#iw2

“Tell me, Thomas.” Janson said as he sat in front of Thomas. “What was your relationship like with B2?”

Thomas waited at the table, his arms resting on the cold aluminum surface. Mere days had passed since you were gone and he could already feel the emptiness in his chest. He volunteered to monitor your Maze often, watching you specifically. He knew it wouldn’t make the separation any easier. He knew it was driving the stake in his chest deeper and deeper every day he saw you. But he couldn’t help it. You were the only thing that mattered to him.

“She has a name.” Thomas said simply. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Right… Y/N.” Janson nodded carefully. “She’s excelling in the new setting. Have you noticed?”

“Of course she is.” Thomas said, biting back his proud smirk. “Did you really think she wouldn’t? She was the best damn thing that ever came out of this place.”

“What was your relationship like with her?” He pressed.

“Wh-what do you want me to say?” Thomas asked suddenly, knowing what the Assistant Director wanted. “You want me to say that I miss her? That I loved her? It doesn’t matter anyway. You sent her away.” Thomas sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. No matter what he felt for you, he wouldn’t tell WICKED anything. “You know, she hated this place… Planned how to get out a hundred different ways..”

“Yet she never left.”

“No” Thomas agreed. “She didn’t.”

“B2- I mean, Y/N, just couldn’t see the bigger picture. You’re all a part of something that will save everyone. You see that, don’t you?”

Thomas didn’t have an answer. Teresa would tell him that Janson is right, that what WICKED was doing would help people. Teresa would swear up and down that WICKED is the good guy and that they’re there to help. But Y/N told a different story. Y/N saw what things were on the inside. It was manipulation, isolation. Y/N saw the kids losing their identities, becoming just another test subject, and being scared as hell because they remembered nothing. How could WICKED be the good guy when they do things that bad guys in books do?

“Why’d she stay, Thomas? If she hated us so much..”

“She stayed for me.” He admitted, a slight tug in his chest. He felt a tad guilty now that you were in your Maze and he was still at the Compound. You could’ve been safe from all of this if he had agreed to go with you. But at that time, he was convinced that the right thing to do was to stay. After losing you to WICKED’s twisted, oversized game, it didn’t sit right in his gut to be there.

-

“You must be the new girl.” Thomas greeted you with a wide smile.

You were taken back by his effortless good looks. The dark brown hair that fell onto his forehead, the hopeful and welcoming smile, the deep hazel eyes that quickly scanned your figure. You were stunned into silence, only able to nod and grin. You felt the heat creeping up your neck and to your ears.

You chuckled nervously as you heard the man say something about this boy showing you around the Compound. Everything else was muffled, white noise that didn’t seem to make sense. It was like all your brain let you focus on was the boy in front of you. He made your stomach tighten, your breath shallow, your heart beat fast, your fingers tremble. You had barely laid eyes on him and you were already in love. You started to wonder if soulmates were a thing.

“Hi.” You managed. “I’m Subject B2, I guess.” You shrugged sadly, already tired of the number you were assigned. You wanted more than anything to use your name, but it seemed like that didn’t belong to you anymore. Given names weren’t protocol at WICKED.

“I don’t care about that.” He waved a hand to dismiss your introduction. “What’s your real name?”

“My real name?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. Everyone else in the Compound only cared about your number or your subject title. “Uh, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N..” He nodded, holding a hand out for you to shake. “I’m Thomas.”

“Thomas..” You smiled softly, taking his outstretched hand. “I like that.”

After that first day, you never seemed to let go of his hand and he never let go of yours. Whenever you walked the Compound with Thomas, you held his hand. When you snuck into his room because yours felt too cold since you were alone, you held his hand while you slept on his chest. When you two were having sex, he held your hand. When you were working together in the lab or filing paperwork, you held each other’s hand. Until the day you got caught.

“And what do we have here?” Janson asked from behind you, clasping a hand onto one of each of your shoulders. “Hand holding? In the cafeteria?”

