Disclaimer:

Thomas: [is in the shower scene from TST]

Me: [Shawn Mendes voice] CONSUMING ALL THE AIR INSIDE MY LUNGS

-✼-

Brent led me down countless corridors that I knew I couldn't possibly remember. The turns were almost dizzying from how frequent they were. But the worst part wasn't the fear of where I'd be going or being separated from my friends- it was the stifling awkwardness between us that made me want to scream.

He walked quickly in such a way that gave me a hard time keeping up with his pace. His jaw was locked, no emotion on his face. The Launcher in his arms still held a silent threat that set me on edge.

"I know you," I finally decided to say through a heavy exhale. "Sonya broke your ankle."

"That kid didn't break it," Brent corrected matter-of-factly, "she fractured it."

He still had that same attitude as before, then. I rolled my eyes and wondered why he wasn't surprised that I remembered him. Was it his ego or had he been informed of my memories resurfacing?

"You and your brother- you're prodigies around here," he continued. I turned my head to look at him as we walked, but he kept staring straight ahead. "You're all my team's been talkin' about since God-knows-when. 'The star kid' and 'the freaky memory girl' was all anyone ever heard about."

"Freaky memory girl," I muttered distastefully. "What a great name to be known by."

If Brent heard me, he ignored what I said. "I didn't believe it. Thought nobody could resist the Swipe. But now I know- you're somethin' we ain't ever seen before." He paused. "It's probably because I trained you."

I scoffed. "Yeah, totally."

The rest of the walk was filled with silence again. After about ten minutes, Brent used a key card to unlock a door. He pushed it open to reveal a relatively small room with two sets of bunk beds and a kitchenette with a table and chairs in the far corner.

"Rest up, kid," Brent commanded as he urged me into the room. "Big day tomorrow."

As soon as I was inside, he closed the door and I heard it lock with a firm click. I slowly made my way toward one of the bunk beds. Climbing up to the top, I crossed my legs and waited. It was so silent that there was a faint ringing in my ears.

I didn't last more than a minute up there. The fidgeting became too much for me to bear, so I jumped down the metal ladder and made my way toward the kitchenette. There was nothing in the fridge, but a little water dispenser was connected to the outside of the door. Nothing useful was in the drawers. I sifted through every cabinet until I finally located where the silverware was. It was in the last drawer, and to my ironic delight, I found a knife.

With my hand slightly shaking, I gripped onto the handle of it and slowly slid the drawer shut. A trembling breath. "I am not afraid."

My fingers clenched more tightly around it. Then, I backed up against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the tile floor.

"It's okay," I whispered to myself. "Someone will be here soon."

But I didn't know that for sure. The walls started tilting in on me, appearing to constrict until I was stuffed in a tiny box. I shut my eyes tightly and gripped onto the knife. The images of Thomas' hand kept popping behind closed eyelids no matter how hard I tried to shove them away.

My voice was shaking more than my hands. "You're okay. You're okay."

No matter how hard I fought to convince myself of that fact, it just wouldn't drill itself into my brain.

-/-

The memories came as they usually did- in an oversaturated, dreamlike sequence that came along with a deep slumber. That was probably why I didn't hear the door open or the voices shouting at me until a hand was on my shoulder.

My mind instantly went in defensive mode, causing my eyelids to snap open and for my grip to tighten on the knife. I brought the weapon up to the person's throat menacingly. My other arm had them pinned up against the wall, elbow near their windpipe as well. My teeth were grit together in a snarl. However, after someone shouted, Dylan!" I snapped out of it and blinked to reveal Newt.

"Oh my God," I gasped as I took a step back and dropped the knife. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

Newt rubbed the spot on his neck where the knife had been and shrugged. "It's alright. I should've known better than to wake you like that."

"No." I shook my head. "It's because of Phase Three." It was then when I noticed Thomas and Minho standing off to the side, appearing like they weren't sure what to do. "What are you guys doing in here?"

"We don't know," Thomas replied wearily. "Some guards put us in here and told us food was coming soon."

"So you guys refused to remove the Swipe?" I wondered, watching as Newt picked the knife up by its handle and placed it back in its respective drawer.

"That's right," Minho confirmed without looking at me. "I'm not letting those freaks mess with my brain anymore. Is there any food in here? I'm starving."

As soon as he said that, all of our stomachs growled loudly in unison. Thomas cracked a small grin in a hint of amusement, but when he saw that nobody else was smiling, he quickly let it fall.

"I already checked the fridge," I informed him, but he walked toward the appliance anyway. "It was empty."

Thomas pulled the door open and stared for a second. Then, he turned his head and asked, "You sure? This thing is stocked full."

What? I blinked and shook my head when he produced four cheese sticks and grapes, then set small bottles of apple juice on the table. I watched him do that with widened eyes. The fridge had been empty, right?

"Don't worry, Thomas," Minho sighed as he slid back his chair, "Dylan's just losing it."

"Not funny," Newt shot back sourly, mouth pulled into a scowl. He grabbed a vine of grapes and started shoving them in his mouth angrily.

