Past Lives (TMR Fanfic)

By saraya925

5.5K 118 164

(NOTE: CHAPTERS ARE CURRENTLY BEING EDITED) In which Teresa wasn't the first girl to come up in the box... *T... More

Intro
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32

Chapter 14

88 4 0
By saraya925


Grace is just, weakness

Or so I've been told

I've been cold, I've been merciless

But the blood on my hands scares me to death

Maybe I'm waking up today

-



As Clint wrapped his arm up carefully to keep the wound from opening again, Emma busied herself with cleaning up the mess Ben had made around the room. 

Broken glass, bloodstained cloth, and scattered supplies littered the floor. She worked quietly, trying to focus on the task, but her mind was a whirl of uneasy thoughts. Every scrape of glass on the floor, every creak of the walls, seemed too loud in the silence that had settled over the Homestead.

Suddenly, Zart burst through the door, out of breath and wide-eyed. "We found Ben," he gasped, his chest heaving. "He tried to kill the Greenie."

Clint cursed under his breath, pushing himself up despite his injury. Emma froze, her heart plummeting. 

"What?" she whispered, but there was no time for answers. Zart motioned for them to follow, and they quickly headed out of the Homestead.

Outside, the Glade was eerily quiet. 

Emma's eyes darted around, spotting a large crowd of Gladers gathered in a tight circle near the forest edge. 

As they moved closer, Emma's breath hitched, she saw Gally and the builders pulling Ben off of Thomas, who was on the ground, clearly shaken but alive. Newt was standing beside Thomas, his jaw clenched tight, his expression unreadable.

"Shuck," Zart muttered under his breath, and they quickened their pace toward the crowd.

Emma's heart raced; her thoughts consumed by worry for Thomas. She pushed through the circle of Gladers until she reached him, her voice soft but filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, his eyes focused on Ben who was trying to free himself from their grip to get to Thomas.

Emma barely heard him as Ben continued to thrash in Gally's grip, his voice wild and frantic. 

"I saw him! I saw him!" Ben screamed, his eyes wide with madness, as if seeing something no one else could.

His words sent a chill down Emma's spine. 

Had he dreamt of Thomas as well?

Alby arrived on the scene, his face a storm of frustration and sadness. He sighed deeply, clearly overwhelmed. 

"Take him to the Pit," Alby ordered grimly, his voice heavy with guilt. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable as he watched his once-close friend, someone he'd been trying to help for the past month, get dragged away. 

Emma could see the weight of it all bearing down on Alby, he'd known Ben for as long as anyone here, and now he had to order him to be locked up.

The Gladers were restless, exchanging uneasy glances, murmuring amongst themselves. Everyone seemed on edge as if the very fabric of the Glade had shifted. The tension was thick, almost suffocating, and it was clear no one knew what to make of what had just happened.

Alby, clearly at the end of his patience, raised his voice above the murmurs. 

"There'll be a meeting this afternoon," he announced, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. Emma caught the way his gaze lingered on her for just a second longer than it should have a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. It was enough to make her stomach twist. 

She already knew what it meant, Gally had probably already told Alby.

Alby waved his hand dismissively. "Get back to work," he ordered, his tone harsher than usual. The crowd dispersed reluctantly, but Emma could feel the eyes on her as people headed back to their tasks. 

The unease lingered.

She turned to head toward the gardens with Zart, but Newt stepped in front of her, his face full of concern. "Hey," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"I think you should talk to Thomas. He looks... lost. More than usual." He didn't say it harshly, his worry was genuine, and it showed in the softness of his tone.

Emma looked over at Thomas, who stood a little ways off, staring blankly at the ground, still shaken from the attack. She bit her lip, unsure. Her mind was spinning, stuck on the upcoming meeting, on Gally's accusations, on the very real fear of being banished because of everything that had happened.

Newt's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Just keep him company until the meeting. He could use someone to talk to, someone to... I dunno, help him feel less alone in all this."

She hesitated, her thoughts racing, but Newt's steady gaze was reassuring. He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "It'll be alright."

Emma gave a small nod, though her chest was tight with anxiety. She was about to say something, but Zart called out for Newt to help him with something across the way. 

Newt shot her an encouraging smile. "I'll see you at the meeting, yeah?"

"Yeah," Emma muttered, watching him jog off toward Zart. But as she turned back toward Thomas, the weight of it all settled on her again.

She led Thomas up to the watchtower, her steps slow and deliberate as her mind raced with what she was about to tell him. The two of them sat down, their legs dangling off the edge, watching the Gladers below.

