#oc's thomas sister tmr

[justinewt]

Confusing Times - TMR REWRITE Chapter Six

[THE MAZE RUNNER MASTERLIST]

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Summary: After they were miraculously rescued from the maze, they were brought to a new place where they were dangled with the hope of a better future in a safe heaven far away, but things didn’t take look to take a turn the teenagers had not seen coming...

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: TMR Scorch trials spoilers, Janson AKA rat face (watch out it can be quite traumatic to even see his name lmao), broken nose, needels, blood drawn 

Eyes closed, Grace rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. The helicopter ride was so long that most of them fell asleep at some point. She and Thomas were awakened from their sleep by the voice of Minho. Leaning towards them the young man shouted their names, urging to get off the helicopter for some reason. They awoke with a start and glanced at each other in confusion before being pulled out off the flying vehicle which was hovering over a platform put on the sand. They wer helped out by a man as they lost their balance upon jumping off the edge. None of them had any idea of what was going on and what was all the haste about but they didn’t ask questions and Thomas just never let go of his sister’s arm, squeezing her limb as if he was scared they would be taken away from each other again. Grace looked around them. The night sky was lighting up as the sun rose, chasing the inky black of the night out of the sky and replacing it with a bluish tint. As they were brought to a few soldiers waiting for them, Thomas suddenly backtracked to the helicopter. He let go off her very briefly and was dragged back to them, holding the little figuring Chuck had given him earlier.

“Cranks! We got Cranks!” The man that helped them off the helicopter started to yell, warning the others around him. Grace saw figures move on a dune towering them, their bodies contrasting with the blue of the sky and along with them, an abominable screeching sound reached their ears. Thomas immidietaly got a hold of his sister, just to make sure she was there as they got led away. Thomas held Grace’s hand tight while a man grabbed his arm and ran along with them toward a huge building ahead of them. Grace had to blink and narrow her eyes a lot because of the bliding lights shining around the place. More men were running out of there, firing at what they called Cranks. Grace’s fear was certainly not helped by the shrill noises of these monsters, and she just never loosened her grip of Thomas’ hand until they found themselves behind the doors of the structure. Thomas and her just stared at the doors as they were closing. They could hear the gunfire continue outside until they were definitely locked in, just like back in the Maze, when all the doors would lock themselves, trapping them in the Glade. And even this time, the doors closed to keep out monsters.

Grace slowly let go of her brother’s hand as he walked across their friedns, gathered nearby, and took a look at the place. It was as huge as the exterior led them to believe. Breathing heavily Grace and the others followed his gaze, with mixed feelings. They felt relief, but also some confusion and apprehension regarding where they were now. Grace wondered if they really were in a safe place.

When a guard came open the door of the room they had been put in in the meanwhile, they all straightened up and almost jumped on their feet, walking towards the corridor but they were met by a man at the door.

“You kids doing all right? Sorry about all the fuss. We had ourselves in a bit of a swarm.”

“Who are you?” Thomas voiced the burning question every single one of them had in mind upon looking at this strange man standing in front of them.

“I’m the reason you’re all still alive. It’s my intention to keep you that way. Now, come with me. We’ll get you kids squared away.” They took a few seconds before moving, Thomas and Grace exchanging a concerned and doubtful look. She didn’t like much this man already and her brother knew it. They eventually followed him through the precinct of this whole facility, letting him do the conversation on his own. “You can call me Mr. Janson. I run this place. For us it’s a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes. Watch yourselves.” He indicated the workers busying themselves around the place, gushing sparks her and there.

“That mean you’re taking us home?” Thomas wondered. He, Grace, Minho and Newt walked right behind Janson. The latter looked at the boy as he marched.

“A home of sorts.” His answer was pretty vague, not really helping their collective confusion. “Sadly, there wouldn’t be much left of wherever you came from. But we do have a place for you. A refuge, outside the Scorch, where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?”

“Nice.” Grace flashed Jansen a relieved and bright smile but the second he turned his head to look ahead, she pursed her lips and frowned, glancing around them as they walked. “This guy feels shady.” She mumbled and Minho, Newt and Thomas looked at her.

“Why are you helping us?” Minho rose his voice and asked the man.

“Let’s just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We’re all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity’s continued survival.” He explained as they approached a door of the hangar he had just walked them through. “Unfortunately, it also makes you a target. As no doubt by now you’ve noticed. Beyond this door lied the beginning of your new lives.” He passed a card to an access panel and a LED turned green on the side and the door rose before them, to a long hallway lit with dozens of artificial lights hanging from the ceilings. “First things first, let’s do something about that smell.”

After they all had taken a long and warm shower, they were brought to another room filled with people in white blouses busying themselves everywhere, carrying vials here and there, observing things under the microscope. Grace didn’t like that place very much. Too much white. Too many lights. It really reminded her of when she was with WICKED, and she wasn’t a fan of the uncomfortable feeling it brought her. She watched the scientist next to her prepare to take care of her broken nose. He brought a syringe up to the light and flicked the syringe and a drop of the liquid inside beaded at the tip of the needle. He turned to her on his chair.

“Hold up your head.”

“What is it?”

“An injection to help with the discomfort you might feel during the procedure.” He calmly told her, and she stayed silent, tilting her head back. She stared at the ceiling while he injected whatever this was in the area of her nose and went, he put something inside to open the nostrils, she barely felt it. She didn’t know where to put her eyes while he was using instruments, doing whatever to help realign the broken bone of her nose. He didn’t ask how she got it, and he surely didn’t care. He wasn’t really trying to make conversation anyway, so she took this time to think of where they had gotten themselves into. Something wasn’t right and she knew her brother was smart enough to see it too. The thing that made her question all this was when Jansen told them that where they would bring them, WICKED could never find them again, but they could. They found them so she couldn’t quite pinpoint how a big organization like WICKED couldn’t do the same, and why this guy was so confident about it. He was being weird from the start, and she noticed it. “All right.” she straightened her head when she heard the man’s voice, understanding it was done and she went to softly touch around her nose and there was something that felt kind of padded. “It’s a nasal splint. Leave it on for a couple weeks.”

“Okay.” She mouthed and silently watched him bring over a bunch of empty vials and put them aside. She stayed quiet while he filled them with some of her blood. She observed the syringe fill with blood and empty each time until a tall man came up to them and she was confused when she saw her brother standing next to him.

“Grace. I need you to come with us, please.” He didn’t sound threatening or like he was giving her an order. She cautiously stood up and walked by Thomas’ side as they followed the man to a smaller room with bare concrete walls, a single table in the center of the room and a few chairs around it. Thomas and Grace sat next to each other on one side, facing the door, waiting for it to open again.

“How are you feeling?” Thomas inquired.

“Okay, given the circumstances. You?” When she asked in return, she followed his gaze to her left and the moment she saw the camera up on the wall, the door opened, and Jansen walked in with this smile that made Grace instantly uncomfortable.

“Thomas, Grace, thank you for seeing me.” Thomas straightened up, slipping his arms from the table onto his laps, following Jansen with his eyes as he approached. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I was just hoping we might get a moment to chat in private, away from the others.” He turned around to get the chair closer and Grace and Thomas glanced at each other while the man wasn’t looking. He then sat across from them. “Well… I won’t take up too much of your time. I really only have one question. What do you two remember about WICKED?” He attempted to reassure the teenagers as they remained silent and cautious at his question, and he could especially read this chariness on Thomas’ face. The latter stared at him, narrowing his eyes slightly, tilting his head. “You’re not in trouble. We’re just having a conversation. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Understand what?” Thomas wondered.

“Whose side are you on?” The teenage boy straightened his head, thinking, searching his memory. Grace remained quiet, watching her brother speak.

“I remember we used to work for WICKED.” He looked Jansen in the eyes. “I remember that they took Grace away and sent me into the maze. I remember watching my friends die in front of me. I’m on their side. We…” He shot a glance at Grace who stared at her hands under the table. “we’re on their side.”

“Interesting.” Jansen declared with a plain voice. “You say you worked for WICKED, but they sent you both into the maze. Why would they do something like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should’ve asked them before you killed them all.” Thomas retorted.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” The man peeked around, pursuing his lips in a tight smile before standing up. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“That’s it?” Grace lifted her head as her brother asked, a little surprise by how quick the discussion was.

“Yeah, you’ve told me everything I need to know. You and your friends have all been cleared to join the others.” He walked to the door. “Soon you’ll all be moving on to greener pastures.”

“Wait.” Thomas stopped him as he opened the door. “Others?”

As they were walked down a corridor, the siblings remained silent as they heard indistinct chatter coming from afar, not knowing what to expect after Jansen told the two there was more of them, more teenagers they had rescued. They stepped through a door frame into a sort of refectory, with lots of people their age sitting around tables installed here and there in the room, talking as they drank and eat like all was well and there was not crankers that attacked the compound last night, or that they were in a world that got burned down at that. It seemed off to Grace. Her and Thomas observed their surroundings, a bit unsettled and confused until they were brought back down to earth by Minho’s voice calling out to them.

“Hey, guys!” The young man walked up to them.

“Hey, Minho, what’s going on?” Thomas questioned.

“We weren’t the only maze. Come on.” He motioned for them to come along, and Thomas and Grace followed him to a table where they joined up with the others. They approached and Newt, who was his back to them looked behind and he and Grace shot a smile at each other, and she sat next to him while a guy whose name she didn’t know, was telling a story of his group’s escape, or something like that.

“And there was this big, loud explosion, and these guys came out of nowhere.” Thomas settled in between Minho and Newt while the other guy talked. “Started shooting up the place. “

“It was intense.” Another boy seated next to him nodded, taking a sip of his water cup.

“They pulled us out of the maze and brought us here.” He continued.

“What about the rest?” Newt asked him. “The other people left behind in the maze, what happened to them?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I guess WICKED still has them.”

“How long you guys been here?”

“Not long. Just a day or two.” He told the blond before looking in the back of the room. “Tha kid over there has been here the longest. Almost a week.”

“His maze was nothing but girls.” The other boy added.

“Really?” Minho wondered.

“Some guys have all the luck.” This comment made Grace shot up her eyebrows and let out a sharp chuckle, not really humored by that. She rested her elbows on the edge of the table and brought her hand to her face, touching lightly the splint keeping her nose in place while it was healing. Funny how just a fall led her to having to get a nose splint, but she was lucky because it could have been worse. The dressing the Medjack gave her while at the maze helped and now it would just take a couple weeks to be like new again.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Ladies.” Grace put her hand on the table and looked around when Janson’s voice rose in the room. She still didn’t really like him. Something wasn’t quite right about him, but she couldn’t pinpoint what. He arrived in the room with a black notebook under his arm, followed by a couple men from the facility they were all in and everybody turned to him. “You all know how this works. I you hear your name called, please rise in an orderly fashion, join my colleagues behind me where they will escort you to the eastern wing. Your new lives are about to begin.” There were scattered applause across the room. Newt, Minho, Thomas, Siggy, Winston and Grace didn’t move a finger. Jansen pulled up the hard cover of his notebook and read a first name. “Connor.” The latter shared a highfive with a friend as he got up. “Evelyn. Justin. Peter. Allison. Squiggy.” People laughed at the name. “All right. Settle down. Franklin. And Abigail. Now, now, don’t get discouraged. If I could take more, I would. There’s always tomorrow. Your time will come. Go on, eat up.”

“Where are they going?” Minquo inquired.

“Far from here.” The guy said, turning back to them. “Lucky bastards.”

“Some kind of farm. A safe place.” His friend added. “They can only take in a couple of people at a time.”

“What the hell?” Grace glanced over at her brother when she heard him swear under his breath and she looked at where he was looking and saw Teresa being escorted by a bunch of medical staff in a hallway next to the refectory, with windows along the wall. He stood up and they watched him quicken his pace, trying to catch up with her, calling her but she only heard him when she disappeared at a corner, and he was stopped at the door by the security. He surprisingly let go, instead of making a fuss about it.

“Ooh, I got top bunk.” Minho jumped on top of the bed when Siggy was about to climb up the ladder. The rest of them entered after the two boys, looking around with curiosity, settling in their chosen bed. Grace rushed to the bunk beds in the very back and imitated Minho, jumping on the top bunk bed and smiling, amused, as she watched Newt and Thomas, standing in the middle of the room.

“I could get used to this.” Winston declared, lying on his bed, hands joined above his chest.

“Yeah. It’s not bad.” Newt agreed when the door was slammed shut abruptly and it made him, and Thomas turn around. Grace watched Thomas and the blonde talk and followed the latter with her eyes as he climbed on the top bunk bed right across from hers.

“Hello, neighbor.” She joked before letting herself fall on the mattress, her feet still hanging over the edge and she exhaled, staring at the ceiling. Swallowing harshly, she eventually straightened up to get rid of her shoes and she lied in her bed, alone with her thoughts until the lights were out in the dormitory. She didn’t realize she was falling asleep. She didn’t even had realized she was this exhausted until she awoke in the middle of the night, or so she figured because the lights had been turned off in the room and she rubbed her eyes with a soft groan and turned in her bed and she noticed she was under the blanket and she thought in silence for a second, not remembering having tucked herself in before falling asleep. She sat up with a yawn and noticed Thomas move in the bed under Newt’s.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked in a whisper. He shook his head as a response and sighed. “Who tucked me in?”

“Newt. You fell asleep right after you lied down, and he saw you from the top bunk.” He told her and she nodded. Thomas leaned on his elbow when he heard some rattle under his bed and he and Grace looked at each other and frowned upon hearing someone shushing underneath. Grace watched Thomas get on his stomach and look down.

“Thomas, what is it?” She asked and he lifted his head as he got on the floor and motioned for her to come with him. Without further questions, she quietly got down from her bed and followed Thomas as they crawled through the vents. She had absolutely no idea why they were doing this and who even led Thomas to come there but she got her answer when they came to a turn and she saw this boy, the one that was on his own earlier that day in the refectory.

“Hurry, this way.” He said in a normal tone of voice. He said nothing of Grace being there too and just kept crawling. Thomas very lightly shook his head in disbelief and the two siblings followed their peer.

“Hey, wait a second.” Thomas finally called out to him. “What the hell are we doing?”

“Come on, we’re gonna miss it.” He simply retorted.

“What?” Grace breathed out, frowning and Thomas just shrugged, having no idea either of what he was referring to.

“What are we doing?” Thomas whispered when he caught up with the boy in a bigger vent while he was kneeling next to an opening overlooking the corridor above which they were. He brought his index finger to his lips, urging them to keep quiet and motioned for them to come closer. They approached, still confused.

“Watch.” He said, looking down through the opening of the grid. A doctor came to a door, her heels clicking on the floor in rhythm until she stopped and pulled a card out of the front pocket of her white blouse and waited, looking behind her. She started walking again when a covered stretcher and a couple other people in blouses came along. A sort of screen displaying a few charts and the image of a human body was above the stretcher. They went to a door nearby, and the doctor passed her card to the side and stood aside to let the stretcher and the other doctors enter. A second one followed and then the doors to the room closed and Grace frowned at what she and Thomas were seeing.

