Something mimicking crestfallen silence shadows over our figures, shoulders slumped with the weight of an arbitrary world, orbs glistened over with the memories of grief that have brought us to this very moment, only this loss is unlike the others, far more catastrophic than the loss of an Innocent, or the sacrifice of a Warrior, for it reigned over the betrayal of a fellow friend and the capturing of a Brother, no, this is agony, this is pessimistic, and it took the shape of pitch black veins that branch out like winter, withering away all hope and life, intricately woven to bring inevitable demise. We've experienced loss unlike many other fortunate beings before us, but this affliction appears to be exclusive with our fragile souls, it already held a unrelenting grip long before Newt's confession, long before the very first loss, this unspeakable heartache was the first to become once the first Glader arrived in the Glade, it has continued to ruin our lives, and will persist doing so till our last breath is drawn, this gravity is too cogent, very successful in the conjuring over my rationality, fists are clenched, forming balls of untamed wrath, cursing the lives we are coerced to endure. "Tommy, do you mind giving me and Rose a minute alone?" Newt requests gently, almost misfiring the ears of the one he directed it towards, Thomas's chin flexes, glancing towards me uncertainly, I send him a brief, reassuring smile, with feeble confliction, Thomas straightens himself, aware Newt would never harm me, with or without the Flare, Newt lingers in the silence, placidly waiting for Thomas, so that his following words could be scarcely perceptible, I watch as his figure becomes enveloped in shadow and his footsteps become muffled from distance, I sigh heavily, redirecting my attention to the elevating Sun. "How long have you known?" I question, my words slithering out from my lips in a meek whisper, swallowing a deep, trembling breath, Newt leisurely shifts his exhausted gaze to the side, clenching his jaw "a few hours" he admits, I restrain myself from gawking towards him "my veins weren't really visible till last night, though... But I could feel something... Something not right in my head..." He mutters, glaring down towards his arm as he unfolds the sleeve, concealing himself once again "at first, my arm started out sore, so I thought nothing of it. But then, the pain got worse, but the waves of pain didn't start till last night", I attempt to swallow another rough lump in my throat "I then noticed my arm having phases of going numb and stiff between the phases of pain, as if it's... dead" he mutters the last words, appearing to be raw poison on his lips, gnawing my lip to restrain the agonized sobs threatening to escape, I place my hand upon his infected one, not bothered by the risks, more focused on comforting him "why didn't you tell me?" I question him, wishing for a genuine respond. One not filtered or restrained by his wish to appear collected and indifferent, aware I was the sole person he could be genuinely demoralized with "because I didn't want to worry you, I knew you would try to sacrifice yourself for me, and you didn't disappoint me there", I allow my lower lip to quiver as the reign over all the emotions crashing relentlessly down upon me becomes too great "because I can't live without you, Newt" I manage as a single tear rolls down my cheek, lowering my head as I scorn myself for being so debilitated. Newt lifts my chin with gentle skims, shocking my senses, who have been divested of his caring touch for too long, his orbs sternly gaze into my own, implying the certainty behind his upcoming words "as I can't live without you, Love, I won't be able to handle watching you slowly die, even if we reached Minho in time, I won't bear the guilt knowing you came so close to death because of me", I notice the tears that have begun to accumulate around his rims "death isn't foreign to me, Newt" I whisper, he flinches "and I don't wish to make it familiar". He dries the tear with the pad of his thumb, solacingly caressing my skin as his lip begins to tremble "I can't watch you die, Newt" I refuse, disbelief allowing my mind to race, millions of conclusions birthing per second, desperately searching for a nonexistent solution "and you won't, we'll reach Minho in time and I'll be good as new, that way we can finally have that Happily Ever After I promised you", I giggle dejectedly towards his words, overlapping my hand over his, his finger grazing over the band on my left hand "that sounds about right". A drained smirk is sent my way, I return the gesture, allowing my raw emotions to filter through my lips, unrestrained by the dire circumstances "I profoundly, fervently, irrevocably and ardently care about you, Rose", at the mention of those words, my emotions surge through, I throw myself onto him, curling my body into his, merging into one fragile mass that has been incessantly challenged and broken, I tighten my grip, relishing the detection of his kind hands rubbing my back soothingly, raking the strands of my hair, I press my face into the crook of his neck. Searching for alleviation in his steady hum of life that beats with certainty, effortlessly becoming a sniveling mess as I sketch this hopeless moment into my memory, unable to fathom a world without him, I slacken my hold on him, merging my gaze with his own, sniffling to recompose myself "I profoundly, fervently, irrevocably and ardently care about you, Newt", he gingerly cups my cheek and leans me closer to him, allowing rivers of my grief to stream down my cheeks, I demurely merge my lips into his, our tears combining into a foreign mixture of grief, genuinely vanquished together.
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The Extirpated
FanfictionWICKED promised it was the end. No more tests. No more lies. But SHE knows well the statement could never be true. The Scorch was only the beginning. The group will witness horrors that will dominate over the towering Maze Walls. They will endure so...