“We should probably run.” You told Thomas, who simply nodded with a mischievous smile on his face.

You two slid under the table and out of Janson’s grip. You both crawled out over the feet of the kids at your table and ran through the cafeteria. You heard the thump of boots chasing you, the yelling of your subject numbers, the sound of the alarm. But Thomas simply grabbed your hand and ran through the halls, you easily in tow. You laughed out of pure joy, genuinely having fun in that moment, and realized that you really did love Thomas.

“We’re surrounded.” You said between breaths when you and Thomas came to a hallway where guards were coming at you from both sides. “I’ll take the fall this time.”

“What?” Thomas asked with a small chuckle. “It’s my turn!”

“Too late.” You shrugged, putting your hands behind your head and dropping to your knees. “I’ve already surrendered.”

“I love you.” He laughed.

“You owe me.” You winked as you were hauled to your feet and dragged away.

Your punishment was a night in the Hole. That wasn’t what it was actually called, but it’s what all the kids called it. It was a small room, smaller than your individual rooms. It had an old cot and no windows. There was no light and the room was practically soundproof. It was intended to be a room of reflection, to think back on how your actions don’t help the cause. But for you, it was just a weekly change of scenery.

“These actions are… unbecoming of such a promising candidate, B2.” Janson sat you down the next day. “You cannot continue this behavior.”

“A promising candidate?” You laughed. “I’ve yet to be fully compliant. I spend at least one night a week in the Hole. I misspell words on my paperwork so they’re invalid. I sandbag my physical fitness tests. I hardly respond to my subject number. Tell me, Rat Man, how am I a promising candidate?”

“Trust me, we’ve noticed the fitness numbers.” He replied simply, waving his hand to dismiss your confession. “We’ve seen the way you run these halls. You keeping pace with A2 tells us all we need to know.”

“And what exactly do you need to know?” You lean forward onto the table, head tilted in curiosity and eyebrows lifted.

“Just how cunning you really are.” He replied lowly, as if it was a secret. “And now that your confession is on camera, you’re going to be a bit more compliant.”

“Why should I?” You challenged.

“If I give this video to Ms. Paige, she’ll have you sent in much sooner than we’d like.” He threatened.

“So I either follow protocol more or I lose everything?” You sat back and nodded slowly. “Alright, fine. You’ve got yourself a deal, Rat Man.”

“Director Janson is how you will address me from now on.” He said firmly, standing from his chair. “That is all, B2. And I expect to see no more PDA between you and A2.”

“Sure.” You nodded, pressing your lips to a line. “You won’t see us holding hands any longer.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re wrong, by the way.” You added as he stood to leave. You tapped your finger against the table, staring at the rhythmic movement of your hand. “All of you are.”

“About what?” He asked with a sigh.

“All of this.” You said, clenching your other hand into a fist. “You don’t want to save anyone but yourselves. We aren’t here for a cure for the world. We’re here to make a new commodity that no one will have access to. I’m guessing the currency system went out the window by now, so what? You want people to pay with their first borns?” You paused, faking an epiphany. “That’s how we all got here! WICKED told the world if they give up their kids-”

“That’s enough!” He shouted suddenly, slamming his palms against the table. You shot up quickly, knocking the chair away from you in the process. You pressed your palms flat against the cold, aluminum surface, leaning into them.

“You know I’m right.” You said simply. “The only people that will have access to the cure is in this building.”

“You don’t see it yet, B2.” He replied, shaking his head in disappointment. “But you and the rest of those kids are going to make the world a better place.”

“It’ll be better once you’re dead and WICKED is gone.” You scoffed, standing tall.

“Is that a threat?” He cocked his head, straightening and fixing his jacket.

“Not at all.” You smirked. “It’s a promise.”

From then on, you didn’t hold hands with Thomas where anyone could see. Instead, you would subtly hook two fingers around his. You walked a bit closer to him in the halls, hiding your hands from the line of sight. If anyone wanted to catch you, they’d have to look very closely.

