Contains spoilers for books one and three, some minor language, mature themes, and Newt x Alby. You have been warned. Proceed with caution ;)
Also contains bad grammar and spelling, my sincere apologies. Feel free to point them out and I'll fix them, but no flames please. Flames are for roasting weenies as well as burning down the houses of your enemies and should be used as such.
I tried to make the memories in order, though it does skip a lot of time. I tried to only highlight the most memorable/important events.
Newt picked at the fraying ends of his gray T-shirt dully as he sat in the corner of the stolen berg. He wanted to scream, to cry, to punch someone, just to do something to get rid of what was eating at him. He had the flare. He didn't care that he was going to die, he had kinda figured that. There was nothing for him anymore now that they'd escaped; the hope was gone. He had lost all but that when Alby died and now both things had winked out of existence. Now all he had left were Thomas and Minho, and they would see him go insane. They would see him slowly driven mad by the disease eating at his brain every shuck second of every shuck day and he couldn't stand it.
No, he wouldn't allow it.
He started to get up, but was hit by a dizzy spell. Wincing, he pressed a hand to his temple and sat back down, legs stretching out against the cool metal floor of the aircraft. With a sigh he leaned his head back, resting it against the wall. I miss Alby. He sighed again. I miss him so bloody much. He'd know what to do. And even if he didn't, just having that shank here would make things better. The blonde shut his eyes slowly and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.
A boy stood in front of a crowd. The mob was made up of all boys, looking to be from fourteen to eighteen of all different races. He was taller than most, but a childish air of fear and confusion surrounded him.
"Where am I!?" The boy screamed. "What's going on?!" Blonde hair covered his eyes and face like someone had thrown a mop over his head, and his pale blue eyes were wide with fear and looked as though they were about to spill over with tears at any second.
"The glade" One boy answered, stepping forward. He was even taller than the blonde and had dark brown hair cropped close to his skull. He appeared to be their leader, judging by the way the others looked at him. "My name's Nick, what's your's?" He asked, extending a large, calloused hand. The smaller boy trembled slightly, trying to recall as he shook it.
"Newton." He said, wrinkling his nose slightly at the sound. He didn't like his name much. "I can't remember anything else."
"Welcome to the club, shuck-face," Nick snorted, causing a few chuckles behind him. Newton looked around at his surroundings, taking it all in. They were in a large, square courtyard, stone walls standing what must have been hundreds of feet high fencing them in save for a large opening in the middle of one side. Thick ivy had grown over the slabs of rock, covering the gray with swirls of green.
"How 'bout we have Alby give the tour this time?" He asked the crowd, eyes searching until they landed on one teenager. "What do yah say kid?" The boy in question nodded stepping forward. He was about the same height as Newton, though thicker and appearing older, his well-muscled arms folding across his broad chest as he stared at the blonde boy. He had dark skin and short, black hair, and though his mouth was set in a slight scowl, his eyes were smiling.
"Well come on shank, I'm not going to wait all day." He said, beckoning for Newton to follow. He did, pale eyes meeting brown ones for a moment before the older boy turned and walked away, the younger at his heels. Once they were away from the mob, Alby stopped and turned to Newton. "Just a few things before we start the tour. One, don't ask any questions until I'm done talking. Interruptions piss me off. Two, don't run off. Three, we have to think of a better name for you than Newton because, sorry man, but that name sucks." He grinned as he said the last statement, but paused for a moment in thought. "How about Newt?" The blonde boy grinned back.
Newt lay on the blankets covering the hard, cold floor of the homestead, the soft snores of the boys around him plus the large amount on his mind keeping him awake. He wanted to go home. The problem was, he couldn't even remember what home was. Were his parents alive? Did he have a brother? A sister? Friends? Did he do something wrong to get sent to this place? Was there something wrong with everyone here? Why, he asked himself over and over, why?! A gentle poke on the shoulder interrupted his thoughts. Newt couldn't help but jump just a bit, surprised. He turned around and saw Alby sit down next to him.
"You okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice. Newt flushed.
