They ran back to Lawrence's place so hard that they're out of breath by the time they arrive. And the panic in every single one of them doesn't make it any better— they're somewhat hyperventilating when they lie her down on the wooden table.

"How do we fix this?"

"We won't be able to do much about the blood loss," Vince says. "But clean those wounds up."

Her wrists are bruised. Blood is leaking from a wound on her head. There's a cut in her lip. Blood is streaming out of little holes in her arms, too. The Cranks clearly didn't care or bother to watch out if they even took the girl's blood out of a vein and if they were doing it carefully.

"What the hell did they do?" Crying out, Brenda cups the side of Joan's face, then runs a warm towel over it.

"That... she'll have to explain once she wakes up," Vince sighs. "But these bruises and wounds are clearly from punches. And this here, on her side and leg? That was a knife. And as you see, lots of needles."

"She'll survive, right?"

Slowly, he nods. "She's strong. And smart. I saved the recipe of a healing serum she made when she was ten. Got it right here." With a small grin, Vince holds a jar up.

***

"Then Gally shot them all, which was insane, and then we took Joan, and left," Frypan finishes.

They receive a few shocked faces.

Gally grits his teeth together. "I don't even know why I'm helping you at this point, Thomas. You barely seem to care. And so do you, Newt. Only caring when it's too late."

"Not everyone gets along—"

"What would Minho have done, hm? What would Camil think of the way you're treating her?"

At that, they fall silent, and it says enough.

"That whole misleading thing was ages ago. She did that because she thought it was right. And partly, she was. If it weren't for the Doors not closing, it was saver in the Glade than anywhere else."

"It's not like you like Teresa."

"Because she betrayed us, or well, you to WCKD. Joan literally wrote you a letter, telling you to escape! She saved me. What did she do that makes you hate her so much? Hm?"

"I get that it's wrong to hide the exit of the Maze for a year long," Fry adds, "but come on guys, she's our friend."

"And family," Vince adds.

"Yeah. We know by now that you're her father, Vince. No need—"

"And you're her cousin."

Thomas stares at him as if he just saw a ghost, blinking. "What?"

"Your mother is her mother's sister."

"I don't— what?"

Vince sighs. "Cousin. Your father is her uncle! I'm your uncle. Same genes."

"Yeah, I know what a cousin is, but—"

"Awesome, then," Vince interrupts. "So forgive her. Go ahead."

***

The first thing she's reminded of when she wakes up, is the time she wake up from the Changing.

Back then, she had been tied up in the dark. Now she's in a warm room. Not tied up and not in the dark. Just a comfortable, dim light.

"Joan!" A surprised gasp on her side. "Oh, god— finally."

She flinches, which makes whoever is beside her take their arm off hers.

After a few seconds, she turns her head to the side. With a hoarse voice, "Gally?"

"Yeah." He smiles softly. "I'm right here." 

Once the memories of what exactly happened start coming back, she panics. So many needles. Pokes. Hands. Blood. Laughs.

She shakes her head a few times as she moves up, even with the awful ache in her body. A deep breath as she looks around.

The kitchen to her left. The giant living room where she knows they're planning to put Teresa after abducting her. Below her, a table with a soft blanket.

Her breaths calm. She's safe. Gally's right beside her— she wraps her arms around him, face burying in his shoulder.

They stay like that for a while. He rubs her back as she tries not to cry as she's reminded of what happened.

After a while, Vince walks in, and she hugs him, too. His goatee tickles her cheek, which makes her let out the smallest laugh.

"I'm so glad you're safe." He takes a step back. "Do you want to take a shower? Immediately explain what happened? Rest?"

She looks down. "Uh. Might as well get over the explaining part now."

Taking her hand, Gally leads her to the couch. She pulls her legs up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. They seemed to have changed her into gray sweatpants and a casual shirt. Not the ripped apart clothes she wore before.

"Alright." A sharp inhale. "So you saw everything there? All the blood?"

They nod, so she continues.

"After that, Res hit me. Res is— was who I thought I could trust. One of the firsts I met and one of the few I really liked. But since I didn't permanently cure her, she went crazy again. A few more punches here and there. She spoke about how they had the right to kill me after taking my blood."

A frown forms on Vince's face. "How would they have the right to do that? You saved them."

"I promised I'd keep them temporarily cured and wouldn't kill them as long as they didn't betray me and worked for me. Except, when y'all took me, I could no longer cure them. So they figured they had the right to take my blood... and, well, kill me."

"So if we would've never kidnapped you, this would've never happened?"

"Basically," she murmurs. Another sharp breath. "Anyways. Not the point. After those punches, I tried to flee. I ran up the stairs, but someone grabbed my leg. I fell on my head, I think, and then got dragged down the stairs. I'm not sure if I remember it well.

"Then they took me to the basement. They'd taken my needles. All of them." A shiver runs down a her spine. "I don't want to repeat the things they said as they took me to that operation table. It was the one I always used to take my own blood, or treated the injuries some of them had in the past.

"They all had needles. All of them." A muffled cry escapes her mouth at the memory. "And I tried to explain what had happened— that it wasn't my fault I couldn't be there for them. That I would cure them, but they said they'd do it by themselves. I asked why they hadn't used the blood I had collected in the bags. They said I deserved what they were about to do."

She buries her head in her hands for a second, sniffing and trying not to cry before she, again, continues.

"They cut my shirt open. Not carefully. They just cut, and I remember screaming because they'd hit my skin, too. The same thing with my legs. They cut certain parts in my pants so their needles wouldn't have to pierce through my clothes." A pause. "And then they started taking my blood. They didn't know how to reach veins. So sometimes, when they didn't hit a vein, they'd get angry because the blood wouldn't get in the syringe, and then they're keep on poking to find blood. And if it— and if that didn't work, they'd somewhat stab. And it hurt so much, because it was everywhere— and they turned me around, and they did it another time, and another time, until the pain got numb. But— but I passed out a few times, so I can't tell everything that happened. I wasn't... there the whole time."

She leans against Gally, shaking. Never in her life will she touch needles again. She doesn't want to seem them ever again.

He embraces her without a word, and stays like that, without a word. Without a word, she stays in his arms, for who knows how long.