XX

"Chuck ... I'm your sister."

There was a moment of intense silence as Brenda gazed wistfully into the wide, wondering eyes of her little brother. "Chuck..." she whispered, reaching up to intertwine her fingers in his curly locks.

"Get away from him!"

Startled, Brenda jumped slightly and turned her head to see Teresa's slim figure towering over her. She frowned as she gazed quizzically up at her. "Wha..."

"Get away from Chuck!" Teresa snapped, her bright blue eyes now an icy-cold. "For all we know, you could be a murdering kidnapper! You're not touching him!"

Brenda straightened up to her full height so she was neck to neck with Teresa and looked her angrily in the eye. "We saved your ass from that god-damn Maze. Be a little grateful."

"This isn't about me!" Teresa protested as she turned pleading eyes towards Newt. "C'mon, be reasonable. You can't seriously trust these people? They hide out in a hollow, grimy dungeon-like house as if they're a bunch of criminals! What if they're trying to take us back to WCKD?"

Brenda ground her teeth together, trying to stop her flaring temper from erupting. "Listen you!" she spat as she seized Teresa by the shoulder and spun her around to face her. "I know you're not exactly a fan, okay? But the feeling's mutual. The only reason we risked our necks to get you to this 'dungeon' was because of Chuck! You have no idea the kind of hell we've been through to get this far. You can't make those kinds of assumptions about us!"

As Brenda paused to catch her breath, Newt quickly jumped in. Getting to his feet, he placed his hand on Teresa's lower back and said, softly and gently, "She's right, love. We have no idea what's out there. We need their help. But, if it makes you feel better, I'm sure no one will have any objections if you stay with Chuck tonight, right?" he glanced up, his chocolate brown eyes sweeping the room in a questioning glance.

Brenda opened her mouth to protest, mortified by the fact that both Newt and Teresa seemed to be getting a little too cosy, when, suddenly, Vince jumped into the fray. "That's fine. Do whatever you like."

Teresa shot Vince a thankful smile but, as her gaze fell on Brenda, that smile vanished and a deep frown took its place.

Brenda, clenching and unclenching her fists, stepped away from Chuck, almost too scared to let him see the growing fury within her dark eyes.

A few stray tears stung the back of her eyelids but Brenda blinked them away defiantly. She wouldn't give Teresa the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

"Um ... " Thomas did his best to lighten the mood as he stated, "Chuck ... uh ... what do you think about all of this?"

Chuck hesitated before glancing timidly up at Brenda. "I - I'm not sure. It's too much and I ... " he trailed off before whispering, "I just don't remember." Then, he buried his face in his clammy palms and burst into tears.

Newt shot Brenda an irritated look as he bent down and enveloped Chuck in a warm brotherly hug. "Hey, it's okay. We're all here with you. We're in this together, alright?"

Chuck nodded as he wiped away his tears.

Teresa, following Newt's example, crouched down on the floor next to Chuck and looked sympathetically at him. "Would you like to get some sleep, hun? Feeling tired, aren't we?" She placed a hand on Chuck's sweaty fore-head and paused. "He feels really warm."

As if in response to her statement, Chuck staggered back a few steps before collapsing, unconscious, to the floor.

"Chuck!!!" everyone yelled at once as they rushed to his prostate body.

Brenda shoved her way to the front and dropped on her knees beside her brother. She bent down and placed her ear to his chest. She was relieved to find that he was still breathing, however, it was very laboured. "Vince!" Brenda screamed out in desperation. "Get Trisha! Hurry! He's not breathing right!"

As Vince raced out of the room for help, she turned her attention back to Chuck.

