Season Two, Episode Fourteen: The Beginning Of The End

Things got worse. Before the week was over, the ugly purple veins had crept up all the way to Elizabeth's neck. She could constantly feel them burning their way through her body but she could do nothing to stop it. What frustrated her most, however, were the mood swings. She couldn't explain why, but there were moments she was hit with a sudden madness. Someone would say something, or someone would accidentally brush up against her, or she heard a sound she didn't like, and suddenly her mind was consumed with an anger that was getting frequently harder to control.

She didn't mean to lash out at her friends—at least, she didn't want to mean to. But the more the virus spread, the harder it was for her to see a reason to not get angry. For some reason, Tyn was even worse. The purple veins had gone up to his neck, and down to his opposite arm. Most of the time he was quiet, and walked around like a shell of his former self, and then suddenly, like Elizabeth, he would go into a violent rage. Where Elizabeth was able to control herself, he found himself slipping. He was currently serving time in the Slammer for attacking some of the younger Gladers. Afterwards he had cried and apologized profusely, but Nick and Alby both agreed he had to be contained.

Elizabeth stared at the brilliant color that was slowly taking over her life. She touched the delicate skin at the inside of her wrist, and a jolt of pain traveled up the length of the disease. She wondered if this was what her mother was talking about, when she wrote that letter. It was certainly what Elizabeth had meant in her journal, writing about who was immune and who was not. That was another reason she was afraid. Newt was not immune. Had she already infected him? He kept insisting that she hadn't, but when she wasn't feeling angry, she was feeling guilty.

She couldn't run to stave the madness, because her rib was either broken or fractured. She couldn't cook because her hands were infected. She couldn't shower, because the feeling of fresh water against her skin was so repulsive. She didn't want to be alone, but at the same time she couldn't stand being in the presence with anyone for too long in the fear she would eventually hurt them. She sent Newt away every night, but was secretly comforted by his stubborn insistence on sleeping outside her hut.

The clock was ticking, and she knew it. She wanted so badly for it to stop, but the odds had been against her from the very beginning.

On one of their last nights together around the campfire, Alby suggested they swap stories and ask would you rather questions like they used to. Most of them imagined they were somewhere else. Gally pretended he was camping somewhere, under a sky full of stars and the knowledge that he had been the one to hike out here. P.F. saw himself running in the Maze with Dalton beside him, teasing him about his hair or something normal. Chris made believe it was a night on the town, and the Gladers were girls instead of guys. In the Slammer, Tyn thought about a family. He didn't remember what his family looked like, so he gave them their names and personalities. Newt saw himself with his friends, and with Elizabeth, but he wasn't quite drawn into the illusion as much as the others.

"You know what?" Frypan said suddenly.

"What?" Zart asked.

"I just realized I never finished my drink."

"Just grab another one?" Snow said, confused.

"Nah, I meant the drink, drink!" Frypan stood up and walked away to the back of the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later dragging a large jug across the ground. "Anybody want some?"

"I'll pass, thank you," Waldo said. He was the only one. Even the youngest of them dipped their cup into the strong-smelling liquid. Gally was reminded of the night Elizabeth got drunk. He looked at her, and then at the drink and thought: 'the hell with it,' and grabbed his own drink. There was the sound of cups clinking together as some of the guys proposed mock toasts, and then a bunch of gagging sounds. Gally downed his in one huge gulp and instantly regretted it. He hated the taste of the stuff. The only good thing about it was the lazy burn in his throat.

"Careful, Gals," Elizabeth chided, swirling her drink and smirking at him. "You might get drunk."

He glared at her and watched as she she took a sip and made a disgusted face.

"Sorry. I meant Gally," she said.

He grabbed another cupful and took another swig, his eyes never leaving hers. "Don't call me that," he said, his voice raspy from the alcohol.

"I didn't ever mean anything by it," she mumbled, her eyes flashing with the all-too-familiar crazy of the Griever-sickness.

"I didn't mean—" Gally cursed and kicked the ground. He didn't know how to tell her that the truth was, he preferred her to call him Gals over Gally. Obviously he didn't want anyone else calling him that. Only her. He was still trying to come up with something when Elizabeth slapped his drink out of his hand and growled at him.

"Listen," she said. He was surprised to hear her voice was still as calm as before. When he looked closer, there were tears in her eyes; she seemed to be more sad than angry, like during one of her episodes.

"What?" Gally asked, a little annoyed by her slap, but smart enough to know there wasn't any malice behind it.

"You're the only one, Gally," Elizabeth said. She was staring at him intensely, her eyes shining in the darkness. It was kind of eerie. He didn't think she was drunk—she'd only had a couple of sips.

"You have to let me go, Gally." Elizabeth grabbed his arm. "I can't stay like this much longer, and Newt…" her voice trailed off. "Newt would not be able to do this."

His heart beating faster, Gally grabbed her hand with his. "Don't say it," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't do this, Elizabeth."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. Gally looked around, but the other Gladers hadn't noticed their conversation. Not even Newt was hovering like he usually was. He was sitting at the fire .with Alby and Minho, and when he caught Gally's eye he nodded slowly.

