CH. FIFTEEN
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Sun flares are burning the trees down. Animals run away from the fire, passing the lone, dirty girl.

She lost her backpack a while ago. Everything's gone. Her healing serums, her mother's locket, the dried flowers she collected with Camil... everything has been exploded until there was nothing left.

And she ran. Once the arms started touching her, she freed herself and left Camil behind. Left everyone who was left behind. Left the promise to save them behind.

"Gally?" Her hands shake around the walkie-talkie. She tries to ignore the hot feeling of the fire around her, but it's hard when it starts to hurt. "I'm sorry," she says. "They— we got bombed. You and Minho can't get here. I have no idea where I am, and—"

Then she realizes the device is dead. Nothing on the screen, no Gally, nothing.

❀

"Honey, don't add that. It's gonna expl—"

There here mixture goes, along with her decent outfit and hair, which were clean before. Joan coughs, waving steam off with her hand. Then, she groans loudly. "I almost had it! This fucking thing—"

"Language," her father warns. "Where are ya learnin' all those words from, kid?"

She shrugs. "My friend on the walkie."

He raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Be careful with who you talk with. Never know if they're who they say they are."

"But they are! They're at WCKD, trying to escape," Joan explains. "And I'm going to help them."

Her father sighs. "I'm sure you will."

❀

A fifteen-year-old stares back at her in the mirror. The brown hair is tied in a tight, low ponytail. Her cheekbones are slightly hollow, but she seems healthy enough after everything that has happened.

She makes her way to the Record Room, where a boy with curls just walks out of.

"Hey, Chuck. Already done watching?" She frowns.

"Thomas told me to leave," he says somberly.

"Oh. Why?"

The kid shrugs. "He said something was wrong. But it was just Newt entering the Maze, like he does every morning."

Slowly, she nods. "I'll check it out."

Chuck leaves while she opens the door to the record room, a big screen the first thing revealed. She doesn't have a long time to inspect what's happening, because arms wrap around her and something wet hits her neck.

"Thomas?" She murmurs. "What's wrong?"

❀

Her first week in this place had been awful. After all the torture with syringes, attempting to get answers out of her, they found out her knowledge of chemistry, and sent her to the lab. Day and night, she helped with the serums, but barely succeeded. This wasn't her level of working. She knew the plants and some chemicals. Not whatever science this was.

On the day that counts her being here for an exact week, a man enters her room. She doesn't bother looking at him and continues fidgeting with the ring on her finger. It's the one she shared with Camil. Where is he? Where are her parents? The other kids in their lab? The adults?

"Have a look at this," the man says, placing a tablet on her lap.

It's a recording of something, no... someone. The date says it has been a year ago. A year ago... when she ran off and left everyone behind. A year of living in the desert, until they caught her trying to steal food. Now she's here.

And that someone is Gally. He's tied to a chair, tears running down his face. He's already shaking, and it only gets worse when a door opens in the distance. Smoke clouds the room for a few seconds, then the giant starts moving closer.

A Griever.

❀

"You promised you'd get us safe!" There's nothing left of the boy that seemed so kind on the other side of the walkie. "And then you get selfish and run away, leaving us here for a year with no one to talk to! You wanna know what's been going on with Minho?"

She stares up at him, no words daring to leave her mouth. Her lips part slightly, but nothing comes out.

"He's been isolating himself the whole year!" He points a finger at her. "And it's your fault! He even refuses to go to the cleaning room to meet up with Thomas and Teresa!"

She shakes her head. Keeps shaking it and shaking it until it makes her dizzy. "It's not my fault they freed those things onto you—"

"If you would've kept your promise, it would've never happened!" The boy yells. His eyes start to get watery, and a tear runs down his cheek. "But no, you ran off, leaving everyone behind!"

"Everyone is dead anyways!" She yells. "My family, Camil—"

Gally steps closer. "No, he's not! But he's struggling because the stones paralyzed his legs. And who caused that? You!"

