(two weeks in)

It had been two weeks now since the Right Arm Camp was destroyed. Everyone had slipped into a new normal at the port. The ship was still being fixed bit by bit and it was a known fact they wouldn't be leaving for while. That was why everyone had a job; whether it was helping with the breakfast, chopping up some of the wood for fires, helping with the repairing of the ship. Nobody had a set job but everybody was expected to pitch in when needed.

"Bea you need to take a break," Thomas told his sister.

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Tom, I'm fine. Okay?" Bea reassured, tilting her head up from the radio she was fixing to make eye contact with her brother, who was standing at the entrance of the room.

"You need a break from this. You need to do something fun. Keeping yourself in this room isn't going to do you any good," he argued, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well waiting until God comes along to magically fix this radio isn't going to do us any good either," Bea countered, glaring at him as she retied one of the wires to the disks. "We need to get our friends back, okay. We-we have to. A-And that's what I'm trying to do, okay?"

Thomas' eyes softened at his stressed-out sister as he walked forwards, crouching down next to her. He slowly took the radio parts out of her hands and placed them on the wooden desk she was working on.

"We will get them back Bea," he sympathised in a mellow tone, "I promise. Since you found this stuff in the basement you've been in this room 24/7. You need to relax. Take a day off - hell, take a few days off. We will get them back but not when you're stressing yourself out."

Bea let out an exhale, nodding slowly. "Okay," she mumbled, giving in to him. She packed away the parts into one of the drawers before turning to face Thomas.

"Fry just finished cooking dinner, let's go eat," Thomas said softly. Bea sighed following him out of her room. Her stomach gurgled and it was only then she realised how hungry she was.

"You finally managed to get her out of that room," Harriet called out once they had made it to the kitchen.

Bea just rolled her eyes, "Shut up Harri." She plopped her self on a chair to the right of Harriet and to the left of Frypan. Immediately she grabbed a fork, digging into the plate of pasta in front of her. The tomato flavours swirled around in her mouth as she swallowed it.

"Have I have I ever told you how much I love your food?" she asked Fry through a mouthful of food.

"I dunno but you won't be able to tell me again if you don't chew the damn food," he scoffed but he was still grinning, "But I appreciate the compliment."

"So how's the radio coming along?" Harriet asked, taking a gulp of water. Bea shuddered, her eyes trailing across the table to meet Thomas' who digging into his own bowl of food.

"I don't even wanna talk about that right now," she groaned to which Thomas let out a small laugh.

"That bad, huh?" Frypan questioned, raising an eyebrow. Bea pulled a face, telling him everything he needed to know.

"Also, Vince wanted to do bonfire tonight - since we've settled down here now and also because everyone's been a bit depressed lately," she added to which everyone agreed with her statement. She quickly wiped her lips with a napkin before discarding it. "I'll meet y'all out there in a bit. I need to help him set it up. Bye!" The group waved at her as she exited the room, out onto the beach area.

Bea let out a breath, finishing her last forkful of pasta. Her stomach was now satisfied and Thomas was right - it was good to get out of the planning room.

"Hey Fry, where's Newt?" Thomas asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

The dark-skinned boy shrugged, "I don't know, man. The last time I saw him was after lunch. That boy's been in a world of his own lately." Thomas nodded slowly, acknowledging Fry's words.

"Hello chicos."

Bea's grin grew at the familiar Spanish male voice.

"Here for you're third bowl of pasta?" Thomas smirked, enjoying winding up the old man.

"Mierda, what sort of person do you take me for?" Jorge gasped dramatically.

"Hello Jorge," Bea greeted as the man sat down next to her, "Is Brenda still in her room."

The old man sighed, nodding, "I keep trying to convince to come out but she won't listen to me."

"She's not even showing any symptoms anymore. She's got Thomas' magic blood so she should be okay. For now anyways," she complained, whispering the last part to herself. "You're coming to the bonfire right?"

"Yep," he replied before turning to Fry.

"Hermano do you think you could spare me any more of your pasta."

---

Bea sat by herself, leaning against a log, watching the bonfire from afar. She watched the people enjoy themselves and have fun. They deserved it after everything they had been through. The fire glowered, rich flames of red and orange swirled around chunks of wooden logs. Even at the distance away she was, she could still feel the heat, the warmth pricking at her skin.

"Hey."

Her eyes snapped up to see Thomas with two mugs in his hands. He passed one to her to which she gratefully took, the heat from the drink passing through the metal mug into her hands. She offered him a thankful smile as he plopped himself down on the sand next to her.

"You enjoying yourself yet?" he asked, taking a sip of the hot chocolate in his own mug. Not even seconds later he spat the contents out, fanning his tongue with his hands. "Jesus Christ!"

Bea burst out laughing, attempting to muffle the noise with her hand. Her brother just playfully glared at her, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Not funny."

"Well," Bea hummed in contemplation, "It was a bit funny."

"Whatever," he grumbled, rolling his eyes, "You still didn't answer my question."

"Yeah. I am," she answered truthfully, "I am enjoying myself. Thank you."

"What are brothers for?" he grinned cheesily. Bea just smiled, shaking her head slightly as she took a small sip of hot chocolate. She sighed in satisfaction as they slipped into a comfortable silence, watching their friends have fun around the bonfire.

