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Me watching the Death Cure in 2018: ♪I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory♪

-✼-

The first thing I asked was, "Where am I?"

My surroundings were foreign. The ceiling wasn't like that of the dorm we were in before, or the one in my hospital room, which caused me to panic. My heart, already thudding hard from whatever I had just experienced, only seemed to beat even more fiercely.

"She up?" a familiar voice questioned somewhat loudly. Newt's eyebrows raised as he looked in that direction.

"Yeah, she's awake," he replied. "And she seems fine."

"Welcome to the land of the living, hermana!" the same voice exclaimed, which automatically led me to recognize the source as Jorge. Why the hell was Jorge with us?

"Can someone tell me where I am?" I questioned in a slightly harsh tone. My head hurt faintly from the intense things I had just seen, causing me to be more irritable than usual.

"You're in a Berg," Brenda's voice responded. "Don't ask too many questions- we don't really know what just happened, either."

A Berg?

"Hold up." I sat up quickly, but my skull pulsed with pain, causing my hand to fly up and massage my temples. Newt automatically reached out to support me in case my arm gave out. "Whoa, okay. Ow. How'd we get here?"

"Ah..." Jorge chuckled uneasily from the pilot's chair. "Let's not focus on the details."

"It was awesome!" Minho exclaimed loudly, sending another stab of agony to my brain. "We had this huge battle, and then we tried to find you but we got lost, and then it turned out that this other guy was on our side, and then he brought you here, and then--"

"Minho," Newt cut him off sternly. "I think you're about to make her head explode."

Minho shrugged. "It was cool. If only you had been awake for it."

My face screwed up in pain again at the flood of information that had been thrown at me, just like Newt had advised against. I was about to ask another question, but figured I was in too much pain to care enough about the response I'd get.

"Wh..." I trailed off, my eyes blinking softly and trailing around the Berg. "Where's Thomas?"

Before anyone could answer, I took the time to carefully analyze my surroundings. The Berg was much less nice than the one I had been in before. A few ragtag couches that looked close to falling apart were pushed up against one of the walls, blankets carelessly thrown across them. I wasn't sure what room we were in or why; all that I really cared about was where my brother was.

"Snoozin' over there." Minho pointed behind me. I turned around to see his sleeping form sprawled out along a cot, limbs awkwardly positioned.

"He got electrocuted," Newt explained in a gentle tone, "but he'll be okay."

"He what?" I demanded sharply, which only brought another burst of pain to my skull. I ignored it and searched Newt's eyes to silently ask him for an explanation.

"Those Launchers really do hurt," Brenda half-joked with a sympathetic grin on her face. "I got nailed with one, too."

I winced. "Ouch."

But Brenda's small piece of information made me wonder what exactly went down while I was unconscious, and how I managed to sleep through the whole thing. Whatever medicine they gave me must have--

"Shuck!" My entire body tensed immediately, a cold spike of fear piercing my heart. I felt my jaw practically unhinge. The people around me jumped at the sudden loudness.

"What?" Jorge asked somewhat irritably.

"I never got the results," I realized with dread filling me quickly, enough to make my body feel like my blood had been replaced with lead. "I don't know if I'm immune or not."

"It'll be alright," Newt assured me, patting my shoulder comfortingly. "Whatever it is, you'll be fine."

If only it were that easy to believe him. I spent the next hour and a half in silence as the others rested, trying to ease the pain still making my head throb and also detangle the nerves that were coiling like mismatched wires in my stomach.

Newt and Minho fell asleep easily. They were each sleeping on chairs that looked close to falling apart but still extremely comfortable, equally as shredded blankets draped over them. Minho's mouth was open and soft snores came out with every breath of his. Newt, looking like a kitten, appeared the most at ease I'd seen him in a while as he slept.

Since Jorge had gone off somewhere else to sleep, Brenda was the only other person awake. She was fluttering around Thomas' bedside while trying not to be obvious about it. I, however, saw right through her. It was obvious she had feelings for my brother.

"So," I began quietly as to not wake the others, "I missed a big battle, huh?"

Brenda scoffed but had a small, amused grin on her face. "Dunno how you did, but you managed to sleep through the whole thing. Granted, the person did manage to keep you from the worst of it by smuggling you in here first. Consider yourself lucky; we almost didn't make it."

I wasn't sure what part of her explanation to focus on. What exactly happened while I was asleep, who 'the person' was, or how they smuggled me in the Berg?

