THE SURVIVOR!
a way in.

MARG!

   𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊, their gazes often shifting from Margaret to Gally. From the moment the twins had reunited, they hadn't left each other's side. Gally had explained what had happened following the events in the lab WICKED took them from, how he'd been rescued by what seemed to be the most extreme part of the rebellion.

While Gally had only spoken highly of the militia he was a part of, Margaret couldn't help but feel like something was amiss. As her twin led them to the leader, Lawrence, the red-head allowed herself to slow her pace, calculating eyes trained on each person they were walking past. While some people dared to meet the teen's eyes, Marg's hard features and stern look seemed to be enough to cause them to turn their back on her almost immediately.

It was almost as if Newt had read her mind, for the sandy-haired boy had soon appeared by Margaret's side, his fingers lacing with the girl's before giving her hand a tight squeeze.

"What is it?" The boy whispered, eyes trained forward in order not to attract any unwanted attention. "Still mad they took your axe from you?"

Margaret ran her tongue against her upper teeth, clenching them tightly as she leaned against her boyfriend. Newt's arm soon circled her waist, his cheek pressed against the top of her head due to their height difference. While the relationship between the two was very much real, their public show of affection was a mere tactic Marg had picked on to manipulate others into thinking she was less of a threat than what she'd appeared to be.

"Keep your eyes peeled; I don't trust these people." Before Newt could even reply, Margaret cut him off. "Why are they scared of me, if earlier on they were ready to run into a rain of bullets?" She rhetorically queried, causing the sandy-haired boy to quirk a brow as she gently elbowed him and jutted her chin towards a burly man who looked at her as if she was a Griever. "As for my axe – if that woman ruins it, I am so gonna make her pay for it.".

The two didn't have any time to continue their conversation, for soon enough Gally led the Group to a heavily guarded room. The smell of flowers was almost intoxicating, yet not in a right way whatsoever, for it was so strong it caused some members of the Group to scrunch their noses, while others exchanged perplexed gazes.

As they descended a set of stairs, Margaret left Newt's side to stand by Thomas. Over the months, the two co-Leaders had perfected the art of silent conversation; all it took was a look, a small shift in their facial expression, for one to understand what the other was thinking. Marg folded her arms against her chest, raising her right brow and slowly shaking her head once as she exchanged a quick look with Thomas. The message was clear; play along, but don't get fooled.

Before them, stood a man hooked to a tube, an armed guard on his side. The man's features were hidden, for he stood in the darkness with his back turned to the rest of them, as he addressed Margaret's twin, his voice deep, yet as void of emotion as Marg's own eyes.

"Gally," Lawrence, the man who Margaret assumed to be the leader of the militia, greeted her twin. "Glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me what happened."

"It was a slaughter," Gally explained, his tone causing Marg to clench her teeth, for it seemed her twin truly trusted the man before them. "There's nothing we can do against those guns."

"No – but they can only poke the hornets' nest so long before they get stung. Now, who are these people? Why are they here?"

Before Margaret could even react, Thomas had already stepped forward, her previous warning seemingly long forgotten as he shared their true intentions with the unknown man. "We need to get into WICKED. Gally said you could get us through the walls.".

"Gally should know better than to make promises he can't keep." Lawrence's uncaring nature and nonchalance were enough to set Margaret's nerves aflame. The red-head quickly stepped forward, Frypan and Levi's pleas to stay out of it falling on deaf ears.

A bitter chuckle left Marg's lips, her icy demeanor successfully attracting the attention of everyone who stood in the room. She could feel Gally's shocked glance, and she couldn't fault her twin for reacting that way; the girl he remembered was no more, Margaret had buried her in the depths of her Maze right after she'd witnessed the first death of one of her Survivors. Her reaction, however, elicited a different kind of response from the damaged leader of the militia, whose eyes trailed over the red-head's scarred body. She'd long discarded her overcoat, most of her scarred body bare and visible by all those who surrounded her.

"Funny," Margaret coldly stated, her eyes meeting Lawrence's without as much as a flinch. "From where I stand, you have a bigger arsenal and better intelligence than what we've ever had, yet we've managed to take down outposts before." A click of a gun echoed in the room, Thomas' arm shooting before her to prevent Marg from stepping forward, yet the teen quickly shoved past her friend only to take a step closer to the militia's leader. Her actions had done the trick, for Lawrence lifted one hand in the air and ordered his guard to stand down. "You think you're the only one who WICKED managed to crash, maim and strip of their old identity? Look at me." The red-head took a step forward, now fully bathed in what little light reached the room. Once she was sure the man had seen her scarred body, Margaret stepped back, coming to a stop beside Thomas once more.