"You're like a brother to me," Elizabeth. "I love you."

"I love you too, Elizabeth," Gally said. He meant it. He had never said it out loud, but she was like a sister to him, too. Which was why she couldn't possibly ask him to—

"I'm not asking you to kill me," Elizabeth said, reading his expression. She stared past his shoulder at the closed doors of the Maze. "I'm asking you to let me go."

He saw where she was looking, and then he knew what it was he wanted him to do.

"That's a stupid shucking idea. There's no way we're closing the doors with you alone…" he couldn't finish the sentence. His throat closed and he shook her in frusteration.

"I would not be alone. Tyn would be with me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," Elizabeth sighed. "You're strong, Gally. Maybe stronger than anyone I know, and I know you know this is what has to happen. Otherwise someone will end up having to kill us."

"Newt will never agree to it." He looked again at the blonde boy by the fire.

"Nick would. Alby would," she gave him a weak smile. "I know you don't think so, but you have an air of authority about you. The others listen to you; it would be easy enough to convince them, anyway."

He stared at her. She stared at him back. He didn't want to cry, but he could feel a surge of emotions just below the surface. He turned away.

"I don't want to," he said.

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "I know," she poured the contents of her cup on the ground by Gally's feet, "but you will."

Tyn—in a moment of sanity—agreed with her plan. So did Nick and Alby. They decided not to tell Newt at first even though in these circumstances he was usually part of the leadership. Tyn was surprised that Elizabeth was the one to suggest it.

"He's already sleeping poorly. This would only make things worse for him," she explained.

"Oh, so this is supposed to be your way of protecting him?" Tyn asked. "How does that make sense?"

"Believe me, Tyn, I don't like this any more than you do." Elizabeth got angry at his response which made Tyn angrier.

"There's no way he'd agree to this, and you're too much of a coward to admit it to him!" Tyn pushed her and she gasped, clutching at her ribs. She gritted her teeth and hissed at him through the pain.

"Bastard. You did that on purpose."

"Of course I did," Tyn snarled back. A rush of blood went through his head and the familiar headache that always accompanied an onset of uncontrollable actions caused him to tear at his shirt. Alby grabbed his arms and Nick stood in front of Elizabeth with his hands out to placate her. She hadn't made any other movements, but she was breathing heavily and there was an unnatural fire in her blue eyes. He didn't want to hurt his friends, but the virus was stronger than them. It was stronger than any of them.

"I'm going to tell Newt," Tyn said. He didn't fight against Alby's hold. As if on cue, the devil himself walked in.

"Tell me what?" Newt asked. He frowned at the scene before him. "Is there something going on I should know about?" he looked at Alby. He looked hurt to be left out. Tyn peered over his shoulder to smirk at Elizabeth. She glared at him and stomped on Nick's foot.

"Don't you dare," she said. Her voice had a dark undertone to it—something he'd never heard before. If he'd been in his right mind, Tyn might have been startled. Nick yelped and stepped backwards, and Elizabeth fell into Newt's arms. He wasn't ready for her, but he managed to catch her before she hit the ground, anyway.

"Elizabeth!" he cried. Tyn watched them and turned away in disgust when Elizabeth brought a hand behind Newt's head and pulled her face towards him for a chaste kiss, her eyes on Tyn the whole time. What a shucking creep.

"I will kill you," Elizabeth said. Whatever traces of her normal self may have been there before were completely gone now.

"Not if I kill you first!" Tyn closed his eyes and felt more pain in his head. "I'm sorry!"

"Come on," Alby started dragging him out of the hut. He tried shoving himself away, tried kicking a rock up at his face, tried clawing at his arms, apologizing all the while.

"I'm sorry!" he said, biting Alby's arm. The other boy grunted and smacked Tyn upside the head.

"I'm sorry!" he said, dazed from the sudden hit. He struggled to break free some more, the painful thudding in his ears and arms and chest getting louder and louder.

"I'm sorry," he said when Alby practically threw him into the slammer, closed the door, and locked it. Somewhere along the way he'd dropped his glasses, so he couldn't see Alby's face clearly, but when he said: "I know," he could hear the anguish in his voice.

They had two days. Despite the constant pain in her chest from her ribs and the sting in her arm where the Griever had stung her, she forced herself to stay standing. She said her goodbyes to Minho first. He came back with the rest of the runners and she cornered him by the weapons. When he saw her coming he tensed up and she saw the grip on his own sword tighten.

"It's me, Minho," she said. He visibly relaxed.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I just wanted to say thank you for everything you've done."

"Why?" Minho sounded confused. "Did something happen?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Something already happened, Minho. Something happens all the time." She could tell he didn't fully understand where she was going with this, but he nodded at her all the same.

"You're welcome," he said.