Thomas shifted uncomfortably beside her, watching the Gladers move about their tasks like nothing had just happened. "So... what did you want to talk about?" he asked, glancing over at her.

Emma hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she collected her thoughts. "I... I need to tell you something," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's about... dreams... well... my dreams?"

Fuck this is awkward...

Thomas looked at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Dreams?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

Emma nodded, staring out at the Glade below, unable to meet his gaze just yet. 

"I remember you," she confessed, mentally cringing at how insane she sounded; It was a miracle he didn't take off running then and there.

"The day I came up in the Box, your name was the first thing that came to mind, even before I remembered my own." Emma slowly explained, watching how his expression changed from concern to confusion, yet he said nothing, instead he nodded as if what she was saying made any sense at all.

Thomas was quiet for a moment, processing her words. "You... remembered me?" he asked, his tone laced with surprise.

Emma nodded. "Yeah. It was strange. Like I knew you... like we had a history, but I couldn't figure out how or why."

Thomas was silent for a beat before he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I... recognized you too," he admitted while looking away, unable to meet her gaze after that revelation.

"But I wasn't sure what to make of it. It freaked me out, honestly. I've been keeping my distance because I wasn't sure if it was just me going crazy." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But then last night... I had a dream too."

"Well... that's a relief... at least I'm not the only one going crazy here" Emma laughed but quickly covered it with a cough as Thomas's expression remained blank at her words.

"Sorry... what kind of dream? Like what did you see exactly?" she quickly asked.

Thomas's brow furrowed as he recalled the details. "It was... strange. I saw you. We were in a lab. There were scientists... and I watched them drag you away while I just stood there, unable to do anything. And the whole time, this phrase kept repeating in my head."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. "WICKED is good?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Thomas's eyes widened, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah. You've heard it too?"

"I have," she sighed. "I don't know what it means though. But... it keeps coming back to me."

Thomas frowned, staring out over the Glade. "Why do we remember these things when no one else does? Why us?"

"I don't know," Emma said, her voice tinged with frustration. "But I feel like it's going to come up during the meeting. And whatever is going on, it's freaking everyone out, especially Gally."

At the mention of Gally, Thomas's gaze hardened. 

He looked over at the Keeper of the Builders, standing a distance away with his arms crossed, glaring in their direction. 

"He's made up his mind about me," Thomas muttered. "Ever since I came up in that Box, he's been determined to prove I'm some kind of threat like I'm here to destroy the Glade."

Emma sighed, her shoulders slumping. "He's decided it's both of us now. He's convinced we know each other, and that it's part of some plan to sabotage the Glade. He's been pushing Alby to banish me, and I'm starting to think he might actually succeed this time."

Thomas shook his head. "Gally's wrong. We don't know what's going on, just like everyone else. Just because we remember a little more doesn't mean we're here to destroy anything."

Emma looked at him, her expression full of doubt. "But what if Gally's right?" she said quietly. "I've had my doubts too, Thomas. What if I'm only here to make things worse? What if... all of this is because of me?"

As the words left her lips, her stomach churned, a sick feeling of guilt crawling up her spine. 

Her heart raced, thudding against her ribs as if trying to escape the growing anxiety that gripped her. The images of Ben's crazed eyes, Gally's constant accusations, and Newt's worried expression kept flashing in her mind, a storm of fear and confusion she couldn't escape.

She could feel her hands trembling again, the same way they did when Gally grabbed her wrist earlier, his accusations ringing in her ears.

What if he's right?

What if I'm exactly what he says I am?

Thomas stared at her, his expression softening. "I don't believe that," he said firmly. 

"I don't think you're here to hurt anyone. I mean, look at us, we don't even know what's going on ourselves. How could we be monsters if we don't even have all the answers?"

There was a faint sense of familiarity in their conversation like he'd heard it before. He watched her carefully, seeing the way her doubts ate away at her. 

Before she could respond, he added, "It's not our fault that we remember each other. That doesn't mean we're bad."

Emma sighed, glancing over at Gally again. "Maybe. But Gally's going to do everything he can to get us kicked out of this place and thrown into the maze. And honestly, he'll probably succeed. I saw the way Alby looked at me earlier. I'm not so sure about our chances... well mine at least."

"They have to hear us out, Alby looks like a reasonable guy, he won't just throw us out there based on what one person said." Thomas shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the thought. 

He'd be the first one to walk into the maze if they allowed it; it'd probably give him a heck of a lot more answers than they were.

