Admit Defeat (TMR fic 2)

Chapter 43

(song~)

I'm incredibly bored by the time the others arrive. Newt and I are arguing about whether or not throwing Cranks off the roof would be a good battle tactic when Minho climbs up. I don't realize he's there for a moment, so my automatic reflex is almost to throw him off the roof. Thankfully, Newt grabs me before I can attack him and I recognize him a moment later.

"Oh. Hey, Minho."

"Any sign of Tommy?" Newt asks, lying back down in the shade lazily. I follow him, the heat as stifling of activity as it is boring. Since the sun is setting, our patch of shade has taken up most of the roof.

"No," Minho sighs, joining us and pulling his shoes off.

"You stink like a pile of Grievers," Newt grumbles, but Minho only puts his feet closer to him.

The other Gladers join us after a minute.

"Signs, all over the city," Frypan is saying. "Just when we lose the guy we realize he's necessary. Just our luck."

Something occurs to me, and I kick at Minho. "You know what those signs remind me of? The plaques in the Maze. World In Catastrophe, and all that jazz."

Minho nods, yawning. "Yep. Definitely WICKED. Jorge said they've been here longer than he has, though. They sure must have planned ahead."

"Or it's about some other bloke," Newt suggests in a dry voice. "Does it really matter? We need to find Thomas because he's our friend. He can be in charge, but I don't know what it would really change."

"Well," I say, "considering his tattoo says he's going to be killed by Group B, knowing that he's important might make that a bit more problematic."

"Oh," Newt says. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about his tattoo. Damn, that boy knows how to get in trouble." He rubs his face with his hands in irritation. Seeing him worry warms my heart a bit. He cares so much.

I'm almost inspired by his bravery, his willingness to care even though WICKED will destroy him with it.

Almost.

Ultimately, though, I'm not sure he really understands the stakes, so I can't follow in his footsteps. From my point of view, it's an impossible bargain. Right?

Soon enough the sun sets, the sky becoming a velvety, dark blue lit with stars. The Gladers fall asleep, but Newt and I are anything but tired after sitting around and napping for hours. My hand hardly hurts anymore, and I'm awake.

Newt stands and steps around the sleeping Gladers, walking towards the edge of the roof. He glances over his shoulder in a clear invitation, and I follow him.

Once we're in a secluded area where our whispers won't disturb the others, we sit side-by-side on the roof's edge, feet dangling.

"I thought you didn't like heights," I point out as a Crank wanders past in the distance.

Newt shrugs and smiles at me. "I'm less scared, now. With you... I... I feel like I'm less likely to get hurt."

I don't know what he means, but I don't want to ask. He can't need me. He can't need me, because WICKED will use it, because I need to push him away.

Because this time tomorrow I'll be dead.

We sit silently, staring up at the stars around us. It's gorgeous, the way the sky is flecked with pinpricks of light streaming down, the blue that melds into the black suspended above the world. I take Newt's hand, and his thumb strokes mine thoughtfully.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he says, softly.

"I didn't realize there was beauty left in the world," I answer.

"I don't want this to end, Ash."

I smile sadly. "If this moment could be forever... I'd be happy."

"But when tomorrow comes..." His voice trails off in a questioning tone.

"Don't worry," I whisper. "Don't worry about that, Newt. For right now, the world is beautiful."

I am leaving tomorrow. We're finding Thomas, and I'm leaving the others. But I don't want him to know. I don't want him to try and change my mind. I don't want to watch it hurt him.

Am I a coward if I'm only willing to break him from afar?

I lean my head on his shoulder, and he snakes his arm around my back. Right now, the world is beautiful. For this moment, everything is okay.

So I soak in the feeling of his heartbeat, my eyes still locked on the sky as the stars swirl slowly.

And I smile. Bittersweet, broken, but a smile.

The night stretches on.