Disclaimer:

Thomas: My sister went on a cruise so now I'm cutting all the sleeves off my shirts.

Aris: Why?

Thomas: She's like 85% of my impulse control.

-✼-

The truth was out in the open— at least, to Thomas, it was. He shot me a look that said, You were right, but also simultaneously appeared like he didn't want to believe it. Who would?

Even I didn't. Though my hunch had been correct, I didn't feel any satisfaction because of it. Cold dread filled me in place of it. I had expected this to happen, but now that it had, I still wasn't prepared for it to hit me so hard.

I love you. Those words echoed in my head. Maybe being brought here only urged the Flare on more, faster, and maybe his brain was already slipping. I held onto the sentence, replaying it over and over so I could never forget what his voice sounded like when he said it. After all, I was certain I'd never hear him say it again.

"Show us where he is," Minho ordered. When I looked at him, I saw the anguish in his eyes he was trying so desperately to hide, his clenched fists at his sides, the ticking of his jaw as he fought not to lose his temper.

I knew there was only one way this was going.

The guard's hands rose in defense. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Your job's not done," Thomas shot back. It was filling me with despair. Since he was my twin and I knew him so well, I could read his thoughts like they were being presented to me in a book. It doesn't matter what Newt said. We're going to find him.

They were ignoring Newt's request because they thought they knew what was best for him.

My lips puckered sourly. I looked at Garret, who appeared pale and was glancing at Minho and Thomas nervously. It seemed like he was taking back everything he said before; he knew they were entering even more dangerous territory by doing this. After all, he had been in the Glade longer than I had, and he'd likely seen his fair share of Minho explosions.

The shorter guard shook his head. "No way. You asked us to find your friend and we did. Give us our money."

"Look, guys," Garret tried to say, "maybe we shouldn't—"

"Does it look like we're with him yet?" Jorge demanded, cutting him off. "No one makes a dollar until you get us all together."

Brenda nodded. Minho's eyes drifted to Garret and I, waiting for our agreements as well.

"I think we're going to stay behind," I said carefully, gauging his reaction.

"Absolutely not," Thomas protested immediately. "It's not safe."

"I'll have Garret with me," I fought back. Then, in order for Minho not to blow up and possibly cause a scene, I lied, "We weren't in a good place when he left. I don't want to make it worse right now."

It was a half-truth. We had fought, but the very last second before he was taken through the door had someone mended the wounds from our arguments. But if Newt caused a scene, I didn't want to be there to witness it.

"Sorry, but the raven-haired one's right," the mustache guard said with a shrug. "You two won't be safe, and both of us need to go with them in case there's trouble."

I sighed. So much for that.

The man nodded in approval, taking that as a sign of compliance. "Follow us."

They turned around and headed deeper into the complex. Minho was the first to follow; I was the last.

The more we walked, the sooner I realized that the guard had been right— Garret and I wouldn't have made it if we'd stayed on our own. The buildings grew more and more dilapidated, cracks appearing more frequently in the asphalt. Several people were laying on the sidewalk on bundled-up pieces of clothing. Their eyes were all glazed over, staring at nothing. Bliss.

But they weren't the only people around. Our guards had to aim their Launchers at anyone who got within a certain radius of us. They forced us to walk past a man who pounced onto a sickly teenage boy, and a shiver went down my spine.

"Don't even think about it," the shorter guard said to Thomas, who had stopped. "Keep moving".

"But isn't it your job to—"

The mustache guy interrupted. "Shut up and let us handle things. If we meddled in every squabble and catfight we saw, we'd never be done. We'd probably be dead. Those two can sort out their own problems."

"Just get us to Newt," Minho commanded.

I had to close my eyes when a gurgled scream from behind met my ears.

Garret, thankfully, didn't ask any questions as he walked silently alongside me. I caught him eyeing my hearing aid more than once. It wasn't impolite, just curious, though he still kept to himself. I was glad for it. The thought of how the lightning had struck between Minho and I was still frightening.

We finally stopped at a high wall with an archway leading to an assembly of people. A sign on top of it proclaimed it was the Central Zone, making my heart beat slightly faster.

It was actually happening. We were really meeting Newt here, and I just hoped for Minho and Thomas' sake that I had been wrong and Newt would want to come with us.

Though it was extremely unlikely, a part of me wanted to hang onto that hope.

"I'm only going to ask once," the mustache guard said. "Are you sure you want to go in there?"

"Yes," Minho answered.

"Okay, then. Your friend is at the bowling alley. As soon as we point him out, I want our money."

"Let's just get moving," Jorge grumbled.

We followed the men through the archway. They had us stop to take it all in, and suddenly two guards didn't seem like enough.