“What the hell was that?” Thomas wondered.

“They bring in new ones every night like clockwork.”

“You know what they do with them?”

“I don’t know. This is as far as I’ve ever gotten. The vents don’t even go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don’t come back out.” He paused for a second. “I don’t think anybody ever really leaves this place.” After a second of silence, he spoke up again. “Come on. We’ve gotta go before somebody notices we’re gone.”

“Why did you show us this?” Thomas asked, still looking down through the opening. The boy looked back at the two.

“Because maybe others will listen to you. There’s something weird going on here. And I know you think so too.” On these words, he crawled away and Thomas addressed him again, in a low voice, before the latter left the two siblings alone.

“Hey, wait. What’s your name?”

“Aris.” Thomas and Grace watched him crawl through the vent and they glanced at each other before looking back down, in a religious silence.

“Alice.” Notebook in hands, Janson read the names of those who would go to a safe place, as they were told, but neither Thomas nor Grace really bought that. “Barry. Walt. Edgar. Samantha.”

“I wanna know what’s through that door.” Thomas mumbled, staring at the grey-haired man. Everyone around their table turned their head to him and Newt still tried to knock some sense into him, while Janson kept reading the list of names outloud.

“Now, we’ve been over this. You said they were covered up, so you don’t know what you saw. It could’ve been anything under there.”

“I know exactly what I saw. Grace saw them too. They were bodies.” He affirmed, whispering to his friends. “Aris said they bring in a new batch every night.”

“Who the hell is Aris?” Minho asked.

“Him.” Grace pointed at the lone boy in the other side of the refectory, eating by himself, her arms crossed, resting on the edge of the table.

“And last but not least, Grace. Thank you for your attention.” The second she heard her name, the next sentence the man said and everyone applauding seemed like a bunch of muffled sounds to her ears. The girl felt a knot form in her stomach and her heart sank into her boots as her gaze froze in place for a couple of seconds before slowly finding its way to Janson’s face. He was looking at her, he knew she’d heard him call her name, but she couldn’t move from her seat. The boys around the table had gone radio silence from shock to hear that their friend was to go and Thomas straightened up suddenly upon hearing her sister’s name, frowning and looking around them as if there was going to be another girl that would stand up and he would have the relief to see that her sister wasn’t going to go through whatever they did to all those teenagers beyond that door he was forbidden to cross. “Come on.”

Janson insisted and Thomas put his hand on his sister’s wrist, as though it would make any difference and it would keep her from having to go but when she saw this shady man, motion for a guard to go get her, she stood up, reluctantly, nonetheless. As she looked into the void, she glanced briefly at her brother who wasn’t happy about this was watching her follow a guard, heading for the door and most likely, where they had taken Teresa the day before and refused to let him through for some reason. Now it was happening to her sister, and he couldn’t let them do anything to her. The guard brought Grace to a line with the other teenagers. She was the last one in queue. The guard passed his card and the doors opened and the teenagers started to walk through the door when she heard someone smash their hands hard on a table with the sound of cutlery jumping at the impact and she saw her brother approach with a determined step and she bit the inside of her cheek, wondering what was going to even happen but she didn’t have the time to see him get any more close to her because the guard grabbed her by the arm and forced her through the door. She struggled a bit, trying to not let him force her any further into the corridor and she looked at Thomas get stopped by two other guards standing there.

“Thomas.” Grace called out to him. The guard pulled her arm even more, but she stood her ground, not without difficulty and the sole of her shoes slipping on the floor to keep the man from taking her away didn’t help make it any easier. Thomas was going back and forth with the two men, and she stopped moving when he shot her a knowing look and pretended to go back to his seat without causing any more trouble. She knew he wasn’t going to just leave her here but as she let her guard down, she felt the guard lead her away and she tried to walk as slowly as possible. Thomas suddenly charged at the men and started yelling, which caused the other boys joining him and Jansen reappearing from the hallway Grace was being taken to. He crossed her gaze but didn’t really care about the fear and confusion he saw in her sweet brown eyes. “Thomas! No.”

“Leave my sister! And let me fucking see my friend! Why won’t you let mee see her?” He looked in between the two men, trying to force his way through, not taking his eyes off of Grace until Janson arrived right in front of him. “Grace!”

[To be continued…]  

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Published (07/11/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[theunseenpoet]

Lovers Lies | Thomas TMR

Pairing: Thomas x fem OC

Word Count: 2k

Sandra fc = octavia blake from the 100

Carlos fc = bellamy blake from the 100

--

DARK brown hair braided back in two French braids with purple bows made of ribbon tying them off was always in Sandra's hair. Every day since the moment she was sent up in the box to The Glade. 

But other than the purple bows, everything else covering her body was black.

Black long-sleeved shirt. Black cargo pants. Black combat boots. A black jacket even.

Black was, no doubt, her favorite shade...with a dash of purple to make her look less depressed—well, that's what the others had said. Even with the purple, she still felt depressed.

Who could even blame her? Any lone girl trapped in a prison surrounded by only boys would feel depressed. It's no fun and it's barely easy living. If it wasn't for her closest friends who always felt the need to protect her, then she was sure life would've been worse by now. Maybe she would've climbed the highest wall too. But she hadn't. Yet.

Sandra could protect herself when needed, but one rare time she hadn't been able to. That one time turned dark and ended with Nick banishing a few boys for their actions against her. Not only did boys get banished for what they'd done to her, but her closest friends were left drowning in guilt for not being able to help her at a time when she couldn't defend herself.

Those memories haunted the Gladers who loved and cared for her as their own sister.

"How those cookies comin'?" Frypan asked, looking over Sandra's shoulder as she used her washed hands to roll the chocolate chip cookie dough into little balls.

"Just a few more minutes and I'll put them in the oven for after dinner," she hummed with a small smile sent to him.

After three years, she had mastered the fake smile and light in her eyes. And yet, it seemed that Carlos always knew when she was lying. Luckily the older boy was running in the Maze with Minho and Ben most days for the whole day. So, when they did see each other, she could blame her quiet self on being tired and he would usually be too tired to argue.

"Well, they look great," Frypan complimented her with a hand on his hip. "You gotta make those blueberry muffins again soon."

Sandra lightly laughed, finishing the last few cookie balls. "Once Newt gives me the okay, I'll make a batch."

"Hell yeah!" Frypan cheered, walking across the room to the bench. "I swear those muffins are like a drug."

"Did Sansa make blueberry muffins?" Chuck asked, walking into the kitchen with a bright smile.

Sandra made quick work of opening the oven and putting in the two trays of cookies before turning around, wiping her hands on the old grey apron that used to be white.

"Not today," she said, taking the apron off. "But I've made cookies that will be ready by the time dinner is being served." She threw the apron into a basket made out of old sheets full of other dirty clothes that needed washing. "I'm going to the creek to wash clothes. Will you be okay without my help?" she asked Frypan.

"Yeah, yeah." Frypan waved her off with a smile. "You've done your job for the day, and I'll get your cookies out soon."

Sandra sent him a thankful smile while picking up the fabric basket and walking out of the kitchen hut with Chuck trailing behind her.

Since the younger boy arrived, he usually worked during the day as a Slopper. But every afternoon he would join Sandra to the creek at the back of the woods and no other Glader would protest or complain, knowing it was normal for her to take in the Greenies for their first month in the Glade, showing them the ropes and teaching them what they need. Plus, after Nick's unfortunate death, they had been extra careful around her snappy mood which was mainly controlled by grief and anger.

"Did you bring towels?" Sandra questioned, the sound of leaves crunching under her shoes as they walked into the woods that had a settling chill. Soon, the Runners would be back, and dinner would be happening with her cookies as a treat.

Chuck nodded, slinging a bag over his shoulder. "Made sure to grab an extra one in case."

Sandra sent him a true smile over her shoulder, seemingly as he was one of the very few who made the dim light in her eyes slightly brighten. Only slightly.

The further they walked in the woods, the lighter Sandra felt, leaving her worries behind, even if it was only for an hour. The sounds of cows and pigs and the hustling Glade got quieter, being replaced by the sound of water. 

Three years ago, a week after Sandra had first arrived in the Box, she had felt on edge for days, barely sleeping or eating. She had discovered the small creek one night while sneaking out of Alby's hut after he'd offered it to her. Since that day, you could find her at the creek if she wasn't in the kitchen or with her usual friends.

"Do you think the Runners found anything new in the Maze?" Chuck questioned, dodging a low-hanging branch just as she did.

"I'm not sure," Sandra admitted, her body relaxing at the sight of the creek with crystal clear water showing the rocky ground. "If they did, then I'll be sure to tell you."

Chuck hummed at that, dropping the bag at his feet just as Sandra dropped the basket. The both of them sat in silence, taking their shoes off and extra clothing while birds chirped in the lush trees above them.

After taking off her black clothes, leaving her in a black sports bra and underwear, Sandra grabbed an arm full of clothes, goosebumps erupting across her body as she walked into the cold water. Chuck followed close behind her with the rest of the clothes and two bars of soap.

"So, did anyone give you any trouble today?" Sandra asked Chuck, sitting down until the water reached the middle of her chest and she soaked the clothes in the water.

"Only Adam," Chuck admitted quietly, sitting a little behind her with him being shorter.

Sandra frowned, starting to wash the clothes. "I'm not supposed to tell you this because Alby would kick my shucking ass, but you shouldn't let Adam push you around like he does." She paused, looking back at him. "When someone pushed me around, I used to cut up their shirts and pants. Alby was pissed of course, but I didn't care."

Chuck laughed, a small snort following that made her laugh with him. 

The two continued to wash clothes, making small chat about the Glade and about the secret to Sandra's baking that she only shared with him. Chuck was the sweetest boy in Sandra's opinion, and she saw him as her own little brother from the moment he arrived.

Of course, he wasn't her biological brother like Carlos was. The older boy and also the third one in the Glade had known he had a sister from the moment he woke up in the Box, even with all his other memories wiped. The same was said for Sandra, knowing Carlos was her older brother from the moment she saw him. The both of them—and the others—couldn't figure out why the siblings had remembered each other, and it bugged them all, but they knew it had to be for a reason. So, after a few months, the questions around them stopped and, well, the pair became joined at the hip.

Sandra was the sixth one to come up, and the first Runner. For a year and a half, she was the Keeper of the Runners, training Ben, Minho, Nick, and a few others with her brother. 

But then one day while running the Maze on her own—which was normal for her at the time—a Griever attacked her in broad daylight, leaving a large slice from her left shoulder blade, down to her right hip. For some reason, she hadn't been stung like the others who ran into a Griever. But she didn't question it when she woke up in the Med-Jacks hut two days later.

That was a dark day for the Glade, a feeling of anxiety and sorrow thickening the air the Gladers breathed in. Very few of the boys didn't like Sandra, but most of them did and saw her as their own sister in a way. So, for a pale and shaking Minho to bring her back, covered in her blood...Oh, it shook them all. 

Carlos was a mess. The usual tough exterior boy with a sharp tongue and fist always covered in cuts, was silent as death, not a sound out of his mouth as he sat by his sister's side, holding her hand for two days straight. 

Newt had thrown up when he saw her state, the gaping, deep wound on her back, but he still ran with a limp to the Med hut behind Minho. 

Alby was barking questions at Minho about what happened in the maze while Nick barked orders at Jeff and Clint to take care of her. 

Even Gally was pacing outside of the Med hut, rambling to Frypan who didn't bother with serving dinner that night as he worriedly waited for news on Sandra. 

As said earlier: that was a dark day for the Glade. And exactly why she was pulled from being a Runner and put in the kitchen which was her second favorite place to be.

"I was wondering where you were," a deep, silky voice drawled from the bank of the creek.

Sandra smiled, looking over near the fabric basket and clean clothes to see Carlos smiling at his sister, sweat dripping down his forehead with smudges of dirt on his tanned face and neck, making the scar along the left side of his jawline stand out.

"Someone had to wash our clothes," she softly said, holding up a shirt she was currently washing. "Chuck and I finished our jobs for the day, except this one."

Carlos tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you I would do it after I came back. You did the clothes last time."

Sandra shrugged her shoulders, facing back to the last of the clothes as Chuck quietly glanced between the Glade siblings. "You still need to map, shower, and eat," she stated. "I've got only a pair of pants left and then I'm done."

Carlos sighed, his eyes landing on the silver scar on her back that made a punch of guilt crash against his stomach. "Hey Greenie," he said, turning to the boy who nodded with a hint of fear in his eyes. Everyone was scared of Carlos...and for good reason. He was terrifying at times. "Has she eaten today?"

Chuck opened his mouth to answer, but Sandra cut in with a loud sigh. "Carlos, I'm right damn here."

"Well, no shit," Carlos muttered, crouching down to open the bag at his feet. "Leave the last of the clothes and go have a shower. Both of you." Chuck's eyes widened as Carlos looked up, sending him a warning look. "Separately."

"You're gonna scare the klunk out of him," Sandra laughed, standing up with the clean clothes in her arms and water drops hitting the surface of the creek.

"That's the point," Carlos sassed, holding open a towel while looking away from his little sister.

Sandra offered Chuck a soft smile, cocking her head to the other towel still in the bag as she walked toward her brother. "The clothes are all done, so there's no need for you to wash anything else," she informed her brother, dumping her wet pile of clothes into the basket.

"Uh, I'll hang them up," Chuck offered, keeping his eyes on the floor to avoid looking at her and not wanting Carlos to punch him. 

"I've got it, kid," Carlos said, wrapping the towel around Sandra before picking up the basket just as Chuck dropped his pile in. "If either of you get sick, Alby will have a tantrum. I can't be fucked to listen to one of those again after the last sickness that went around."

"Don't remind me," Sandra groaned, picking up her dry clothes and starting to walk back toward the Homestead. "The number of times I threw up should've killed me."

"I thought it was going to," Carlos whispered, grabbing the back of Chuck's wet shirt and hurrying him up to follow. "Dinner should be ready soon. I'll meet you two there after I hang up these clothes and have a shower."

Sandra only nodded her head, already missing the creek when the sound of the Gladers came into earshot.

--

[izcana]

Fic to accompany this image: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157904/chapters/66324680

[belphegor1982]

How about the first chapter Tommy appears?

[Pick any passage from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail/submission box. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet!]

Thanks a lot!! (Also I answered this kind of ask about a passage from chapter 2, if you want to take a look - it’s all spoiler-free!)

Here’s Thomas Sean Ferguson’s grand introduction, then :D Oh god, it’s kind of awkward, because like with Blake there’s a certain amount of early installment weirdness. Also I go on and oooooooon (sorry about that). But let’s go!

_________

Quite lost in his thoughts this time, [Jonathan] barely registered that he was walking past the Museum (where Evy is, right now, negotiating the Cairo Museum “lending” the Diamond of Ahm Shere to the British government - which kickstarts the plot) before somebody knocked into him, hard enough for both of them to crumple, breathless, on the ground. It took Jonathan thirty seconds to get his lungs in working order again and, instinctively, check his pockets for anything missing.

