You had always liked the blond boy.
They called him Newt, the Gladers. He was the one with the sandy blond hair, soft brown eyes, and that limp you'd grown to love.
Everything about Newt was perfect to you-perfect, yet foreign.
You could watch him from afar, but you wanted to be able to see him in the flesh. To hear him talking, for real, not picked up (against his will, nonetheless) through a microphone hidden in a beetle blade. To interact with him, talk with him, laugh with him.
But he was foreign.
And you were foreign to him, foreign and evil.
Yes, you worked at WICKED-you were one of the so-called "Creators". You were one of the people who had put him in the Maze, and through the Scorch, and everything after. You did this to him.
It wasn't your fault that your mother was Ava Paige, right?
You had always thought that WICKED-and it's plans-were anything but good. But your mom was convinced that putting the world's smartest teenagers through a series of useless Trials would lead them to a cure for the Flare. And killing most of them along the way wasn't a big deal to her.
You had to tell yourself to just keep playing along, no matter how painful it was.
And it was painful. You saw everything that had happened to Newt, from the second he came up in the Box.
WICKED was always, always watching.
You'd seen Newt jump off of the Maze wall when he'd finally had enough. You'd watched him feel safe for a single night, only to have to suffer through the Scorch afterwards. You'd heard the declaration, saw his face fall when he found out he wasn't immune.
But what you had to watch right now was the worst thing you'd ever seen.
You were sitting in your private office-an unwanted gift from your mother-and half-watching the computer's live feed from multiple beetle blade cameras. Those little lizards were everywhere, watching the Gladers' every move.
"Stop!" Thomas yelled on screen. "Stop the van! Now!"
"What?" Lawrence replied, speaking exactly what was running through your head. "What're you talking about?"
"Just stop the freaking van!"
You clicked on another camera view, scanning the video with narrowed eyes. Then you saw him, standing alone in the wasteland, his now lifeless eyes boring into Thomas.
The blond boy. The second-in-command, the Crank.
And your mind went into overdrive.
"You better stop the van, Lawrence," you grumbled to yourself.
Lawrence slammed on the brakes and you resisted the urge to sigh with relief-you knew the worst was yet to come.
Lawrence and Thomas continued to argue, and finally Thomas convinced the older man to let him out of the van. When he grabbed a gun, your heart felt coated in ice.
He's a Crank, you told yourself. He's insane, unstable. Thomas needs it...so he's safe.
But you only really cared about the safety of one person-Newt.
Thomas walked slowly toward Newt, and your heart sped up. You tapped your fingers anxiously on the desk, anticipating the moment when they would meet.
"Hey, Newt. It's me, Thomas. You still remember me, right?"
You held your breath.
"I bloody remember you, Tommy. You just came to see me at the Palace, rubbed it in that you ignored my note. I can't go completely crazy in a few days."
The note.
You visualized Newt scribbling his message onto the shred of paper, a scene that had broken you inside.
Kill me. If you've ever been my friend, kill me.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had the nerve to feel relieved that Thomas hadn't read it in time. You had to watch poor Newt go completely insane, and your heart ached with longing for the joyful boy he was in the Glade.
You forced yourself to focus on the conversation the two boys were having at the moment.
"I should rip your eyes out," Newt said. "Teach you a lesson in stupidity. Why'd you come over here? You expected a bloody hug? Huh? A nice sit-down to talk about the good times in the Glade?"
The words ripped your heart to shreds, and you couldn't even imagine how Thomas felt. Then you noticed Thomas reaching for the gun, and you resisted the urge to scream.
"You wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Did I ever tell you? No, I don't think I did."
"What happened?" Thomas asked. You could tell he was stalling for time.
You knew how Newt had gotten his limp, and hearing him retell the story would hurt you even more. You focused on grabbing the phone, dialing your mother's number, readying yourself if anything happened to the blond boy.
He would not die.
"And it was all … your … fault!" Newt screamed, and you jerked your head toward the screen.
You watched in horror as Newt twisted around with a surprising show of strength and grabbed Thomas's gun. He yanked it toward himself, forcing it up until the end of the pistol was pressed against his forehead.
