Chapter Text
If I'm honest.
I don't know when it happened.
I don't know if it was during the attack in the mall or if it was during our search for the right arm.
Maybe it was after Minho was kidnapped , probably when we went through that tunnel; There are a thousand moments where it could have happened, but none of that matters because when I noticed it it was too late.
It was infected.
In retrospect I should have realized immediately, the signs may not have been clear or typical but I'm supposed to know my body, right? How the times when my arm hurt, like a burn, it was strange because I also seemed to be asleep even though I hadn't done anything to deserve it. Other times I would get a headache out of nowhere and suddenly my mind would go back and forth. As if out of nowhere I realized that hours had passed since I noticed it.
A couple of times I sweated too much, feeling boiling even when sleeping in just a tank top, but being in a post-apocalyptic desert world one tends to ignore that. I also remember the first time it affected my mood. Nothing out of this world had happened, I simply realized that he was angry, a lot; and it would be normal in the time we live in, but it was strange because it was with Thomas.
He was angry with Thomas.
Okay, yeah, the guy had n't been at his best and usually in good times he exasperates people, but since I met him in the Glade he was a nice guy with whom I made an instant connection and maybe he talks a lot but he's like a puppy excited with many questions. It's never bothered me when he asks, it's normal and it helps us both get through the day, so the day I got angry at him for asking stupid questions for half an hour was an indicator that something was wrong.
Then many other things happened: We took the wrong car and didn't get Minho back , Vince wanted to retire to heaven to settle the rescued people and Thomas was thinking about going. If it had been any other situation I would have accepted, Minho is strong and would last a couple of months while we plan how to get him out, but I didn't have a couple of months. Maybe just a week.
I had to do something.
Convincing Thomas and making him see reason was not difficult, especially when it was something that I also needed; to fight and hold on a little longer. The things I told him were sincere and he knew it. I always knew. The level of trust we shared was incredibly great, I have never doubted what he is capable of and when he is about to do it just look at him and the fire in his eyes threatens to burn you if you look at them too long.
Thomas is an incredible person, he is brave, fearless, he has a determination of steel and unwavering loyalty; He is also reckless and acts before thinking, but even if his stupidities make me lose my mind, I would follow him anywhere. I have followed him anywhere.
That's why I can't hurt him, not him, never him.
Hurting him because of Teresa was stupid, she knew perfectly well that the boy is not in love with her. Even before her betrayal, it was clear that the only reason she clung to him was because of their shared past, they were partners in cruelty, and from what I saw from Teresa, probably something else. As a separate experiment, a special indoctrination that I was looking for god knows what. Perhaps a successor, a subject, the perfect specimen that WICKED so desperately seeks.
So, yes, I know he's not in love with her, but seeing him hesitate made my blood boil. We were so close to having Minho , just as close as my time to zero. For me, it was the last chance to see him, to let him know that I appreciate him rescuing me that day, for the support that has continued since then. It was my last chance to let him know he's my family before I went crazy and I wasn't going to waste it.
Luckily it worked, Thomas agreed and Teresa was clearly cooperative. We rescued Minho just in time. There was no reason to keep fighting anymore, Minho and Thomas will be fine, they will reach the shelter and live their lives, maybe Thomas will finally see Brenda, maybe he will see someone else, I don't know but he will definitely find his way. Just like Minho , he will recover, get a partner and grow old. They will both have the future they deserve, but I don't belong there.
I know the spread got worse the moment we jumped out of that damn window, the rush of adrenaline and stress from being cornered along with the anticipation of surviving a 100-foot fall had elevated my brain activity, so, the flare had done its job.
During our entire journey through the streets, trying to avoid the bullets and cannons of WICKED or Lawrence, a thousand mental blanks were installed in my mind. I remember little of that, I remember Gally rescuing us and the big explosion that caused us to stop. I remember saying goodbye to Minho , who would bravely go to Brenda for a dose of her serum - not that it would work, of course - but after that not many things are clear in my mind, some I think are just hallucinations others are probably true, but honestly it's too idiotic to try to make sense of them.
What I do know is real is Thomas' presence, he is here, with me. Far beyond my wishes, the idiot decided to stay. – How much I wanted to kiss him, to confess what is in my heart, to talk about how much a simple look from him affects me – instead I offer him the sample of all my feelings, I remove the necklace from my neck and try to hand it over, he He refuses but he heard my cry of insistence. That makes him react, he takes it carefully, hesitant because of the probability of what it means (he's not wrong).
Once my heart has been delivered inside a capsule, Thomas holds my waist and drags me with him, I listen to his words of encouragement, imploring me to cooperate and promising that we will get out of this. That's his mantra, I understand, a repetitive prayer that seeks to convince us both of something lost. And for a moment I try to believe him, but my body decides to collapse.
I can't breathe, not anymore, each inhalation comes with the black liquid settling in my lungs. My throat full of mucus and my limbs more atrophied than ever. I can't go on, not anymore. But it's probably fine.