A lot of this commentary risks being “this used to be [thing] before I tweaked it in the rewrites”, and a lot of it is because I’ve gained some insight in the past twelve years. Jonathan’s first thought being checking his pockets (which - and I made it explicit in the second or third paragraph of the story :D - comes from his being a skilled pickpocket himself and knowing how it works), however, was there from the very beginning.

“So sorry I bumped into you, mate, didn’t mean to,” came the voice of the attacker. Jonathan’s eyes widened at the sound of this voice and he squinted up at its owner.

And cue Tom Ferguson :D He wasn’t my first OC, far from it (that dubious honour would probably belong to the buttload of OCs I created for my Marauder era story which died when Order of the Phoenix came out), but he was the first I got to really explore and develop, and he ended up one of my favourites ever. Em, I answered an ask of yours way back in 2015, “introduce us to two of your OCs” :o) The first was him, the second was Marguerite LeBeau.

“Tommy? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?”

The diamond is the reason the O’Connell-Carnahan gang goes to Egypt, but without Tommy, there’d be no plot. Hamilton would probably still find a way to “retrieve” the diamond from the museum, only without Evy and her family getting personally involved and then having to go back to the UK saying she failed her mission. and then cue the end of the world about a week and a half from there, but shhh - spoilers!

The fellow shook his head, still looking a bit dazed; then his own eyes, round and brown, (so he’s the opposite of Jon in almost every way, physically speaking. Like I said in the aforementioned OC ask, I designed him as a foil for Jon, fundamentally different in some ways but very similar in others. Physically speaking he’s basically Sean Astin (with some James Corden thrown in) with brown eyes, blond hair, and a Liverpool accent.) went even rounder as he stared at Jonathan. “Jon! What the hell are you doing ‘ere?”

For the longest time Tommy used to call Jonathan by his last name here (and Jon’s earlier line used to be “Ferguson? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?”). I changed it quite recently. I think I wanted to convey the idea that school friends at the time often called each other by their last names; but since he calls Jonathan “Jon” 100% of the time - and is the only one to do so, which I have Feelings about - I went back to correct it.

“Glad to see you too, old chap,” laughed Jonathan, standing up and dusting himself off before offering a hand at the man on the ground, who accepted it gladly.

Heh. Look, one of the staples of Mummy fanfiction was and still is the old school friend of Evy’s who follows either the siblings (TM time) or the whole family (TMR/post-TMR time) to Egypt and falls in love with Ardeth Bay. I’m not throwing stones here; I’ve read a couple I really liked. There’s the odd Jonathan/OFC romance, too. What I set out to do as a baby writer (I was 21 at the time!) and unsuspecting ace was to write something completely devoid of romance (except the odd Evy/Rick snuggle and, of course, all-encompassing love for each other). And then, as I reread the story for rewrites a decade and a half later, I became more and more convinced that Jonathan and Tommy used to be more than friends, and then when Elizabeth came along the three of them got together as a thruple and very happy for a while. (For some reason I couldn’t work this explicitly into FTaH, though - it felt too much like hinting at this huge story I was never going to write and might have made FTaH much too crowded. So it’s up to the reader to decide, really. Personally, I like both options.) So here’s 37 year old me shipping Jon with a female OC and a male OC, and quite enthusiastically, at that. *chuckles* Wonder what my 21 y-o self would think of it…

He hadn’t seen Thomas Ferguson since some time after the end of the war, what felt like ages ago. They’d made quite a pair at Oxford, the two of them – the scrawny, foppish Southerner with the quiet grin and the sticky fingers, and the broad-shouldered, round-faced Scouser with the laughing eyes and the deceptively innocent face. They’d rowed for the Dark Blues for a bit, got properly pickled on Boat Race Nights, and helped each other out of many a tight spot. Oh, for the halcyon days of youth.

One of the reasons I picked up FTaH again is because the second half of 2019 was very, very British for me. I saw (and read) Good Omens for the first time in early June and my feelings exploded; July was very much about discovering the delights of P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster (TV show and books). Halfway through that month I remembered my everlasting fondness for the characters of The Mummy and realised the protagonists and Bertie were the same generation, more or less, and I started imagining a crossover. By the time August rolled in I was fully into TM/TMR again, reading fic and my fingers itching to at least correct some iffy parts of FTaH. This last sentence, about Jon’s and Tom’s Oxford days, would never have come out that way if I hadn’t read Wodehouse.

As soon as Tommy was on his feet he was wringing Jonathan’s hand with all the energy he’d been famous for as a boy. “Sorry, Jon, mate, I was a bit stunned –” After all these years, he still retained some of that accent, too! “– En’t everyday you bump into a pal from Oxford in the middle of Cairo! How’d you get here, for starters?”

…Tommy’s accent. *sighs* I’m not a fan of writing accents phonetically in the first place. When I write Newkirk (Hogan’s Heroes) and his Cockney accent, there isn’t much except the odd “me” for “my” or things like “d’you”. I did have to make it obvious Tommy had an accent, though, if only because later Jonathan is surprised when he tones it down to speak with the curator. (This is something his 18 year old self found incredibly difficult, btw.) @thisstableground oversaw the first chapter and gave me very valuable tips, including “en’t” (// “ain’t), which was super helpful in giving Tommy’s accent its own specificity and meant that I didn’t need him to drop “h”s and “g”s all over the place. (which he does do, but hopefully not in a way that takes you away from the story.)

As for why he’s from Liverpool as opposed to, say, Manchester or the East End of London, the answer is very simple. I’d discovered the Beatles a year or two prior and they remain one of my favourite bands in the whole world ♥

“Well, I followed my sister,” Jonathan replied, grinning. In fifteen years or so, he had not realised how much he had actually missed this accent. “She’s giving a hand to the curator of the Museum of Antiquities – she’s something of an authority now, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh aye? That’s fantastic. I en’t forgotten how you’d talk about her, y’know. On and on and on. I’m curious to see what she looks like.”

Somethingthat didn’t change after rewrites is the idea that Jon was verysecretive about his Oxford years. Tom and Evy never met before this,and Evy hadn’t even heard about Tom before.

Jonathan stole a glance at the entrance steps of the Museum, and turned to Tommy with a smirk. “Really? Well, if you really want to, I suppose I could…”

His sister had just appeared on the stairs, accompanied by the curator, an elderly man with greying hair and whiskers. The curator, Dr Fahad Hakim, has a somewhat larger role later on, but this is just a cameo to let you know he exists :o) There’s another mention earlier, too. Tommy followed Jonathan’s gaze and looked at them, goggling at Evy in particular.

“Jon – are my eyes mistaken, or is this gorgeous woman Doctor Evelyn O’Connell? I’ve read about her, she’s famous in my line of work… According to what I’ve read, she was one of the first people to make it out of the City of the Dead alive –”

He doesn’t say what his “line of work” is, but we (and Jonathan) can infer it has something to do with archaeology or Egyptology. And, incidentally, I’m setting up the first alarm bells here because, as Evy points out in the following chapter, at the time her name was “Carnahan”, so how come Tommy didn’t seem to make the connection between Jon’s bookish sister and this English librarian with the same name? The answer is: because he’s nervous (because he’s in Cairo on secret Chamber of Horus business) and as delighted as he is to see Jon again after so many years his brain went “YOU KNOW NOTHING” then backpedalled and went “…OKAY, YOU KNOW SOME THINGS.”

Jonathan’s grin widened as he nodded. “Yes, that’d be her.”

Tommy rambled on as they walked closer to the stairs, “That’s bloody amazing! I thought she’d look, you know, like in the pictures in the paper, the bookish type with glasses – your typical Southern spinster,” he added with a wink. They waited for the curator to bid her goodbye, and Jonathan, greatly enjoying the situation, crept up on his sister to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey there, old mum – how’s your day been?”

Evy started, then her expression shifted from slightly irked to a smile at her brother’s laugh. She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Jonathan, the things that amuse you…”

SIBS!!! I love writing siblings, and those two in particular. One of the things that I find amusing/endearing is how comfortable they are with each other, physically (and emotionally) speaking. It’s all gentle touch here, light slap there, running hand in hand, lots of things you wouldn’t expect from two Very English siblings from the first half of the 20th century.

“You’re just miffed that I startled you. C’mon, I’d like you to meet someone – an admirer,” he added with a grin to Tommy, who stood there, his eyes wide. “Thomas Ferguson, an old school friend of mine. Tommy – Evelyn Carnahan O’Connell, my famous baby sister.”

There’s a couple of instances where someone introduces Tom as “Thomas”, or Tom introducing himself as such. Most of the time, though, he’s “Tommy” - until chapter 9, where we spend some time in his head for the first time and see he thinks of himself as “Tom”, and when we go back to Jon’s PoV in chapter 11 Jonathan made the mental switch to “Tom”, as well, to separate the boy from his youth from the man he’s become. I actually spell it out in chapter 17: “A lot had happened since that late afternoon in Giza when his friend had pointed a gun at him and stopped being ‘Tommy’. ‘Tommy’ was a warm memory of loud laughter, daring escapes, bright eyes over pints clinking in the comfortable darkness of a well-loved pub. Tom, on the other hand, was a fairly decent man chucked into a complex situation, who had a wife he loved dearly but lied to about his job, who had not wanted to bring harm to an old friend but had done so anyway.”

Evy held out her hand, which Tommy grabbed and shook heartily. “So you’re the old scoundrel’s sister? No wonder he talked about you – though you don’t quite fit the description now…”

“What exactly did you tell your ‘school friends’ about me?” asked Evy, warning in her voice, though the twinkle in her eye did not quite disappear. Nevertheless, Jonathan preferred to ignore her question, earning a hard nudge in the ribs.

He bragged, actually. A lot. Since he thought Tommy and Lizzie would never meet Evy, Jonathan considered himself free to speak quite enthusiastically of his baby sister’s achievements and how bright she was. Of course, he also complained a good deal, because even at 12 Evy had a penchant for being bossy that came out even in letters.

“So, what did you say your ‘line of work’ was?” he asked Tommy.

“Well – don’t laugh. I work at the British Consulate in Cairo, specialising in antique stuff. Oh, I’m sorry, Dr O’Connell,” he stammered with a glance at Evy who had an eyebrow raised, “I mean I’m one of the chief agents in the British Antique Research Department.”

No he’s not! He’s actually a secret agent, kinda :D And not remotely close to a “chief agent”, at that. Tom Ferguson is deeply in love with his wife and nothing will ever change that state of affairs, but he might have a little intellectual crush on Evy, which leads him to… wanting to impress her a little bit.

“I’ve heard of you!” exclaimed Evy. “At least of that Research Department. They’re gradually cutting off public funds – encouraging individual financing – but that won’t do any good for scientific research! Such a stupid decision is only going to –”

“So you lot are the ones she kept fuming about for half a year!” Jonathan snorted. The infamous Ferguson rotten luck struck again.

I still regret I didn’t find more opportunities to showcase how ridiculously unlucky Tommy could get sometimes. Ah well.

Tommy looked dejected. Evy must have seen this, because she bit her lip and said, in softer tones, “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. But as my brother said, I’ve been… rather upset over this. There’s been some pressure on the British Museum lately by private patrons who threatened to pull out their funding on some… sensitive collections. Without the Crown to back us up, we might have to cave in to their ridiculous demands.”

Before the rewrites, Evy’s speech used to be a lot more “private funding is bad” without much nuance or justification. I changed it to something that hopefully makes sense and justifies her previous outburst. 

“I’ll – I’ll tell my superiors about it,” said Tommy, still looking unsure. “See what I can do. I’m sure it won’t be much, but… Well. I’ll have tried.”

“That’s nice,” Evy said cheerfully, taking Jonathan’s arm and starting to walk. See what I mean about physicality? She doesn’t even ask him with a look, just takes his arm and that’s that. And he lets her, because he’d do the same thing. “Look, the two of you – I’ve had something of a rough day, so I’ll go home, if you don’t mind. You can –”

“Brilliant idea!” said Jonathan, flashing a grin at his sister. “I thought of going to the Sultan’s Casbah, but you might find it a tad – let’s say – dingy, my good friend.”

The Sultan’s Casbah, in the novelisation of the film and my personal headcanon, was the bar Jonathan patronised the night before the first time we see Evy and where he stole a valuable-looking puzzle box from an unsuspecting drunk American. 

“Worse than the Turf?” Seeing Evy’s puzzled look, Tommy explained, “Sorry, private joke. I mean the Turf Tavern, that’s where I saw him for the first time. Me family didn’t ‘ave much money, so I used to work there to pay for my studies. Very nice pub, didn’t deserve the reputation.”

The Best Beloved and I took a trip to Oxford in the spring of 2003 (by bus - 20 hours to get there, same to come back home) and while we were so broke we had to settle for a soup and some rice in a lovely Thai restaurant we did go for a drink at the Turf. I remember a dimly-lit room with dark wood, and I think either they changed a lot of it or my memory isn’t that good because it doesn’t really look like that on the Google Maps pics. Still, I liked it, and when I needed an Oxford pub for the story it’s the one I worked in. Incidentally, there was a lot of illegal gambling going on in there in the 19th century, hence Tommy’s mention of the pub’s bad reputation.

“I’m sure you did indeed see a lot of my brother there,” Evy slipped in slyly. Jonathan threw a mock glare at her.

“To think you are almost my only family. What a shame.” Then, as Tommy looked uncertain, he added, “Carry on, Tom.”

“All right. So I was one of the only students who needed a job, and there were some others who thought that it was – how’d they put it? – a ‘disgrace’ to our university.”

“Preposterous,” said Evy sternly. “As if money could take you further than talent.”

Jonathan bit back on the cynical comment that crossed his mind. Sometimes Evy’s naïveté baffled him.

“Right,” said Tommy uncertainly, glancing at Jonathan. “So, one day, a little bunch of lads come in, and Jon here was sometimes hanging with ‘em at the time –”

Because Jonathan likes to gamble with people with deep pockets :P

Evy glared at Jonathan in advance, and he threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me like that! I haven’t done anything!” Evy’s gaze softened, and Jonathan finished, “…Yet.”

That earned him a playful slap on the arm, and a laugh from Tommy, who went on, “Anyway, one of the blokes orders somethin’ or other, and starts to poke fun at me. Well, I was used to it, so I let them be. Then they continued, and I finally noticed that skinny lad in the corner who was makin’ fun of them for making fun of me. Didn’t quite understand what the hell was going on – oh, sorry, Dr O’Connell – what was happening.”

While John Hannah is not “skinny” by any stretch, he is rather svelte, and one of my unimpeachable headcanons for Jonathan is that he was skinny as a rake in his youth - until he went through basic training (then WW1) and his shoulders filled out a little. It’s more or less what happened to the Best Beloved, so I feel quite secure in this headcanon’s plausibility. Plus, picturing 18 year old Jonathan as a mix of awkward gangliness and skinny limbs and aristocratic poise is just funny. (and I find the comparison with Tommy - who at that point was soft and a little chubby but already had broad shoulders - rather endearing.)

