"Newton, you shuck-face." Those were the first three words Newt woke up to. He slowly recognized the surroundings as the Med-jack tent. A muscular Asian boy stood over the corner of the bed. Newt half-smirked and tried to sit up. However, an extruciating pain in his leg prevented him from doing so. Groaning, he managed to worm out from the covers a little.

"You dumb slinthead, just lay still, or I'll break your other leg", the other boy said. He walked over to chair by the bed and slumped into it.

"Minho, please tell me I've died and gone straight to the shuckin' pearly gates," Newt joked, hoping that the other boy couldn't see the truth underlying it.

"Wouldn't that be luck, huh? Nah, you're still stuck in the Glade, dude, just like the rest of us." Minho rested a hand on the younger's arm. "What happened out in the Maze? I-I just found you laying there, and... shuck it, I don't know..." As he became distant in his thoughts, Newt felt a pang of guilt. Maybe it had been selfish of him; Minho would've been left all alone... well, with the other Gladers anyways, but... without him... But then again... life in the Maze was nearly unbearable...

"...I was comin' back and ran into a shuckin' Griever. It didn't notice me, I thought, but then it made that weird noise and turned around. I nearly klunked my pants, so I just ran as fast as I could... along the way back, it grabbed my leg and I fell to the ground. I... don't remember what happened next... just waking up here with you." The older boy was silent for a moment, absentmindedly tracing circles on Newt's arm.

"The Med-jacks, Clint and Jeff," he said, "they said you'll be lucky enough to walk normal enough again. Your leg got messed up real bad, bro." Minho becme quiet again. "You won't be able to Run again." Yet another pang of guilt; Newt and Minho were the best Runners. Now that pressure was all on Minho.

"Hey, cheer up." Newt smiled and moved his hand so it lay on top of the other's. "I could have bloody hit my head and all shuckin' crazy like the Gally kid."

"I don't CARE!" Minho exploded suddenly, a trait that erratically appeared out of the blue regularly. "I almost lost you..." Another moment of silence. "I can't lose you, Newton, I just can't..." Newt thought he saw tears starting to well up in the corners of Minho's eyes. He gripped the older boy's hand.

"Hey." Minho looked up, an almost sad-puppy-ish look on his face. "I won't ever leave you, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise." Newt smiled. "Now go and get them bloody Med-shanks in here; my leg is starting to kill me." Minho returned the smile and got up, leaving the room as Newt lay in bed to stew in his own guilt.

-
AN: Goddammit, this used to be longer. asdfghjkl; Deceptive screen distortions...
So here you go. Newt and Minho might be a thing, but then again, Minho's always been pretty over-emotional. And Newt's pretty much his best bro. But you cannot tell me 'Oh well, they were in the Glade for two whole years' and that absolutely NOTHING happens. I call bullshit, Dashner.