Grabbing one of his chubby hands, she murmured, "C'mon, little bro, c'mon. Breathe
for me. Breathe." She didn't bother trying to stop the tears this time. They flowed freely down her cheeks. "Please don't leave me. We didn't get this far just for you to leave. Please Chuck, you can do this. Just breathe."

~~~~

Needless to say, that night was the longest of Brenda's life.

Trish, an elderly woman and retired practitioner residing in the Palace, gave Chuck some medicine, saying that he was just exhausted and needed to rest. Brenda had refused to leave Chuck's bedside, even when Vince, Jorge, and Trish all urged her to go get some sleep. Every two hours, Brenda dosed Chuck up with the needed medication before settling back down next to him on a pile of brightly embroidered cushions. In a hushed whisper, she told him about all their adventures out in the Scorch and how much she'd missed him since his capture five months ago.

It was horrible sitting there, not knowing if he could hear her or not or if he'd ever wake up again. Finally Brenda, drained from the last few months of feverish prep, began to slide into a stage of doze-off-and-on. Her head started to nod against the blankets of the bed, her eyelids flittered shut and her brain slowly began to shut down.

When Vince came back to check on them the next morning, he found Brenda sprawled across the bed next to her brother, fast asleep.

~~~~

With a muffled groan of protest, Brenda forced her eyes to open, squinting against the bright sunlight pouring in from an open window across the room. Groggily, she lifted her head and glanced around, the events of last night flooding her mind in a rush. With a grunt, she
flopped back down onto the bed. Her body was sore. Her arms were sore. Everywhere about her was sore. The muscles in her back and neck ached profusely and her entire right arm was on pins and needles.

It was all the pleasures of sleeping in the wrong position.

Brenda propped herself up onto her elbows and rubbed her eyes. She glanced
down fondly at the still-sleeping Chuck and smiled as she passed her fingers over his fore-head.

The fever had broken.

"Ah! I was wondering when you were going to wake up. It's eight in the morning. Breakfast time!"

Brenda jumped in astonishment and turned around to see Trish standing in the doorway, a tray of pancakes and sausages in her hands. "I thought you might need something," she shrugged as she walked in and set the tray on the nightstand nearby.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," Brenda swung her feet over the side of the bed and onto the floor. She got up and stretched before shuffling sleepily over to the table. She reached forward and grabbed a pancake and a sausage, taking turns at biting into each of them.

"Mmmm, this is so good," she murmured through a mouthful of food.

Trish chuckled as she went over to the bed and checked Chuck's temperature.

"How is he?" Brenda inquired apprehensively.

"He's doing well," Trish responded as she sent Brenda a reassuring smile. "It's just as I suspected; all he needed was some much-needed sleep. I'm going to have to insist, however, that he remain in bed for the next few days in case of a relapse. This buddy's gone through a lot and may be very confused and nervous when he wakes up. In his case, it is probably best that he have familiar faces with him when he does so."

Brenda nodded, a twang of sadness pulling at her heart. "I understand."

"Now, young lady, you're going to get out of this stuffy room and get yourself some fresh air," Trish ordered.

"But ... "

"No! It's not up for discussion!" she stated firmly. "I don't need another sick patient on my hands. Today you are resting - is that clear?"

"Crystal," a deep, throaty voice piped up from behind the two.

Brenda whipped around. "Vince! What? No! You need my help to ... "

"Absolutely not!" Vince shook his head, a frown crinkling his brow. "We're perfectly capable without you for one damn day! I can't you buckling from over-exertion. You rest up today. Tomorrow, we can talk."

Brenda sighed, knowing it was no use to argue any further. "Fine," she muttered grouchily as she stuffed the last of her sausage into her mouth. "But I'm gonna go take a walk first. I need it."

Vince narrowed his eyes at her as he said, "Be careful, okay?"

Brenda brushed him off as she stood up and walked to the doorway. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder and commanded, "Someone watches Chuck around the clock."

"Don't worry," Vince assured her. "I won't leave his side."

Brenda sent him a hint of a smile before trekking out of the room and down the mangy passage leading into the dining room. As she shoved open the creaky, wooden door, she glanced around the room and froze.

Harriet, Aris, Sonya, Jorge and all the prisoners that they had rescued were sitting around the table having a hearty breakfast. Upon hearing her enter, however, they all paused their chatter to look up at her.

"Oh, hey Brenda!" Harriet jumped up from the table to give her friend a hug. "How's Chuck doing?"

Brenda shrugged. "Better."

"Oh. That's good," Harriet sighed with relief. "Poor little chap."

"Trish says he just needs to rest," Brenda explained.

"There's plenty more food if you want it!" Frypan interrupted as he waved his fork towards the dishes on the table.

"I'm good, thanks," Brenda raised her hands. "Carry on."