"It's not my fault they bombed—"

"Yes, it is!" A cry leaves his mouth. "If you would've shared your location with the right airwave, we'd be safe now!"

"I'm telling you, it glitched!" She shrieks. "It's not my fault!"

"It is!" He yells again. "And I'll never forgive you!"

❀

Blue flashes. A raven-haired girl above her, smiling lightly. "It's alright," she assures. "You'll be fine."

"Teresa?" A weak whisper. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry, Tom and I will come soon," she promises, not really answering the question. "We built it, so we know how to escape it, too. Just gotta convince them to let us go, before it's too late."

She tries to sit up, but her muscles won't work. "Too late? For what?"

"Just be very careful," she says. "It's all a punishment."

"But I thought—"

"—brain patterns, yeah. But not for you," the girl corrects. "So stay safe."

"Then why—"

"You'll find out. Hopefully it won't be too late."

❀

"Jeff, give her something. I can't stand those screams," Newt calls. He daps a few tears off Joan's cheeks with a tissue, doing his best to keep his assuring smile up.

"She already got multiple sedatives today. No more," he says. "Sorry."

Newt eventually nods. "I'll go grab some dinner then." He gets up, passing a few Builders as he does so. Their Keeper is there, too. "Gally, whinin' about a little splinter?"

He gives Newt a glare with narrowed eyes. "What's this what you have against me, man? I somewhat hammered my finger off."

"If you want me to not have anything against you, you can fix it by simply feeding her. Do that, be a little nicer, and—"

"Why do you care so much about my relationship with her?" He snaps. "Or care that much about her in general? Y'all barely talk."

"Let me do my thing, yeah?" Newt snaps back. "Prove you are a bloody caring human by just giving her some soup. Perhaps our friendship will return. Remember that? We once had it."

"Yes, I remember," Gally spats out. "Fine. I'll give her that shucking soup. If it makes you happy."

"Very," he confirms.

Protesting under his breath, Gally warms the soup up. He sits down on a chair next to Joan's bed and slips a spoonful between her parted lips.

"She's not swallowing," he hisses. "You know what? I'm not doing this—"

But the doors slams closed. When he tries opening it, it's obvious something is blocking it.

"Newt! You shucking piece of shit!" He slams his fists against the door. "You think this is gonna help?"

"I can't handle your nasty glances at each other all the time, or moods changing when the other is in presence! Fix things."

"How? In case you didn't know, she's unconscious—"

"Feed her," he says again. "I'm out."

Gally's left a little speechless and taken aback. Once he has recovered, he takes the soup, grunting, and starts emptying the spoons in her mouth.

She chokes on the fifth sip, and he flinches. Waits a few seconds, staring at her twitching face and the dark veins. He doesn't like it at all. The sight is already awful, let alone his memories on this.

"You shouldn't have gotten stung," he blurts out. "It was for nothing. The Greenie's dead now anyways. I even liked you as a Greenie better than him. At least you didn't mess anyone else up. Not here."

The closest thing to a reply is her sharp inhale.

He stares at her for a while, considering what to do. He hates her. Of course he hates her. But not that much that he doesn't feel bad.

Gally trails his eyes over her body. They halt at her tied up wrists, and notice her hand is trying to untie the ropes. "Oh, no. Can't do that, woman." Quickly, he takes her hand to stop it.

Then almost immediately, her gaze softens and she's no longer shaking as badly as before.

He clears his throat. "Oh, wow. We're holding hands now. That's... I don't know. Your hand is a tad too clammy for me to be comfortable with, though—"

But once she has her fingers clasp around his, he has a hard time pulling away.

"Joan, perhaps we shouldn't— perhaps you let go. It freaks me out. Especially because you're unconscious and I don't know why I'm talking to an unconscious person. Though when I went through the Changing, I could hear voices. Does this help?"

No decent reply again.

"Of course not." He inhales, shaking his head. "Well, if it makes Newt happier, fine. But I won't stay longer than ten minutes!"