Chapter Text
A Glader’s Christmas Carol
Stave One: The Safe Haven
First, and most importantly, you must understand that those who have died do, in fact, remain as dead as a doornail. By the nature of the world, that is how it has always worked and so it always will. It is also very important for the story you are about to read that you understand that ninety percent of the people Thomas has met in his life have had the misfortune of dying. With that knowledge, we begin our tale…
***
The Safe Haven was a small strip of land Southward down the remains of the Pacific Sea. Long ago, it may have been an ocean but time will do as time does, and nature will do as nature does. Things have changed. The Sun Flares, the disease. Well, you know that story…
Our story takes place in this so-called Safe Haven. Unfortunately, the Flare has not fully died out – though WCKD has been defeated and is no longer capturing children and teens alike. There are still newcomers finding refuge here in the Safe Haven with friends – but it’s not all good. After all, you can’t see when someone has been infected until it’s too late. There still hasn’t been a cure presented and with no one here to truly know how to manifest one, they only have the temporary serum. And even that is running out.
Still, life goes on as it can. The Haveners have built themselves a place where they can start over and begin a new life. Bustling around tending to gardens and building tents and huts down the shoreline. Sticking to a pretty stable schedule, meeting others and expanding interests and sharing knowledge. Children grow, teens blossom and young adults begin to thrive and create a life of their own. Yes, the Safe Haven has become a paradise of sorts. For some.
For one individual, it has become a wretched place, a prison – just like he was born into. Thomas has only ever known fear and entrapment. Stuck in a rattling box and thrown to a pack of wolves in a walled-in field. Sent through a maze like a rat only to find the world itself had become a prison. Sand and chaos, destruction and above all: death. Death of family, death of those who were once brothers and friends, even, perhaps, lovers.
WCKD was gone, but so were a lot of people. Important people. And for Thomas, he didn’t see the point in being happy anymore - in being content and okay with how the world was. As far as he was concerned, he had three things that were to be held above all else: a carved wooden doll, a necklace and, of course, The Cure itself.
Peter put all of his strength into his arms as he pressed the shovel into the dirt once more. The sound of metal against earth was almost a comfort by now: the repetition of it. It reminded him that he was here and not stuck somewhere back in the Scorch where he’d spent so many years before fighting for survival. Now, he only fought the Earth on days it decided to be tough.
He tossed the dirt behind him and leaned on his shovel, taking a breath. He used a dirty forearm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before he turned to look over his shoulder. Through the sliver of moonlight through the trees, he could see the expanse of the forest floor. And jutting from the floor every few feet were stones. Large stones with names carved in each one. Some were still fresh, but some had been there for months. Some even before he’d arrived in the Safe Haven. Some he had no memory of.
“Oi!”
He turned back to his counterpart, Ricky.
“Let’s get back to work, I don’t wanna be here all night.”
Peter looked down at the half-dug hole in the ground and took a deep breath. In with the shovel, out with the dirt. Repeat.
Ricky sniffed and exhaled a breath, nearly as drained as Peter was. “Lauren wants this done by morning. Doesn’t wanna look at Sam much longer. Can’t say I blame her,” he said through his heaving breaths as he continued to dig. “Could you imagine walking past a tent every day knowing your boyfriend is dead inside? And not even in his normal state.” In with the shovel, out with the dirt. “But all Cranked out?” Repeat. “Guess it’ll happen to the lot of them, though.” In with the shovel. “Once you hit that two-serum limit,” out with the dirt, “better start getting your goodbyes ready.” Repeat. “You know, I heard she was gonna ask for a third.”
Peter paused, shovel in the dirt, and looked up at Ricky.
“Yep,” Ricky nodded at him. “Went right to Thomas’ hut and everything. That’s how you know she was new here,” he shook his head. “Poor girl.”
“He didn’t give it to her?” Peter asked.
“Wouldn’t be digging if he had now, would we?” Ricky shrugged. “You think he’d give out extra serum? Ha! Boy’s as strict as they come. Do your part and all that, y’know?” He sniffed again and pushed his shovel into the dirt. “Anyway, I just hope that when his day comes long in the future, I’m not the one in charge of his grave. If it were up to me? I’d send his body in the Sea with this shovel chained to it.”
Peter blinked at him and swallowed. No, he supposed none of this was news to him. Still, it unnerved him to realize this was the Safe Haven they lived in.
In with the shovel.
Out with the dirt.
Repeat.