After talking to Minho, she went to the gardens and worked with Zart, Snow, Newt, and the rest of the Track-hoes. She had almost forgotten how much she loved working with her hands like this. She was glad she had been given the time she'd had in the Maze. Despite all the horror it encapsulated she believed she had been changed for the better. She remembered her old life before, and she had never been so happy or felt so accepted for who she was.

When Newt smiled at her with his beautiful mouth and when the sun lit up those boyish freckles, she didn't feel scared of the future. They may not get a life together but she knew he would never forget her. The ending felt bittersweet, but it could have been far worse. She thought of Ric, and how he had been murdered by the hands of one of his Glade mates, Doug. She thought of Hank who was eaten by a Griever, and Dalton who had probably suffered a similar fate for the sake of saving his friends.

The day faded into night, and Alby released Tyn from the Slammer to enjoy one last meal. Afterwards, the Gladers gathered in front of the Maze doors. Some Gladers didn't know what was going on, but others like Nick and Gally knew what was coming next. Elizabeth could tell Newt suspected it had something to do with her and Tyn, but he didn't protest. He held her hand as they walked to the wall and rubbed his thumb along her knuckles.

"What the shuck is going on?" Chris asked, crossing his arms.

Nick didn't meet anyone's eyes when he addressed them. "Newt," he said softly.

Elizabeth could feel the quickening of Newt's pulse in her hand and could see his jaw clenching. She looked around at the other boys and was grateful when they smiled back at her.

"I love you," she said out loud.

"I love you, too," Newt replied out of habit. She was talking to him, but she was talking to all of them. She was talking to her past self and to her mother and to Thomas and Theresa and even W.I.C.K.E.D. She was talking to Gally and Leo and Tyn and Frypan and Nick and all the rest of them. She was talking to the Maze. She was talking to herself. All these moments, all these people and everything that had happened that had led up to this point had made who she was.

My life has not been a loss, she thought. I haven't missed out on anything. In fact, she very nearly considered herself blessed to have been part of the trials, because in the real world, with the Flare it was nothing like this.

"We have to let them go," Nick continued. He didn't have to say anything else; the others erupted upon the interpretation of his words.

"You dirty shank! We can't just throw them into the Maze! You know what that means!"

"This is so messed up!"

"Shuck, no!"

Elizabeth squeezed Newt's hand and released it. He reached for her but she evaded his grasp and Gally and Alby grabbed his shoulders.

"Elizabeth, no…" Newt's voice was so full of grief tears welled in Elizabeth's eyes.

"You will be okay, Newt," she said. "You will be okay." She turned to meet Alby's eyes, and then Gally's.

"I'll miss you," Gally said, his voice cracking in an unusual show of emotion. Elizabeth smiled at him and pressed a hand against her collarbone which had started to throb.

"I know," she said.

Tyn was already on the Maze's side of the doors when she came to stand beside him. Nick and Minho handed them each a Griever-sword and they took it wordlessly. The Gladers were in a screaming riot of protest, but no one attempted to stop them because they knew that in the end this was for the best. Newt was sobbing and Zart was sobbing and Elizabeth thought Gally might have been sobbing as well. The sun set behind the walls of the Maze, casting long shadows over the Glade and the familiar screech of the doors indicated their closing.

Newt found Elizabeth's eyes and through the tears watched as she looked back at him, tears streaming down her own face. She stared back and he could feel the cracking dam behind his heart solidify.

Be strong, she told him. Be brave and live. Live for me.

I love you, he told her.

And she smiled at him.

And the doors shut.

And she was gone.

THE END

Epilogue

Where am I? was his first thought. What is happening? Was his second. The world was moving beneath him; he could hear the grind of metal against metal. He fell down and his shoulder hit the side of something hard. It was completely dark, but the longer his eyes remained open, the more they adjusted to his surroundings. Was he in an elevator? He didn't remember how he'd gotten here, and straining himself to think back, he realized he didn't remember much of anything.

Harsh sounds of pulleys and chains echoed throughout the tight space. The compartment swayed with each grating jolt, making him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to slap his hands against the wall and make a ruckus. Instead, he sat there alone in the dark, waiting. At least he retained one piece of knowledge about himself.

My name is Thomas, he thought.

*Special Author's Note:

You're probably a little disappointed, but this had to be the ending. Elizabeth is not canon; she is not in the books, and as this is a replacement to the prequel, I wanted it to feel as if she had been an actual character in the Glade's history. Since she doesn't make a reappearance in the series, something must have happened to her. (I hope I'm not talking through my hat - it makes sense in my head.) As for my original characters, we can also assume that they also were eventually lost.

Most of the names I took from the books, except for the following, whom I added:

Elizabeth (Queen Elizabeth)

Louis (for Louis Pasteur)

Snow (for John Snow)

Marco (for Marco Polo)

Chris (for Christopher Columbus)

Dalton (for John Dalton)

Damon (for Democritus)

Stoy (for Leo Tolstoy)

Waldo (for Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Leo (for Leonardo Davinchi)

Tyn (for John Tyndall)

PF (for Pierre Fauchard)