Janson kept you, Thomas, and Teresa on tight schedules. Breakfast at 6AM. Labs at 7:15. Psych evals at 8:30, but only every other day otherwise it was reaction tests. Stretching and yoga at 9AM, and fitness training at 10:30. Every Friday was a fitness test instead of training. Lunch at noon, followed by Clinic Meetings at 1PM. Paperwork at 2. Leisure time until dinner at 6PM. Reports and briefings at 7, then leisure until lights out at 10PM.

During your time at WICKED, you learned the guard rotation. You learned which guards they kept posted where, when they switched shifts, how long was the gap time. You watched the codes to the doors, which were fingerprint locks and which were keypads. You mentally noted elevator shafts and stairwells, always knowing what level you were on. You, Thomas, and Teresa had rooms on Sublevel 2 but the rest of the kids stayed together on Sublevel 3. Your programs never intertwined unless you were training.

The gym was on ground level. You didn’t know what the level below that contained everyone else, but all you knew was that the kids that went down there didn’t come back. You had yourself convinced it was Hell, and the Compound was a facade for the Gates.

You often wondered what the outside world had come to. What did the Cranks actually look like? Were they like the zombies you saw in movies? Were they something else completely? You wondered what happened to the kids you went to school with, the ones you grew up with. Were they alive? Was your family alive?

“Hello?” Teresa said, waving her hand in front of your face one morning while you waited for your psych evals. The psychiatrist was talking to Thomas, which left you and Teresa in the waiting area. There were two guards posted by the door, their weapons were aimed down but their eyes never left you two. “Are you paying attention?”

“No, I wasn’t.” You shook your head and offered an apologetic smile. “What were you saying?”

“The groups are progressing nicely. We’ve begun sending in members of Group A. And Group B deployments are scheduled to start next week.” Teresa said proudly.

“Can’t wait till I’m out of here.” You mumbled, letting your head fall against the wall behind you. “Who was sent in for Group A?”

“The only one I know for sure was a boy named Nick.”

“Nick?” Your head lifted for a second before letting it fall again. You tried to remember Nick, but your mind was blank. You felt bad for not really knowing him, but the three of you barely interacted with the rest of the kids. “Poor kid.”

“George is next, I think. Then Al-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” You cut her off. “Those boys are our friends and we’re watching them lose everything and get sent into an oversized children’s game. And for what, Teresa?”

“You’re supposed to call me A1.”

“A1, sorry.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m tired of this. All the other kids live in dorms and we’re separated. Why? Cause we’re special? It’s bullshit!”

“Keep it down.” The guard ordered.

“It’s bullshit.” You said in a quieter voice. “Te- A1, you can’t tell me that you’re okay with all of this. What about when it comes to Thomas? Or me? What happens when we get sent in?”

“You just don’t see the progress we’ve made, B2. WICKED is good.” She nodded.

“Right…” You trailed off.

“B2? Your turn, sweetheart.” The psychiatrist said as she opened the door to her office. Thomas quietly walked by you, shooting you a quick wink. You blew him a kiss and followed the psychiatrist into her office.

The tension only grew in your body. Every day that you had to wake up in that place, fake compliancy, and help WICKED made you feel sick. You hated your life, your routine. You had begun to wish there was nothing special about you and you could’ve been left with your family. You had to constantly remind yourself that you had at least one good thing. You had Thomas. And you had made a couple of new friends in the general kid population, Newt and Minho and Alby.

“How’s it going, A5?” You greeted him as you turned on the treadmill next to his.

“Since when do you follow protocol?” Newt laughed, not breaking stride.

“Since I got threatened with deployment over a week ago.” You shrugged. “Only way to keep what I got is to do what they want.”

“Keeps us alive, doesn’t it?”

“You really call this living?” You scoffed, beginning your run. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“At least you’re not bunking with a million other guys.” Newt shook his head. “They’re great and all, but they stink!” He joked.

