Subject B3 (newt x reader)

Chapter 55

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" I hear Gally say, and I look up to see him indicating to the place on the log next to me where Gzi was previously sitting before she went off to find Nat.

"Of course not." I smile warmly, and he returns it weakly as he sits down next to me.

"So, who's name are you going to write on the rock?" He asks quietly, nodding his head in the direction of the stone.

"There's so many names I could write on the rock." I sigh gently, "but I'll probably write Maria's. Not that I don't want to write everyone else's name, because they all mean so much to me, but Maria and I always had a special connection, you know?"

"Yeah, I get you." He replies.

"What about you?" I ask, and he turns to look at me with a slightly confused expression. "Who's name are you going to write?"

He pauses for a moment, clenching his jaw as he fiddles with his metal cup. "Chuck."

The little boy.

"I don't know if the others ever told you what happened-" he begins, but I cut him off.

"Yeah, they did. But they also told me that you had been stung by a Griever and were completely out of your mind." I say, trying to reassure the boy's obvious guilt.

"Yeah, well it still doesn't take away the fact that I killed him."

"No, it doesn't." A familiar voice calls. We both snap our heads up and see Thomas standing over us, and instantly Gally's breathing hitches.

"But I heard you say it yourself to Minho in the Last City: 'everyone makes mistakes.' He basically did the same thing to you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, expect I didn't die and Chuck did." Gally replies as Thomas sits down beside him.

"Gally." Thomas says quietly, bowing his head slightly. "You know Chuck wouldn't have survived the Scorch, I know you do. We barely did, and we're about 3 years older than he was. As much as I hate to say it, it was better for him to die before we endured the Scorch. Imagine how traumatising that place would have been for a child."

Gally nods, but I can tell from his clenched jaw that he doesn't believe a word of what Thomas just said.

"Y/N!"

I turn around and see Fry on the other side of the beach, smiling and waving at me.

"Ok, I've gotta go see Frypan. It seems like he wants me." I say to Gally, before mouthing to Thomas will you be alright? The boy nods back.

"Alright, see you guys later." I say, raising to my feet. And just before I leave the pair, I reach  down and gently squeeze Gally's shoulder. He shifts his eyes up to look at me, and I offer him a warm smile.

"It'll be alright." I say quietly. The boy hesitates for a moment, before offering back a slightly wavered smile as he puts his hand on top of mine and squeezes it.

"Thanks." He whispers, and with that, I leave the two boys to continue talking and make my way over to Frypan.

"Hey, Fry!" I beam as I reach the boy, who hands out the last plate of food to one of the survivors before directing his attention towards me. "What's up?"

"I need your help in the kitchens. I need to make some more stew to feed the people who haven't eaten yet, and I remember you telling me that you were a cook in your Glade, so I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Of course!" I say, and the boy's face lights up in excitement.

"Really? That would be great. Thank you." He replies, "I'll show you where the kitchens are."

"I haven't been in a kitchen in over a year, so I'm probably a bit rusty." I say as we walk up the beach away from the crowd and along the paths of the Safe Haven to a brick building right at the edge of the camp.

"Don't worry, neither have I. And to be honest, I don't think any of these people really care. They just want some hot food."

I laugh as Frypan pushes open the door and flicks on the light-switch, revealing a petite room with a large oven along the left wall, and a sink on the right, and a metal table in the middle.

"The ingredients are on the table, and I assume you know how to make a stew." Frypan smirks.

"It was the only thing we ever ate in the Coremeum." I laugh, walking over to the metal table and picking up some of the ingredients. Grabbing a large bowl, I turn on the stove and wait for the blue flame to flick up before putting the bowl over it and beginning to throw in some beef chunks.

"Did you ever have a recipe in the Glade for this?" I ask the boy as he turns on the stove next to me and begins to make his own batch.

"No, they never sent one up in the box for us." He replies, reaching for the peeler and beginning to skin the potatoes.

"Neither. So in reality, neither of us actually know how properly make stew. We just made it up." I say, and Frypan giggles.

"I guess that's true. But I mean no one died from eating it, so I guess we can't have made it that badly."

******
The chatter coming from the beach hasn't faded in the slightest and Frypan and I walk back down the path, each of us carrying a big metal bowl filled with piping hot stew, along with a stack of bowls.

"Let's just set it down right here." Fry says once we reach the top of the beach. He indicates to a flat patch in the sand, and I carefully set down the metal bowl, being cautious not to let any stew spill.

"More stew!" Frypan shouts across the beach, and immediately several heads snap around, and I watch as people's faces light up with delight at the mention of more food.

"Thank you so much for helping, Y/N." The boy says as we begin pouring stew out into the bowls and handing them out to the survivors.

"Anytime!" I smile to him just as Gzi wanders over to us.

"Hey Gzi! Would you like some stew?" Frypan offers the girl, but she smiles and shakes her head.

"I'm alright at the moment, thanks Fry. I actually came over to get Y/N."

"What's up?" I say, and her smile wavers slightly as she looks over to the large stone at the bottom of the beach, which has already been covered in the names of lost loved ones.

My face falls as I realise what she wants me to do.

"Y/N, I think we need to go write the girl's names on the rock."