Evy smiled. “You’ll have to watch your mouth in front of my son, but otherwise it’s fine. And please, call me Evelyn.”

Tommy beamed. “Right, uh, Evelyn. So, uh –”

“What he didn’t know at that point,” interrupted Jonathan, “was that I had my eye on that fellow – what’s his name – Farbow. He owed me quite a bit of money, but wouldn’t repay me. So I was looking for a way to get him back for it.”

“And get the rest of his wallet in the process, of course.”

“Evy, he owed me seventeen pounds. (Which used to be £70 until I did some research and saw that £17 was A Bloody Fortune a the time.) And he was not what I’d call a ‘decent bloke’ – nasty, disdainful piece of work he was, and his little friends with him. Always a dirty word about the Scouser who worked at the Turf Tavern, just because he didn’t belong to his snobby little world. I did the community a favour, really.”

What he doesn’t say is that Edwin Farbow also had a lot to say about “half-Egyptian mongrels” who thought they belonged in those ancient walls. Too bad I couldn’t find a way to work it in this particular fic. If I ever manage to finish at least Tommy’s part of One-Step, Two-Step, Waltz, the first chapter of Pirouette features the whole scene.

“Don’t push it, Jonathan,” warned Evy.

Tommy carried on. “Well, I was glad there was at least one person who didn’t think like Edwin Farbow – nice change. Then Farbow said something – I don’t remember what it was about, I just remember it made me really angry, really. An’ it’s not a pretty sight when I’m really angry at someone.”

It’s always the quiet, genial ones, isn’t it.

Jonathan remembered, but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.

Both because what Farbow said was pretty damn offensive to Tommy’s character, background, and lineage, and also because Farbow’s rant included “It’s bad enough they let inpeople like Carnahan, who only exists because a glorifiedgrave-robber shagged some darkey and didn’t even have the decencyto pretend otherwise –” and he really doesn’t want to bring this up in front of Evy, who’s had to deal with her own share of this kind of racist bullshit and doesn’t need a reminder.

“An’ – an’ I just lost it, y’know? I dropped his tea over his ‘ead –”

“I say, that one was pretty funny,” Jonathan said, smiling widely at the memory. The strangled yelp that had followed had definitely been one of the best parts.

“So they all leaped for me, obviously – began to punch me, the five or six of them – hey, I still managed to get back at them!” Tommy added quickly, as if defending his honour. Evy hid a smile, and it occurred to Jonathan that that last sentence had something very Rick-like about it. “But I en’t a fool. I know a losing fight when I’m in one.”

“Don’t tell me. Jonathan bravely threw himself into the fight to take on as many attackers as possible.” There was mischievous laughter in Evy’s voice, and her eyes were twinkling. If anyone other than her had quipped that way about him, Jonathan would probably have taken offence, or at least pretended to. But they knew each other enough not to cross the line.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Well, that wasn’t quite Jon’s style – I don’ know, might’ve changed since then. But yeah, he did. One moment I was squashed under five or six, the next I found out we were two on the floor.”

This was perhaps the biggest suspension of disbelief I’m asking the reader to make - which, in a story where governments have secret agencies to keep an eye on magical ancient artefacts and a diamond has magic powers, is saying something. Jonathan throwing himself into a fight because someone he loves (ie. four people in the whole world that we know of) is in danger? Yep, that checks out, that’s what he does both in TM and TMR. But an (almost) complete stranger? I needed one hell of a justification. Which ended up… 60% Farbow’s money and 40% Farbow being a giant arsehole who had no business making decent bartenders look like that.

Evy began to laugh. “Why, Jonathan? My Jonathan, in a fight, for someone he barely knew?”

At that Jonathan cleared his throat, a mite embarrassed. “I told you, I was looking for Farbow’s wallet. That was the perfect diversion – you should’ve seen that twit looking in every corner for his lost wallet afterwards. It was three months before he gave up.” And it’s lucky you didn’t see me then. I was a bloody mess. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.” Evy smiled. “You never told me that.”

To be fair, there’s a LOT of things he never told you, old girl ;o)

“Should I have?”

“I don’t know, it’s – it was nice of you to do that, even for the wrong reasons. I’m proud of you.”

Jonathan felt an unexpected lump rise in his throat. Not a very big one, but enough to keep him from talking for a few seconds. It was always like this whenever she said something really nice to him. It caught him off guard each and every time.

Look, it took me years to realise it, but I’m a sucker for validation. Sometimes it bleeds out on characters I write.

After a little while, Evy stopped in front of a door and announced, “Well, we’re home.”

“Nice house,” commented Tommy, taking in the sand-coloured neat front and the curtains at the windows.

“Our ‘old haunt’ since the family moved to Egypt,” Jonathan said, opening the door and stepping aside to let his sister in. “Evy wasn’t even walking then.”

In the first film, Evy, Rick, Jonathan and the remainder of the American party go straight to Fort Brydon, and the next thing we see is Evy emptying her suitcase while Rick tries to fill it. Since both Carnahan siblings actually live in Cairo, I thought they would live in an actual house, and from there I extrapolated that the family had one house in England (the manor we see in TMR) and a smaller pied-à-terre in Cairo.

“I do believe I was,” Evy protested.

Jonathan snorted. “Oh, you weren’t. You crawled.”

si b l i n gssss ♥♥ And like, you can always count on a big sib to remind you that you could be ridiculous as a kid. I should know, I’m the big sister :D

Evy seemed to resist the urge to slap her brother and walked into the living room, her nose in the air. She was greeted by two simultaneous voices:

“Mum!”

“Hey, hon.”

Rick’s first words in this story, and it’s greeting his wife ^^ I didn’t do it on purpose, but it’s. Y’know. There.

Jonathan waited a few seconds, then walked into the room in turn, and grinned at the sight of his nephew looking genuinely eager to see him. He was not fooled, however – as soon as Evy wasn’t looking, Alex mouthed the words “Got one?” and frowned as his uncle shook his head. No, he still had no present for Mum’s birthday.

Evy’s birthday mainly originated as a device to get characters (especially Jonathan) moving. It’s the reason he’s roaming the streets of Cairo just before he bumps into Tommy, and why he and Alex go to the bazaar in chapter 5. It also pops up further on in the story, but I’m not saying anything because spoilers.

“Uncle Jon? Who’s that?”

“Who, him?” Jonathan pointed at Tommy behind him, looking uncomfortable at the family reunion, and Alex rolled his eyes. “Tom Ferguson, he was in class with me at Oxford. I ran into him by chance today.”

Tommy stepped past Jonathan and held out his hand to Alex, nearest to him. “Hi – glad to meet you. Jon’s nephew, eh?”

“Yeah,” said Alex, eyeing him with all the suspicion of a ten-year-old who’d seen what he had seen. Behind him, Rick’s eyes spoke loads about his own distrust. But mistrust towards Jonathan and everything related was par for the course on his part, and, admittedly, reasonable.

Alex has Seen Things. This may sound tongue-in-cheek, but it’s true. After what happened in TMR, he’s 100% entitled to being suspicious of strangers. As for Rick, I took my cue from one of his first lines to Jon in TMR being “What did you do this time?” implying that the weird shit happening right now, with the men in red and the sexy lady waving snakes around isn’t exactly unheard of. Hence the “and, admittedly, reasonable”, which I added in the rewrites.

“Thomas Ferguson, British Antique Research Department,” said Tommy, holding out a hand towards Rick, who shook it slowly, still reluctant.

“Rick O’Connell.”

“So you’re Dr O’Connell’s husband? Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m impressed, you’ve no idea.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “Impressed?”

“It seems I’m rather famous in the Research Department,” said Evy, laughing.

“Make that infamous,” quipped Jonathan.

“The Department owes your wife a great deal. She was the one who uncovered a huge amount of our information about some obscure periods of Egyptian history, as well as the major part of serious knowledge we’ve got on Hamunaptra,” Tommy pointed out, and Evy blushed. “She’s a legend – one of the original three who managed to go to Hamunaptra and live to tell the tale! But… I assume you’re another one?”

Oh, Tommy. MATE. You’re saying you know three people made it out of Hamunaptra alive, one of whom a woman with the exact same first and last name as your best friend’s sister who had a passion for ancient history, but you had no idea he was one of them as well? 

Incidentally, the early installment weirdness I mentioned earlier mostly consists in Tommy being a lot more energetic and innocent-looking than he later proves to be (which is a little more grounded and pragmatic than Jon). In fact, he and Jonathan’s first couple of scenes together give the impression that he’s the red and Jon’s the blue in the “Bue oni, red oni” trope, when later chapters show Jon as a little bit more of a disaster while Tom struggles to make better choices and be more sensible. Which in the end would make them shades of purple, really.

“Yeah,” said Rick, looking a bit nonplussed. Jonathan definitely didn’t regret bringing Tommy in. Seeing Rick O’Connell confused was a very rare occurrence, too rare to be missed.

“I never knew – who was the third one?”

Jonathan was now struggling to keep a straight face. Rick blinked, and pointed at his brother-in-law. “That was him.”

“You!?” God, the look on his face was priceless. “You were at Hamunaptra?”

“Yes,” risked Jonathan, laughter rising in his voice. “And believe me, it wasn’t exactly a picnic. Oh, by the way, there were four of us, not three.”

Meaning Ardeth, of course. My take is that Tommy - and by extension the Chamber of Horus - know about as much about the Medjai as Evy knew about the Book of Amun-Ra prior to the events of TM: a non-negligible amount of information, but all of it second-hand and some of it a bit dicey.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Rick roll his eyes and grinned, undaunted. This was proving to be a fun evening.

Make the most of it, people, because it’s all going to go downhill fast…

Thank you ♥♥♥

[justinewt]

The World is Corrupted - TMR REWRITE Chapter Seven

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

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Summary: The safe haven that they had been promised was not exactly what the group of friends had expected and after the truth behind their saviors came to light, Thomas led them all across the scorchs, ignoring Janson’s warnings about the outside world. Everything had fallen to ruins but they had to keep going, and get to safety from those who wished them harm, under the guise of benevolence.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: TMR Scorch Trials spoilers, Janson AKA Rat man, needles, restrains, angst, some violence, blood, escape, cranks, decaying flesh, mention of suicide

Grace tried to struggle as best as she could and get out of the guard's grip, but he grabbed her free hand and held them behind her back to restrain her and she had to resign herself as he led her through a maze of corridors, all looking the same, bright lights hanging from the ceiling. The strangest thing in all this was that the guard was absolutely not taking her in the same direction than the other teenagers that got their names called a moment ago and it made her think, maybe they just wanted to do a few more tests with her blood or something, not that it was any better than getting her body put under a tarpaulin and brought to that room Aris showed her and Thomas just the night prior. Seeing that she calmed down and was being a little more compliant and under control, the guard let go of one of her arm, still holding the other one pretty tightly and she thought that if she kept behaving this way, maybe at some point there might be a window of opportunity for her to try to escape and reunite with Thomas and the others and ultimately, get out of this forsaken place. This was the goal; get the fuck out of here but right now, she had to keep full possession of her faculties to succeed in slipping away from them when the right time would come.

The guard stopped in front of a door, swiped his access card to the side and it opened with a long beep. Inside, a few doctors were already busying themselves with vials and such, here and there and a woman turned to them as they entered. She gave a smile to Grace, but the teenager could see that it wasn’t genuine, but she just let the guard lead her further into the room as the door closed shut behind them with the same beep, meaning it was now locked.

“We just need to run a few more tests, and then you can join the others.” The weirdly gentle tone of her voice made Grace uneasy. She nodded and the guard exchanged a few words with them as she sat down on a bed to the side of the room, and he left. She was trapped in this room with three doctors; the woman that addressed her seemed to be kind of in charge of the two others but as Grace was observing her surroundings, she was still very much unsure as to how to get rid of the three of them and make her escape. Right now, she had to make them think she was really oblivious as to whatever they were going to do to her, and really, she was because she had no idea what was actually going on in their minds but what she wasn’t oblivious to, was the fact that it was certainly not for her own good like they pretended it was. She was watching them, seated on the edge of the bed and one of the other two doctors, a man, approached her and asked her to reach out her arm and roll up the sleeve of her t-shirt. She obliged and he put a tourniquet around her arm that he tightened, and he clipped it so that it woudn’t move and the veins in the crook of her elbow would raise. He then came back with a needle and filled half a dozen vials with her blood, which he then stored on a plate on a metal roller tray and pushed it aside while the woman gave him more instructions. It was all scientific gibberish that Grace didn’t understand so she looked at the third doctor as he looked at a sample of her blood through the microscope, or she guessed it was what he was doing.

When an alarm suddenly went off in the building, Grace subtly loosened the tourniquet, unclipping it from around her arm and she pulled the needle out. She remained very quiet and discreet, taking advantage of the fact that the three doctors had their backs turned to her, so she slowly got up, the needle in her hand, a thin stream of blood flowing down her arm, she looked around and grabbed a pair of scissors from a tray. She had to get the access card of one of them in order to get out, knowing that she would have to get physical. She set her sights on the doctor closest to her and reached out to grab his neck, holding the scissors up to his throat. The two other physicians jumped on their feet; their eyes widened.

“Open the door.” Grace ordered, trying to keep her voice from shaking from the stress and fear she was feeling.

“Put the scissors down, girl. You don’t want to do this.” The man she was holding tried to convince her to let go of him, but she put the scissor blades closer to his glottis and he gulped, holding his head up.

“No, I don’t. Just fucking let me out of here.” She said through her teeth, her jaw clenched. When the woman held up her card to her, Grace had to act and think quicker than ever; she threw the man onto the one standing near the microscope and in a haste, grabbed the card, threatening the woman with the scissors so she would stay away, and she opened the door and ran down the hallway. In the corridors, a red emergency light, like a rotating beacon light, was illuminating the place, the alarm still going strong and after a minute, she stopped in her tracks, panting and looked around her, the pair of scissors still in her hand. She was relieved she got away from the doctors without actually hurting or killing anyone but now, she had to find her friends and brother and thought that in order to do so, she needed to get to Teresa, wherever she was and if they weren’t already on their way to get her and in that case, she would probably run into them… maybe. When she heard heavy footsteps coming her way, she held her breath and stood behind the wall and waited a second for them to pass. She then started running again, not really knowing where she was going and she gasped, almost letting out a scream when someone suddenly stood in her way. She held the scissors in front of her but eased up upon seeing it was Minho.

“Are you okay?” He looked down at the blood on her arm, worried and she nodded. The others arrived a second later and Thomas noticed her, and he couldn’t look more relieved to see his sister. Teresa was with them too.

“They’re coming.” Newt warned them and they ran off, eventually getting to a long corridor with a hangar door at the end. He tried passing it next to digicode thing to get it to open but it kept beeping, and the door remained closed.