“It gets lonely on Sublevel 2, believe it or not.”

“I bet you have something that keeps you occupied.” He teased.

“Oh you mean T?” You replied casually. “He definitely keeps me occupied.” You winked.

“Gross!” Newt laughed, almost losing his footing on the treadmill.

“Focus, A5!” The trainer yelled. “Another half mile!”

“Yes, sir.” Newt replied before glaring at you. “Thanks a lot.”

“How about I run it with you?” You offered. “I’d run it for you, but I have to follow protocol now.”

The desire to tell Thomas that you wanted out burned you every second you spent with him. The thought bounced around your head constantly, begging to roll off your tongue and be free. But after the way Teresa responded, you were scared that Thomas would give you the same response.

“Y/N?” Thomas noticed you weren’t paying attention one day during early leisure. You were laying in his bed with him, talking about things you missed. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you ever thought about what’s left? Like outside the Compound.” You said idly, drawing small circles on his chest.

“No..” He said gently, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you. “Why? Do you?”

“I want out, Thomas.” You admitted suddenly. “I want to get back into the real world. I don’t care if it’s turned to shit. I don’t care if I die within a few days up there.I just can’t be here anymore.”

“Where is this coming from?” He sat up slightly, now very concerned.

“My family. I wanna know if they’re alive. I want- I want fresh air and I want to feel the sun. I miss looking at the stars and feeling the trees. I want to feel the grass and sit on the roof to watch the sunset. I want to stare at the full moon just so I can see the craters. Thomas, I want my old life back, or as close as I can get to it.”

“It’s not safe up there.” He began carefully. He didn’t want to seem like he was dismissing you. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Thomas wanted to comfort you, remind you why you were with WICKED. He wanted to remind you that without WICKED, you wouldn’t have met. “Besides, it’s not all bad down here… You have me.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Maybe that’s all I need.” You said honestly, hoping to convince yourself that was true. But no matter how much you wanted it be enough, not even Thomas could replace the freedom you longed for.

You thought WICKED made the mistake of training you. You were in the best shape you could’ve been in, able to run farther than you ever thought possible. You were able to lift more weight than you ever thought you would’ve. They taught you basic self defense and weapons handling. Why a teenager needed to know how to shoot an assault rifle was beyond you, but the hand to hand was always fun.

You sat alone, watching the live footage from Group A’s maze. Group B had its first few entries and you watched those girls too, a tug in your chest knowing that could’ve been you. Group A had its first dangerous Griever encounter. Nick had placed himself in charge, and Alby had to kill one of the others. Janson called it “collateral damage”, said that all of the higher ups expected some deaths within the Maze and that’s why they were going to send so many. You called it a crime.

You watched your friends more than the others that you didn’t recognize. It was biased, you knew that. You knew your reports always contained those names, but Janson still put you on footage review and you had yet to be thrown in the Hole for insubordination so you figured it was okay.

You were making notes in their subject files when you came across something that scared you. Newt’s file said he wasn’t immune to the virus. Newt could catch the Flare. You quickly printed the screen and folded the paper, tucking it into your pocket. You knew there’d be a notice that a file was printed so you quickly left the room to find Thomas. You found him a couple doors down, watching the footage from other cameras, cameras from within the Mazes.

“Check this out.” He said, waving you over when he noticed you.

“I have something you need to see.” You said as you sat in the chair next to his. “Some of us aren’t safe.”

“Is this about wanting to leave again?” Thomas asked, gently placing a hand over yours. “Y/N, I thought-”

“It’s not about that!” You cut him off quickly. “Look.”

You pulled out the file and unfolded it, flattening it out against the table. You watched his eyes scan the paper, going wide when they saw the checked box that stood out to you too.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Thomas muttered.

“That’s why we can’t access our own files and why the three of us can’t get into each other’s.” You said, tapping your finger against the paper. “So we don’t know if we’re immune or not.”

“What do we do?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly.”But this, it changes things, Thomas. I think it’s time we find out what we’re really up against.”