"Bloody hell no! This isn't exactly a normal, comfortable situation to be in! I don't even know why I'm here! Did we do something wrong? Did something happen to my family? It's eating away at me Alby and I don't know what to do!" The younger ranted in an angry, ragged whisper. Alby's face softened.
"The first weeks always hard, heck, I don't know any of that and I've been here for a quite few months. All we gotta do is power through this klunk and try to solve the maze. It's our only hope."
"I'm gonna kick the buggin' maze in the arse." Newt mumbled, sitting up. "Hey Alby," he asked, looking at the darker skinned boy, "Have you been out in the maze?" The boy shook his head.
"That's a runner's job. Not cut out for it." His tone kept Newt from pressing the matter further. He just looked down at the blankets, wringing his hands.
"Did you sleep the first week you were here?" Newt asked, eyes still not making contact.
"Not a wink. But I was one of the first ones here. No one really explained much to me." Newt looked up now, eyes wide.
"Is that why you're here? To explain?" He asked. Alby nodded. Newt smiled. "Thank you." Alby took his hand, laying down next to him with a sigh.
"First week's always hard." He repeated. "but it's gonna be okay, kid." He squeezed his hand, smiling at the ceiling. Newt decided then and there that he liked Alby.
"I nominate Newt as a runner." The dark-skinned boy said, staring at the rest of the council. Minho's eyebrows raised before he spoke.
"That skinny little shank?" Alby growled at him, but Newt sunk back in his seat, face growing red. The eyebrow slowly went back down. "Hmm, why?" He said, pondering.
"He's smart and fast; he can outrun me in a heartbeat and his logic is far better than most of the slintheads here. Not to mention emotionally strong, the shuck face cried half as much as you when you first got here." Minho's lip twitched into a snarl at the last statement. But you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he mulled it over.
"I trust you Alby, I really do. Are you sure?" Alby gave a nod that lacked any and all hesitation.
"Fine. We'll see how he does in training." Minho replied.
"Yeah you will. He'll make a great runner."
For the first time since entering The Glade months ago, Newt beamed.
Newt kept a steady pace as he jogged through the maze, feet thumping on the ground like a heartbeat and feeling just as natural. He felt he belonged out here, though, it was the first place he had felt like this when he wasn't by Alby's side. It was time for him to return to the glade, he was starting to tire and was happy to go back.
After making it through the gates, he proceeded to the map room, quickly logging his findings before he ran to Frypan's kitchen. A few mingled there, Nick and Alby included, but when Newt walked in, Alby jumped up and made his way over.
"Hey there Newt." He smiled and gave a wave.
"Hey ya ruddy shank, how you doin'?" He replied with a light punch on the arm.
"How was the maze?" Newt's brows furrowed.
"I'm starting to think we'll never find anything out there. Shuck maze just doesn't lead anywhere." He paused for a moment. "Hey Alby?"
"What?"
"How come you don't want to be a runner?" There was a painfully long silence and Newt started regretting saying anything at all. But, Alby after some hesitation, spoke again.
"I'm afraid."
"Of?" Newt questioned softly.
"The Maze, the grievers, getting lost, the changing, getting trapped in the maze at night. Everything Newt, I'm so shuckin' scared of everything all the time and I feel terrible about it." Newt's eyes widened. He had never heard is friend admit weakness, especially not to him. Alby seemed so stable, so sure of himself, he was truly surprised. He took his friend's hand under the table so no one could see.
"There's nothing wrong with being scared Alby. I'm scared every time I walk into that maze. I'm scared every time I spot a greiver, I'm scared every time I start to make my way back in fear that I won't. I'm scared all the time Alby. The best thing you can do is kick that fear in the bloody arse and show that shuck-face whose boss." Alby, whose eyes had been burning holes in the grease stained wall had finally shifted back to Newt. He smiled, a true genuine smile, the biggest one Newt had ever seen him give. He squeezed his hand tightly.
"Good that."