"You know who it was, right?" I ended up asking. "Whoever brought me here, that is."

Brenda shook her head. "All I know is that it had to have been someone strong enough to carry you all this way from Medical. That, or it was two people- like I said, I don't know."

I huffed but ultimately decided to drop the subject. If she was also in the dark, then there was no point in pushing her for more.

"Thanks, Brenda." I offered a small grin. Maybe, just maybe, I had been wrong not to trust her initially. "I'm going to go and try to sleep off this stupid headache."

She chuckled and nodded, then continued anxiously pacing around Thomas' cot. I headed toward Newt's armchair with a sudden wave of fatigue hitting me. It seemed that whatever had put me under hadn't done anything to let my body actually rest, and the soft cushion of the chair enveloped my body as soon as I eased into it.

Newt, still sleeping, immediately pulled me closer to him until my back was to his front. The fluffy arm of the chair substituted for our pillow. Although I didn't have any of the blanket, his arms circled around me, providing warmth from his body heat. It was enough to have me falling asleep within minutes.

-/-

It was a good thing that my headache was gone when I woke up, or else I wouldn't have been able to get through our meeting.

Oh, excuse me- our Gathering.

Half of it was heated arguments that led to nowhere, Minho wouldn't stop giving Brenda dirty looks, and Jorge kept lapsing into angry tirades of Spanish. The six of us were extremely bad at negotiations; compromises were practically out of the question. It was only a matter of who had an idea that was good enough to shut everyone up.

In the end, we decided to go to Denver, Colorado. Brenda explained that was where the other Gladers had fled to - because apparently they took off without us - and it was a safe place for Immunes. The Berg would be landed at a private airport and the excuse was that they were Immunes looking for government transport jobs. Once in the city, they'd be tested for Immunity before being granted full access. That was why Newt and I had to stay behind.

After a quick meal, Jorge went back to pilot the Berg with the declaration that everyone should take naps. Again.

"All this sleeping better come in handy," Minho grumbled as he flopped back into his recliner.

"You complaining?" Thomas questioned. "Those chairs look shucking comfortable."

"Too bad your sorry butt doesn't get one," the Keeper gloated with a grin. "Now shut your mouth- I'm trying to sleep."

Newt rolled his eyes and got us both situated in a comfortable sleeping position. Maybe it was the softness of the chair or the fact that I could hear his heartbeat steadily thumping, but something made me fall right asleep.

And I dreamed. The memory itself wasn't...important, so to say, but I still clung onto it like a lifeline. A W.I.C.K.E.D woman was leading me into my bedroom for the first time. I saw the all-white color scheme and cringed at the brightness. When I asked where Ste- Thomas was, she did not reply.

As always when I had memories, my eyelids snapped open rudely when I woke. My entire body gave a jolt as well and accidentally woke Newt up. He gave a sleepy whine and reached up to rub his eyelids.

"Sorry," I whispered sheepishly.

"S'fine," he mumbled, words slurring together before he yawned. I looked around the room to see that Thomas was awake and staring blankly ahead at the wall. My eyebrows creased in concern.

"Thomas?" I called. "You okay?"

His eyes snapped back into focus and he jumped a bit. But he nodded, sitting up on his cot and stretching his arms above his head. His raven hair was messy from sleeping so much.

"Time to get up already?" Minho groaned without cracking an eyelid open. "But I'm so tired."

"We just took two naps," Newt pointed out, then yawned a second time. "I think we've gotten enough sleep."

After we managed to drag Minho out of his chair, we also retrieved Brenda from another room in the Berg. Thomas then called another Gathering. He ordered us to group some chairs near the cockpit so Jorge could listen in as well.

"Okay," he began once we were all attentive, "I need you guys to promise you'll keep your mouths shut until I'm done."

Minho held up three fingers with a smirk. "Scout's honor."

Thomas' eyes drifted along the rest of us, not moving to the next person until we nodded in agreement to stay quiet. He then blew out a breath of air from his mouth and launched into a tale.

Apparently, ever since after he left the Glade, he'd been getting snippets of memories as he slept. He had quite the collection- being taken by W.I.C.K.E.D, training with Teresa, and the start of their telepathy. He rattled on and on about everything he could remember and was then silent.

"You think it's a twin thing?" Jorge suggested. "I mean, it can't be a coincidence that you two are the only ones remembering."