“Yeah, maybe...”

“B2!” Janson’s voice boomed through the hall.

“Shit.” You sighed. You leaned over, leaving Thomas with a quick kiss before entering the hall.

You had the paper in your hand as you dropped to your knees, raising your hands to be above your head. The guards came to you quickly, locking your hands behind your back with cuffs and hauling you to your feet. They snatched the paper out of your grip and gave it to Janson.

“You lied to us.” You sneered. “You said we were safe! That we were all safe!”

“You are safe, B2.” Janson answered calmly as he looked over the paper he was handed. “This is the safest place for you. For all of you.”

“How many of them are at risk, hmm? How many don’t know they’re not immune!?”

“Take her to Sublevel 4.” Janson told the guards. Your heart stopped. “Prepare her for deployment.”

“What?” You panicked. “No, no, that’s not your call! No, please!” You screamed as you were being dragged down the hallway. “Please, don’t do this! I want to talk to Ava! I want to talk to Ms. Paige, please!”

But it was no use. The guards ignored your pleads. When you struggled in their grip, they only held you tighter, tight enough to leave a bruise you were sure. When you kicked out or used your feet to keep you out of a doorway, they yanked your legs down. They talked about sedating you to make it easier, but Janson said just to use whatever force they had to.

“What’s going on?” Teresa came out of her room and saw the fuss.

“You still think WICKED is good?” You scoffed, trying to free your arms.

“Where are they taking her?” You heard Thomas from behind you. “Director Janson, where is she going?”

“Don’t you worry about it, A2.” Janson said in a fake soothing voice. “She’ll be fine.”

“Thomas!” You shouted over your shoulder. “Thomas, I’m sorry! I love you!”

“Wait!” Thomas yelled to the guards, hurrying to try to catch you. “Hey, wait!”

“Hold on.” Janson said after a hesitation.

The guards stopped, roughly pulling you to turn you around. You came face to face with Thomas who only looked at you with sad eyes. You offered a smile, but you both knew there was no joy or even hope in that smile.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, leaning into his chest. His arms came around you instinctively and held you close. You cried lightly against him. “I’m so sorry. I tried to be good and follow the rules. I tried. I really did.”

“Hey, hey.” He said softly. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize, alright? Hey, look at me.” He leaned away enough so you could lift your head and look at him. He gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs, holding your face between his hands. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I’m being sent in, Thomas.” You confessed. His face dropped. “I won’t see you again.”

“We’ll figure this out, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead gently. “It’s alright.”

“There’s nothing we can do now.” You said sadly as you felt the guards grip your arms again. “Be safe, please. Don’t die, and don’t do anything stupid and end up like me.”

He chuckled sadly. “I always was the smarter one between us.”

You had been right about Sublevel 4. It was Hell. You kept in total isolation. You had no visitors. No psychiatrist, no trainer, no friends, no guards, not even a worker to bring your food. The tray was slid through a slot at the bottom of the door, and you were supposed to slide it back when you were done with it, even though you barely had it in you to eat. The thought of losing everything you had made you feel sick. It made you physically sick twice during your prep period, and you didn’t even get a doctor visit to check your health.

The Iso Chamber was the Hole, but brighter. There was a fluorescent light above you, and a camera in two of the four roof corners. There was a hospital bed on the back corner, a sink and toilet were behind a paper screen. There was nothing to keep you occupied so you slept often.

You lost track of how many days you were down there. You knew that it would come eventually, being sent into the Maze. You just hated the anticipation that sent in in isolation. You wanted it to be over with, just wipe your memories and send you in.

-

“You can’t blame yourself, A2.” Janson tried to console Thomas. “She knew the consequences.”

“Consequences?” Thomas laughed. “I thought WICKED is here to help, that me and every other kid in those Mazes are supposed to help. How are there consequences if this isn’t a punishment?”

“A2, listen.” Janson tried to explain.