Lawrence's lips tugged upwards in what was meant to be a smile, yet looked far more like a grimace. His gaze soon left Margaret, only to fall onto a slightly wide-eyed Gally. "Who is she? Do you know her?".

Marg's eyes found Gally's, a hint of a reassuring smile appearing on the girl's lips before vanishing as fast as a shooting star. "She's my twin sister." Gally quickly stated, his choice to share enough with the man to convince him to help them, yet not too much information to compromise them, causing Margaret's chest to swell with pride.

"I see." Lawrence dwarled before focusing his attention on Margaret. "The wall is the least of your problem; getting inside WICKED is impossible."

"There might be a way now." Gally's statement gained everyone's attention, Marg's included. "But it doesn't work without Thomas." He added.

"Is that so?" The screeching sound of wheels accompanied each step Lawrence took forward, light slowly illuminating his features; holes stood where his nose was supposed to be, large black scales covered almost the entirety of the right side of his face, fading into equally dark veins down his neck, what must have once been his hairline had faded into nothingness, leaving part of his scalp bare. "You know what I am, Thomas and Gally's sister?" Neither Margaret nor Thomas faltered as the man, who was far closer to a crank than a human being, leaned closer to the two of them, only inches separating him from the two co-Leaders. "I am a businessman." He whispered, rotten breath fanning over their cheeks. "Which means that I don't take unnecessary risks. Why should I trust either of you?"

"' Cause we can help you." Thomas calmly stated.

"And because you need our help," Marg added, cold eyes meeting Lawrence's.

"You see, if you can get us through those walls, we can get you what you need." Thomas' offer gained Lawrence's attention, for his eyes scanned the two co-Leaders, clearly trying to understand if they were lying to him.

"Because, whatever you're planning for –" Margaret whispered, stopping Lawrence from further questioning her friend. "There is one thing you truly need to see it through." Leaning forward, just as the man had previously done with them, Marg's face stopped inches from his damaged one.

With a sly grin, the red-head reached for the bag containing a blue liquid similar to the one she'd seen months before when they'd first arrived at the Right Arm's camp. However, much to Margaret's surprise, the liquid inside Lawrence's bag looked slightly different.

While the serum the man was using was a deep shade of light blue, the one Mary had once extracted by using Thomas' blood was faintly lighter. However, it was the liquid that Mary had created by using Margaret's blood that indeed differed from the one contained in the bag before her, for hers was a deep, dark blue. Regardless of the panic and fear of possibly losing Newt, the red-head had noticed Mary's shocked look, the way her lips had parted almost in disbelief as she'd muttered a low 'It can't be.'. How could the same serum have three different shades? What did it mean?

No one, not even her twin, had noticed how her thoughts had drifted from the matter at hand. Marg had become unreadable; a real soldier built for one purpose only, survival. The only person who could have read her like an open book now stood several feet behind her. Newt was probably staring at the scene with bated breath, assuming his girlfriend was merely playing the soon-to-be-crank with her silence.

With her face still, Marg slowly moved her gaze onto the plastic bag, fingers slowly tracing the empty space. To an untrained eye, her actions might have seemed odd, even disturbing, to say the least, yet all Margaret was doing was mimicking Lawrence's previous approach. "You need to be yourself, alive, and, for that, you need more serum." Arm falling back to her side, Margaret's eyes locked with the man's, her expression morphing into a deadly serious one as she finally muttered "More time."

Lawrence tsked, his eyes trailing towards Gally before focusing once more on Margaret's, whose face remained ever so close to his own. "Is that what I need?" He queried, stinking breath fanning over the teen who raised a brow in a challenging manner before the man's eyes focused on Thomas.

"WICKED has something we both want," Thomas stated.

"I'll tell you what. I was going to allow only two of you to go for now –" Gally took a step forward, some members of the Group mimicking his actions, as Lawrence delivered his final offer. Before anyone could move any further, however, the militia's leader parted his thin, almost invisible lips, once more. "But I'll allow her to go too. It's a pity we didn't find you with your twin." Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret noticed Gally's suddenly stiff posture. "You're far more ruthless than any kid we've ever found – than most of my men." He was testing them, that much Marg was aware of. All she could do was hope that no one would give in. "The rest, however, stays here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you find your way back. We have a deal?"