Still confused, I slowly walked toward the table and sank down in the chair between Newt and Thomas. Minho was chugging his juice across from me like there was no tomorrow. Unlike them, I reached toward the food at the center hesitantly like I was afraid it would jump away from me.

"You aren't Tantalus, Dylan," Thomas joked, then frowned. "Wait. Who is Tantalus?"

I sighed and snatched a cheese stick. "Tantalus was a guy in Greek mythology who was cursed with eternal hunger and thirst, but food and water would jump away from him. You used to read Greek myths all the time."

"That would suck," Minho commented, now starting on a pile of grapes. "Glad I don't have that problem."

The rest of our meal was eaten in silence. When a woman came bearing pork chops and mashed potatoes, we are those without a word as well. My stomach was aching by the time I finished it.

"Maybe we should just give in to those shuck-faces," Minho sighed. We were all sitting around the table with our empty plates set before us. "Do what they want. One day we'll all sit around, fat and happy."

"And experimented on," I reminded him pointedly. "We can't stay here."

But Thomas kept going with Minho's joke. "Maybe you can find a nice pretty girl who works here, settle down, get married, and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics."

"That's never going to happen."

Minho continued despite mine and Newt's annoyance. "W.I.C.K.E.D's going to figure out this blueprint business and we'll all live happily ever after."

"That's not even funny," Newt chimed in. "Even if they did find a cure, you saw it out there in the Scorch. It's gonna be a buggin' long time before the world could ever get back to normal. Even if it can – we'll never see it."

As much as I hated to admit it, Newt was right. We were only the first generation of Immunes. Who knew how many more it'd take until they were able to find a cure?

"After everything they've done to us, I just don't believe any of it," Thomas said, staring blankly at a spot on the floor. I knew what he was talking about immediately- the news about Newt and I. "That Janson guy thinks he has it all figured out. He thinks it all comes down to some sort of greater good. Let the human race kick the bucket, or do awful things and save it. Even the few who are immune probably wouldn't last long in a world where ninety-nine-point-nine percent of people turn into psycho monsters."

"What's your point?" Minho grumbled.

"My point is that before they swiped my memory, I think I used to buy all that junk," Thomas replied. "But not anymore."

"Then let's not waste our next chance, Tommy," Newt said.

"Tomorrow," Minho added. "Somehow, some way."

I nodded in agreement, but something kept nagging at my brain- what about the others? Teresa, Frypan, Aris, Sonya, Harriet? Were we just going to leave them behind to fend for themselves? And where would we go?

Newt yawned, breaking me out of my troublesome thoughts. "Then we better quit yapping and get some buggin' sleep."

And so we did - or, at least, everyone else did. Even after the lights were off and I was snuggled in the blankets on the top bunk, I still couldn't let myself succumb to sleep. I kept thinking too hard about my procedure tomorrow. What would the results say? The anticipation was nagging at my brain too much for it to calm down.

Minho's soft snores were the only sound in the room. I tried to close my eyes, only to find them open a few seconds later. There were countless daydreams I'd have but none where I'd actually fall asleep. Pretty soon I was gripping onto my pillow in frustration and clenching my fists as hard as I could.

Minho's snores stopped after I heard him roll over from the bunk across the room. He had claimed it quickly, saying "Too slow!" to Thomas, who had really wanted that bed. Ringing silence ensued that bugged me to no end.

"You're okay," I whispered to myself. "You're okay. You're not alone. You're okay."

But even as I said those words, there was still a part of me that didn't believe them. My chest felt like it was being crushed by the darkness. I sat up quickly and threw the covers off of myself. After climbing down the ladder, I paced back and forth across the cold tile. It was pitch black in the room, making me feel like I was walking through an endless void.

My chest felt tighter; I could hardly breathe. I turned toward where I assumed the fridge was and walked forward with my hands outstretched. At five paces, there was still nothing. My brain whirled and I broke into a run, smacking into a wall instead.

"Ow, shuck," I whispered as quietly as I could, thankful the thud hadn't woken any of the others. I trailed my fingers across the wall and felt for anything that might've given me a sign of where I was. When I felt the cabinet and successfully maneuvered around the countertop, I felt my lungs almost spasm. Then, after a few more steps, my hand grasped onto the handle and yanked the fridge open.

I was immediately bathed in a harsh, bright light. A heavy exhale came rushing out of my mouth as the weight slightly lifted. Just to be certain, I turned around and discovered that the light illuminated the room just enough for me to see Newt and Thomas' sleeping figures on the bottom bunks. The former was awake, startling me out of my wits when I noticed his eyes on me.

"Dylan?" he asked in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I was just...hungry," I lied awkwardly, reaching inside for some food but finding the fridge empty. "Guess we don't have anything. Bummer."

Newt, obviously unconvinced, sat up further in his bunk. "What's wrong? You've been acting strange."

"I'm handling news of W.I.C.K.E.D poking at my brain tomorrow perfectly well, in my opinion," I replied back.

"Shut up," Thomas muttered almost incoherently. "I'm tryna sleep."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. Newt was still holding me under a heavy stare and my heart was still afraid for some reason. Maybe it was the confinement. After being locked up for so long, I just couldn't handle it anymore.

