Chapter Text
The fire roared, just as it had back in the glade. It had only been a month since everyone's arrival in paradise. Minho immediately took up his leader role. His tattoo would be etched on his skin forever, nagging at him, telling him that this wasn’t who he really was – it was what WICKED made him become.
But here, it didn’t nag him. He thrived as someone who took charge. And it wasn’t just him. Everyone thrived here, with him as the leader. Everyone adapted well to living in such a beautiful place. Especially after the years of torture and trauma that they had been through.
The younger children, exhausted from a filling meal made by Frypan (with the help of more experienced cooks), had gone back to their homes in the forest, where everyone had decided to live. Building the homes was difficult, but with the amount of people and everyones’ determination, the final home was built today. That was why it was a reason to celebrate.
The gladers decided to throw a greenie party, even though the girls from group B insisted that they did parties way better. You were holding two cups of Gally’s drink making it over to Sonya and Harriet, grinning. “Just wait til you both try this. Group A staple.”
Sonya took it eagerly, but Harriet raised a brow at it. “How did you ever even agree to put that near your mouth?”
You pushed it towards her. “Come onnn, its’ good once you try it the first time.”
Sonya and Harriet clinked their drinks together before each taking a sip. Both girls let out loud coughs, making you laugh as you pat their backs. “What’s in that stuff?”
You shrugged. “Gally’s special drink,” you winked at them.
“Uh huh,” Harriet said, spitting again. “Real special. Just like him.”
“Well, it’s special enough for the guy behind you to make his way over.” Harriet spun around to see who you were talking about, and Sonya giggled next to her, excitedly. It was a cute guy that Sonya hadn’t been able to stop herself from staring at since everyone had settled down.
“I hope he takes his shirt off,” Sonya squealed.
You tapped her drink. “Just give him some more of this and he’ll start tackling you,” you winked, before letting them get up to their own games. As you walked through the chatting crowd of teenagers and adults, all sharing the same life experiences because of WICKED, you spotted new faces who had become friends and friends who you’d want to meet in every lifetime.
As you sat down next to him around a smaller fire which people had sat down around, going around and telling stories, Thomas gave you a side hug. The people sitting around were the gladers. Somehow, all of you had grouped together to talk here.
“What’re you guys talking about without me?” you asked, shooting a teasing look.
“Wondering how we would’ve survived with our dumb boy brains if they hadn’t placed you in that maze,” Dan said, before taking a sip of Gally’s drink. He swallowed loudly, letting out a satisfied sigh after doing so, and bumped Gally, who sat next to him. “Still tastes like shit!”
The gladers laughed, wholeheartedly. Even Gally.
“For real,” Billy answered, sitting on your other side. “We were talking about our memories.”
You raised your eyebrows. “I thought we had some silent pact about not talking about it.”
Clint shrugged. “You can hide what you want, say what you want. They’re your memories. We can’t take ‘em from you or force ‘em out.”
Your eyes caught Minho, who crossed his arms and frowned, as he leaned over. “They give yours back?” Through all the chaos of… well, everything, you only had the chance of settling down now. Besides asking Minho about Newt, no discussions or questions had really been asked. Everyone was too busy collecting food and building homes and organizing groups and giving jobs. It took a lot of teamwork to keep the maze running, for a group of boys who were considered to be ‘the cream of the crop.’ With so many young and less fit people, it was hard to get everything done quickly.
You nodded, slowly. “I was expecting to be overwhelmed by my three different lives but… well, did you guys learn your names?”
“You’re gonna freak when you hear Fry’s name,” Dan grinned, bumping Frypan’s shoulders.
Frypan shook his head, laughing. “I mean come on, WICKED stuck me with Siggy and my parents named me Toby? How many bad names can one guy have?” Everyone snickered. You didn’t have any expectations of names, but Toby? That was the last name that could suit Frypan.
“What was yours?” Billy asked.
You shrugged. “I don’t think I had one.” The boys all spoke at once, denying your claims. You held up your hands. “Hey, hey, let me speak! Okay, so my parents were members of the right arm – they just called me girl, and refused to give me a name til they were sure I wasn’t immune – obviously, I was, and they kinda just handed me over.”
The boys paused after you finished. “You had shuck parents!” You were sure Minho started the outburst, because soon all the boys had joined in on hating on your real parents, who’d clearly never loved you very much,
You shrugged. “I don’t care, really. It makes me glad that I ended up here with you guys.”