Without even giving the others a second glance, she continued on past the table towards the front door, grabbing her scarf on the way out.

The streets were unusually quiet and eerie for this time in the morning. A chilly shadow hung over the Flat-Trans population and the vibrant blue of the sky and the warm yellow of the sun were nonexistent, being replaced with a shallow bank of grey clouds.

A bitter cold wind blew down the street, tipping over rusty bins and blowing piles of rubbish across the gravel. A few grubby children played with marbles on their front door-step. An older man hovered around his shop windows, dusting the antique displays.

Casting a cautious glance over her shoulder, Brenda slipped down a small alley-way winding its way around the back wall of the Palace. Hurriedly, she scaled up a fire escape leading onto the tiled roof. As she pulled herself over the ledge, she slowly straightened up, letting her gaze wander over the view before her.

To her right was the unforgiveable, unending Scorch wasteland. To her left was the remains of the charred, run-down Flat-Trans terrain where they were staying. Across the southern horizon, just opposite the bustling capital, alight with life, Brenda could make out the vague silhouette of the enormous Maze walls.

Brenda shivered, but not because of the cold.

She lowered herself onto the roof edge, letting her legs dangle below her. She blew onto her cold hands, the chilly breeze whipping her scarf around her face.

As she continued to scrutinise the cemented walls of the maze, Brenda's mind began to click and whir with thoughts and doubts. WCKD was smart. Too smart. Why on earth would they let the Right-Arm waltz right in and take their subjects straight out from underneath them? Their mission had been easy. Too easy. The terrible gut feeling in the pit of Brenda's stomach twisted itself up into a nervous knot.

What if moving back here had been a mistake?

"Hey."

Upon hearing the familiar tone, Brenda whipped around, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh ... hey."

It was Thomas.

"Can I sit?" he asked.

"Sure," Brenda shrugged.

Thomas settled himself down, clasped his hands in his lap and sighed. "I'd rather die than go back into that Maze," he murmured, his eyes fixated on the distant walls of that hell-hole.

She sent him a sympathetic look. "Yeah ... it must've been horrible."

"I wonder what happened to the others who didn't come with us," Thomas continued soberly.

"I hate to say it, but ... " Brenda hesitated, "If those Grievers didn't kill them, WCKD probably did. They'd have no use for them anymore; not since you all escaped anyway."

"Yeah, well you helped us with that," Thomas gave a short laugh.

Brenda heaved a deep shaky breath. "I - I suppose everyone has brought you up to date on what's happening and who we are?" she tried to divert the subject. "Tell me, d-do you trust us, Thomas?"

Thomas paused before tilting his head back to look at her. "You're the government's enemies, Brenda, the outcasts! What you did, saving us from the Maze ... it was extraordinary and brave. I - I want to thank you, personally, for risking your life to get us out of there."

Brenda chuckled as she glanced over at him. "Everything that we did - it was worth it ... to save you."

Thomas ducked his head, trying to hide the smile twitching his lips. "Thanks, Be."

Brenda raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so now we're on a nickname basis, huh?"

Thomas laughed. It'd been so long since Brenda had heard anyone laugh and it felt good to hear the deep, silvery notes echo through the crisp, morning air. "You can call me Tommy," he spoke up shyly.

Now it was Brenda's turn to laugh. "Alright, Tommy, I'm cool with that."

"A-hem!"

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat caused both Thomas and Brenda to quickly turn around, all merriment gone.

Minho was standing on top of the fire escape, cocking his head towards them. "Ah, I hate to interrupt the little 'love' fest happening up here," he stated sarcastically, "but you're both wanted back inside."

"Why?" Thomas frowned, confused.

Minho heaved a deep breath as he explained, "Chuck's awake."

Gif: Brenda and Thomas as they talk.

Q: Which ship do you prefer? Newt x Teresa or Thomas x Brenda?

~ If you enjoyed this chapter or want to give me feedback on anything, don't hesitate to vote, comment or DM me. I'm open to any suggestions, ideas or constructive criticism. I love chatting with my readers and I love to hear what they think about my writing. However, any hate or negativity posted on here will be deleted and reported. Have a great day everyone! Catch you all soon. ~