—Thomas ? Thomas I know you can hear me — a voice extends out of nowhere, I don't know where it comes from but I know who it is. Teresa — You have to come back, I know there is no reason for you to believe me, but you can save him — Come back? What the fuck are you talking about - There's a reason why Brenda is fine, because I don't use any more serum. It's because she doesn't need it, because she's cured. — My mind can't keep up with him, everything he says sounds like nonsense but he loves Tommy, he's looking for something from him and that forces me to pay attention. —You healed her, with your blood and you can also do it with others. — No… — You can save Newt, you still can, you just have to come back here, with me. - No no. It's a trap, he's lying, there's no cure. I have no salvation — Please Thomas, I know you will do the right thing. - I have to stop it.
With the little sanity I have I manage to get up, it's more a feeling than a reality but I have to trust myself to keep Tommy safe. That traitorous bitch just ran him all over the city and it's a matter of time before they come looking for him and tie him up like a pet to drain him.
My mind says I should stop it, so I try to listen to it, it sounds vague and strange but it's the only thing I can hold on to. I try to reach Tommy of my own free will, I see him standing in front of me with an expression of astonishment, probably because of Teresa's announcement, once in front of him I try to take him by the arms but he walks away and says something that I can't hear.
What does it say? Why did he walk away?
He plans to… Come back?
No no.
I try to reach it once more, but like my previous attempt I fail miserably. This fool surely plans to return, I can see him chattering - although I don't hear anything he says - surely explaining to me his thousand reasons why he trusts Teresa again; for which he is going to return.
I feel my throat strain, probably in an attempt to call his name and make him understand the reality of things. There is no cure, Teresa is lying, she just wants him for herself, because she has never given up on her stupid infatuation and because she is a selfish idiot who will trap him like a fairy tale witch in a prison where they will do who knows what. Why can't you understand?
I make one last effort to catch him, this time it works I manage to execute my weight on him and knock him down. Perfect, it will be difficult to move, even if you try. He struggles with me and that makes me angry, he never stays still.
But there is something that worries me, his face. It's not about fighting or resignation, it's about fear. Of whom? What happened? I try to focus my eyes on possible dangers, only to realize that it's me. Tommy is afraid of me .
— I'm sorry, Tommy — I say, a little more in my true conscience. I release my hands from his neck.
For God's sake, how did they get there?
What the fuck did I do?
— Don't worry — he says breathlessly. His voice thick from hanging — Did you hear Teresa? Come back with me. —
No.
I'm not going back, I can't go back.
— No — he snapped — If you want to go with her so I can dissect you later, be my guest." I know it's cruel, but this child is stubborn and I no longer have time to fight. — But I'm staying here —
—Newt…
—For what, Thomas? Why would I have to go? — It's my last negotiation, my last attempt — You know it's a lie, a trap. THERE IS NO CURE, you can't save me.
— I can try — he says. An empty statement.
I laugh at that, really, this is not a product of the flare, just my own hopelessness. My snort filled with sarcasm fills the place where we are, a peaceful area in the middle of a war zone. A small space of tranquility where the world ends, just Tommy and me.
—Okay, then do it—
There's a knife in my thigh sheath, I grab the handle and point it at the boy. Because with him there is only one way to communicate.
I see surprise take over his face for just enough seconds to realize that I won this.
I launch myself towards him, taking care to keep my body upright and hurt Thomas in non-critical points. The reason? Pure time, Minho or Brenda will arrive soon, I can take advantage of that time, then Tommy will become their problem. – The flame took over my body, it wants to attack and eat. I'm just trying to justify it —
Our little fight lasts a few minutes, in which time my blade has dug into a few spots on his legs and arms, enough cuts to slow him down. We are both full of blood, from both of us. Thomas because of me and me because of his attempts to avoid me. I know he wants to stop me, he has almost succeeded but I know him and even with my head on the other side I can see his movements in time to react accordingly.
—Kill me, Tommy! — my throat burns from screaming, dark bile bursting through my vocal cords. — Kill me before I become one of them — I know I sound as bad as I feel, but it's the only way.
— Newt, calm down — the brunette trembles, he's scared and tired but of course he doesn't give up. — We'll be there soon, Bren is already coming with your serum —
There is no time, I have to do it for him.
-No no. You do not get it? —
I'm frustrated, their hope was threatening to spread and I can't accept it. I can't have it.
I can't hold on to fanciful things, non-existent miracles offered in a god-forsaken world. No, I can't do that. So I let the flare bloom, if Thomas doesn't understand he will have to resign himself. I feel it burning my body, clouding my mind and I just pray to nothing that it doesn't hurt the most charming boy I've ever met.
—Do you want to know why I have this limp, Tommy? —I never wanted to bring this to light, not to him. It was my penance and demanding something from him that was not in his total control was outrageous. But it was the only way — Did I ever tell you? “No, I don't think I did,” the flare spits out.
At this point my fight with her ended. He took my body at will and takes what is at his disposal to perform his favorite hobby: hurting.
- What happened? —I hear Thomas ask, he's clearly buying time.
— I tried to commit suicide in the Labyrinth — he blurts out. — Climb halfway up one of those damn walls and jump. Minho found me and dragged me back to the Glade before the Gates closed. I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And that was — god no, please don't say it — your fault
The look I received after his words broke my conviction.