Emma shook her head, biting her lip. "I'm not so sure. When I told Newt about the dreams, I saw his expression shift. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was trying to figure it out, and it didn't sit right with him."

Thomas cut her off gently. "Newt should be the least of your worries," he said, his tone reassuring. 

"He cares about you. You should know that... hell I just got here and even I know that. I'm sure he's on our side."

Emma wanted to believe him, but her doubts lingered. 

She glanced down at the gardens, where Newt was working alongside Zart, his back turned to them. There was something in his expression earlier that still nagged at her, but she couldn't put it into words.

Before she could say anything, Chuck came running up the ladder to the watchtower, his face pale and full of worry. "Hey! Alby's about to start the meeting," he called out, breathless. "You guys need to come down."

Emma and Thomas exchanged a glance before nodding.

As Emma and Thomas walked toward the meeting room, the weight of what was about to happen pressed down on her. 

Thomas, oblivious to the tension she felt, was busy glancing around, taking in the sights. His eyes widened as they entered the meeting room, which was larger than he had expected.

Emma, however, wasn't as impressed. 

She'd been there before, sitting in on a similar meeting not too long ago. But this time felt different. This time, it wasn't just about her, it was about Thomas too. And there was so much more at stake.

"Nice of you two to finally make it," Gally grumbled as they took their seats, his voice dripping with annoyance.

Alby, sitting at the head of the table, shot Gally a tired look. "Gally, this is absurd. There was no need to call for a meeting... or lie about who asked for this meeting in the first place... not when there's so much going on right now, especially with Ben getting banished tonight." Alby said, his voice strained, clearly fed up with the argument.

Emma blinked in surprise. 

She had genuinely believed that Alby might side with Gally, especially after everything that had happened with Ben. The toll it had taken on Alby was obvious in the way he spoke and moved, more tense and commanding than usual. 

Maybe he didn't know as much as she feared he did.

Gally wasn't about to give up, though. "So, you're not even going to consider that either of them had something to do with Ben getting stung in the first place?" he snapped, his frustration palpable.

"Ben got stung by a Griever, Gally. It's not like one of them is secretly a Griever in disguise, you dumb shuck," Minho commented dryly, leaning back in his chair, clearly bored with the whole situation.

"But he was stung in broad daylight!" Gally persisted. 

"And they remember each other. No Glader has ever remembered anything other than their name, yet they seem to know more than they're letting on. Come on, we all heard her talking about Thomas the day she got out of the Box." Gally revealed to the rest of them.

Alby sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Just because they recognized each other doesn't mean we're banishing them. Unless you've got real proof, this meeting's pointless."

Emma allowed herself a tiny breath of relief...

until Newt spoke up.

Newt began hesitantly, his voice tight, "Emma's been having dreams about Thomas."

The room went quiet, all eyes turning to Emma, who felt a jolt of shock and betrayal. 

Her gaze snapped to Newt, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. He looked troubled, his usual calm demeanor shaken, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

Of all the people, why did it have to be him?

Newt's words hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless. Her heart pounded in her chest as the room fell into an unsettling silence, all eyes shifting toward her. The sense of betrayal was immediate and overwhelming, cutting deeper than anything Gally could have said or done.

Emma's gaze burned into Newt, silently pleading for him to look at her, to explain. 

But he wouldn't. 

His eyes were fixed on the table, his expression tense, troubled. 

He couldn't even face her. 

That made it worse, the fact that he knew what he had just done, and yet, he couldn't look her in the eye. It wasn't a mistake; it was deliberate. He knew exactly what revealing this would mean for her.

The person she thought understood her, the person who had listened when no one else had, had just sold her out in front of everyone.

Even Gally was momentarily speechless, surprised that Newt had been the one to bring it up. His usual sneer faltered as he glanced at Newt, disbelief flickering in his eyes.

Alby, looking more intrigued than before, turned to Emma. "Is that true?"

Emma straightened, meeting Alby's stern gaze with a resolute expression. "Yes," she answered, her voice steady, though her insides churned with a mixture of anger and fear.

Thomas immediately jumped in, his voice defensive. "We don't know anything besides each other's names! How is that a crime? We're just as confused as everyone else."

Alby leaned back, his eyes narrowing as if weighing Thomas's words carefully. 

Emma could almost see the gears turning in his mind, his expression hard to read. He sighed, rubbing his temple before turning to the others. "We don't know what they remember besides each other's names. That's not a crime. And we've got nothing else to accuse them of."