“Aww, isn’t that cute,” Frypan teased.
“At least Girl is a better name than Toby,” Gally said, smirking before he drank. The boys all broke into laughter again. As some praised Gally, you looked around at everyone. Thomas, Minho, Clint, Gally, Hank, Frypan, Dave, Billy and you. That was all that was left, to carry on the memory of your time in the glade.
The boys chatted some more, breaking into some other conversation. You drowned out their words, getting the sudden conviction to finally do something. You got up, telling the boys you’d be back. They watched you curiously as you ran into the forest, probably to get something from the new Homestead, which had become a storage place.
When you had come running back, a few minutes later, it was with a chisel and hammer. And you were running towards the beach. The boys all got up from the fire, jogging over to follow you. You took the time to slip your shoes and socks off before running into the cool sand, barefoot.
Minho had stopped before he reached the sand, crossing his arms and looking out at you, watching curiously.
You placed the chisel carefully before you began hammering. As you did so, Minho got an idea of what you were doing and took off his own socks and shoes, before walking over to you. He looked over your shoulder to see what your were carving. The letter N.
“Who’s that gonna be?” Minho asked.
“Nick,” you answered. “I’ll leave Newt for you.”
Minho took in a deep breath before saying anything. “He’s not dead.”
“We don’t have to carve dead peoples’ names,” you said, looking over at all the boys, who had taken off their shoes and socks, surrounding the rock you had started to engrave. “It’s the names of the people we took with us to this place. They may not be here physically… but they’re in our hearts. And I know they’re proud to see us here.”
The wind blew gently. A stark contrast to the scorch.
Thomas asked about Nick. You all answered, able to do so with no feeling of guilt. You told him all the good things. How glader slang had started. How it was like to be the first people in the maze, how excited everyone was about a girl coming up. He always had so many questions, and now you finally had the time to answer it all.
“I get why your tattoo said temptation,” Hank huffed. “You put a girl in an enclosed space with twenty teenaged boys, it’s asking for trouble.”
“Well, I’m sure to their disdain, there wasn’t any,” you sighed, wiping off some sweat as you worked on the last letter of Nick’s name. “You think Brenda knows more about how things work?” You asked, looking over at Thomas.
Thomas shrugged. “I have to ask.” He looked back at the campfires raging, with the crowds of people laughing and chatting. Brenda was probably somewhere there, with Jorge. She still hadn’t really spoken with you, despite everything.
“So, new girl?” Minho asked, raising a brow at him.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “We’ve… we didn’t really talk about it.”
“Well, you’ve got time now,” Clint chuckled. “You know, cause the world isn’t falling apart around us. Literally.”
Probably not the best words. You and Minho shared a look when you saw Thomas force out a chuckle. He must’ve remembered Teresa.
You finished up the K, and let out a loud groan, before turning to the boys. “Who wants next?”
Minho took his turn next, carving out Alby’s name. Gally had offered to get some more tools so everyone could start carving on some other rocks. While he was gone, some people at the fires came over in curiosity, and wanted to join in on carving names.
You had added Winston’s name. Clint added Jeff. Billy added Ben. Jackson added Ethan. Names and names and names, many you knew, more than you didn’t from the girls and the other immunes.
You and Thomas watched as Minho carved in Newt’s name, silently. You heard some sniffles from Thomas, and you rubbed his back. He wiped at his eyes, aggressive.
You leaned in to whisper to him, so Minho wouldn’t hear. “Thomas?” He shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Do you know something he doesn’t?”
Thomas shook his head again. “I’m not telling him. Of all people, I’m not telling him.”
“Okay,” you muttered. “Did you…?”
He nodded, pressing his eyes firmer.
“Thank you. I’m sure that’s what he wanted.”
“He begged me.”
“You did a great thing… we can truly bring him here with us, because of you.”
Thomas moved his hands as he looked o at you. “Please don’t tell him.”
You nodded. You hadn’t spoke about Newt with Minho since the first day. You knew he’d had a few nightmares but he didn’t speak to you about it. “I know. I won’t.”
He muttered a thank you. You put your arm around his shoulder and held him closely, as you watched Minho finish up Newt’s name and dust his hands off. Minho kept his back to the both of you, taking in the fact that Newt, his best friend since the day he’d woken up in that glade, was… gone.