"Come here."

I shook my head. "What?"

"Come here," Newt repeated.

"Um." I glanced back at the fridge, my only source of light, and remembered my file. It had said achluophobia under 'phobias.' The fear of darkness. But it was only a short walk from where I was standing to get to Newt, and then the feeling that was gnawing at my stomach like a hungry dog would go away. "Okay."

Sucking in a breath of air, I quickly closed the fridge and bolted as fast as I could in the direction of the bunks. It luckily only took a couple of steps until I could grab onto the bedpost and swing myself onto the mattress. Unfortunately, I landed right on top of Newt, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to blanch.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rolling me off of him and putting a hand to his stomach.

My eyes widened. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

Suddenly, a thunk against the wall above the top bunk made both of us jump and grab onto each other. It turned out to be Minho who had thrown his pillow with the intention of harming us.

"Shut up," he hissed in annoyance, voice muffled and slightly slurred from sleep. "I'm gonna kill you both." There was a pause. "But hey, could you grab that and toss it back here? That's my only pillow."

-/-

The next morning called for a rude awakening. A loud series of knocks on the door prodded me from my slumber, causing me to sleepily open my eyes. Newt groaned in annoyance which made his chest rumble. My head was resting on it, his arm slung over my back and our limbs tangled together. I felt a rush of nostalgia; I missed moments where I could wake up like that.

I barely had time to sit up before the door opened. Five guards carrying Launchers filed in, Brent among them. His face was blank and he kept his line of vision toward the back wall. Lastly, Janson stepped in and sent us an animalistic smile.

"Rise and shine, kids. We've decided to give you your memories back after all. Like it or not."

My blood froze in my veins. The first thing I thought was, They know. We should have checked the room for cameras before discussing our ingenious plan of escape. How could we have been so stupid?

Newt was out of the bed in a flash. How he managed to get up so fast was a mystery to me, but he was facing Janson with his fists clenched at his sides faster than I could blink. "Like hell you are."

I swung my legs around so my feet touched the floor. Thomas met my eyes from his bunk across the room, and although we didn't have telepathy, I could still read his thoughts more easily than I could read a book.

"You told us we didn't have to," my brother said skeptically.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," Janson replied snidely. "The time for lies is over. Nothing's going to work with you three still in the dark. I'm sorry. We need to do this. Newt and Dylan, of course, will benefit the most from a cure, after all."

"'The time for lies is over,'" I repeated, pushing myself up from the bed and glaring at Janson. "So you admit it, then? You've been lying to them about keeping their memories? Do we even have a say in anything anymore?"

Janson studied my face carefully, and to my surprise, his expression softened. "Look, I understand how you must feel. You've seen some awful things. But the worst part is over. We can't change the past, can't take back what has happened to you and your friends. But wouldn't it be a waste to not complete the blueprint at this point?"

Was he kidding? He tried to pretend he cared, but that last sentence just about proved it: Janson didn't give a damn what happened to us as long as his precious blueprint was finished.

An offended expression crossed Newt's face. "Can't take it back? That's all you have to say?"

"Watch it." One of the guards pointed a Launcher at Newt's chest, making my heart leap into my throat.

"We're running out of time," Janson continued impatiently. "Now let's go or we'll have a repeat of yesterday. My guards are willing, I assure you."

A repeat of yesterday? What happened then?

Minho jumped down from his bunk. "He's right. If we can save you, Newt, Dylan, and who knows how many others, we'd be shuck idiots to stay in this room a second longer." He shot Thomas a glance and nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's go."

And with that, he pushed past Janson and walked into the hallway. It took almost everything in me not to grin. Minho was clever.

And Thomas wasn't. I kept trying to catch his eye, but he just stared at Minho's retreating figure in confusion. The urge to hit him upside the head surfaced. How could he not see that the opportunity to escape was so clear?

"Great." Janson recovered from his surprise fairly quickly and let another sinister grin cross his face. "We'll start with Dylan, then."

My blood froze. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at him in astonishment, a chill creeping up my spine.

"What, did think we'd be leaving you in here alone?" he mocked, then shook his head with a wry chuckle. "No. Your procedure has been moved up." His head jerked toward Brent, who came forward and grabbed my arm before I could protest.

"C'mon, pipsqueak," he sighed, urging me forward. I complied with my heart beating so fast my head spun. "It's a bit of a walk."

I didn't get a chance to glance back at Thomas or Newt before he brought me out of the room, but I did see Minho in the hallway. His eyes widened as he watched me get led away. He seemed to be cursing himself under his breath, trying to comprehend what to do now that his brilliant plan had failed miserably.

gif is brent

----

okay so it's been about a month since i updated and i am SO SORRY!! i've tried so hard but i was too brain dead to write anything for a while. eventually, i had to force myself to finish this and luckily i did!

questions:

-what do you think of brent?

-do you think something's happening to dylan?

-will W.I.C.K.E.D be able to finish the testing or no?

-would you rather be stuck with julia, maseo, or janson for 24 hours?

i promise the next update won't take as long! we're getting to the exciting parts woooooooooo

-kristyn