You let out a strangled gasp. "No!"
"Now make amends!" Newt screamed. "Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters! Kill me! I trusted you with the note! No one else. Now do it!"
Thomas tried to pull his hand away, to your relief, but Newt was too strong.
"I can't, Newt, I can't," Thomas muttered, looking horrified and astonished.
"Make amends! Repent for what you did!" Newt snarled.
"Thomas, don't!" You were yelling now, wishing they could hear you, and your brain was going into overdrive. This couldn't be happening.
"Do it!" Newt commanded.
"I can't!" Thomas protested.
Your head swam, and you buried it in your hands. You couldn't bear to watch.
"Do it before I become one of them!"
"I…"
You gasped, horrified. It sounded like Thomas was changing his mind.
"KILL ME!"
And then, for a moment, Newt looked like the boy from the Glade. Your blond boy with the limp, and the sandy blond hair, and the soft brown eyes.
The sane, soft brown eyes.
"Please, Tommy. Please."
"NO!" you screamed, forcing yourself to turn away from the screen.
You heard the gunshot, the thunk as a bullet entered Newt's body.
And you collapsed into the chair, sobbing.
You felt like you couldn't move or breathe, or even live another second. You wanted to die with Newt. You felt guilty being on this Earth without him.
But then you sat up, some sense flooding into your brain.
WICKED could save him.
For once, WICKED could actually be good.
You quickly pressed the "call" button with a trembling index finger and held the smartphone to your ear. It let out a monotone ring...and then another.
Your eyes flickered back to the computer screen. Thomas and Lawrence were driving away, leaving glassy-eyed Newt alone with dark blood dripping down his face.
You looked away from the screen before the pain was too much for you to handle.
"Hello?" A voice said in your ear.
"Mom!" you nearly screamed, your voice trembling. "It's Newt! Thomas, he...Newt is…."
"I know," your mom said, her voice calm yet lacking in comfort. "I'm watching right now in my office."
"Then do something!" You blurted out, running your hands through your hair.
"I'm sorry, we can't save him. We didn't save any of the other subjects as they died-"
"Mom, you have to save him. Please, please, please! Just try to save him, and if it doesn't work, then at least you'll know you tried."
There was silence on the line as she hesitated.
"Mom, please. For me. I'll never ask for anything else-I don't ask for much anyway. Just please try to save him," you begged, tears running down your cheeks.
You heard a crackle of static through the phone, and then your mother's voice speaking through the organization-wide intercom system in the ceilings.
"I need guards in sections A-5 through D-6 in my office immediately, fully stocked with weapons. I will inform you of your duties when you arrive. Sector 7 doctors prepare the latest experimental cure syringes-we will be using them on one of our subjects on the verge of death-make sure you are ready to take care of him. Salutations, Chancellor Paige."
There was another burst of static, and then your mother returned to the phone.
"Thank you, Mom. Thank you so much," you sighed, still on edge.
"I cannot assure that it will work. It would be hard enough saving him in the first place, but removing the Flare and the bullet from his brain is very unlikely to happen. The staff will try as best as they can, but again, nothing is guaranteed."
"At least you agreed to try. That's what matters."
"Ah, yes. The staff will be arriving soon, I have to go."
"Okay. Thank you, and...I love you."
You heard your mother gasp lightly through the phone. You rarely ever told her you loved her.
"I love you, too. And I hope that Newt makes it. I really do."
Your mother hung up the phone and you slumped into your chair.
Now all you had to do was wait.
Waiting was the hardest thing you'd ever done. You tried to do other things to keep yourself occupied, but every time your thoughts strayed back to Newt.
Most of the time you decided to just watch Thomas's current actions on the computer-right now he was waltzing right through the gates of WICKED, irrationally thinking he had a plan-but every time you saw his face your blood boiled with rage.
How could he ever do that to Newt? One of his best friends?
You'd tried to get into the room where they were working on Newt, but the doctors wouldn't let you in. Even your mother said it would be "too disturbing" for you to watch.