“Thomas!” Janson’s voice rose at the other end of the hallway, and they turned their heads to him. He had a whole squad marching behind him. While the others stood there, almost glued to the door, Thomas walked in his direction, holding up the gun he had picked up.

“Open this door, Janson!” The latter held up his hands.

“You really don’t want me to.”

“Open the damn door!” Thomas then yelled. Minho kept trying to open the door with the access card and Grace suddenly thought of the pass she stole from the other doctor. She realized she didn’t have it in her hands anymore, so she slowly looked down, patting the pockets of her pants.

“Listen to me! I’m trying to save your life. The maze is one thing, but you kids wouldn’t last one day out in the Scorch.” Janson tried reasoning with them. When Grace felt the card beneath her fingers, she pulled it out and Minho let her try to open the door with it. Her hands were shaking. “If the elements don’t kill you, the Cranks will. Thomas, you have to believe me. I only want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, let me guess. WICKED is good?” Thomas’ question led to a heavy silence from Janson and Grace couldn’t help but glance over her shoulders. It was indeed WCKD that brought them here and kept them locked up. Janson shook his head with a smirk. He just dropped the “caring director” act.

“You’re not getting through that door, Thomas.” Just when he finished his sentence, the door buzzed and opened upwards. In the hangar on the other side were Winston and Aris.

“Hey, guys.”

“Come on!” Siggy urged them and they joined their two friends.

“Thomas! Come on! Let’s go!” Newt called. Thomas then tried to fire at Janson, he only hit the shields the guards held in front of them until the gun clicked and he threw it at them before sprinting towards the hangar. Grace widened her eyes when the door started to close and she called out to Thomas, joined in by everyone else. She felt like she stopped breathing and gasped loudly when she saw her brother throw himself under the door, sliding on his back just a second before the door closed completely and Minho and Newt instinctively reached for Thomas and helped him up.

“Move! Move!” Aris jogged to the door and hit the digicode on their side, so they couldn’t open the door and get to them. Janson and two guards came up to the door, enraged. Elecricity crackled as they tried to get the vault door to open. Grace was standing next to Thomas, and he put a hand on her shoulder, reassured that she was there, and the two siblings stared at Janson through the small rectangular window on the door and he flipped him the bird before Minho urged them to come. They didn’t waste any more time and ran away with their friends. The thin and dried line of blood on her arm slightly pulled on her skin as she moved but there were more urgent things to care about, like getting out of this place, and they were doing just that. Now that they got past Janson and a few of his men, their chances of survival got higher, and their determination too. They reached the huge door through which they came a few days ago and Thomas immidietaly grabbed the lever, pulling on it before stepping back. The door hissed and opened. There was a strong wind blowing outside.

"Come on! Come on!” Thomas prompted them and they ran out before the guards got to them. The group was already climbing up the dunes in front of the building when they looked for them around the entrance. Cars were being driven out and they could hear the soldiers yell to each other to find them. “Come on, go! Go! We’ll lose them in the storm!” They went a little further and all lied down on the sand, letting the vehicles pass in the distance until Thomas spoke. “Everybody, go, go, go. Stay low.” Starting by crawling away, they got up and ran the other way.

“Where are we even going?” Minho inquired, confused as they reached the windowed roof of a building buried deep into the sand. One of the windows was broken and Teresa jumped in. Thomas got scared and called out to her, but she was fine and told them to join her down there, so they didn’t wait around and slid down the sand, really struggling to keep their balance as they got down. Breathing heavily, they looked around and Minho turned on his flashlight, sweeping the surroundings with the beam. The place was in ruins. He turned to his friends. “Where the hell are we?”

“We gotta go.” Thomas motioned for them to come along, and Minho went to follow him when Teresa rose her voice.

“Thomas, stop!” The two young men went to a halt. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s WICKED. They lied to us. We never escaped. Me and Aris, we found bodies. Too many to count.” Grace silently sighed, understanding that behind the door Aris showed them, there were indeed bodies, and she was probably lucky they didn’t bring her there; or maybe they were planning to take her there, but she had escaped first.

“What do you mean? Dead bodies?” Minho wondered.

“No, but they weren’t alive either.” Thomas seemed perturbed by what he had seen with Aris. “They had them strung up. With tubes coming out of them. They were being… they were being drained. There’s something inside of us that WICKED wants. Something in our blood.” Grace frowned, looking down at the blood on her arm and the tiny hole left by the needle. They still had the vials filled with her blood and she had no idea what could be so priceless in it, or why they had to take so much from her. “So, we have to get as far away drom them as possible.”

“Okay. So, what’s the plan?” Newt asked, hands on his hips, catching his breath. “You do have a plan, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“Well, we followed you out here, Thomas. And now you’re saying that you have no idea where we’re going or what we’re doing.”

“Wait.” Aris spoke, staring into space, thinking. “Janson said something about people hiding in the mountains. Some kind of resistance or army.”

“The Right Arm.” Thomas added, looking up at Minho and Newt. The latter wasn’t very convinced by all this and seemed rather annoyed. “The Right Arm. If they’re really against WICKED, maybe they can help us.”

“People. In the mountains. Mountain people. That’s your plan?”

“It’s the only chance we have.” He replied softly.

“Hey, guys.” Winston’s voice rose behind Thomas, and he turned around. “Check this out. Minho, give me a light.” Minho approached and kneeled down next to him, and the beam of the flashlight revealed trails of footprints in the sand. “Someone’s been down here.”

Cautiously and in religious silence, Minho and Winston got to their feet and the group moved forward into the premises, on the lookout. Grace couldn’t stop thinking about the doctors and what they were going to do with all the blood they drew. She didn’t even think of it when she tried to escape and now thought that she should have destroyed it before leaving but she had no idea that they actually wanted something inside of it. But what also troubled her was why they draw blood only from her, or at least, she didn’t know if they did the same with Teresa or any of the others. Thomas had seen the blood on her arm so he would probably bring it up to her at some point, or she would, because she started to feel the need to get it off her chest. They walked further in the building and Minho approached a door. He looked inside with his flashlight and noticed a bunch of water jugs and he and a few others helped him roll up the door.

“Looks like people lived here.” Minho observed, picking up a piece of clothing from a mattress. Teresa and Grace approached a counter and found a couple of flashlights lying there while Siggy found a bigger lamp he held up in front of him.

“Where are they now?” Newt wondered.

“Let’s pack some of this stuff up.” Thomas concluded, putting on a jacket. “Anything you think you might need. We’ll split up, see what else we can find. Meet back here.”

“Wait, Thomas.” Newt gave him the flashlight he found, and Minho then walked away with Thomas and Aris. Grace sighed, looking around with her flashlight. She couldn’t stop wondering about what kind of tests the doctors would run with her blood and she couldn’t understand what they wanted with them, what was so special about her, or any of the others. She put the flashlight down on the counter, the beam illuminating her, and she scratched the dry blood off her skin. She then grabbed the light, glancing at the others and walked around the room, imitating them and after she found a dusty but empty bag, she took it and started filling it up with stuff that she believed could be useful to them, trying not to think of anything. A few minutes later, all the lamps and fairy lights hanging around in the building suddenly came on and they all looked up in surprise and confusion. They walked out of the room, holding their bags and just looking around, wondering what was going on until they heard Thomas shout in the distance and worriedly stared in his direction as he and Minho arrived, running at full speed towards them, calling out to them. A second later, they all understood why they had to run; a whole horde of cranks, screeching and rattling came running after them. They climbed up some stairs in a haste, some were panicking, asking questions without ever stopping, the beams of their flashlights just going crazy, swaying in all directions.

On the upper floor, they got in front of another crank. Aris brandished what he was holding in his hand and rushed towards the creature. He hit him in the knees, and he threw himself forward, splitting the group in two. The cranks were coming from all around them, it was very overwhelming, and they had a hard time knowing where to look, just shouting indistinctly at one another. Grace and the others ran the other way, urged by Thomas to go around while he and Teresa were stuck in the stairs. They eventually all reunited and ran forward, just trying to find a way out before the creatures caught up with them. Grace kicked in something lying on the ground and lost her balance, almost falling down if it weren’t for Thomas who ran next to her. He grabbed her arm, glancing over his shoulder, Newt right after them.

“Newt!” They all yelled out to him when a crank jumped out a window and pinned him down. He called for help, struggling until Thomas rushed to him, kicking the creature off the edge, freeing Newt. Grace grabbed his hands and helped him up in a haste and they looked at the dozens of cranks coming their way, with wide eyes as they started running again.

“Through here! Through here! Come on, let’s go! They’re coming!” Minho led them through an opened grid on the side.

“Guys, where are we going?” Newt asked as they ran, breathing heavily. The creatures were already following them in the corridor they took when Thomas stopped at a door and tried to get it open, but it was closed and the cranks were getting dangerously close to them, so they resumed their run, not having even a single second to catch their breath.

“It’s a dead end!” Minho exclaimed.

“This one!” Thomas found a door and he and Minho started violently kicking and nudging it to break the lock.

“I’ll hold them back!” Winston declared as the creatures approached. He aimed his gun towards them and shot a few of these monsters down. “Get that door open!”

“Move!”

“Come on, Frypan!” Minho encouraged and their friend rushed in the door, finally knocking the lock off its hinges and opening the door. “Come on, it’s open!”

“Everyone through! Come on! Come on!” Thomas then urged the group. When he followed them, a crank seized Winston’s ankle and made him fall flat on the ground, and he screamed as he was dragged. He held onto the door, crying out for help. Minho and Thomas tried keeping the door from opening and letting all the cranks follow them through while Newt and Fry pulled him away but a crank digged his nails into his stomach and scratched him very deeply. Thomas then urged everyone to go right away, holding the door on his own before and the moment he left his post, the cranks started storming through the door. The group reached a non-lit area and hid in silence under large rubbles, listening to the snarling of the cranks as they ran past, just looking at each other, shushing and making sure their flashlights were turned off, holding their breath.

Grace opened her eyes, kind of waking up with a start when Thomas started yelling at a crow picking at stuff hanging out of one of their bags. They had spent the night in their hiding spots and now realized they weren’t in the building’s ruins anymore; they were literally outside. Grace rubbed her eyes, and imitated Thomas as he looked around, but she remained seated next to Teresa still lying down, while he got on his feet.

“Are they gone?” Newt inquired, leaning on his elbow.

“Yeah, I think we’re safe for now.” He picked up his bag. “Okay, we should get moving. Let’s pack it up. Aris, come on. Fry, Winston, let’s go.” Grace stood up, giving a hand to a still sleepy Teresa who was just emerging out of her sleep, and she helped her up. They then climbed up the rubbles and looked in the distance to the city expanding in front of them, hundreds of skyscrapers in ruins, just decaying there. They kept walking, crossing the remains of the past.

“What the hell happened to this place?” Fry wondered.

“I don’t know.” Newt replied. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a long time. I hope the whole world’s not like this.”

“Whoaa, hang on, stop.” Thomas spoke and they all turned to him. “You hear that?” Everyone listened carefully, pricking up their ears and the sound of a whirring aircraft reached their ears as it got louder and closer. “Get down! Everybody hide! Hide! Get in there. Here!”  They all crouched down and hid beneath the rubbles and watched an aircraft along with two helicopters passing over their heads.

“They’re never gonna stop looking for us, are they?” Minho wondered in a sigh as they slowly got out of hiding, resuming their walk across the ruined city. It took them a good few hours to climb up and down the high and large piles of rubbles and they walked up a dune, their feet sinking in the sand, Thomas encouraging them to keep going. Once they reached the top, they could see even more ruins just stretching before their eyes but in the distance, far ahead of them were the mountains they wanted to reach. They were all exhausted, burning up under the sun.

“Those mountains, that’s gotta be it.” He pointed in front of him. “That’s where we’re going.”

“That’s a long way off.” Newt said.

“Then we better get moving.” Right after he finished talking, Winston let go of his bag, took a step forward and fell to the ground. They all rushed, kneeling around him and he gasped continuously, his eyes closed. The bandage they put around his stomach was soaked in dark blood.

“What do we do?” Teresa inquired, watching Thomas stand up as he looked towards the mountains, thinking while Newt tried talking to Winston but got no response from him. They made a makeshift stretcher with stuff they had taken from the building and branches they gathered and Minho and Siggy dragged him across the desert, breathing heavily and grunting at the effort. After a while, the wind picked up, blowing sand in their faces as they tried to shield themselves with their hands and some clothing they had scavenged, coughing loudly. They eventually found shelter and settled there, and the wind died down as well. Teresa and Grace were sat down near Winston, watching his chest frantically. He was doing worse since they escaped from the horde of cranks. When Teresa stood up, Grace looked at her and observed her take a few steps in Thomas’ direction before following her. It was certainly the time for her to discuss with Thomas about what happened with WICKED, and this whole conversation about their blood that still bothered her.

“It’s like they’re getting further away.” Teresa observed, staring at the mountains.

“We just gotta keep moving. We can make it.”

“How’s it looking?” Newt’s voice echoed from their shelter and Thomas glanced at him.

“It’s a little further.” He then brought his gaze to Teresa again and noticed she was holding the back of her neck with her hand. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“They did something to me.” She grabbed her hair swept it to the side, benting her head forward. Thomas frowned in concern and stepped towards her, taking a look at her neck and so did Grace. There were strange drawings. Thomas shared a wondering glance with his sister, listening to Teresa talking. “At first it just felt like I was waking up from a dream or something. Then they all started coming back.”

“Your memories?” Grace asked, voicing the question both her and Thomas had, and she nodded.

“What do you remember?”

“I remember the first time they brought you two in.” She had a soft smile on her face. “I was taller than you then. And faster.”

“Okay.” He chuckled.

“And I remember why we were there. We thought we could fix all this.” She paused, her gaze losing itself into space and she closed her eyes for an instant before looking at Thomas and Grace again. “I think we should go back.”

“What?” Grace reacted, frowning.

“Just… Just listen to me.”

“What are you talking about? Go back?” He cut her off. “After everything they’ve done to us.”

“It’s not that simple.” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I think it is that simple.” Thomas retorted and Teresa kept insisting, trying to convince them of the opposite.

“No, you don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?” He motioned at Grace and him. “What don’t we understand?”

“Everything was fine until you…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

“Teresa, what aren’t you telling me?” Before she could answer his question, they heard a gunshot coming from the group and one of them yelling. Newt called out to them, and Thomas, Grace and Teresa ran back to them instantly. They put aside the conversation they just had and arrived. Everyone was confused and all over the place.

“What happened?” Teresa inquired.

“I don’t know.” Siggy shrugged. “He just woke up and grabbed the gun and then he tried to…”

“Give it back, please.” Winston begged, on his knees. Thomas took a step towards him when he suddenly threw up, coughing hard. He fell backwards and as he breathed with difficulty, he pulled up his shirt, looking down. “It’s growing… inside me.” His whole chest was getting kind of raw and blackening, the flesh very red and prominent veins. It was honestly pretty gross, and they all felt for him, shocked at the sight. “I’m not gonna make it. Please… please. Don’t let me turn into one of those things.” Newt took the gun from Siggy and softly put it in Winston’s hand. “Thank you. Now, get outta here.”