People — Cranks — were all over the place, filling the circular area lined by shops and restaurants that had once existed. They didn't seem nearly as bad as some of the other Cranks we'd seen in the Scorch. However, there definitely was something off about them. Some were laughing hysterically, others moving with dramatic motions. One man was walking in circles solemnly. Others were crying, a sharp contrast to the ones who had been cackling.

In the midst of our distraction, nobody noticed Garret disappear.

And nobody turned around when I was yanked from the back of the group, a hand clamped over my mouth as I was quickly dragged backward into the mass of people.

Immediately, my fighting instincts kicked in. I dropped my entire weight so it was much harder to carry me. The person holding me had spindly arms that weren't very strong in the first place, so while they cursed and tried to lift me back up, I bit down hard on their hand. They howled loudly. I took that moment to swiftly wrench myself from their arms and kick my feet at the back of their calves so they fell to the ground.

I stood to see a man who could have been any age, the Flare had warped his appearance so much. His pale skin was so thin I could see prominent veins beneath it, eyes bloodshot to the point there was hardly any white left in them. His jet-black hair was straggly. And there was blood on the pavement from how his head had struck it when he'd fallen.

I turned to see Garret knocking the daylights out of the woman who'd grabbed him, even as she reached up to scratch his face. I'd never seen him fight before, but he had a good punch. It shocked me for some reason. But whatever Garret had gone through since I'd last seen him had changed him; there was something dark inside of him. Or maybe there always had been, and it was just now starting to come out.

"Hey, shuckface!" Minho cried, and I looked up to see he had grabbed a Launcher from one of the guards' hands and was now standing above the man and I. "Say hello to my friend."

He shot the Crank without hesitation, sending a surge of electricity to his body. Then, he ran to Garret and took care of that lady as well. I couldn't watch as the man convulsed before me, gurgled gasps escaping him.

"Dylan, you know what will happen!"

I knew that voice. Still crouched to the ground, I turned toward the source, finding myself looking at a line of buildings. And there he was.

"Jorge - the bite will only make it spread faster. Do it!"

Theo, being mauled by the Cranks surrounding us. Blood oozed from his biceps where he'd just been savagely bitten. His brown eyes were desperate yet wild with fear as the Cranks pounced on him, more and more adding to his struggle. He was fighting to stand, but it was getting harder and there were so many—

"Dylan. Shoot me."

I was shaking violently from head to toe. The fact that the man was frothing at the mouth only a few inches from me didn't seem to register. Nothing did except my own trembling, shallow breaths that couldn't seem to give my lungs enough air. My palms struck the hot pavement and I stared at the ground without seeing.

I killed my best friend.

I killed Garret's best friend. How could I look at him knowing what I'd done, what I could never bring myself to look him in the eyes and tell him—

"Hey, hey."

The voice was distant. It was a faint echo among the sounds roaring in my head, forcing me to listen to the two gunshots that stopped Theo's heart, Minho saying "Dylan, we have to go," and how loud my sobs had been.

"Dylan, look at me."

Someone tilted my head up. I didn't notice a difference at all. I was still seeing the blood blossoming on his shirt.

"You're breathing. Okay? Yes, you are. You're breathing."

I didn't realize I was speaking, the words spilling out of my mouth with reckless abandon. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't—"

"Come on."

A swirl of movement. I was in someone's arms, gripping tightly onto the collar of their shirt even though I couldn't tell who it was. My senses were betraying me. That moment was all I could hear, see, smell...

Wetness on my cheeks. Tears. "I told you I didn't want to come here. I told you, I told you!"

The person was silent.

I was a dysfunctional time bomb that kept going off even before my timer hit zero.

-/-

I soon learned the person holding me was Thomas, as if I'd expected anyone else. Unlike in the Scorch, he held me correctly and in a way that kept me from slipping out of his arms. The gesture was a reminder that no matter how much we disagreed, we'd always have each other's backs.

Eventually the tears on my cheeks dried as we ventured toward the bowling alley where Newt was. The nearby Cranks had gone back to whatever it was they were doing; a disruption like that was hardly anything out of the ordinary.

The alley was open, the doors having been ripped from their hinges long ago. It may have once been a high-quality building. However, now the wooden sign displayed nothing but faded letters and the entire perimeter of the place was completely trashed.

"He's in there," the mustache guard said. "Now pay up."

Minho brushed past him into the opening, his eyes darting around.

"I can see him in the back," he reported. "It's dark in there, but it's definitely him."

"We want our money," the man repeated.

"You'll make double if you make sure we get back to our Berg safely," Jorge replied, unfazed.

Our guards consulted each other briefly. Thomas shifted nervously. I would have told him to put me down, but something told me he was using me as a sort of grip on reality. A reassurance that even if things went wrong, I was still there.

"Triple. And we want half of it now to make sure you're not blowing smoke out your butts."