They were probably right, but you wanted to know what was happening to Newt, or at least see him for a moment.
"Miss Paige?" someone said from the door, and you turned around to face them. It was a vaguely familiar man clothed in the standard doctors' lab coat.
"Yes?" you said, hoping for news on Newt.
"Your mother told me to notify you that the surgery was over-the patient is in a coma-like state, and we are unsure of when he'll wake up or if the surgery was successful. You may visit him if you'd like."
Before he was even done talking, you pushed past him and through the door. You ran for the room where they were keeping Newt, your heart rate getting faster with every step.
What if the surgery didn't work? What if Newt died anyway?
No, it would work. Newt would survive.
You reached the door and placed a hand on the knob, hesitating. For the first time, you finally got to see the boy for real. He was right there in front of you, just beyond the door.
You took a deep breath and turned the knob, pushing the door open slowly to reveal a bare room with only a bed, some chairs, and a few medical contraptions. Newt lied peacefully on the bed with his head covered in bandages and various tubes hooked up to his body.
You stared at Newt almost unbelievingly. He was dressed in a standard-issue WICKED T-shirt and gray cotton sweatpants with white socks. Simple brown shoes rested at the foot of his bed, and you couldn't help but frown at the doctors' revolting fashion choices.
Blankets were pulled up to Newt's chest and his folded hands rested on top of them. His eyes were closed, and he breathed slowly and rhythmically. You heard the steady beeping of one of the machines that matched his quiet breaths.
You pulled up a chair next to him, almost in a trance. He was so beautiful, even now, and you had to resist the urge to hold his hand.
You sat there, watching him, for what felt like forever. You wanted him to wake up more than anything. You wanted to see his soft brown eyes and hear his adorable accent.
"Miss Paige?"
The voice you heard wasn't Newt's, and you turned to see the doctor from earlier standing in the doorway. "Yeah?"
"We'll be doing some tests on the patient now, if you could please leave the room, that would be great."
"Fine," you groaned, standing up and casting one last glance at the blond boy before you walked out of the room.
The rest of the day was boring, as usual. You talked to some of the other people who worked at WICKED, mostly a doctor in his twenties named Dan that you had taken a particular liking to. Even Thomas's actions weren't exciting anymore-he was playing WICKED's game, like he had finally given up. He was letting them take his brain.
But all you cared about was seeing Newt, and waiting for him to wake up.
He didn't wake up that day, or the next day, or the day after that. You were starting to get restless, especially when you overheard the doctors' conversation.
"Something like this shouldn't have caused a long-term coma."
"Yeah, if this boy doesn't wake up soon, I'd say he's a goner."
"Wouldn't be surprised."
It had taken all your willpower not to barge in there and beat up every one of those doctors, but then you remembered that they were the ones taking care of Newt. You resisted, but only for his sake.
Your thoughts often strayed to what would happen when Newt woke up. You hoped to be there and be the first person he saw once he was awake. Would he be afraid of you and try to escape? Would he call you his savior and love you forever? Would he...just go back to sleep?
You didn't know, and you were getting impatient.
You sat in the chair in his room, studying Newt's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, and you impulsively reached out to take his soft hand in your own.
Suddenly, Newt bolted straight up to a sitting position, his face horror-stricken and his eyes wide.
You jumped backward, almost falling out of your chair. "Newt?"
His wide eyes focused on you. "Who-who are you? Why am I here? Why does my head hurt so much?"
"Relax," you said gently, placing a hand on his arm.
He recoiled, looking at you with fear.
"It's alright," you said, trying not to sound hurt. "We rescued you. Remember? You asked Thomas to...to shoot you, and you almost died, but we saved you."
His face took on a horrific look of recognition.
"I have the Flare. I'm a Crank, I'll die anyway!" he yelled, breathing heavily and cradling his injured head in his hands.
"No," you protested softly, trying to stay calm. "The doctors removed the bullet and the Flare from your mind. You're lucky, it's never worked on anyone else before."
He thought for a moment, calming down slightly. "The doctors...WICKED."
You bit your lip, hesitating before you nodded slowly. "Yes."