“Goodbye, Winston.” Newt stood up and walked away, his face down. Each of them said their goodbyes and Teresa, Thomas and Grace glanced at each other in this heavy and emotional silence. Grace went to follow the others when she noticed her brother wasn’t moving an inch, unable to take his eyes off his dying friend and with tears in his eyes, he apologized for leaving him in this condition and picked up his bag. As he was about to leave with Grace, Winston called out his name one last time, to ask him to take care of all of them. Grace watched the two, biting her lips and wiping away a tear that beaded in the corner of her eye. Thomas nodded and the two siblings followed their friends across the dunes, in silence when suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the desert and they came to a halt at the sound.

[To be continued…]  

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Published (10/17/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[justinewt]

Meet Grace - THE MAZE RUNNER OC

[THE MAZE RUNNER REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Do not use my character without my consent thanks <3

warning: MOST arts and pictures you’ll see are not mine (I found edits on pinterest usually) and the person used to portray Grace is actress Astrid Bergès-Frisbey. Grace is a character 100% created by me, Andrea but the style of the bio has been inspired by The Maze Runner Wiki and an Amino community bio template. I base my whole work on the movies made by Wes Ball, NOT THE BOOKS but maybe some descriptions and some stuff will be more book accurate than movie accurate idk. (NB : the second picture is originally Lily Collins who is with Dylan, I used a face swapp app to put Astrid’s face instead)

And PLEASE, you are all very beautiful as you are, DO NOT feel bad about my character’s body/weight/height/measurements or anything, keep in mind that she’s fictional and that every body is beautiful and unique !! And you are all beautiful real human beings <3

words: ~940

Some minor spoilers regarding the fanfic (obviously lmao)

GRACE bio by me

PROPERTY OF WICKED. GROUP B, SUBJECT B2. The Pacesetter.

INFORMATIONS

NICKNAMES/ALIASES : Gray

                                        Gracie 

                                        Grace Hopper (Computer Scientist after whom she’s named)

                                         Loudmouth (by Gally)

                                         Slender (by Gally)

                                         Subject B2

DATE OF BIRTH: Unknown

AGE : about 16-17 (first movie) to 19 (last movie)

OCCUPATION : Creator of the Maze Runner (formerly)

                           Member of the Gladers

                           Runner (formerly)

AFFILIATIONS : WICKED (formerly)

                           The glade (formerly)

GENDER : Female      

SEXUALITY : Lesbian

HAIR COLOR : Warm brown

EYE COLOR : Green

SKIN COLOR : Light

SPECIES : Human

NATIONALITY : American

IMMUNITY STATUS : Immune

FATE : Alive (otherwise there wouldn’t be a fic lmao but see if she survives haha)

POSITION IN THE GLADE : Runner

RELATIONSHIP STATUS : As of the start of the fic, she’s single and not crushing on anyone

RESIDENCE : WICKED labs (formerly)

                        The Glade (formerly)

FAMILY 

PARENTS : Both her parents are dead, she doesn’t remember them or their names. She has a single memory of her mother when she starts getting her memory back (this is a memory she shares with Thomas as they both got this flashback during their days in the glade but at different times)

BEST FRIENDS : Newt and Thomas

SIBLINGS : Thomas, alive – younger twin brother

PARTNERS : She never had any romantic relationship before getting out of the maze (when being surrounded by all those boys etc she realizes she’s a lesbian – which she had forgotten about herself, because of the memory loss caused by WICKED, this is one of the first things she remembers)

read the fic to know if she gets a girlfriend...

CHILDREN : None

OTHER : Alby – Acquaintance

               Gally – Enemy... ?

               Minho – Friend, but not as close as she is with Newt

               Teresa – Friend, until second movie then she just dislikes her, plain and simple but she isn’t happy to see her die

read the fic and find out how her relationships evolve ;)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Grace is told by Newt that she looks young, she figures she must be around 16 or 17 years old. She is a couple inches shorter than Thomas and Newt, who are around 5′9″ themselves, so it means she is rather tall, probably around 5′7″. Although she and Thomas have many features in common such as green eyes and brown hair, her heart-shaped lips and square jaw set her apart from her brother. Despite strong features, her face still has an elegant dimension to it. She doesn’t look harsh and has a radiant smile, showing small dimples. She looks sweet and charming and is aware of it. She takes advantage of her looks to lie because somehow, no one would ever think such an angelic looking gal wouldn’t be the most honest person on earth. 

Since she is quite tall, she is skinny and has quite long and thin arms and legs. Her rather long limbs notably gave the idea of a nickname Gally gave her. She agrees that she looks “slender” and plays along with it. 

PERSONNALITY

Out of her and her brother, Grace was the quiet one, but quiet doesn’t necessarily mean shy. On the contrary, her brother was the timid one. Grace grew up believing that what she was told to do was the right thing and that this served a purpose. She was an honest, mindful and witty person, quite transparent, like an open book. But when she found out about the real motivations of WCKED, she built up a mask behind which she started lying and became deceiptive. Making them believe they could see right throught her to protect her real thoughts.

She acted like she was still the nice and obedient little girl they had groomed over the years into doing this awful work but in reality, she was stabbing them in the back and they were so confident, so full of themselves that they never felt the blades. Pretending had came so naturally to her, she got scared she was a fake person, someone bad, but she wasn’t. She was just a good liar, and it didn’t mean anything deep. She seemed so innocent that she used what people thought of her against them. She is someone that would take advantage of this kind of situation, to stab them in the back more easily since they would never suspect her to do such a thing. She was quiet, but a burning fire raged inside of her and would sometimes melt the ice of her frozen armor. It was rare that she was defying but not impossible, sometimes the mask would let the truth out and reveal a part of her she kept for herself.

This was because of WCKED that she had learned to keep everything inside and lie as much as she could. She lied to stay a few steps ahead of them at all times and this survival mode was rather consuming. She abandonned it when they got out, learning to be who she wanted to be, finding herself in the ashes they had left of her and the world. They hadn’t changed her completely, she was a quiet and observing person but the deceiving part was their fault. And in the end, she found that being able to lie and play pretend could be useful in certain times. But it wasn’t her, it was a tool she disguised as part of her personnality so as not to let anyone know that she was lying to them. If they hought she really meant/thought what she said, they would never suspect the truth, and it was safer. But she was also strong, a survivor, just like her brother and their friends.

[THE MAZE RUNNER REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Published (01/29/2022) by Andrea

[justinewt]

Twin Flames - TMR REWRITE Chapter Four

[THE MAZE RUNNER MASTERLIST]

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Summary: With Minho and Newt on their side and Teresa now very much awake, Thomas and Grace had each other’s back through the rollercoster they had been pushed on. It took a night talk by the dim light of a torch, for the two of them to open their hearts...

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: The Maze Runner 2014 spoilers (first movie), Twin Flames aren’t necessarely romantic lol, little excursion in the Maze, brief description of a crushed Griever, Grace’s nose’s still very much broken lol it’s only been a few days but no mention of it this chapter, chat with Teresa, Alby’s critical state, Gally’s a dickhead but you already knew that, fluff (non romantic), some cuteness 

Behind the Map Room, Grace walked back and forth as her brother leaned against the wall of the circular construction made of branches attached to each other. He was fidgeting with his fingers, looking around somewhat nervously and when they heard footsteps coming their way, the two turned around and watched Minho, followed by Frypan, Winston and Zart, approach them.

“Will this be enough?” Minho asked, looking at Thomas and Grace. Thomas softly nodded and glanced at the three others beside the Runners’ keeper.

“Okay. Let’s go.” The small team of Gladers ready to go out into the Maze ran towards the openings in the immense stone walls surrounding the Glade. Jogging in a line, with Minho, Grace and Thomas at the head of the group, they reached the corridor where Thomas had put down one of the Grievers that attacked them the night, they were trapped in with Alby to protect. The three others running behind them had a hard time keeping up but they managed nevertheless and when Minho stopped running and walked to the Griever stuck in a wall, its legs stucking out like a nose in the middle of a face, they followed, probably happy that they could take a break from running around the Maze. Grace stared at this half machine half organic shit and was grossed out by the weird organs laying on the ground below the Griever’ crushed corpse.

“That’s disgusting.” Zart exclaimed, voicing her thought and she could only nod to this statement, wincing.

“Hey,” Thomas took a step-in front of it, observing something on it. “there’s something in there.”

“You mean besides a Griever pancake?” Frypan wondered. Grace narrowed her eyes and stepped beside Thomas after she indeed noticed something, a small flashing point of red light. Minho and Thomas exchanged a glance and the Runner walked over to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” The garderners’ keeper freaked out, not knowing what was on Minho’s mind for getting so close all of a sudden. He stretched out his arm and reached in the wall to grab whatever was making this point of light in the dark when the Griever suddenly moved with a loud mechanic noise and the boys including Grace stepped back with a start, letting out a yell of surprise.

“I thought you said it was dead.” Frypan complained after this little scarce.

“Was it reflex?”

“You hope.” Winston retorted, glancing at Zart.

“Okay, come on, let’s try and pull it out.” Thomas then decided and he motioned to the others to help him pull one leg out of the wall. “All right, let’s go. Everyone get a hand on it. Come on.” Once everyone was around, grabbing the machine, he glanced at them. “All right, ready? On three. One, two three.” They grunted, lifting the leg up and after a second of pulling on it, they successfully ripped out of the Griever and let it fall on the ground. Grace heard a bipping sound and watched Minho walk over to the organs lying there and grabbed one, bringing it to eye level. He pulled a metal cylinder out of the flesh and stared at it.

“What the hell is that?” Thomas inquired.

“Interesting.” He mumbled, observing what was in his hands.

“Okay, whatever it is, can we take this up back at the Glade?” Frypan requested. “Because I don’t wanna meet this guy’s friends.”

“He’s right. It’s getting late.” Minho admitted. “Come on.”

***

“Yeah, we found this. It was inside a Griever.” Thomas informed Newt as he manipulated the cylinder in his hands, examining it carefully.

“These are the same letters we get on our supplies.” He stated. Grace swallowed harshly, thinking about the four letters Newt was referring to. WCKD. The same combination of letters written on the piece of paper Grace found in her pants’ pocket, along a couple name and a brief message from Thomas but of course, if she brought it up to him, he wouldn’t remember as they seemed to all have their mind and memory wiped clean before coming up to the Glade in the box. These letters were known to the Gladers and Grace had previously theorized that this could be the name of whoever sent them here and put them through all this but of course, she hadn’t told anyone, not even Thomas yet as she didn’t know what it could really be but their discovery in the Maze was only enforcing the idea that this WCKD thing was behind everything. All of it would be made up? It was an insane thought.

“Whoever put us here obviously made the Grievers.” Thomas declared. “And this is the first real clue, the first anything you’ve found in over three years, right, Minho?”

“Right.”

“Newt, we gotta go back out there.” Alby’s second lifted his head back up and looked at Thomas. “Who knows where this might lead us?” There was a silence that installed itself as Newt glanced at Gally who was obviously not a huge fan of everything that was happening, and he stared at Newt.

“You see what he’s trying to do, right? First he breaks our rules and then he tried to convince us to abandon them totally. The rules are the only thing that have ever held us together. Why now are we questioning that?” He paused for a second. “If Alby was here, you know he’d agree with me. This shank needs to be punished.”

“You’re right.” Newt handed the cylinder to Minho, slowly speaking up in turn. “Thomas broke the rules. One night in the pit and no food.”

“Oh, come on, Newt.” Gally raised his voice suddenly not content with the sentence. “One night in the pit? You think that’s gonna stop him from going into the Maze?”

“No.” He retorted. “And we can’t just have non-Runners running into the Maze whenever they feel like it. So let’s just make this official. Starting from tomorrow, you’re a Runner.”

“Wow.” Gally shook his head and stormed out of the council room.

“Thanks, Newt.” Thomas said, quietly. Grace smiled, happy to be joined by her brother and she patted him on the shoulder. Newt glanced at him but remained silent, his arms crossed over his chest and eventually they left the council room and Minho and Grace led Thomas into the forest in the Glade. Really, Grace just came along and she knew where they were going, the Map Room, as she recognized the path they took through the woods. Thomas didn’t though and he asked them multiple times where they were going, obviously and understandably curious. While Thomas looked around, Minho pulled the sheet off the replica of the Maze on the table in the center of the room and he leaned on the edge, looking down at it with a heavy sigh.

“It’s the Maze.” He told Thomas. “All of it.”

“What do you mean, “all of it”? I thought you were still mapping it.”

“There’s nothing left to map. I’ve run every inch of it myself. Every circle, every pattern.” He passed his eyes over the model. “If there was a way out, we would have it by now.”

“I saw something strange yesterday when I ran the Maze.” Minho raised his gaze up to Grace. “You’ve probably already mapped it, but there was a corridor that led me from one section to another at the opposite side of the Maze.”

“Show me.” She then proceeded to point out the section she went first, and showed all the way to the one she landed in. The boys watched the motion of her hand in silence and when she was done, Thomas spoke up, full of questions about it all.

“Why haven’t you told anyone you were done?”

“It was Alby’s call.” Minho straightened up and walked around the table. “People needed to believe we had a chance of getting out. But maybe now, we have a real chance.” He gave the metallic cylinder they found in the Griever to Thomas. “Take a look at this. About a year ago, we started exploring these outer sections. All right, we found these numbers printed on the walls. Sections 1 through 8. See, the way it works is every night when the Maze changes it opens up a new section. So today section 6 was open. Tomorrow it’ll be 4, then 8, then 3. The pattern always stays the same.”

“What’s so special about 7?” Thomas wondered, rubbing the number on the cylinder with his thumb.

“I don’t know.” Minho walked past Thomas and Grace and went to her left. “But last night, when you killed that Griever, Section 7 was open. I think it must be where it comes from. Tomorrow you and I are gonna take a closer look. Grace… I guess I can’t keep you from coming, you’re fine now.”

“Why thank you.” She nodded, touching the dressing still across her nose. It didn’t hurt much, especially if she let it alone, but she felt it was healing. She would probably have her nose bridge a little crooked after breaking it but it would be fine and the bruises around it and under the corner of her eyes would fade and it gave her such a survivor look. All three of them turned around suddenly when they heard people run to the entrance of the Map Room. It was the two Medjacks and they looked quite panicked.

“Hey, what are you guys doing? You’re not allowed in here.” Minho declared.

“Sorry, it’s just the, um…” Jeff articulated, out of breath.

“It’s the girl.” Clint said.

“What, is she awake?” Thomas inquired.

“You could say that.” They ran out of the woods and slowed down as they reached Chuck standing there, bursting in laughter.

“Chuck, what’s going on?”