Newt was lost. He knew where he was, sure, but that wasn't what he was thinking. He had given up. If he had nowhere to go, why did it matter where he was? And how would he know if he didn't care? Yes, Newt was lost indeed. He sat down on the ground with his head on his hands, a tear trickling down his cheek.
"The bloody thing can't be solved. The stupid buggin' maze is unsolvable. We'll be stuck here for the rest of our shuck lives." He whispered, shock creeping into his voice. "And they're's nothing we can do about it." The last realization hit him like a brick to the head and he visibly winced. He looked up at the same sky he'd been looking at the past seven months and sighed. What was the point anymore? He paused for a moment, deep in thought. "Well maybe there is something I can do about it."
He stared at the wall in front of him.
"Tomorrow." He breathed.
"Hey Alby?" Newt questioned, poking the elder. They both should have been asleep and whether or not Alby was before was unclear, though he rolled over to face the other boy.
"Hmm?"
"Do you like me?" Alby's eyebrows raised.
"Of course, you're my best friend." Newt felt his heart drop. He faked a smile.
"Thanks. You're mine too."
"Great, now go to sleep, shank."
Newt left early that morning, making sure not to stir anybody so he wouldn't have to feel guilt upon seeing their faces. Or worse, answer their questions. He took off the second the doors opened, usually one of the last to leave due to his hesitation to roll out of bed in the morning.
He jogged forward a bit, for maybe half an hour before he stopped. It was far enough. He looked towards the wall, sizing it up before he set his pack on the ground. He grabbed a piece of ivy slowly, as if in a trance. He slowly began heaving himself up the wall. He hooked his sneaker on the ivy and grabbed vine after vine until he concluded he was high enough. He looked down, seeing his lonely pack resting on the otherwise barren dirt below. He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry Alby." He breathed. "I love you.
Then he let go.
Alby woke up with Newt gone. Odd, he thought to himself, he's usually one of the last ones up. He shrugged it off and went to Frypan's kitchen for breakfast, but didn't see him there either. Something was definitely wrong.
"Hey Frypan, you see Newt today?" The chef shook his head.
"Think he already left. The shank skipped breakfast, who knows why." He said before his voice hushed. "I sure won't take it as an insult to my cooking." He grumbled under his breath. Hmm. Maybe it had something to do with what he said last night. Alby thought long and hard, racking his brain for any reason for this odd behavior. Well, he'd just have to ask him when he got back. But in the back of his brain, warning bells were going off. Newt hadn't exactly been himself the last few weeks and Alby had certainly noticed, though he hadn't said anything. He was worried for his friend.
He went through his daily duties like a zombie, Newt on his mind the whole time. When it was almost time for the runners to get back, he made his way to the doorway to wait for the blonde. One by one, the runners made their way in, all tired and sweating, but still managing to jog their way to the map room with no problem. He felt a light pang of envy. Minho was the last to emerge, placing his hands on his knees as he doubled over, panting. He gave a wave at Alby, who waved back before calling out.
"Hey, you seen Newt?" Minho, too out of breath to speak, only shook his head before pointing to the map room.
"Gotta...go." He got to jogging again and Alby felt his hopes shatter. The doors would close in an hour. Against his better judgement, he took a step forward. Then another. Newt's words rand in his mind as he was now only centimeters from the maze.
"There's nothing wrong with being scared Alby. I'm scared every time I walk into that maze. I'm scared every time I spot a greiver, I'm scared every time I start to make my way back in fear that I won't. I'm scared all the time Alby. The best thing you can do is kick that fear in the bloody arse and show that shuck-face whose boss."
That's what he was going to do. He took a deep breath and stepped into the maze.
It was darker than he expected, the large walls casting towering shadows over the narrow pathway. Then something hit him. He had no idea where he was going. Right on cue, a loud scream erupted from far away that chilled Alby to the bone.
It was Newt.
He took off, full speed, following the sound of the boys screams as he turned corner after corner, pace increasing and any hint of fear of the maze replaced with a fear for his friend. After turning one final right, he hit a dead-end. There, lying on the ground, writhing in pain, was Newt. He was curled up on the ground, clutching his leg.