"You work at WICKED," he realized, and then scooted farther away from you.
"I...yes, my mother is Chancellor Paige. But, honestly, I don't think WICKED is good. Everything they did to you...they're horrible."
"Glad you bloody agree. You're telling me I'm Immune?"
"Yes. You aren't a Crank anymore, you can survive," you said, trying to keep the happiness out of your voice.
"Thanks," Newt said dryly, "but I don't think you saved me, bringing me back here. Now I'm stuck at their mercy, and they can do whatever tests they want. I'm sure they already did more than enough."
You frowned, knowing he still didn't trust you. "Maybe. But if I didn't make them bring you here, you would be dead, and...I think this is better."
"I don't want to be their lab rat. I don't want to suffer again, I just want it all to be over," he said, and you could hear the hurt in his voice.
"You won't have to suffer anymore," you promised, even though your words felt empty. "I won't let them touch you."
He hesitated. "Why do you care so much about me? Why would you want me to be safe? For all I know, this is another one of your buggin' Variables."
"It's not. I promise, I really do care about you."
He raised an eyebrow, and you flushed bright red.
"And the other Gladers, too," you added quickly.
He grinned slightly, and the sight made your heart melt. "Alright. If you're really on my side, you gotta help me bust out of here."
"What?" you asked, surprised. You'd finally gotten to meet Newt, and now he wanted to leave again?
"I told you, I ain't staying here. But if you help me get out, I could take you with me."
Your heart raced. Running away with Newt was...well, something you dreamed about.
But could it actually happen?
"I...I don't know. Could we get out safely?"
"We won't know until we try."
You looked at the ground.
"You know, I barely even know who you are, and I'm trusting you with this. You're lucky, but you choose a side now. Do you want to stay at WICKED, or are you escaping with me?"
You bit your lip, and then looked up at Newt. You thought of all of the terrible things WICKED had done to the Gladers. You thought of your mother, looking down on you with a disappointed scowl. You looked into Newt's soft eyes, and you saw so much hurt and sadness hidden in them.
You told him your name first, and then "Now you know who I am."
He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly impatient.
"And I'm on your side. Don't doubt it," you said, and he grinned.
"Let's get going, then," he said, but you shook your head.
"No. We have to wait. Thomas…" you hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. "is in this building. WICKED was trying to take his brain, and then the Right Arm attacked the place. He should still be blacked out from the medication, but he could wake up any time now."
Newt looked like his brain was going a million miles an hour. "Tommy...he's here?"
"Yes. And we're going to escape with him when the time is right."
"How-"
Suddenly, your mother appeared in the room. You stopped short, not wanting her to know your plans of escape.
"Ah, glad to see you're awake," she said to Newt before directing her attention to you. "You two want to escape, do you?"
You stayed silent, sharing a look with Newt.
"Well, you better get going. The bombs will be detonating soon, and Thomas is already awake. Follow these maps and help the other Immunes escape."
She dropped a folder into your lap and walked out of the room.
"Mom, wait!" you said, but she was already gone.
You didn't know it then, but that was the last time you ever saw your mother.
"Well…I guess we should go," Newt said quietly after a moment, but his tone made it sound like a question.
You nodded and opened the folder, scanning quickly over the paper. It was a map of the entire building with three routes drawn on it in marker. You followed the first route with your finger, and your heart dropped. How could your mother not tell you….
"The Maze," Newt said, sounding shocked as he looked over your shoulder. "We have to go back to the Maze."
An explosion shook the building, and fear coursed through your veins. Newt instinctively grabbed your arm, and you bit your lip, trying to hide a smile as your fear nearly vanished.
"Sorry," he blushed, noticing your expression and pulling his hand away.
"It's fine," you said quietly, re-entangling your fingers with his, and he grinned.
Another explosion made dust fall from the ceiling, and Newt squeezed your hand.
"Let's go before this whole place caves in," he said nervously, and you nodded.
"Can you run?" you asked.
He shrugged, pulling at the bandages wrapped around his head. "Well, I have the worst buggin' headache possible right now, I don't think anything could make it worse."