They were out of options; therefore, Margaret did the only thing she could. Taking Lawrence by surprise, the red-head raised her right hand for him to shake, an eerie smile stretching onto the militia's leader face as his hand shook hers. Stepping beside her co-Leader, Marg allowed Thomas to do the same, only for the man to keep the brunette's hand in his as he smirked. "Gally, show them the way."

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   No one spoke as Gally led them to the room they would have used to exit the hide-out. Nancy was holding Levi's hand, her white knuckles standing out against her otherwise sun-kissed complexion, while most of the others walked side by side, occasionally glancing at their surroundings.

As the room in question came into view, Margaret swiftly pushed Newt into a small alcove, both hands gripping his shoulders. "Show me your skin." What was meant to be a question came out as a demand that left no room for debate. "Now, Newt. Please." The red-head eyes bore into the sandy-haired boy's, her tone cracking ever so slightly as nerves wracked her body.

Margaret couldn't shake the thoughts that had arisen due to the color of the serum Lawrence was using. Fear wracked her body, for she refused even to entertain the idea of Newt perishing due to the illness that had already decimated humankind.

"Why –?"

"I am begging you." Four words. Four words that, had they come from anyone else, would have held little to no emotional meaning. However, as those words left Marg's lips, Newt's features softened, for the red-head had only ever begged once before; the day she thought Newt would have died.

Having told Frypan that they would have joined them in a few minutes, Newt slowly got rid of his clothes, letting the fabric fall onto the dusty floor without care. Only a fool would have thought the two hadn't seen one another's bare skin already, for they were so much in love, all they could picture was a future with one another. Margaret's touch was gentle, her fingers running over every inch of Newt's skin as her eyes inspected the surface. She left no stone unturned, her eyes studying the blank – yet slightly scarred from his years in his Maze and with the Group – canvas that was her boyfriend's body.

A sigh left Marg's lips, forehead against Newt's bare knee. "Clean." She whispered, hands running against the bottom of her boyfriend's foot – the last bit of skin she'd just checked. "You're not infected."

Newt stifled a chuckle, quickly redressing himself as Margaret leaned against the wall opposite him. "You were there when Mary gave me your serum, remember? Let's not forget that you've been checking to make sure I was okay for months now – even my ears."

Margaret snorted, shaking her head before placing a tender kiss on Newt's lips. "No –"

"Stone left unturned." Newt finished her sentence, mouth dangerously close to the red-head's.

"Oh, shuck – really?!" Gally's growl caused both teens to turn to the disgusted-looking boy. "Now? Of all times, now? That's my twin, slinthead!"

"And he's my boyfriend, Gally," Margaret replied, mimicking her twin's voice and causing the latter to roll his eyes. "Deal with it." The red-head patted Gally on the shoulder before joining the rest of the group standing around a hole.

"Be careful, Big Boss." Nancy's voice caused the red-head to snap towards the only two other remaining Survivors.

Amused by the younger teen's sternness, Margaret neared the duo with her signature smirk. "When am I not?" For the first time since she'd reunited with Gally, the red-head took in the two Survivors before her. Her chest swelled with pride, for both teens had grown a lot ever since they first arrived at their old Maze, yet her gaze halted on Nancy's hand gripping onto Levi's as if her life depended on it. Arching a brow, Margaret scanned both teens' faces, jutting her chin at their hands. "Everything okay, Nancy?"

The younger girl squared her shoulders, her jaw tightening so little only a select few would have been able to notice it. "Just keeping each other alive, we don't trust these people." While Marg didn't buy the excuse Nancy had just conjured up, she decided not to pry any further, for, back in the day, she'd taught both of them to always clue her in whatever was a matter of utmost importance. The red-head trusted Nancy; therefore, she also trusted her to make the right call.

Margaret gave them a quick nod, her stern gaze fixed on both teens. "I trust you not to be shittin' me." It was odd how easily Marg could fall back into her former 'commander' position, her tone causing both teens to straighten up their postures as they both replied with a quick 'Yes, Big Boss. We know, Big Boss.' in unison. "Keep an eye on them, Fry." The boy in question, who'd grown to become one of Margaret's best friends, smiled before engulfing her in a quick hug. As soon as the two parted, Marg followed Thomas down the ladder, Newt joining her half a second later.

