don't blame me

two - winstons death.

Winston was dying. That much was clear.

Even though Teresa and Winston weren't friends, the thought of someone from their group dying out here had Teresa feeling anxious. After her dream about her mother, Teresa hadn't been sleeping often. Every night it was the same thing.

Secretly watch Newt watch Thomas sleep. Then turn around and pretend she didn't see anything. Night after night, spending it out here, with Minho and Newt clinging to Tom's side, made Teresa want to cry. She just wanted to have one conversation with Thomas without his boyfriends there. She didn't much like Newt or Minho. They pissed her off. If she was being honest, the only one she actually liked was Frypan. He was nice, but didn't bother her. She liked that.

Her memories had been plaguing her to a point where she felt like physically running just to maybe get away from it all. But she couldn't. There seemed to be nowhere to run out here and Teresa wondered if maybe they should just go back.

Tom was up on one of the sand dunes, looking to see how far the Right Arm was. They were getting closer and closer Thomas said, but Teresa knows that they aren't getting any closer, just farther from the Wicked facility. Teresa took her chance to speak to Tom without his little boyfriends hearing and made her way towards him.

"Hey." Tom said when he saw her. "You doing okay?" He asked. She simply nodded.

"I can remember. Things." She hadn't meant to cut right to the chase, but she wasn't sure why wicked had given her back her memories and nobody else.

She showed Thomas the mark on her neck. He was so gentle with her, trying not to hurt her while he looked.

"What do you remember?" He asked. She recalled when they had met for the first time. She told him the story, how he was shorter and slower than her, when another memory came to her.

—

"Get the bloody hell away from her!" A boy yelled. Teresa and Thomas made their way to where the sound was coming from and saw two blonde children. The boy was yelling at the guards and trying to hit and kick them everytime they would try to touch the girl, who was holding onto his arm and crying.

Thomas, ever the hero, came barrelling towards the boy. He tried to get the guards to back off, but Teresa knew, even as a child, grown men aren't going to listen to a five year old child.

The blonde boy, in a fit of rage, punched one of the guards in the crotch, sending him to his knees. Teresa giggled.

"Newt, Sonya. Please do not hurt my workers." Ava Paige said, coming up behind Teresa.

"Thomas, Teresa, introduce yourselves." She said. "This is Newt, he will be in your group. He isn't immune, so Wicked is the best place for him."

Thomas stuck his hand out for the boy to shake, but the boy refused, turning his nose up. He refused to look at either of them.

"Those aren't our names." He said.

"They are now." Ava said back. The boy held onto his sister tightly, and refused to look or speak back to Ava.

"I'm Teresa, who are you?" The boy did not respond. She glared at him and grabbed Thomas by the arm, pulling him away from them.

—

Decent reason to hate him, she thought. He's a stuck up asshole.

"How's it looking?" Newt asked.

"Good. Not very far now." Tom said. Teresa could tell he was lying. It was nothing but sand for miles.

"Tom? I think we should go back."

"What? Teresa-" He started, but she was quicker. All the emotions she had been building up made her want to scream at him about the way that things were, but she didn't do that. She thought about the day that Thomas betrayed them, betrayed her. She couldn't remember it that well, but she remembered the fear of wondering what they were going to do to him. That fear would stick with her forever.

"Everything was fine until you-" Gun shot.

Their conversation on hold, they both sprinted back to where everyone was.When they got there, nobody was dead, but Winston however, was crying, trying to pry the gun out of Frypan's grip.

"Please." He begged. Everyone stood there, unsure of what to do.

Teresa watched as Newt of all people, took the gun from Minho and placed in Winston's hands. Teresa watched as Winston thanked him.

"Get out of here, all of ya." Winston said. Teresa picked up her bag, and started walking along with the rest of the group.

It had only been about fifteen minutes of walking when they all heard it. That gunshot sent shivers down Teresa's spine. They all stopped, and after a moment, started walking again. Teresa wanted to cry.

—

"Thought we were supposed to be immune." Minho said. They all gathered around the campfire.

Teresa thought back to her memory she had this morning. Newt wasn't immune. He wasn't going to last long out here. Even if she didn't like Newt, he didn't deserve to die like that.

"Not all of us." She said. Newt looked at her. She ignored it.

"I miss the glade." Frypan said. Teresa did not. She turned around.

She hadn't slept in days, and after today, Teresa really needed to sleep. Everytime she closed her eyes, she saw her mother without any eyes, and it terrified her. She missed when she couldn't remember anything, no matter how confusing it was.

She closed her eyes. She just pretended everything was fine, but the memory of knowing Newt wasn't immune came to her mind. She wondered what would happen if he caught the Flare. Would he die out here with all of them watching? Would he kill himself to get away? Teresa felt like throwing up.

She tried to breathe out slowly. Everything is going to be fine, she thought.

—

It wasn't though. It was definitely not fine. She didn't know what she had missed while she had been asleep, but Minho seemed to have fallen asleep himself, and Aris had curled himself into a fetal position and was slightly shaking and Frypan just looked devoid of any emotion.

She searched around for Tom and saw him sitting away a little bit with Newt. It was clear that Tom was upset, but Newt seemed to be calming him down. Thomas seemed to relax under Newt's hold and Teresa thought about it. Thomas cared for Newt. Newt was going to die.

She turned back around and squeezed her eyes shut to try and stop the memories from coming back.