You both ran through the halls, following the map as the building shuddered around you. Newt never let go of your hand once.
"Our first priority is finding Tommy and Minho," Newt yelled when you neared the Maze.
You didn't know why the comment got to you so much, but you managed a nod. You found yourself secretly wishing he would stay with you instead of finding his other friends.
Then the realization hit you, and you almost stopped running.
His plan was surely to leave you behind. He was probably just using you to get to his friends, and later on he would abandon you.
How did you not figure it out before?
"Something wrong?" Newt asked, studying your face as you jogged down the corridor.
"Just...scared," you lied.
Newt suddenly stopped, forcing you to stop as well.
"I'm not stupid. Something's wrong," he said, giving you a knowing look.
You sighed and looked at the ground. "I was just…"
Newt rubbed your shoulder comfortingly, and you sighed, giving in. "You're going to leave me."
"What?"
"You're going to abandon me and run away with the Gladers."
"Why would you think that?" he asks you softly, pushing your chin up gently with his fingers.
"Because you barely know me, and it makes sense for you to just use me to escape."
Newt shook his head. "I'm not going to leave you. I promise."
He stared into your eyes for what seemed like forever, until the moment was interrupted by a tremble from the building.
"Now let's go," he said, squeezing your hand as you run back towards the Maze.
You went down a set of stairs and then ran through a sort of tunnel until you found yourselves at a ladder that was marked on the map.
"Ready?" you asked, and Newt nodded.
Newt started up the ladder first, and you waited a few seconds before following. You saw Newt climb through a circular hole in the ceiling and you heaved yourself up after him into the barren snow-covered wasteland between the forest and WICKED's headquarters. You realized that the hole was from a previously opened hatch, and the footprints leading away from you in the snow proved your suspicions that someone had traveled this path before you.
"Probably Thomas," you said, gesturing to the footprints, and Newt's face lit up.
"We have to follow them," he said happily, and you smiled at his enthusiasm.
"We will," you replied, linking your arm in his as you followed both the map and the trail of footprints, which seemed to be leading to the same place.
You quickly made your way over to a cluster of buildings as a thunderstorm crackled above your heads. One of the buildings had a hole blasted into it, and the two of you didn't hesitate to enter.
Blood was spattered all over the walls, and you resisted the urge to gag. Your only focus had to be to make it to the Maze, and Thomas, and the others.
You ran through empty rooms and hallways, feeling slightly uneasy. You jogged through a long corridor that ended in another open door, an almost sure sign that Thomas was here.
The room after that had a bunch of upturned tables, and whatever had happened in there couldn't have been pleasant.
"The Maze is this way," Newt muttered, studying the map that you'd passed to him as he pointed down a hallway.
You ran through rooms, closets, hallways, corridors, doorways...the list was never ending. Finally you ended up in a room that made Newt gasp in horror.
It was the chamber that housed the Griever pods, the room that the Gladers had found themselves in when they'd escaped the Maze.
"Ladder," Newt said simply, his voice shaking, as he started up the rungs.
You followed, feeling odd, as if you were reliving something that you hadn't even lived before. The room after that brought back even more seemingly false memories: it held the computer where the Thomas and Teresa typed the code to shut down the Grievers. You tried to ignore the obvious pain in Newt's eyes as he looked around the room, finally settling on the hole in the ceiling.
Without a word, you and Newt pulled yourselves out of the Griever Hole and onto the Cliff. You were in the Maze, a place where you'd never imagine yourself being only a matter of days earlier.
You heard the distant chatter of conversation, and another rumble shook the walls. Newt's face was a mix of shock and horror, and you laced your fingers through his.
"Do you know the way to the Glade?" you asked him gently.
He nodded wordlessly and started to jog, slowly at first but gaining speed. You took countless turns and paths that you could never remember before you ended up in the Glade, at long last.
"There's so many," you muttered offhandedly as you took in the sheer numbers of Immunes stationed in the Glade.
Newt barely paid you any attention as his eyes searched the grounds for his friends. You bit your lip when you saw them and reluctantly pointed to the group, waiting for him to run off without you.