“My name is Thomas.” Thomas muttered.

“Don’t exhibit the same behaviors B2 did.” He warned. “You’ll end up the same as her. You know us, A2. WICKED is good.”

-

“B2.” A voice boomed through the room. “Director Janson has requested to speak to you. Please, seem presentable.”

“Well I haven’t had a shower in however many days. I’d like to request access to the showers before the meeting please.” You replied towards one of the cameras.

“A staff member will be down momentarily to guide you.” The voice answered and you were left in silence once again.

After another eternity of silence, the door opened and Teresa stepped in. She offered a polite smile and motioned for you to follow her.

“How long have I been down here?” You asked casually, trying to ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You were feeling a bit anxious to see Thomas again, but part of you doubted it’d be possible.

“A week.” She replied casually, more pep in her step than you remembered. “I’ll take you to the showers so you can clean up and then I’ll take you to Director Janson’s office.”

“What does Rat Man want with me?”

“Director Janson-” She emphasized. “-wants to discuss your deployment with you.”

You hummed in response as she stopped at the door to the showers. You were allowed to clean up without supervision so you took your time, enjoying the warm water against your skin. You knew it’d most likely be the last real shower you’d have for a while, so you savored the moment. After you were cleaned and dressed in clothes left by the door, you followed Teresa to Janson’s office.

“Ah, B2!” He greeted, motioning for you to sit. “Come in. Have a seat. I hope your stay downstairs wasn’t too bad.”

“You deprived me of all human contact, mental stimulation, physical activity, and even showers for a week straight. It felt like I was losing my mind.” You replied angrily. “I was told you wanted to discuss my deployment.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I wanted to offer you one last chance. Ava is not thrilled about sending you in so soon and has ordered that you get an offer, one that you can’t refuse.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“We start over.” He said simply. “We noticed you started acting out worse recently, so we’ll just readjust you to before that.”

“You’re gonna wipe me..” You realized. You almost didn’t want to say it out of fear.

“A very minor wipe, but yes.”

“No.” You said with finality. “I’d rather lose everything than be a puppet.”

“I think A2 could convince you otherwise.” He commented, wagging his finger as if it was a new idea. Janson left the room and Thomas soon entered instead.

You jumped from your seat and ran into his open arms. He held you tight, so tight that you felt that you would fall apart as soon as he let go. You prayed that he wouldn’t because once he let go, you’d lose him.

“I’m scared.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah, me too.” He admitted.

“I’m gonna lose you.” You whined. “Thomas, I can’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N/N.”

“The worst part is that I- I- I won’t even know what I’ve lost.” You sobbed, your breath coming in heavy pants. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. And if I do, I won’t know it’s you. You won’t know it’s me. We- We’re gonna be strangers to each other.” You ranted, your voice broken and raspy.

“Don’t cry, alright?” He said gently, rubbing your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

“But how will I know it’s you? They’re taking our memories. I can’t- I can’t lose you too. Not after everything that’s been taken already. They can’t take you too!” You pouted. You knew better, but maybe if you said it enough times - if you said that they couldn’t take him away from you - that they wouldn’t.

“You won’t.” He cut in once your jumbled words slowed. “Hey, they won’t, alright? You mean everything to me, Y/N. You’ll know it’s me once you see me. Trust me.”

“I love you so much.” You whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Be safe, Thomas.”

He leaned down and kissed you softly. It wasn’t the kind of goodbye kiss you used to see in movies, the heated and passionate kiss. It was soft and gentle, promising and hinting that it wasn’t the end. His hands roamed intently, hoping to memorize the curves of your body one last time. You had your hands balled in his shirtfront, clutching to him as if he was the only thing you needed. And he was.

The guards tore you apart. Once you were away from him, you were numb. You were completely compliant. You answered every question, did every little task. You knew your fate was inevitable. Fate had come to collect.

The only thing that felt real was the fear. The panic and the utter blackness that surrounded you as you shot upward in a rickety metal box.