“Girls are awesome.” He replied to Thomas, laughing some more, pointing at the watchtower built around the tree. The one Alby took Grace on the day she came up in the Box. Boys were gathered in front of it, protecting themselves with makeshift shields as she threw a bunch of rocks at them, yelling at them. Thomas and Grace ran to them, ducking to avoid being hit on the head by the projectiles.

“What happened?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t think she likes us very much.” Newt assumed.

“Hey, we just wanna talk.” Thomas rose his voice in the crowd.

“I’m warning you.” The girl declared, hiding on the top floor of the tree tower.

“Hey, hey, whoa, it’s Thomas. It’s Thomas.” He yelled after another wave of her throwing pebbles at them. “It’s Thomas and Grace.” There was a silence and after a moment, she peaked down to look and they saw the top of her head appear as she glared at the two before stepping back again. “Okay, we’re gonna come up, okay? Okay…” He looked at Gally when he took a step forward along them. “Just us.”

Grace gave a look at Gally as she followed her brother up the tower, telling the girl above them as they climbed the ladders. Grace was about to climb up the last one when Thomas stopped on it. She looked up and heard him trying to calm the girl down.

“Where am I? What is this place? Why can’t I remember anything?” She asked, almost angry. Once he freed the way, she climbed up after him and joined him and the new girl who stared at her, watching her every move, on the defensive and she then put her eyes back on Thomas.

“This is all normal, okay? We’ve all been through this. Okay? Your name, that’ll come back to you in a couple days. It’s like the one thing that—”

“Teresa.” Grace spoke at the same time as her and the two others looked at her. It had been as if she already knew who this girl was and in truth, she didn’t but she didn’t really think either before speaking, it just left her lips instinctively. “Why do you know my name?”

“I don’t know.” Grace shook her head, confused as well. Thomas gave her a brief look before bringing his attention back on the other girl.

“Uh, okay. All right, Teresa, I’m Thomas and she’s Grace.” He then introduced quietly. “But you already knew that, though, I guess, huh?”

“They said I kept saying your names in my sleep. Especially yours.” She told Thomas. She seemed confused as to all of this but this wasn’t so strange in the end. They were all a bit lost when they came up in the Glade. “Who are you?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas articulated for he and his sister as if they were only one. And in any case, she wasn’t sure how to answer that question either. She knew her name, but she didn’t know much about herself overall. “I— I can’t remember, okay? None of us… None of us here can remember anything. We all woke up here, just like you did. Hey, I promise, we’re…” Taking a carefull step towards her, he very slowly wrapped his fingers around the blade of the machete, his eyes going back and forth from the weapon to her, and she let go of it. “I’m gonna take this… Okay.”

“What’s going on up there?” Gally inquired from the ground. Thomas and Grace exchanged a look upon hearing his voice and they stood up and leaned on the railing, looking down at the boys.

“Is she coming down?” Newt wondered, his hands to his hips.

“Um…” Thomas glanced back at Teresa, still sitting on the floor and turned back to everyone below, fidgeting with the tip of the machete. “Hey, listen, you guys give us a second, okay?”

“All right. Come on.” Newt motioned for everyone around them to move away and with a sigh and annoyed face, Gally eventually followed.

***

“ “She’s the last one.” What does that mean?” Teresa wondered as all three of them sat along the edge, their legs hanging in the void.

“I’m not sure.” Thomas replied. “Ever since you came up, that Box hasn’t gone back down. You know, and I just think it’s got everyone a little worried. Especially Gally.” They looked toward the small body of water near the woods and there was he standing, his arms crossed, looking toward the tower. Grace waved at him with a smirk that quickly faded from her face. She looked into the void and thought of the paper on which she had seen both of Thomas and Teresa’s names and this message that had seemingly been written by Thomas himself and hidden in her jacket prior to being put into the Box. When Teresa said her name, she knew it instantly and she had hesitated to say that it was because she had seen her name before and had speculated that it was hers after seeing her in the box. She put the thought in a corner of her mind and looked at Teresa.

“He thinks it’s my fault.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?” Thomas asked her again.

“I remember water. Feeling like I was drowning. These faces staring at me. And this voice, this woman’s voice saying the same thing over and over.”

“Wicked is good.” Thomas and Grace said simultaneously. They had all shared this memory of this woman repeating these three words. Teresa slightly widened her eyes and looked at the both of them. “Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve had these dreams. Well, I thought they were dreams. You… You were there. You were there, and you told me that everything was gonna change.”

“What does it mean?” Teresa wondered. Grace observed them and listened, staying silent. She had had a bunch of dreams that weren’t so much dreams in the end but she hadn’t seen Teresa or maybe but she remembered mostly seeing Thomas everytime, and this blond woman.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I just always get pieces.”

“And the others don’t remember anything?”

“No.” He looked at Grace because despite her silence and self-erasure from the conversation, he thought of her, because in truth, he cared. The look in his eyes said it all, he wanted to know if she remembered something like him and Teresa.

“I’ve had some dreams, too.” She eventually confessed. “But I don’t remember seeing you, Teresa, only… well, mostly, Thomas and this woman saying “WCKD is good”. But, I’m sure we knew each other, before…”

“Grace.” He said her name, softly and she looked up at him. “How did you know her name before she even said it?”

“It’s true, when I said, “I don’t know” because I don’t know how I just knew it was her name, specifically but… after I came up, I found this paper in my pocket.” She pulled out the folded piece of paper from her jacket’s pocket and unfolded it before handing it to Thomas. Tereas got closer to take a look and they both saw they names and Wicked written on it. “I knew you’d come up, Thomas.”

“What do you mean?” He wondered, frowning slightly.

“It was the night of the welcome party of the day I came up. The fire showed me a message written on it. A message… from you, telling me that you were coming, that you weren’t going to let me alone or something…”

“A message from me?” He was confused and more asking this to himself than to Grace, really. He took a few seconds of silent, looking down, thinking. “Why are we different?”

“These were in my pocket when I came up.” She handed two tubes containing some sort of blue liquid to Thomas. The same letters they found on the cylinder in the Griever were on the vials. WCKD.

“Wicked is good.” He mumbled after seeing the letters.

“What if we were sent here for a reason?” Grace discreetly shook her head, thinking. Maybe Teresa and Thomas had been sent for a reason but from her dreams and what she had assumed, she sent herself up here for whatever reason.

“Alby.” Thomas exclaimed, glancing at the two girls beside him. They rushed down the tower, following Thomas to the infirmary where thy met up with Newt and the two medjacks around Alby agonizing on his bed, his veins turning black.

“We don’t even know what this is.” Newt argued, unsure about Thomas’ idea. “We don’t know who srnt it or why it came up here with you. I mean, for all we know, this thing could kill him.”

“He’s already dying.” Thomas retorted, pointing at Alby with his hand. “Look at him. How could this possibly make it any worse? Come on, it’s worth a try.”

“All right.” He then handed the vial to Thomas, and he took it. “Do it.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, leaning over Alby, the tube held tightly in his hand. The second he turned his head to Alby, the latter suddenly grabbed him, pulling him down. “Whoa!”

“You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.” He feverishly repeated over and over again, even glancing at Grace with his eyes wide open. “No!”

“Watch out.” Newt and Grace rushed at Thomas side to help him off of Alby who was grunting, struggling against the medjacks helding his arms down.

“Get the syringe. Go.” Quickly, Thomas gave it to Teresa who stabbed it in Alby chest and released the liquid into his changing body. He suddenly stopped moving, Newt, Thomas and Grace taking a step back, staring at Alby as he went quiet.

“Well, that worked.” Jeff noted.

“Okay, from now on, someone stays here and watches him around the clock.” Newt ordered anxiously.

“Hey.” They all turned their heads to look behind when Gally’s voice rose from the doorway. He was for some reason, much less aggressive than when they discussed Thomas’ punishment from going into the Maze yesterday. “Sundown, Greenie. Time to go.”

***

Grace walked across the Glade, a torch in her hand. She was heading for the little prison cells digged directly in the dirt where her brother was right now. She wanted to talk to him since she was unable to fall asleep at the moment and as she walked there, she saw Chuck holding a lit torch as well and walking away.

“Hey.”

“Grace?” He got closer to the wooden grid as if to check it was really her and obviously it was and she sat down on the grass, hanging the torch on the jail’s door. There was a rather brief silence before Grace said something as she was thinking, gathering her words.

“Did you see me in your flashbacks?” She wondered softly and he just nodded in the dark, his face partially illuminated by the flickering orange flame of the torch. When she spoke up again, Thomas just looked at her with attention, listening to what she had to say carefully. “The first thing I remembered when I came up here was something from when I was younger. I don’t remember how long it was, honestly… I was hugging this kind woman and she… she felt so familiar, she was kneeling in the snow, and there was a little boy exactly my age, hugging her as well. It was my brother. Then, you were here and I just… I don’t know. I didn’t know what to think, it took me a moment to admit to myself, it was you. Like you said in the message, you came. You didn’t leave me…”

“I didn’t know what to think either, when I saw you…” He added. “I thought you weren’t even real for a second. Then, I saw you over and over again in my dreams. I wasn’t sure you remembered me too until you hugged me.

“When you came back from the Maze, yeah…” She bit her lips, nodding. “I waited for you all night long. I slept in front of the Maze’s doors.”

“Okay.” He smiled, amused at her dedication. “You knew I was your brother?”

“Yes, but like you thought, I didn’t know if you remembered me but when you went into the Maze and the doors closed, I was just so scared, all night and so, when you came out, I was just relieved. When I went to hug you, I don’t know, I just felt like you knew…” She told him, glancing at him anxiously, waiting for his reply.

“I think I did by then. I knew you were my sister.” Grace and him stared at each other and they held hands through the wooden grid of the cell. They didn’t have their mother anymore, and they didn’t remembered her that much but they had found each other again and it was what was important.

[To be continued…]  

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Published (04/18/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[justinewt]

Fateful Encounter - TMR REWRITE Chapter Two

[THE MAZE RUNNER MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Grace had found her place in the Glade, among her peers. Whether or not she was here by mistake, she had to fit in and wait for this Thomas to come up. She let a nice routine set in, waking up early, trying out a job until a Keeper would want her, and chilling before going to sleep. It wasn’t so bad, really if it wasn’t for Gally who kept nitpicking for her. She had made a friend out of Newt but she wasn’t getting along with the Builders’ keeper.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: The Maze Runner spoilers, description of a breakdown, injuries, bloody knuckles, flashbacks, nightmares, angst, fight w/ Gally bc he’s a dickhead in the first movie, insults, Alby the peacemaker comes to the rescue lmao, tensions, mention of Grievers, 

Grace stood there in front of the mirror of the bathroom, staring at her reflection, her face looking distorted by the uncontrollable crying that shook her body. She couldn’t calm down. She had this deep feeling of despair, knotting her stomach, making her feel heavy and hopeless, she gritted her teeth so hard her jaw hurt but she couldn’t do anything about it. She let out a moan, burying her face in the palms of her hands. She was so done with all of this, she turned to the mirror and out of nowhere, punched it, breaking it into pieces, her knuckles-soaked red. She watched the blood ran down her fingers, trembling, now panicking over how badly she had injured herself. Tiny pieces of glass were planted in her skin. She took multiple breaths, breathing out forcefully when she heard a voice call her name from the door and she woke up with a start, thinking she had screamed but seeing no one was around she figured it didn’t happen. If she had screamed at random, someone would have come to check on her. Sweating, she lied back down in her hammock and tried to calm down before standing up and putting on her shoes.

As she laced up her boots, she thought about the tragic and traumatic thing she saw in her sleep. It was her having a hell of a panick attacks. She looked down at the hand she saw herself hitting the mirror with and you couldn’t really see any scar but if you looked really closely, there were irregular lines that shouldn’t be there. She shrugged it off, taking a deep breath and stood up. If this breakdown really happened, she must have been at a point in her life where she only thought about ending it, which gave her goosebumps, shivers running through her spine. She had no idea what happened prior that led her to this low point but something else that made her actively think was the voice she heard before waking up. It sounded like a familiar voice, but she couldn’t quite figure out who it was. She sighed, stroking her face, and trying not to dwell onto this she walked to where the builders were. Today she was to go work with them so Gally would decide if he wanted her or not, she didn’t hope, she knew he wouldn’t. The two of them had definitely started on the wrong foot but Gally was such a jackass, acting like an asshole with her, she fought her urge to punch his face because she didn’t want to get in trouble with Alby and get sent to the hole. With Newt by her side, she managed to keep her hands away from him and do think about something else, but it was hard. Gally made it really fucking hard.

“Are you feeling all right? Okay?” She heard Newt’s voice raising from the crops as she walked by and noticed she was shivering when the sun was out up in the sky and she must have looked livid, like she had seen a ghost.

“Just… a nightmare.” She lied. “That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He was definitely not having it but upon seeing her insisting everything was good, he let it go, keeping an eye on her as she walked toward the Builders to meet up with Gally. Less than a week ago she had been alongside Newt planting and harvesting fruits and vegetables and despite her curiosity making it awkward for her, it was a good time. Every single other job she tried out so far, she didn’t like very much. Alby told her the newbies had to test out at least 9 of the dozen of jobs existing in the Glade and she had tried about 7 of them but her obsession was to become a Runner, to go out into the Maze and explore it for an exit but as Minho had all the Runners he needed at the time, she couldn’t possibly join them without killing one of them and she wouldn’t go as far, she would wait for them to die on their own. She laughed at the thought, making her face shine with the amused smile that stretched out her lips. When the face of Gally entered her sight, her smile was gone and she crossed her arms, over it already. After all, it wasn’t like he would choose her to join them anyway, but he might just to mess with her. She hoped he wouldn’t go so far and disliked her enough not to want her with him and his crew.

“Greenie.” He said with a forced enthusiasm that made her cringe.

“I told you my name’s Grace, rat face.” She mumbled the insult as it came out almost as a sigh.

“We’re good, Grace.” He assured even though she wasn’t so convinced about that statement. She just sigh and followed him around as he gave her some directions. She evn thought that she could have ran around the Glade twice at full speed she wouldn’t have been as tired but at the same time, Gally was playing with her, making her carry the heaviest, cumbersome stuff he could find and she despised him even more for it. He knew he wasn’t going to pick her so he tried to get her exhausted. She clearly preferred the job of Garderner over Builder’s, way more chill and there was Newt she could chat with. Moreover, Zart, their keeper, was nothing like the dickhead Gally was all the time. After a while, she sat down to catch her breath, but Gally crouched in front of her.

“Come on, get up, loafer.”

“Are you for real right now, Gally?” He nodded, seemingly serious and she stood up, grabbing something heavy she was carrying before taking a break and she pretended stumbling over whatever was on her way and fell over Gally with what she held in her arms. He grunted and she rolled to the side, acting like this wasn’t on purpose.