His reaction was different than you expected: Newt squeezed your hand, lightly pulling you in the Gladers' direction.
"I told you I wouldn't leave you. Now come on, and stop worrying."
You couldn't help but grin as the two of you sprinted off towards people you felt you almost knew, even though you'd never met. But when you started to near them, unexpected fear crept into your heart.
How would they react to Newt? They all thought he was dead…and there was still the possibility that he could abandon you.
"Newt?" you said shakily, stopping him.
He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled you behind a tree, out of the Gladers' sight.
"They think you're dead," you commented bluntly.
Newt nods grimly. "Yeah."
"How will they...I mean, they're obviously going to be surprised, and-"
Newt cut you off by placing his lips on yours. You were shocked, but after a moment, you started to kiss back. It was a gentle, innocent kiss, comforting and sweet. You felt almost disappointed when he pulled away, yet you were still on cloud nine.
"I'm going to be right here. However they react, we'll get through it. Don't worry."
You nodded, grinning uncontrollably. "Thank you," you managed.
He smiled back at you. "You're the one who kept me alive. And, judging by the fact that we could die at any moment now, I decided to just live in the moment. Follow my instincts, you know." He was blushing a lot all of a sudden, which made you giggle.
"It was perfect." You pressed another short kiss to his cheek before trekking back to the Gladers, hand in hand, this time way more confidently than before.
When you got close enough, Thomas's voice rang out clearly. "They've been studying people for years, collecting data to develop a cure for the Flare. Now they want-"
Thomas's eyes found Newt's, and Thomas let out a shocked gasp. "Newt!"
Heads turned, and people murmured his name as if in a trance. Then Newt was attacked with hugs and a joyful reunion ensued, consisting of a lot of shock and happiness.
But Newt never left your side once. He kept his promise, hanging on to your hand for dear life as he was embraced by a blur of people.
"How did you survive?" Thomas asked after hugging Newt for literally minutes, his mouth still hanging open with shock.
"I'll tell you the whole story later, but one thing's for sure. I owe my entire life to this girl right here. If it wasn't for her, I'd be dead with the Flare and a bullet in my brain." Newt squeezed your arm, and you blushed, feeling people's eyes on you.
"Thank you," Thomas said sincerely, embracing you in an unexpected hug. "You kept my best friend alive, there's nothing more that I could ask for."
"It was my pleasure, I assure you," you grinned, casting a sideways glance at Newt.
Suddenly, a loud crack sounded, like the sound of stone splintering. Everyone's eyes went wide, and Minho called,
"What was that?"
More cracks echoed through the Glade, and a familiar fear washed through your veins. Newt caught your eye.
"We'll get through this," he promised, grabbing your hand just as the explosives began to tear the Maze to shreds.
Five years later, you and Newt sat perched atop the cliff in Paradise, looking out over the horizon. He entangled his fingers with yours and grinned, kissing your cheek.
"Mommy, the sky looks so pretty!"
"It's gorgeous," you replied, gazing at the orange and pink streaked horizon.
"Beautiful," Newt said quietly, but his eyes were on you instead of the sky.
You took your little Julie into your arms and rocked her slowly. Newt put his arm around you and leaned his head into your shoulder.
"Hey, lovebirds!" Minho called from behind you, and you grinned.
"Uncle Minho!" Julie yelled, running off to hang on Minho's legs.
Minho winked at you and Newt before towing your little girl away and leaving you two alone. As soon as Minho was gone, Newt pressed his lips to yours, and you grinned into the kiss.
"Do you ever wonder…," he said quietly after pulling away.
"About?"
"What would happen if you let me die?"
You took on a shocked expression. "You know I never would have done that!"
"I know, but how much our lives would be different. We'd both probably be dead."
"Well, I'm glad I rescued you, then."
"Me too."
You laughed, wrapping your arms around Newt's neck and burying your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you exhaled.
You were in Paradise with the guy you loved. Your life was...well, amazing.
"I love you, Newt," you said, and he pressed a kiss to your temple.
"I love you, too."
You had always liked the blond boy.
THE END