And, just like that, they were engulfed in darkness.

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   Margaret had never thought anything could smell worse than a Griever's breath, yet the sewers they were walking through proved her wrong.

Each one of their steps echoed within the walls, feet stomping in water tainted by contents Marg preferred not to know the origin of. While Newt and Thomas decided to walk a few feet behind them, Margaret had fallen into step with Gally.

To say that Margaret had many questions for her twin would have been a rather big understatement, yet it looked like the same could be said for Gally. "Your Maze – how was it?" It was as if asking such thing pained him, guilt washing over his features.

It was a loaded question, and one Marg wasn't sure she'd be able to answer honestly, for it brought back painful memories, some of which she was not yet ready to share. "Rough. Our walls never closed. I don't think WICKED expected any of us to make it out of there."

"It should have been me. You shouldn't have asked those scientists to switch our places."

A bitter chuckle escaped the red-head lips as she shook her head. "I never regretted that choice. Even if only by a few minutes, I am still your older sister – it's my job to look after you, it always was and always will be. I only regret not being there when you needed me." Newt had told Marg all he knew about Gally's experience in their Maze; how her twin had been stung and made it through regardless of the fact they had no injections to help with the process. Surviving after being stung was a tricky matter to begin with; the serum didn't stop the high probability of dying, yet it did somewhat help better the odds. However, many had often said death would have been a kinder fate than being forced to remember past events swiped from their memories. Margaret loathed the fact that she hadn't been able to be there for him. "Each time I got stung, I remembered more and more. I remembered you, dad, and even mom." The red-head's voice cracked.

Gally merely nodded, his large, calloused hand squeezing Margaret's. "You were the first person I remembered when I got stung – you, and other people." The boy tilted his head, eying Thomas who busy talking with a rather calm Newt. "I blamed him. When he first showed up in our Maze, all I wanted was to make him pay for where they'd sent you – for his part in it.".

Bumping her shoulder with her twin's, Margaret managed to get his eyes to leave the brunette's figure. "If it weren't for Thomas, a lot of us wouldn't even be alive. He was the one I gave my journals to, the same ones he then gave to the Right Arm, who saved many of us. And still – you tried to kill him." The red-head snorted, chuckling at the insane situation they currently found themselves in.

"Not my proudest moment," Gally admitted – his smirk a carbon copy of his twin's. "What can I say, nobody's perfect."

"Fuck, if it weren't for the fact we're walking in shit, I'd call this the best reunion I could have ever hoped for." Marg flapped her arms on the sides, her hand falling onto the cold surface of the only weapon she'd been given upon, apparently, 'having impressed the militia's leader.'. For some weird reason, the girl felt almost complete with her axe tied against her waist. It was as if the weapon itself had become nothing but a mere extension of her being.

Gally laughed. The boy's laughter had caused the two walking beside the siblings to halt, shocked to see the boy they'd only ever seen either angry or sulking, happy. Margaret, however, found herself soon joining in, her laughter all so similar to her twin's.

The two siblings were very much alike; those who did not make the connection sooner found themselves questioning how they could have missed it.

"Put your overcoat on," Gally said, passing the piece of clothing to Margaret as he halted before a door. The red-head didn't even question her twin, quickly sliding the uncomfortable dark-blue material onto her shoulders and covering her head with the hood, a battered light-blue scarf covering the majority of her face.

Before they even knew it, the four found themselves stepping amongst a large crowd of well-dressed adults, some wearing masks as a form of protection against the spreading virus. Gally moved with ease as if he'd breached the grounds more than once. Leading the three members of the Group, Marg's twin took them to an overpass from which they could see almost the entirety of the city.

If it weren't for who was responsible for the construction of such a place – and that the majority of those who lived there was probably well aware of what was being done to innocent kids and teens – Margaret would have probably looked at the place differently. Instead of awe, anger and bitterness were the only emotions one could notice by merely looking at the red-head.

Tall, lit up buildings towered over the place, screens transmitting different messages on some of them. The city looked in perfect shape as if spared by the virus that had claimed so many lives. In the distance, a screen transmitted a pointed message that caused Margaret's blood to boil; 'WCKD WANTS YOU.' This wasn't a city; it was a mere extension of the organization that had used them as human lab rats for years.