Emma exhaled quietly, relief mixing with dread. She knew it wasn't the full truth, but she wasn't about to make things worse for herself or Thomas.

"What about the fact that Ben got stung? And out of everyone, he attacked them. Alby, listen to me, these two are up to something, and if we don't do something about it, more of us are going to end up like Ben. Anyone else agree with me?" Gally argued.

Several Gladers raised their hands at the question, though Zart rolled his eyes in response. Minho and Frypan were playing rock-paper-scissors, clearly uninterested in the whole thing. Chuck was off in his own world, carving a piece of wood while humming quietly.

Emma's eyes drifted to Newt again, and for a moment, their gazes met. He seemed conflicted as if wrestling with something inside. Then, with a sigh, he looked away.

"We don't know anything for sure," Newt spoke up, his voice cautious. "It's not right to assume they're up to no good just because they remember each other. Yeah, it's weird, but we can't banish people over an assumption."

"I never said anything about banish-" Gally began but Alby, clearly tired of the arguing, interrupted.

"That's enough. No one called for a vote because there's nothing to vote on. This meeting's over. We need to wrap up before the doors close," Alby said, clearly not wanting to entertain Gally's accusations any longer.

The group began to disperse slowly, everyone heading back to their duties as the meeting concluded. Emma lingered, still trying to process everything that had just happened. 

She watched Newt walk away without another word, leaving her feeling more betrayed than ever.

Gally, who had been watching her with a scowl, started to leave but stopped when Emma muttered under her breath, "Still didn't get what you wanted, did you?"

She shook her head, walking past him to leave as well when, without warning, Gally grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful. 

"I never said anything about banishing you," he growled. 

"You're the one who's been assuming that. If you want to start throwing blame around, look somewhere else because I wasn't the one who told everyone about your dreams and practically gave them a reason to want to get rid of you." He pointed out.

"But you were the one to call this stupid meeting in the first place, so don't try to act all innocent now," Emma argued pulling her arm away from him.

"I gave you a chance to explain yourself." He grumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

Emma's stomach twisted at his words, her anger flaring. Gally leaned in closer, his face twisted in disgust and hatred. "At least I'm upfront about how I feel about you. I didn't go and stab you in the back like someone else just did."

Before Emma could respond, Zart walked in, glancing between the two. "Everything alright in here?"

Gally rolled his eyes, letting go of Emma's arm. "Peachy," he muttered before storming off toward the Builders' hut.

Zart watched him go before turning back to Emma, his face softening. "You, okay?"

Emma sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. "Yeah," she lied. 

"I'm fine."

Zart didn't push any further. He simply wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a small, reassuring squeeze. "Come on, we've got work to do," he said, guiding her toward the gardens. 

Emma nodded, grateful for his presence, but her mind was still spinning from everything that had just happened.

The air in the garden was thick with awkward tension as Emma, Newt, and Zart worked in silence. Newt quietly planted seeds from a bucket, his eyes fixed on the soil, avoiding Emma's gaze completely. 

Emma, still reeling from the betrayal in the meeting room, had nothing to say to him, but the fact that he was choosing to stay quiet as if he had nothing to say either, irked her.

The silence between them was suffocating, like a wall of unspoken emotions neither of them wanted to face.

Zart, who usually kept things light with his easy-going attitude, was also unnaturally quiet. 

He seemed unsure of how to fix the hanging between them both. Every so often, he glanced between them with a look of discomfort, knowing full well there was something unresolved between his two friends but not knowing how to help. 

He shifted awkwardly before finally standing up.

"I'll, uh, go get some fertilizer," Zart mumbled, clearly reluctant to leave but even more reluctant to stay in the uncomfortable silence. He gave Emma a quick, guilty look before disappearing down the path, leaving her and Newt alone.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the soft rustle of leaves and the faint thud of seeds hitting the dirt as Newt continued his work. 

Emma's eyes flicked toward him, watching him work with the same steady determination he always had, but now something felt deeply wrong between them. He didn't look at her. He hadn't looked at her since the meeting.

The betrayal gnawed at her insides, and the longer the silence stretched, the more unbearable it became. She couldn't take it anymore, she had to know why he'd done it, why he had turned on her like that.

Taking a deep breath, Emma finally spoke, her voice low and filled with hurt. "Why?"

Newt stiffened, his hands pausing mid-movement as he planted another seed. He didn't answer, didn't even look up.

"Why did you tell them about the dreams?" Emma pressed, her voice rising just a little with frustration. "I trusted you."

