Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)

Forty-Two: The Magic Trust Bus

She awoke to a sudden jolt. Her body rose and fell hard, shocking her into consciousness. Immediately, her thoughts turned to the box, and she panicked, fearing that she was back there, on her way up to the Glade again.

That thought alone was enough to force her eyes open, to find out her fate. She saw the ceiling above her, the light filtering in from around, and breathed a sigh of relief, stirring up all sorts of pain, previously held dormant by her unconsciousness.

"Oh, thank God."

She recognised Newt's voice before she'd even had a chance to spot him. She now saw that she lay with her head on his lap, his arms protecting her from falling off the seat. His eyes were red and he looked as exhausted as she felt- like he'd ages fifty years in the time she'd been asleep.

She looked down and saw that the wound on her neckline had been bandaged up. Her hip and shoulder had been seen to as well. Trace frowned.

"Oh, good. Told you she'd wake up," said an entirely unfamiliar voice.

Trace tilted her head back, winced a little with the effort, and found herself looking at a short, brown-haired woman, dressed entirely in black.

"Who the shuck are you?" Trace croaked out, disappointed at how not-impressive her voice sounded right now. Battle cries were overrated, she decided.

The woman sighed, as if she'd encountered a few too many questions already today. Trace blamed Thomas. "We're here to save you from WICKED. To fight against them."

"Wow, that's awfully good of you." Trace knew the woman was lying through her teeth -this shank definitely worked for WICKED- but she couldn't find the energy to fight back. So she went for subtly.

"We're just here for the good of humanity. Testing on children in this way is not the way forward."

"That does seem like the obvious answer, doesn't it? Too bad some of us don't seem to understand that." Trace hoped her words were subtle enough to get away with.

"Well we're trying to put an end to it all. It's our hope you'll fight with us," the woman replied, speaking to both Trace and Newt now.

"I'll let you know when I'm feeling up to it," Trace smirked, sarcastically, before turning her attention back to Newt. The woman left, choosing to make her way back to the front of the bus.

Newt was smirking down at her. One of his best angles, Trace believed. He managed to acquire a surprising number of chins.

"What?" she asked.

"You don't trust them, do you?"

"I'd trust a Griever more than I'd trust these shanks."

"They did rescue us, Ace."

Trace sighed. Poor Newt, thinking they were being rescued. Little did he know...

"Let's just see where they take us before we make any conclusions about being 'rescued'," she said. Newt nodded.

He then proceeded to fill her in on everything he'd learnt while she'd been unconscious.

So, basically, he had very little to say other than 'the Flare exists and it kind of bloody sucks'.

But there was something Trace needed to know. Something that had changed. Something that she'd changed through attacking Gally.

"What happened to Gally?"

Newt's expression darkened. "He's dead. Minho bloody pummelled him into the ground."

"Minho killed him?"

Newt nodded solemnly. Trace just wondered how much would change because of that. She hoped not too much.

Other than the fact it meant Chuck was alive. She'd saved Chuck. Did that make her more of a hero than Thomas? She sure hoped so. Then maybe somebody would write a book about her someday.

No, she was probably too erratic to be a decent protagonist. Plus, she made too many puns to remain likeable...or relatable.

Newt sat her up, and Trace rested her head on his shoulder, while he rested his on top of hers. They soon fell asleep like this, tiredness overcoming their anticipation.

Trace knew that the worst was yet to come, but for now she'd just enjoy the company of her favourite character, knowing she'd managed to save another. She'd helped stop Gally and she'd saved Chuck's life.

She'd aced that test.