( 27. the unimaginable)

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THE METAL drain lid scraped against concrete as Gally heaved it open. Everyone gathered around, peering down into the darkness below. The smell that wafted up made Ellie's nose wrinkle.

"Well, that's absolutely disgusting," she muttered, taking a step back as Gally lowered a ladder into the opening.

The reality of separation was setting in as they prepared to split up. While Gally secured the ladder, Thomas pulled away from the group, but Ellie caught his arm before he could move too far. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent one last time.

"Be careful down there," she whispered against his jacket. "I mean it this time."

Thomas's arms tightened around her. "Ellie, about before, leaving camp without telling you—"

"Forget it," she cut him off, pulling back to meet his eyes. "It's forgiven. Just... come back, okay?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

"Be careful, Thomas," Jorge called out as the three boys prepared to descend.

Frypan stepped forward, his expression serious. "Gally, take care of these two," he said, nodding toward Newt and Thomas.

"Yeah," Gally replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

One by one, they disappeared into the darkness below. The sound of their footsteps on the metal ladder echoed up until even that faded away.

Ellie sank down near the drain entrance, her eyes fixed on the dark hole that had swallowed their friends. The waiting game had begun again.

Brenda settled beside her, studying her profile in the dim light. "You love him, don't you?" she asked quietly.

Ellie's eyes widened as she turned to Brenda, caught off guard by the direct question. Before she could formulate a denial, Jorge's warm laugh interrupted.

"Oh, hermana," he said, shaking his head with a knowing smile, "I think you do know."

Ellie turned back to the drain opening, but couldn't hide the flush creeping up her neck.

୨ৎ

The secluded room in Lawrence's compound felt suffocating. Ellie leaned against a concrete pillar, watching Thomas pace the floor like a caged animal.

"No," Thomas said for what felt like the hundredth time, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "There's gotta be another way."

Gally pushed himself off the wall, his scarred face twisting with impatience. "Like what? You've seen the building. She is our only way in."

"You really think she's gonna help us?" Thomas's voice dripped with skepticism.

"I don't plan on asking for her permission," Gally replied coldly.

Brenda straightened up from her position near Jorge. "Am I missing something here?" Her voice cut through the tension like a knife. "This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?"

"I like her," Gally said, nodding at Brenda with something like approval.

Ellie pushed off from her pillar, anger bubbling up in her chest. "Brenda's right. We can't trust her. She handed us over to WICKED without a second thought. She's the reason we're in this mess."

The room fell silent for a moment. Then Newt stepped forward, and something in his movement made Ellie's instincts flare with warning. His face was different – harder.

"What is this really about, Thomas?" His voice carried an edge that made everyone turn. "Are you having second thoughts because of her?" His eyes burned with an intensity that seemed almost feverish. "Because this has obviously never been just about rescuing Minho. Has it?"

Thomas turned, genuine confusion written across his features. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Teresa." Newt spat the name like it was poison. "She's the only reason that Minho's even missing in the first place." He advanced on Thomas, his movements jerky and unpredictable. "Now we finally have an opportunity to get him back. And what? You're hesitating because of her? After everything she did to us?" His voice rose with each step. "Because deep down inside you still care about her, don't you? Just admit it."

"Newt, I..." Thomas started, but never finished.

What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Newt lunged forward with frightening speed, grabbing Thomas by his jacket and slamming him against the wall. The impact echoed through the room, making everyone jump.

"Don't lie to me!" Newt shouted, his face inches from Thomas's, spittle flying. "Don't lie to me!"

"Newt, stop!" Ellie rushed forward without thinking, trying to pull him back. Newt's arm swung out reflexively, catching her off guard. She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

The room froze. Newt blinked rapidly, looking first at his hands still gripping Thomas's jacket, then at Ellie on the floor. Horror washed over his features as reality seemed to sink in. He stepped back from Thomas as if burned, his hands shaking.

"Sorry," he muttered, voice trembling. "I'm sorry." He turned and fled the room, clutching his arm to his chest.

Thomas immediately went to Ellie, dropping to his knees beside her. "Are you okay?" His hands hovered over her, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," she assured him, though her shoulder throbbed where she'd hit the ground. "No broken bones." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "But check on him. Something ain't right with him. I've never seen him like this."

Thomas pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before following after Newt. The room remained silent in their absence, everyone processing what they'd just witnessed.

୨ৎ

The minutes crawled by like hours until they finally returned. Newt made straight for Ellie, his face a mask of shame and something deeper, something terrifying.

"Ellie," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "About before... I'm so sorry. I would never..." He trailed off, looking at her shoulder where she'd hit the ground. His hands were trembling. "I would never hurt you. Not on purpose. You know that, right?"

Ellie turned to him, really looking at him now. His face was pale, sheened with sweat, and his eyes – those kind eyes that had helped her through so many dark days in the Maze – were filled with a mixture of shame and fear.

Without another word, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing what he'd been hiding. Ellie's breath caught in her throat. Dark veins spread up his arm like twisted branches, the skin around them mottled and angry. She'd seen this before – in the Scorch, in the streets outside. The Flare.

"Oh, Newt," she whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. She could feel him trembling against her.

"I don't want to become one of them," he whispered against her shoulder, so quietly she almost missed it. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"You won't," she said firmly, tightening her hold on him. "We won't let that happen. Thomas will get Teresa, and we'll figure this out. We've survived everything else they've thrown at us. We'll survive this too."

When they finally pulled apart, Newt managed a weak smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "When did you become the optimistic one?"

"Someone has to be," she replied, trying to keep her voice light despite the fear gripping her heart. "And you and Thomas are too busy being dramatic."

That got a small laugh out of him, though it quickly turned into a cough. Ellie pretended not to notice how he wiped blood from his lips afterward.

Thomas approached them, his expression heavy. "I talked to Gally. We're going to get Teresa."

Ellie pulled back from Newt, forcing an eye roll despite the fear gripping her heart. "Just keep her away from me, otherwise I might punch her." She tried for levity, but her voice shook slightly.

Thomas managed a weak laugh, touching her cheek briefly before turning to leave with Gally back through the drain.

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