"Just drop it, Emma," Newt muttered under his breath, still focused on the task in front of him, but the tension in his voice was unmistakable.

"No, I won't drop it," she snapped, her frustration boiling over. "What else did you tell them?"

Newt didn't respond, refusing to meet her eyes, but his silence only fueled her frustration. "Do you really think so low of me?" she asked, her voice shaking now, filled with hurt. 

"Do you actually think I would hurt Ben?"

 "Do you agree with Gally?"

"Do you think I should be thrown out into the Maze?"

At that, Newt finally turned to face her, his expression a mix of anger and pain. "Ben was my friend! And now I have to banish him. I have to make that call, knowing I'll never see him again. Do you think I don't feel torn up about this? I don't know what to think anymore!"

Emma's heart pounded in her chest as she stared back at him, her hurt deepening. 

"How is that my fault, Newt?" she asked, her voice quieter now but filled with raw emotion. 

"You told me you'd never blame me for the things Gally said. You said you trusted me. And now you're on Gally's side? Now you suddenly believe him?" she asked.

Newt clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with frustration. "I don't trust a bloody word that comes out of Gally's mouth, you know that...."

"And I meant what I said. I won't let them banish you." He added, his tone softer as he spoke, but his words no longer provided her any sense of reassurance.

His gaze faltered for a moment, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know what to believe anymore," he admitted quietly, running a hand through his hair. 

"Nothing makes sense."

Before Emma could respond, Winston appeared, walking briskly toward them. "Newt, we need you," he said, gesturing toward the gate where the other Keepers were gathered. "The sun's going down, and the doors are about to close."

Newt glanced back at Winston and then at Emma, hesitation flickering across his face. Without another word, he turned to leave, but as he took a few steps, Emma's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I don't trust you anymore, Newt," she said, her voice cold, each word cutting through the air.

 "I'd rather be out there in the fucking Maze than spend another moment around you because at least out there, I don't have to worry about backstabbing assholes like you." 

Her words hit him like a physical blow. 

Newt visibly flinched, his shoulders tensing as if he'd been struck. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words wouldn't come. His eyes, filled with hurt, lingered on her for a moment before Winston pulled him away, urging him toward the gate where Zart and the others were already waiting.

Emma stood there, watching them walk away, her heart pounding with a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. She saw Zart briefly look over at her, his face soft with concern, but she didn't meet his gaze. 

She couldn't. Not right now.

As the Keepers gathered near the gate, Emma slowly made her way over, keeping her distance. Chuck and Thomas were already there, standing off to the side, watching the Keepers prepare to close the gates for the night. 

She joined them, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing heavily on her chest. She crossed her arms, staring blankly ahead as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the Glade.

"I'm sorry about Newt," Thomas said softly, breaking the heavy silence between them. His words reminded Emma that he was still there.

"It's ok, Tom. It was bound to happen anyway," Emma sighed, shaking her head. 

"Soon enough, they'll all start agreeing with Gally." Her voice was laced with resignation, and part of her hated to admit it, but even she was starting to believe Gally had a point.

"I wonder if going into the Maze now would just save them the hassle of throwing us in afterward," she mumbled, more to herself than to him, though she knew Thomas had heard her.

Thomas looked at her sharply, concern flashing in his eyes. "Don't think like that, Em. You said it yourself, it's dangerous in there."

Emma let out a hollow laugh, the bitterness evident in her voice. "Not as dangerous as it is in here, Tom. Believe me."

Without waiting for a response, she started walking away, her pace slow but steady as she tried to put some distance between herself and the Keepers. 

Chuck followed her, but Thomas stayed put, curiously watching them send Ben to his death.

The Gladers had gathered around, their attention fixed on Minho, who was dragging a pale and sickly Ben toward the other Keepers. They formed a circle around him, holding sticks, making sure he couldn't escape.

He watched as the Keepers pushed Ben closer to the Maze, the boy's desperate pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. The faces of the Gladers were grim, etched with sorrow and guilt, but there was nothing they could do. It was the rule.

As the massive doors slammed shut behind him, cutting off his cries, the silence that followed was suffocating. The Gladers stood frozen, the gloomy aura thick around them, as if the very air in the Glade had turned cold.

Alby's voice broke through the stillness, his tone hard and final. "He belongs to the Maze now."

His words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving, as he locked eyes with Thomas. 

Then, without another word, Alby turned and walked away, the other Keepers following closely behind him, their faces as grim as their leader's.

Thomas stood there for a moment longer, watching them leave, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily in his chest.

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