"But I've always had it," I pointed out, secretly wondering if maybe he was right. It did seem strange that my brother and I were the only ones we knew to be regaining our memories. "For Thomas, it's been since his Changing."

"Whatever it is, it makes me hate W.I.C.K.E.D more," Minho grumbled. "Good thing we left, and I hope I never have to see Teresa's shuck face again."

I rolled my eyes.

Newt, who had been silent up until that point, spoke up. "Brenda's a bloody princess compared to that know-it-all."

"Um...thanks?" Brenda replied unsurely.

"This has nothing to do with Teresa," I interjected, "so can you please stop?"

Minho gave a small nod to me before seemingly blurting out, "When did you change?"

"What?" Brenda questioned.

"When did you become so shuck crazy against W.I.C.K.E.D? You've worked for them, you did all those things they wanted you to do in the Scorch. You were all ready to help them put that mask on our faces and mess with us all over again. When and how did you come so strongly over to our side?"

Brenda sighed; her voice came out laced with anger. "I have never been on their side. Never. I have always disagreed with how they operate – but what could I ever do on my own? Or even with Jorge? I've done what I needed to do to survive. But then I lived through the Scorch with you guys it made me realize... Well, it made me realize that we have a chance."

Thomas quickly changed the subject. "Brenda, do you think W.I.C.K.E.D will start forcing us to do things? Start messing with us, manipulating us, whatever?"

She shrugged. "That's why we need to find Hans. I can only guess what W.I.C.K.E.D will do. Every other time I've seen them control someone with the device in their brain, that person has been close and under observation. Since you guys are running and they have no way of seeing exactly what you're doing, they might not want to risk it."

"Why not?" Newt asked. "Why don't they just make a stab ourselves in the leg or chain ourselves to a chair until they find us?"

Very optimistic.

"Because something could go wrong," I told him patiently. "Remember- we're still valuable to them, and they need us alive."

Newt muttered something that sounded like," Need them alive."

"Dylan is right," Brenda agreed. "That's why going to Denver is a must."

Thomas nodded firmly. "We are going and that's that. And I say we wait a hundred years before we have another meeting to talk about stuff."

"Good that," Minho asserted. "I'm with you."

Everyone looked at Newt and I.

"We're Cranks," the blond said. "Doesn't matter what we think."

"We can get you two into the city," Brenda said, ignoring him. "At least long enough to have Hans work on your heads. We'll just be really careful to keep you away fr--"

Newt stood abruptly and punched the wall behind his chair. "First of all, it doesn't matter if I have this thing in my brain- I'm gonna be past the buggin' Gone before too long anyway. And I don't wanna die knowing I ran around a city full of healthy people knowing I infected them."

Thomas appeared troubled. His hand was shoved into his pocket. However, he didn't say a word, and neither did anybody else.

A shadow passed over Newt's face. "Well, don't hurt yourselves tryin' to talk me into it. We all know W.I.C.K.E.D's fancy plan isn't going to work, and I wouldn't want it to. Not much to live for on this piece-of-klunk planet. I'll stay on the Berg while you guys go into the city."

With that, he turned and stomped away into the common area. I immediately got up to follow him around the corner.

"Hey," I called to him softly. However, when he continued to flee, I added more sharpness to my voice. "Hey."

Newt begrudgingly stopped and turned around. His mouth was pulled into a sour frown, expression still clouded with anger. "What?"

"There is still hope," I said more calmly as I took a step forward.

He scoffed. "Easy for you to say- you have a chance at being Immune." After a beat of tense silence, he continued, "You should go with them."

"No," I protested with a shake of my head.

"Dylan," he said, desperation lurking behind his tone, "you have a chance. There's still hope for you."

I felt tears sting at the corner of my eyes. It sounded like he was giving up, accepting to wait around until his brain fully succumbed to the disease inside of it. He wanted to stop fighting.

"There's hope for us," I pressed with a splinter in my voice.

But to my surprise, he merely shook his head. "Not anymore."

gif is newt *heart eyes*

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this turned out to be more depressing than i planned for it to be, but it sort of just happened.

good news: i'm back! it took me forever to write this because i skipped so much of the book, but i'm so glad i finally finished. woo!!

questions:

-will dylan choose go into the city or stay behind?

-what do you think newt meant by "not anymore"?

-have you seen dylan o'brien and his freakin' disney prince hair on set for american assassin?

-how many of you watch teen wolf? what do you think of the new season?

i'll try to get another update published asap!!

-kristyn