"That's a deal, muchacho."

Jorge took out his card and successfully transmitted the money. I swallowed, wondering if they could somehow track it back to here. Would they even notice the missing cash? How exactly rich was W.I.C.K.E.D?

"We'll wait right here," the shorter guard promised.

"Come on," Minho urged, walking inside the building eagerly.

Thomas glanced down at me. I pretended not to notice, though he knew I was purposely avoiding his gaze. He was probably thinking about our conversation before.

My brother carried me inside. He took a moment to survey the interior, making me need to turn my head in order to see what he was looking at.

The words "bowling alley" triggered some sort of happy, carefree connotation. Although I had no memory of ever participating in bowling, it still seemed like it would be fun. This place, however, was far from what I had expected. All of the lanes were shredded, once-glossy boards now splintery and dull. Trash was everywhere. Even with the doors open, it still stunk from the various pieces of food strewn around the floor.

My nose twitched at the scent of fire. My eyes darted to the end of the lanes, where several were burning. People were laying in sleeping bags or blankets, some clearly hooked on Bliss.

Thomas shifted me again. I opened my mouth to tell him to let me go, but he shook his head like he knew what I was going to suggest and I let it be.

Minho pointed to the lane farthest to the left. Compared to the other areas, it was fairly devoid of people. Despite the poor lighting and distance, I could still pick Newt out right away. His blond hair flickered in the firelight and his lean frame stood out against haggard-looking people.

His back was to us. Our visit would be a complete surprise.

"Here goes nothing," Thomas muttered under his breath.

My stomach began to churn. I silently wished he would put me down because I began to feel dizzy, as if I was slipping through his fingers and the ground was coming up to meet me halfway. I was terrified of what would happen.

But most of all, I was terrified that I was right.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and ducked my head into Thomas' chest. If I had another fear test by W.I.C.K.E.D, maybe this would be one of them. I had faced Grievers chasing after me, rabid Cranks, and my friends dying in front of my eyes, but somehow this was too much.

Despite him being ripped away from me, it felt like our last goodbye had been a closed chapter in my life. And I didn't want it to be ruined by whatever would happen here.

I wanted to remember Newt as I'd seen him last— desperate eyes, a soft voice, him struggling against the guard to say what needed to be said.

I couldn't do it.

"Thomas," I whispered quietly but firmly. "Put me down."

"It'll be okay—" he started to reassure me, but I cut him off.

"Put me down. I'm going to be sick."

It was true. When I lifted my head and looked at the earth, it was spinning around me. My belly was an unsettling mass of tangled nerves.

Minho wasn't stopping. Only Brenda, Jorge, and Garret were behind us, the former sending me worried glances.

"I'll bring her back to stand by the guards," she offered. "She doesn't look too hot."

"I always look hot," I grumbled jokingly, only putting half effort into it.

"Sarcasm," Jorge noted. "That's a sign of good health."

Thomas took one good look at my face and nodded. He carefully set me back on my feet, Brenda gripping my arm immediately after to steady me. I held onto her like a lifeline. The walk back to the entrance felt like one of shame.

"She'll be fine," Brenda assured Thomas. "They'll keep her safe— after all, they want that extra cash."

They'd be keeping me alive for money. How reassuring.

But I knew she was right. As long as the promise of being paid was being dangled over their heads, those guards would do just about anything to make sure they got it.

Barely a few seconds passed before the others were following an oblivious Minho again. I was grateful for the taller girl's strength; if it hadn't been for her, I'd have collapsed already.

"It makes sense, you know," she said softly. "Why you don't want to see him. Whatever went on while we were gone...it must have been rough. I'll stay with you, if you want."

I shook my head. "No. I think Minho will suspect you kidnapped me or something."

Brenda chuckled. "Probably."

It took the guards some convincing and a promise of an extra amount of money for them to watch over me. The mustache one complained that "babysitting wasn't a part of the deal," but Brenda was an excellent persuader and it hardly took any time at all.

I sunk against the wall and slid to the floor. My eyes stared at my feet blankly, my brain working in overdrive to prevent myself from overthinking.

But when five dejected faces returned, I knew I had been right to stay back.

There was a cut on Thomas' cheek that hadn't been there before. From the back of the bowling alley, Newt's posture was rigid and angry, radiating rage.

But when I looked the other way, I froze.

The guards were gone.

gif is garret my smol

-----

listen up i LOVE garret with my whole heart n soul i'm so glad he's back i feel like i just need to say that a thousand times

questions:

-what do you think newt would have done if dylan had gone with them?

-do you understand why she didn't want to?

-will minho hold a grudge against her for it?

i literally wrote the upcoming disclaimers at 2 a.m last week and i was crying with laughter. they're so funny and i'm so excited (or maybe it was because of the lack of sleep)

-kristyn