Marg almost scoffed as the image of a flyer she'd once caught while running after her twin came back to her – 'America Wants You' it read. This city, this new world, had been morphed into WICKED's image. It felt almost pointless to remember things such as what the world once used to be. Her father used to tell her about a time when things weren't so dire, when soldiers didn't fill cities, and dead bodies of humans' shells turned into cranks by the virus didn't litter the streets. If WICKED now ran the place, Margaret wanted to torch down the entire organization, root and stem.

"This is a long way from the Glade." Newt voiced, sounding just as shocked as the red-head as he stared ahead.

"Is it wrong that I want to burn it down?" Margaret queried rather nonchalantly, causing the three boys to stare at her in disbelief. "No torching. Got it. It was just an idea." The red-head shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was in times like these the girl truly understood how much her Maze had changed her, twisted her, morphed her perception, and turned her into a ruthless human being when she needed to be one.

"Fifteen minutes to the curfew. Please, proceed home in an orderly fashion. Remember, this is for your safety. Thank you for your compliance." A woman's voice echoed all around them.

"Yeah, we better get off the streets," Gally warned them, tugging at Marg's wrist. "I know it's hard, but act like you've seen it before.".

As Gally walked ahead, Margaret, Thomas, and Newt exchanged a quick look of disbelief. The red-head heaved a sigh, her fingers lacing with Newt's as the three proceeded to follow the fourth member of their small party.

They moved stealthily, running and taking cover to avoid being spotted by the many vehicles that circled the streets in search of those who broke the rules. Margaret was thankful for the strings attached to her overcoat, for it made it far simpler for her to run without fearing the hood would fall.

Upon reaching one side of the wall, Gally motioned for Marg to climb up first. Without even waiting for her twin's instructions, the red-head sprinted towards the steel wall, jumping a couple of feet away and landing – crutched down – onto the second steel platform without making as much as a sound. It wasn't as hard as many people might have thought it to be, for Margaret had often done the same while in her Maze, jumping from the ground onto high tree branches to have the upper hand against a Griever.

Climbing to one of the few unguarded spots on top of the wall, Gally motioned for the others to look forward. "There it is. If WICKED's got Minho, that's where they're keeping him." He pointed out, directing everyone' attention towards a glass and steel building lit up more than the others. "Lawrence has been trying to find a way in for years." He continued, placing a large observation device, called 'scope', that Margaret had never seen before.

Stepping beside Newt, Marg leaned over the guardrail, the sandy-haired boy's arm soon hugging her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"The place is crawling with soldiers. They've got surveillance everywhere. Scanners on every floor." With each word that left Gally's mouth, Margaret felt her body grow tenser. Almost as if he could read her mind, Newt's hand started drawing circles against the fabric of Marg's tight-fitting clothes, helping the red-head relax as only he could do.

"Got any more bad news, brother?" Margaret sighed, sarcasm lacing each word.

"Sounds like a bloody fortress," Newt noted.

"Yeah, I thought you said you had a way in," Thomas stated, supporting what the other two members of the Group had just said.

"I might," Gally admitted, yet his tone alone caused Marg to snap her head to the side, her calculating eyes studying her twin's face.

"You might? What the hell do you mean 'you might'?"

"Take a look." Gally took a step back, giving Thomas enough space to use the scope himself. "I said I had a way in –" Thomas' look alone caused Marg to tense, her arm quickly leaving Newt's back as she went to take a look herself. "I didn't say you were gonna like it."

Gally's words sounded almost muffled as Margaret's eye fell on their 'way in'. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." The girl seethed, eyes closed into slits.

Their way in was none other than Teresa, the girl Marg wanted punch senseless ever since she'd betrayed them all those months ago.

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guess who's back, back again

i hope this chapter isn't utter rubbish. my writing style has changed a lot! as soon as i finish this story, i'll edit it all. no more cringeworthy chapters. (also, a big thank you to my amazing friend CoraFedora who created the siblings gif at the beginning of the chapter!)

also also --- margaret && her intimidating nature are back! a whole lot of mewt moments and protective gally.

what do you think it's gonna happen? what do you want to see?

do leave comments, votes and all the shebang. they do help me with my motivation and actually make me happy because it means i am not writing this story for myself only. 

till next time!