Disclaimer: The setting, the characters (except for Charlotte and Dr. Ackerman) belong to James Dashner. No copyright infringement intended.


Bodies clashing together and the sound of metal hitting metal clouded the young boy's senses. It was chaos everywhere. Blood splattered out from bodies as they landed on the cold cement. Off to his side he could see men in uniform trying to stop the madness, almost like they wanted to help him. But the young boy knew it was far from the truth. Not moments ago, the men in uniform came barging in, completely wrecking the once quiet morning he shared with her. They were trying to take them away – him and her, but just as they were about to seize the two youngsters, a hoard of lunatics invaded the place they once called home. They started attacking, with the ones in uniforms defending. He forgot what they were called – the ones with the crazed eyes and bodies that seemed to decay with each passing minute. Vaguely, he could remember the word crank. Is that what they were called? Although, he had no time to ponder on this little fact. On his other side, she started speaking. He glanced down at her, and a feeling of warmth enveloped his senses. She smiled brightly at him, and he knew… he knew that everything was going to be okay. Her hands trailed down from his elbow and down to his sweaty palms. She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's going to be okay." That's what she said.

But then again, it wasn't. Nothing was okay.

Newt awoke with a start, sitting upright on his makeshift bed. His dream had left him breathless and sweaty, so he reached out his hand to grab the shirt that was sprawled on the edge of his bed and hastily wiped the sweat off his neck. He was too preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't hear the soft footfalls approaching his room.

"Newt!"

Newt jerked his head towards the doorframe and his gaze landed on the dark haired runner, who also seemed out of breath.

"Minho?" Newt questioned. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

Minho creased his brows in worry as he slowly approached Newt, who had his back pressed up against the headboard of his bed. "I heard you yelling. Are you alright?"

Newt pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yeah, I feel bloody fantastic."

Minho rolled his eyes at his friend's attempt at sarcasm. "Don't be sarcastic with me you little slinthead. Tell me the truth."

Newt sighed and looked down. "I feel horrible."

Minho sat himself down on the edge of Newt's bed. He just continued to stare at Newt, urging him to say more.

"I had that dream again. The one with the bloody girl."

"Same dream?"

"Yeah, the exact same one." Newt raised his head. "Why do I keep having these dreams, Minho?"

Minho stayed silent. He didn't know how to respond to that.

"I still couldn't see her entire face. Just the smile, and those round brown eyes." Newt continued. "She kept telling me that everything was going to be alright, and for some strange reason, I believed her."

"Maybe she was someone important from your previous life. You know, outside the maze." Minho said. "An old girlfriend, maybe? I knew you weren't always an uptight shank, Newt."

"I have another nightmare and you still find ways to taunt me." Newt grinned. "You're a bloody slinthead, you know that, right?"

Minho laughed. "I am the best bloody slinthead you're ever going to meet."

"Good that."

The pair embraced the silence that came after their little banter. Newt continued to stare off into the thin air, while Minho kept him company.

"Not remembering… it's really taking a toll on me." Newt said after a while. His voice was barely above a whisper. "It's like there's a huge hole inside of me, and I don't know what to do to cover it up. It's a bloody annoying feeling, really. Maybe if I can remember properly… this will go away."

"Where's this coming from, Newt?"

Newt sighed. "You want to know the real reason why I jumped that day, Minho? I kept telling everyone it was because I was bloody fed up with everything but…"

Minho shifted his body so he was facing Newt directly.

"The truth is, I jumped because I thought that in my dying moments I could finally remember… but I didn't die, and I didn't remember." Newt laughed out bitterly. "It was a stupid choice, wasn't it?"

"Darn right it was." Minho snapped. "You got all of those shanks worried when it happened. Alby was throwing a fit. Heck, even I was worried about you."

"Yeah, I know. Heard from Gally you immediately rushed back inside the Maze to find me when I didn't come back." Newt smiled when he looked at Minho. "I never said thank you for that, so, thank you."

Minho nodded at him, a small smile playing on his lips. The words didn't need to be spoken. They both knew that the other would do the same if their roles were reversed.

It was silent again for a while before Minho stood up to leave. "I better get back to my room. Alby's going to explode when he finds out his best runner's not in top shape for tomorrow's duties."

"Best runner? Really?"

"Yeah, and you bloody know it." Minho winked, making Newt burst out laughing. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

With a small wave, the runner left the room. Newt laid back down and folded his arms so that his head was resting on them. He gazed up at the ceiling, his thoughts lingering on his dream – or rather, his memories as Minho had pointed out. He thought about her again - the girl with the bright smile and brown eyes - and he felt hopeless once again.

"Why can't I remember who you are?"


The deafening sound of the alarm caught everyone off guard. Newt felt his body tense and his grip on the shovel tighten at the loud noise, but soon enough he allowed himself to relax.

"It's just the bloody greenie alarm, Newt. Calm yourself." Newt muttered. He dropped the shovel he was holding and followed the rest of the boys as they scampered off towards the location of the box.

"Alright, alright, move out of the way you bloody shanks." Newt hollered as he weaved his way through the crowd.

Being the second-in-command, it was his job to welcome the greenie, along with their leader, Alby. Once the box came to a screeching halt, Newt took it upon himself to open the box and jump right in, hoping to assist the new comer. However, when his gaze fell upon the seemingly unconscious figure, he felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him. Could his eyes be deceiving him?

There, lying down inside the cold, dreary box, was a girl. And that's not the only thing that got Newt perplexed. Her presence felt oddly familiar to him. He couldn't see her face though, since it was being covered by her long hair.

"Everything okay down there, Newt?" He heard Alby ask.

"Alby, I think you better send in Clint and Jeff. She's passed out. At least, I hope she's just passed out." Newt called back.

"Clint! Jeff! Come-" Alby cut his words short. "Wait, did you just say she?"

"Yeah, I did."

Newt could hear the crowd of boys burst into chatter, all equally excited and somewhat curious as to why the Creators would send a girl to the Glade.

Newt bent down to brush the hair off of her face. He found himself transfixed, and his insides churned uncomfortably at the idea that this girl was the same one from his dreams. It was a long shot, but Newt still couldn't help but wonder.

He let his fingers graze her hands which were curled up into fists. He pried them open, and was surprised to find a small piece of paper. Curiosity overtook him, and he opened it. He felt his throat dry as he read what was written, his earlier thoughts having been confirmed.

Newt.

His name was written on the piece of paper.