want you to know-" he took a shaky breath -- "I never stopped thinking about you. There wasn't one day I wasn't worried or missing you. I want you to know I didn't abandon you."

You paused. "But you did." The words sprung from your mouth without any memory of forming them. Your father glanced up at you, expression a mix of surprise and sadness.

"I did what I was told. I had a job, you were safe and with kids your age. They told me, if I tried to contact you it would compromise the entire experiment, the cure, and that wasn't something I wanted to be responsible for."

You mulled this over, chewing your top lip, fidgeting with your shaking fingers. Then, you turned to Paige. "You said that?" you asked her bitterly.

She looked taken aback, but with a reluctant shake of her head walked over and took a seat beside you. "(Y/N)," she said gently, reaching out to set a comforting hand on your knee. You swatted her away. "Once he enrolled you to be a part of this, a part of our journey to find a cure, you were, excuse my terminology, a test subject. And what if we'd let you have contact with your father, while every other person here wouldn't, some of their parents already dead from the Flare? What kind of experiment would we be running? I know it wasn't ideal, but we've made so much progress. And you and your father stayed safe, albeit separated. Isn't that better than stuck out there?" She gestured to the door with her head. "In a world crawling with the diseased? You wouldn't have lasted much longer as you were."

You stared at the palms of your hands, slick with sweat, and wiped them on your pants. Your father coughed into his fist. The silence in the room was almost deafening. Paige looked uncomfortably into your face which you were pretty sure was beet red.

"You separated me from the only family I have because of a fucking test?"

Even Paige seemed to sense the danger in your voice because she got to her feet again and took a few steps back. "(Y/N), you have to understand, these were extreme circumstances-"

"He could've been dead for all I knew!"

"But now you know he's safe!"

You stood up on shaky legs and walked towards the door. Then back to the table. Paige's eyes were wide and scared, following your movements nervously. "You guys have kept me here, working, for years," you spat. "And I've gone along with it, all nice and compliant, but it's not enough for you to just take my friends? You had to take my father away too?"

"(Y/N), you know as well as anyone that the Variables-"

"Oh, screw your Variables! Is that the only excuse you guys have for anything?"

You were aware of a slight pounding behind your head, and you pressed your palms into your eyes, still pacing back and forth.

"I guess I should stop expecting you to behave rationally," Paige sighed, checking her watch as if you'd just become the least of her worries. "You're much too emotional. Which, in the Killzone is an excellent trait to have, but in logical situations... let's just say this whole business will look much better on screen."

You glowered at her. You wanted to scream, to lunge at her and wipe that cool expression off her face. To tear her hair out of that stupidly tight bun. Instead, you glanced over to see your father standing beside you, a hand out as if he was afraid you'd try to tackle him.

"(Y/N)," he said softly. "You have to understand what's at stake here. It was painful, yes, but look how far we've come -- and they were nice enough to arrange this meeting. They let me see my girl again. Doesn't that count for something?"

The overwhelming sadness in his voice hit you, your anger evaporating quickly. Now you sat down again, defeated, unsure of whether you wanted to crawl back to bed or hold on to your father and not let go.

"You don't care at all about what they did?"

"All I care about is that you're safe," he said firmly, and you knew he meant it. "The next thing is to save the human race, and they believe you can help with that. I believe it too."

You looked between Paige and your father, mind going a million miles a second. You weren't quite sure what Paige was up to, but you could tell by the smile she was trying to smother it wasn't good.

"Listen to your father, (Y/N), it's in your best interest," she said curtly. You felt angry tears sting your eyes and wiped them away roughly with your sleeve.

"Will we ever get to see each other again?" you asked quietly after a long silence, not quite sure who the question was directed at. It was Paige that answered.

"As long as you give us your cooperation, you can continue to have weekly visits with your father."

Despite everything, you felt your heart leap to your throat and bit back a smile. "Fine. Whatever."

She had sounded so sure. So confident, and you could imagine going to see your father regularly, after a long workday. Even after your friends left, after Newt left, he would be there; you'd have someone to talk to about everything.

Your father walked around and pulled you to your feet into another hug. You wrapped your arms around his giant chest and he kissed the top of your head, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you," he whispered before Paige guided him back to his chair. It became apparent by her expression, and how the guard who had appeared behind you was moving in that you were being asked to leave.

"I'll get to see him again, right?" you asked, pointing an accusing finger at Paige. The guard behind you set a hand on your shoulder, gripping so hard his nails dug through your shirt into your skin.

With a tight smile, Paige nodded. "You have my word."

With that and one last glance at your father, you were taken from the room. The guard let you go at the end of the hallway, you glancing down at your watch. You were late for math.

Paige's angry smirk had been replaced with your dad's smiling face in the back of your mind as you walked easily down to the elevators and to your next class, deciding there was no point in sticking around for the last ten minutes before Calculus was over. You couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you would be able to see your father again, after so many years.

Then, you thought, why?

You hadn't stopped to wonder why Paige, why WICKED was doing this. They'd separated you from your father for a reason, so why, in the midst of the chaos of the maze, had they brought him back to you?

What was Paige planning?

229.05.28 / 7:43 p.m.

"Wait, you got you see your dad?"

Minho was staring across from you at the cafeteria table, wide-eyed and in awe.

You rubbed your arms nervously and nodded. "She just called me to a meeting room and there he was, plain as day. He looks almost exactly how I remember him."

Minho turned incredulously to Thomas, who was sitting beside him, staring at his hands thoughtfully. "Can you believe these shanks? They kill all our parents but this girl is reunited with her father? How the hell does that work?"

"If it makes you feel any better, he's working for WICKED," you sighed, slumping against the cold metal tabletop.

As soon as you could you'd recited everything about that morning to your friends -- you'd had to tell somebody, and since you and Newt weren't talking at the moment, Minho and Thomas were your next best options. As you'd relayed the story you'd watched the evident surprise spread across their faces.

"That's sorta messed up," Thomas agreed. "They're probably using him though, right? They gotta be -- WICKED never does anything if they don't gain one thing or another from it."

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. "Yeah, I know, but I can't help it can I? I haven't seen him in years. He could've been dead for all I knew, so who cares if they get a few more Variables from me in the process, right?"

Minho was scraping the food on his plate back and forth with his fork, the usual fun-loving smile wiped from his face. "You know they'll try to do something eventually," he said darkly. "Just to get something out of you. A reaction or a tiny part of their blueprint."

"Do something? Like what?"

"I dunno," Minho muttered. "But I'm sure they'll have no trouble coming up with something."

Deep down you knew it too. WICKED was never was selfless or thoughtful as they made themselves out to be -- their sole purpose was to find a cure, and that was it. Obviously getting to see your father again played into this somehow, but in the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care."

"At least I know he's not dead."

"Yeah," Thomas said. "For now."