Admit Defeat (TMR fic 2)

Chapter 18

(this song describes Ash better than any other one I've found~)

I want nothing more than to defy WICKED, but I don't have a chance to yet. I zone out as Rat Man informs us that a flat trans, whatever that means, will appear at 6:00 am sharp, and will be open for a few minutes.

As soon as he's done relaying his message, the invisible wall starts to change color. It almost seems to fog up, becoming a murky, opaque grey. The tumbling questions of the Gladers are ignored as the color leeches back out of the barrier.

When it fades completely, the scientist is gone.

My mind is numb. I had suspected we were trapped, but it's still hard to face it. Everyone is arguing and talking through options, but I don't care.

Our choice is made. We'll obey them. And I will do everything I can to stand on my own, so that when the day comes I can tear WICKED apart from inside.

I start packing up some of the food, knowing we'll need to prepare for a hundred miles of running across the Scorch, whatever that is. Let them argue. I'm not that stupid.

Clint starts to help me. Neither of us say a word. We just sort and stack and work our way through the pile.

"Save the bags," Minho says as he joins us a few minutes later. "We'll need them to carry water."

I hadn't even considered how we would transport water, but I'm glad he brought it up. Most of the food wasn't packaged, but any plastic that we have we quickly gather into a pile.

I force myself to focus completely on what we're doing, on the methodical actions.

Maybe I can trick myself into forgetting how broken we are.

"Ash." Newt kneels beside me, and I can tell he's wondering how I'm taking it.

I don't look at him. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I shut down the conversation as quickly as I can. I don't want to talk to him. Not when his voice is so gentle and his eyes are so kind. Not when he's the person who could break down my walls with one stray glance.

I can't afford to let him near me, and yet he's utterly enticing and comfortable.

I want to be friends with him, but this world has never listened to what I wanted. Friends are weaknesses. Emotion is a disadvantage. WICKED rules us all.

Newt sighs a bit before standing and leaving to talk with Thomas. He's trying to give me space. His kindness grates against me, leaving aching scratches in my heart. He's kind, no matter who I am, no matter what I do to him.

Is it his weakness, or a strength?