Fuck the flare, fuck WICKED, fuck the damn world. I'm not going to let Tommy see this, let that be the last thing he sees of me, if I'm going to die it will be as myself.
At some point, I grabbed the gun held on Thomas's thigh – who is underneath me – I don't know how I got there, but there's no time to repair it, because I thought I opened a key when I actually threw a reserve.
I won't take it anymore.
I pulled the gun toward myself, forcing it upward until the tip of the gun pressed against my own forehead.
—Now make peace! Kill me before I turn into one of those cannibalistic monsters! Kill me! I trusted you with the note! Nobody else. Now do it! —
Thomas is still hesitating, I can see it in his eyes, he still doesn't understand. He's not killing me, he's saving me and he just doesn't understand it. I try to help him and wrap his hand in mine, pull the trigger together, but he notices my movements before confirming them; He knocks the gun out of reach, I vaguely hear it traveling across the pavement.
Damn.
I no longer know who is acting, my feelings are at the same intensity as the flare.
He growled in frustration. This is dragging on, the others will arrive soon and then things will get ugly.
- Why can not you do it?! - I know the answer
—You know why—Thomas's voice is a low tone, almost primitive but covered in fear.
His voice is clipped, clearly dealing with his mind, being the rational one in the situation and if it weren't for him choosing the worst time to think, I would applaud him. Really, I'm proud of him, quite in love too and that's just the problem. For both.
However, the llama has other plans.
— Of course I know — he shouts. I can tell, his voice is more sarcastic than mine, more cruel and full of venom — Always trying to be the hero, to save us. To fix things, although you cause most of them yourself. —sentence. Thomas's gaze closes for a moment, that hurt him - Well now fix this. Kill me once or I'll kill you -
Not that, not Tommy.
Although it seems to make him react, his face clears and I see the same levels of concern and determination. I see how in two steps he reaches me and then manages to throw me to the ground, sitting astride my stomach, immobilizing me. He also takes my hands and extends them to each side of my face – which is very close to his – I try to force myself, I fight for my freedom but every time I fail. I'm scared and I don't want to feel that way anymore. Of course I don't want to leave him, I want to go with him and Minho to paradise, I want to be a family; but I can't, because I'm infected, losing my mind and although that serum will arrive I will always need more and that is not life, not for me, so yes, I love Thomas, but I love him too much to do that to him.
I stop struggling, shaking my body under his only to shake my head.
—I hate you — I love you — I hate you — I love you — I hate you so much — You don't know how much I love you.
—Newt—
His voice is nothing more than a whistle. Able to be heard only at the distance where we are.
I don't want to quit, but I have to. I regret many things, but most of them cannot be fixed. Everything is fine, they will be fine, he will be fine. I'm not afraid, I'm at peace, my next words don't hurt me.
—Please, Tommy. Please. - I beg. My tears fell long ago, I couldn't contain them anymore.
Thomas lets go of me, he finally understood. He doesn't get up but he straightens up, it seems like the gun fell nearby because he reaches for it with one arm and then he is in front of me again. His eyes are empty, they don't shine but I can still see the sadness. He's dying, all because of me.
He shouldn't bear that, it's not his fault, so I help him. Once again I take his hand, the one wrapped around the gun in mine, and guide him to my temple. I feel the cold metal and then I know it's all over. I look at him calmly, calmly trying to convey my total consent. A couple of tears mixed with blood fall on my face, they come from Thomas, I provoked them with this, in this stupid fight, but it's over, the counter has reached zero and it may be my last chance, I know I made it clear in the letter that hangs around your neck, but I want to tell you one last thing.
— Tommy... — I try, but there's no need, because he knows, he always does it.
With one last look on his part and a small smile on mine.
Thomas pulls the trigger.
≫ ──── ≪ •◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪
Coming to the other world feels strange. I thought it would be like waking up from a dream - if there was a place to do it - just opening your eyes and realizing that I was dead.
It was not so.
My head hurts, a lot, I wanted to complain but I remembered what happened. If I knew how painful it would have been, I would have chosen another place. Calmly and more slowly I fly to try to look where I am. It's white, too, which isn't that strange, I guess.
I analyze what's around me and then things get weird. You would think that the entrance to the other world would consist of an empty, glowing limbo, not four walls. You would also think it would be silent (a necessary one to think about what was happening) but I hear a constant beeping.
Beep beep beep
Over and over again, sounding closer, where the hell does that sound come from? I try to turn, look around for it and that's when I realize something else. I can not move.
My body is heavy, imprisoned; I'm not even standing. I think I might well start to be afraid.
I start to stir, I feel my heart pumping faster almost wanting to get out of my chest. My breathing is getting labored and the damn headache is getting intense. Shit, I feel like throwing up and I could pass out at any moment. I can't allow that, because I'm alive – I realize – and I don't know where I am, but if the sanitary conditions I'm in tell me anything, it's that Tommy is definitely not outside the door because not even the right arm can afford this.
Therefore there is only one option left.
WICKED