After a few minutes Thomas stuffed his a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden item. He fiddled with it in his hand, grazing his finger along the well-done curved edges.

"What's that?" Bea asked, her eyes flickering in between Thomas' face and the small item. She never expected the thing he said next to come out in such a soft, fragile voice.

"It was Chuck's."

She tilted her head to the side in confusion, having never heard his name before.

"He was in the maze with me," he began to explain, "He...was my best friend."

Bea's eyes softened at her brother, "Was?"

Thomas let out a shaky breath, propping the carved wooden item into Bea's hands. "He died when we were escaping. He-he died saving my life."

Bea traced the curved of the wooden figure, listening to Thomas' words intently. "What-how did he save your life?"

"There was-uh," he faltered, clearing his throat before speaking again, "There was this other guy in our maze. Never liked me. He had a gun I-I don't know where he got it from. B-But he was trying to shoot me. Chuck moved in front of me a-and because of that he died. Saving me cost him his life. He-he died because of me."

Bea sighed, placing the item in Thomas' lap before squeezing his arm lightly. "Thomas this isn't you're fault, okay. You need to stop blaming your self. Chuck...he died a hero and he should be remembered as that. But it isn't your fault he died so you need to stop thinking it is."

Thomas turned to face his sister, his eyes glossy with tears and his bottom lip was trembling. "I promised him, Bea," he whispered shakily, "I-I promised him he would meet his parents. He didn't get to. And-and I miss him. I miss him so much."

The younger brunette girl placed her mug on the ground before wrapping her arms around her brother's neck, pulling him into a hug. Thomas let his tears fall, lightly sobbing into Bea's shoulder. He placed his own mug on the floor, wrapping his arms around her torso.

After a few minutes, once he had calmed down, she pulled away cupping his face with her hands. "Now," she said softly, gently wiping away with the pads of her thumbs, "Enough of this. Let's enjoy tonight, okay?"

He nodded solemnly, turning back to face the bonfire, clutching his mug in his right hand. They fell into another silence, a new calm, as they watched people laugh and dance around burning fire. Bea could make out Harriet's figure, chatting with Vince. She could also see Fry and Jorge huddled together in a corner drinking hot chocolate. The only person who wasn't there was Newt. Apart from the fact that he despised her, there was something off about him that she couldn't quite lay her finger on.

"What's you're favourite colour?"

Bea raised an eyebrow at Thomas, "What?"

"I asked what your favourite colour is..." he repeated.

"Yes I gathered that," she snorted, rolling her eyes, "But why are you asking me."

Thomas opened him mouth before closing it like a fish. "I just-um, realised I don't really know you that well," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed red, "I mean-like you're my sister, I want to-uh know you.....well?"

Bea laughed at he brother's awkwardness, taking a large gulp of her drink before speaking again. "Aw aren't you a cute older brother," she cooed, pinching his bright red cheeks.

"Stop it," he grumbled, swatting her hand away, "But seriously, what is your favourite colour?"

She licked her lips, pausing to think for a few seconds. "Blue."

"Elaborate."

"Sky Blue. Sky blue is my favourite colour," she decided firmly, "Y'know when we escaped WCKD it kinda didn't set in what we had actually done until the next day. After we climbed to the top of the abandoned mall and we could see everything. The sky was just so blue. It kinda just sunk in at that moment that I had made it out of WKCD. That's why Sky blue is my favourite. My favourite type of blue."

"Wow," Thomas murmured, "I never expected a deep answer."

"Well you asked for me to elaborate so I elaborated," she scoffed, "You're turn. What's you're favourite colour."

"Green," he answered, almost immediately.

"Elaborate," Bea mimicked causing him to glare at her with annoyance.

"The Glade was green. Back then I hated being there - I would still hate being there but...it gave me a sense of home. And now....all that's left is sand and destroyed buildings. Hardly any green left. But the Glade was green everywhere. I guess that's why I like the colour so much now."

"Deep."

"Oh shut up" he scowled, lightly jabbing her left side and then he froze.

"Oh my god. You're hip- I forget-I'm sorry," he quickly rambled, "Did that hurt? Is your hip okay? What about the stitches?"

Bea smiled, shaking her head at her brother, "Its fine, Tom. Harriet found one of the Right Arm doctors to redo my stitches basically the second we got here. She gave me anesthetic so I was asleep otherwise I would have been a right mess."

His concerned face deflated, visibly relaxing at the news. "Okay good," he mumbled. He chucked an arm over he shoulder to which she shuffled into his side, crossing one of her legs over the other.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jorge making his way over to them. He rubbed his hands together, grinning at the siblings.

"Hello chicos," he greeted, "I may need your guys help with something."

"Sure. What's up?" Thomas responded.

"I need your guys help convincing Fry to give me another bowl of pasta," he spoke urgently, a sincere look plastered on his face. Thomas and Bea glanced at each other before groaning simultaneously,

"Jorge!"

authors note:

I hope you guys liked this chapter ;) I wanna thank @-LIAMDUNBAR for helping me with a bit of inspo. anyways don't forget to vote and comment.

Love K :) xx