“You’re so done.” He grumbled as he got back on his feet. He tried to grab her by the arm, probably to drag her to Alby right away but she dodged his hand and started running away from him, distancing him from over a dozen feet while he ran after her, trying to get her. She was already so tired but she wasn’t going to let him reach her. She reached thegarden and bent over, she jogged around the crops. She snatched a tomato, smiling at Newt like to say “sorry”. Zart and Newt watched Grace ran away again, chased by Gally. Newt shook his head, chuckling before getting back to what he was doing. Grace suddenly sprinted to gain speed and she jumped, the sole of her feet against the bark of a tree, bouncing up and lifting herself up over the branches, out of Gally’s reach.

“Just go away! You weren’t even going to choose me, just wanted me to be exhausted.” She yelled at him.

“Get down.” He ordered but she wasn’t moving from her perch. As they started a staring contest of some sort, she saw drom the corner of her eyes, Alby walking up to them behind Zart. He seemed like he wasn’t going to be so patient with her right now.

“Grace, I want you down now, why are you in a fucking tree?” He inquired. “Grace, Gally. I want an explanation.”

“I wanted to take a break and he just came up at me mocking me for being tired and he just called me names. I got up, took what I was carrying back in my arms cause I wasn’t in the mood for fighting with him and I fell over him with the heavy box. It was just an accident but he threatened me !” She complained, acting up so Alby would see her as the victim and only reprimand Gally for his behavior, and it was what it was. She didn’t initiate anything. Gally was the one who forced her to go back to work when she was too tired to keep doing it and accident happens, just sometimes you help them happen to get out of a certain situation… that’s all.

“She disrespected me, Alby.” He argued.

“I’m not gonna respect you if you keep acting like a jackass, that’s for sure, Gally.”

“Stop, the two of you.” He took a breath, annoyed. “The Builders aren’t a match. Newt spoke to Zart on your behalf, and he agreed to take you in as a Garderner, Grace. You, and Gally, keep your distances if you can’t behave with one another.”

She watched him walk away as he was approached by Minho, the Runners’ keeper who was seemingly not out exploring at the moment. He talked with the one in command, glancing at Grace every now and then which made her think they were talking about her for sme reason but while her mind made up even more questions, she followed Zart to the crops and got her hands in the dirt.

“You caught Minho’s attention.” Newt declared as he was cutting a growth off a plant.

“So what?” She shrugged, pretending she didn’t care about becoming a Runner anymore and Newt stared at her, wondering why the sudden change.

“I thought you wanted to be a Runner.”

“I do, but…” She cut herself off, mentally arguing whether or not she was going to tell him why she felt so patient with all this now, knowing that help was on their way, for the better and the worse she thought but she decided against saying it and just shook her head. “I’m gonna give it some time. If Minho’s interest in me becoming a Runner, he’ll come to me. Like you said at the party, I’m not going to walk up to him, asking.”

The days that followed were much more rhythmic, as soon as Grace woke up in the early morning, she did some stretching before going to help the Gardeners to bring manure to the plantations, often a lot of buckets, quite substantial. At noon, when the sun was at its zenith, everyone went to eat around the campfire then extinguished and discuss. Grace often spoke with Newt who agreed to spend his meals with her and was very pleasant company, and then they seemed to get along well. Then, to start the afternoon, Grace would mostly run chickens or pigs, which she would then bring to Winston and the other slicers to tend to, although when I had to bring them, I always had a twinge in my heart. To thank her, Winston often gave her an extra serving of meat, and she noticed that she didn't seem to gain any weight. She was eating enough but, given that she had been working out a lot on a daily basis since her arrival here, she told herself that she wouldn't gain much except muscle. She then left for a walk in the grove, taking a turn at the small cemetery in the woods or she walked along the walls of the block with a quiet step. She often found herself sore and at those times rested a little before taking a good shower at the end of the day. At the said end of the day, she dropped back into her hammock hastily.

“I am tired.” She stated, pressing each word, lying across her hammock, her head hanging in the void. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the hammock swing back and forth, her feet on the ground giving the pace. She yawned and lied down to her full length after taking of her shoes, not even realizing she was about to fall asleep just now.

“Grace, you work with us. You can’t give up.” She heard a voice echo in her head and saw a woman with blond straight hair in a bun looking down at her as she sat in front of a computer with a bunch of datas moving around on the screen. She looked older than the first memory like this that she remembered in which she looked like a young child. The woman was on her way, but she turned around with a serious face but smiling at the girl. “Don’t forget, Grace. WCKD is good.”

“WCKD is good.” Grace mumbled, waking herself up from her very light sleep.

“What? You said something?” Chuck asked from his hammock, seemingly falling asleep as well.

“Uh, no, no… nothing.” She waved her hand around despite knowing that Chuck was curled up in his hammock, his back to her and wouldn’t see the motion of her hand but it was fine. She sighed quietly, pressing her fingers on her nose, closing her eyes shut. She was so tired by these memories, she wanted it to stop. She wanted to get either everything back or stop getting those flashes every now and then. It was getting tiring.

“Grace?” She rolled her head to the side upon hearing Chuck again, rhinking he was already asleep but he had turned in his hammock and was looking at her.

“Yeah? I thought you were already sleeping.”

“Do you remember your parents?” He asked, kind of out of the blue and she frowned briefly, thinking about it.

“Hum, I think I have a memory of my mom but like, not much.” She shrugged, staring above her. “I don’t remember my dad at all though, and I think I have a brother…”

“I don’t remember either of them.” He said with a sadness piercing through his voice.

“I think it’s for the best. If you remembered them, you would be even more affected by their absence, I guess. This woman, I remember her, her face, and I misses her so much but I don’t even remember if we were close or not… And my brother… It’s weird, I don’t know.” Thinking about the latter, she grabbed the paper in her pocket and unfolded it before her eyes, chewing on the inside of cheek, staring at the words and names on it.

“What is it?”

“Just, uh… I started to write names I remembered.” She lied, not really feeling like saying the true nature of the sheet of paper.

“What names do you remember?”

“I think… I think I wrote my brother’s name but, I’m not really sure it’s his. Probably not.” She glanced at him, putting the paper back in her pocket. “You should go back to sleep anyway, Chuck. Good night.” She rolled on her side, staring in the dark, letting out a heavy sigh. “I just hope you’re alive, Thomas.”

A few days later, Minho had admitted her among the Runners after one of them got injured and had to stop running so he needed replacement quickly and he had the perfect candidate. He briefed about how the Maze worked, he showed her the model they had made of it, which was like 99 percent done, and warned her about the dangers out there. Runners had to be extra careful of what he called the Grievers. Half-organic half-machine spider-looking beasts. She hadn’t crossed path with one for now and she wasn’t going to complain about it. Like spiders, they could sting you but their venom would for sure kill you by the end of the day or so. Grace looked down at the parchment on which she was maping the section to which Minho brought her today. To mentor her a little, she would go with him in his section when the one the Runner she replaced covered was closed as the walls of the Maze moved each night, changing placement.

“The walls moved but nothing we’ve not mapped before.” She said with a sigh.

“Yeah. We gotta get back anyway. We mustn’t get stuck. Let’s go.” He urged as he jogged away, followed by Grace almost instantly. She caught up with him and they ran back to the Glade. Upon arriving there, they looked at each other and started sprinting. She wasn’t as close to Minho as was to Newt but he became a friend and he was really cool.

“You’re getting slow, Minho.” She taunted.

“You’ll see if I’m getting slow, Greenie.” He sped up, eventually catching up with her. She looked at him and got distracted, tripping over her foot. She reached out to her peer and dragged him in her fall. “Next time you fall, don’t drag me with you.”

“Sure.” She chuckled as she got on her feet, dusting her clothes, her map rolled in one hand. She laughed lightly as she rolled her eyes and brushed back a few strands of hair that had escaped from behind her ears and her braid. Minho greeted her, grabbing his map as he left towards the map room with a few other runners joining them. She jogged to the plantations to meet up with Newt there. Seated on the grass near the crops, waiting for Newt as he went to get something, she observed the trees nearby and a little red light in the leaves caught her attention. She stood up but when she got where she thought she had seen it, it was gone but Newt was back, and his voice made her turn around.

“What are you looking at?” She glanced at the tree before walking to him, shrugging.

“Nothing. So, good day?”

“As usual. How was it with Minho?” He threw a fresh tomato at her and she took a bite with haste.

“Same as yesterday.” She shrugged, thinking about their little race afterwards. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re already eating.” He smiled and she followed him to the cook’s place as he brought them vegetables and stuff. The two of them then went around the fireplace to eat with everybody else. She played fights with some of the guys and despite not being as strong as some of them, she was fast and agile, so she always managed to win by making them fall or lose their balance when charging at her. The boys were cheering her up, yelling her name repeatedly. It was all fun and games at lunch which was amazing given the conditions in which they lived in the middle of this huge Maze they had to find a way out of. And Alby seemed content upon seeing that she fit in and got along with everyone and especially that there hadn’t been any other incident with Gally. He wasn’t so bad, but he was still a dickhead sometimes. She also learned that Minho was the only one allowed to back talk to Alby or order him things without getting his ass kicked.

It was quite warm today as she came back for the Maze after checking a section, map held in her fingers. She had glanced at the watch provided to each Runner and it was time for her to get back, she had covered every changes from last night to help seeing the pattern of the movement of the Maze’s walls. They had already mapped almost the entirity of the Maze. When Minho confessed this to her, she was a bit shocked, wondering how if they had finished it, they weren’t finding an exit but she knew it was easier to say than actually do. She jogged out of the opening to the inside of the Maze and she saw Chuck, waving at her as she approached. He was standing there alongside an older boy and she slowed down, starign at him. They were both looking intensely at each other. They knew each other, they could just feel it.

“Grace? You good?” She turned her head to Chuck, nodding after realizing she had stopped moving, just froze there.

“New Greenie, huh?” She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, he just arrived.”

“Okay.” She felt weird in front of this new face and while Chuck had a bright smile on his face, her and the newbie seemed unsettled by their encounter. She eventually left the two of them and went straight to the Map Room, feeling her heartbeat strongly in her chest. She checked the model, reviewing her map and after a while keeping herself busy, she went to take a cold shower, but she couldn’t take him out of her mind. He seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint why and it confused and bothered her. She felt like the answer to her wonders was just right here, who he was was somewhere in her mind but no matter how bad she tried to dig in her mind, she couldn’t find it. As the water flowed down her body, she remembered that the arrival of a new Greenie meant a party tonight and she arrived just in time, as the sun set in the sky, Gladers had lit up the bonfire already and were gathered around it. She took something to drink, briefly chatting with Minho. He was seated on a wooden stool, eating, and she took sips of her drink, leaning against a wall behind them. Minho wasn’t one to show his emotions much and he wasn’t cold either; he was just this way and he grew to appreciate her apparently because he joked and talked with her way more than before. Becoming a Runner and working alongside him sure did help their bond to grow. At some point, her eyes crossed Newt, sitting on the grass against a tree trunk with the new guy. He was staring at her as Newt talked. She watched them as he pulled him on his feet and dragged him around to show him the people here. He pointed at each group of Gladers settled around the bonfire, surely tellin him what their jobs were, like he did with her when she came up in the box. Suddenly, a Builder who was fighting against Gally stumbled into the Greenie before falling on the ground. Gally looked at the Greenie and she felt the urge to get closer as the Gladers circled around the two of them. Arms crossed, Grace was in the first row, watching how far this would go while the boys where chanting “Greenie”, encouraging him to fight Gally.

“That’s fucking stupid.” She mumbled, a little nervous for the Greenie and his upcoming fight with Gally as he motioned to the latter to approach. Everyone clapped and Greenie passed his gaze on everyone in the circle. His eyes met Grace’s and she felt a shot of shivers in her spine, somehow, she knew he felt it too but the voice of Gally made him break eye-contact with her.

“Okay. All right. The rules are simple, Greenie. I try and push you out of the circle. You try and last most than five seconds.” The crowd laughed at the sassy tone of his voice.

“Take it easy, Gally.” One boy said, mocking the Greenie. A moment later, Gally was rushing at him and pushed him violently. He didn't have time to retaliate and landed on three blockards who immediately pushed him back inside the circle. As the new one was sent back to Gally, the latter hit him in the back and sent him to the ground headfirst. Grace swallowed harshly as she watched him cough on some sands he accidentally inhaled when he fell. He leaned on his hands and looked back at Gally.

“Come on, Greenie. We’re not done yet.” He taunted while his opponent stood up.

“Stop calling me Greenie.”

“Stop calling you that? What do you wanna be called? Shank?” He asked defiantly. Everyone bursted in laughter, everyone but Grace who wasn’t fond of all that. Maybe she would have enjoyed it as much as them if she had no attach to the Greenie but for whatever reason, she hated seeing Gally drag him in the dirt like that, just for the sake of entertainment and ego. “What do you think boys?”

“Shank! Shank! Shank!” They chanted this new nickname Gally gave the Greenie and encouraged the keeper of the Builder, who kept going. He decided to run at Gally, making the latter rotate on himself, but he didn’t make him fall and instead, Gally sent him to the ground once again.

“You know what? I think I’ve settled on shank.” Gally stated. The others were still laughing as the new one got up and charged back at Gally. He grabbed the guy by the waist with force and pushed him as far as he could and Gally ended up on the ground. A smile tugged the corner of Grace's lips.

“Not bad for a Greenie, huh?” The instant he finished his sentence, Gally kicked him in the ankle, and he violently fell, hitting his head against the ground. Grace was right in front of his head ans she instinctively kneeled to be closer, hoping he was okay. He stayed a few seconds lying down, coughing dry. He lifted his head from the ground, staring at Grace but not really, like he had a revelation. He mouthed something. She could read on his lips he said his name, he said Thomas.

“Thomas! Heh. I remember my name. I’m Thomas!” He exclaimed, now back on his feet. Grace froze and felt like the cheerful voices of her companions became like muffled around her as she stared at Thomas among them. She couldn’t move. He was Thomas, the boy whose name she had written on a piece of paper and who left her a message. A message of hope. He wrote he was coming, and he did come. He was standing right there. Her brother was just in front of her, and it felt so fulfilling. Suddenly, they heard a loud chilling screeching coming from the Maze. Every single one of them had their head turned, alerted by the noise.

“What the hell was that?” Thomas wondered.

“That, my friend, was a Griever.” Gally replied. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here with us. Nothing gets through those walls.”

“All right, guys. Let’s tuck it in for the night.” Alby declared, dismissing the party. Slowly, everyone left in the direction of their beds and hammocks and only were left Thomas and Grace inn the middle of the circle. Like some of them, she came up to him to give him a handshake.

“Good job, Thomas.” He looked at her, a little unsettled by the threatening sound the creature made. The handshake was firm and they didn’t let go off each other’s hands for long seconds.

“What’s your name?” He asked, softly.

“I’m Grace.” She breathed out. She wanted to tell him what she already knew, that she had been waiting for him since she arrived and found his message but decided against, not wanting to confuse him even more for the night.

[To be continued…]  

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Published (03/28/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64