"Newt!" He rushed over, and it took the blonde a few seconds to notice he was there. He was in pretty bad shape. Mumbling feverishly, he was holding his leg to his chest and upon looking at it, Alby almost threw up. You could see the bone about to puncture the skin, making a giant purple lump swelling up from right above his ankle and from his heel to mid-shin was covered in red and purple blotches. His head was bleeding, as well as his arm and both knees. This was bad.
"What happened?" Newt gave Alby a look that said it all. In that look was grief, sadness, pain, and such a lack of hope that Alby couldn't believe his eyes. It was the saddest thing he'd ever seen.
"Get...get out of here." He whispered, trying to shove the older boy away. "Leave me." Alby blinked once in shock, twice to try and get the tears to not flow from his eyes.
"Why would I leave you here? You're hurt!"
"Don't want to be here...not anymore.." He panted, straining to stay conscious. "Can't take it." Alby let the tears go, dripping onto the injured boy beneath him.
"I thought we were friends. Don't you care about me? Aren't I a reason to be here?!" Newt smiled sadly.
"You have no idea." Alby picked the thin boy up, earning a scream followed by a muffled sob from Newt.
"Good. Then I'm getting you out of here."
"Alby, please." His voice was thin, weak, and trembling. It broke Alby's heart. "Please, just leave me. I want to die."
Alby started walking, still carrying the boy, not saying a word.
"Alby." The other boy said nothing, but started to jog.
"Please." His voice was nothing but a whisper now. Alby kept jogging.
He looked at his watch. They had six minutes. He ran. He ran for his life, he ran for the life of his friend, though he didn't want it, he ran for everyone in the glade that needed them both. He ran as fast as he could. But Newt, though far lighter than he remembered, was still a burden and he could only run for so long. He stumbled forward, slowing. The gate was in sight. They only had thirty seconds left and he pushed himself as much as he could, muscles screaming in protest as the gates began to rumble and he increased his pace. He could only think of one thing to do. He dived.
They flew through the gate and Newt screamed as he hit the ground, almost drown out by the final clang of the gated shutting. He curled up, clutching his leg, a sob ripping itself from his throat. Alby lay next to him, panting, unable to get up. A glader came running and before he could get a single thing out of his mouth, Alby yelled at him.
"Get those shuck med-jacks right now! Hurry." The boy nodded, and though Alby couldn't recall his name, he felt a rush of gratitude. He crawled his way over to Newt, pulling the boy close and running a hand through his hair. The blonde grabbed at his shirt in return, sobbing into his chest. The med-jacks came quickly and Alby sat up, allowing them to see Newt. There were still tears running down his cheeks, but he had quieted.
"What the klunk happened?" One of them asked, looking at the bone that looked like it might break through the skin at any moment. Newt looked to the floor, but Alby piped up quickly.
"Greiver attack, he fought it off before it could sting him, but it got his leg." One of the Med-jacks raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but they helped carry him off none the less. One turned and shouted over his shoulder.
"This is gonna take a while. We'll get you once he's all fixed up." Alby nodded. He watched them disappear before finally making his way back to the homestead. He couldn't believe what had just happened.
Newt had given up.
Newt woke up to a clammy hand gripped tightly around his own. He slowly blinked his eyes open and his face flushed red. Alby had fallen asleep in a chair next to his bed, head tilting back against the wall. Guilt washed over him in a tidal wave and he felt himself tremble again. Alby stirred, brown eyes opening slowly, staring at the ceiling for a moment before falling to Newt. He jumped, eyes widening before he pulled the boy into a gentle hug, careful not to jar his leg, which had been elevated and heavily bandaged.
"Don't you ever do that again." He breathed into the crook of his neck. He let go, but was still close, their faces only inches from each other.
"I won't"
"Promise?" Newt smiled sadly.
"Yeah."
"Good." Then Alby did something even he didn't expect. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the other boy's. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Newt before the kiss was quickly returned. Alby moaned into the warmth of the other's mouth, chastely breaking off the kiss and staring into the face of the other boy. They were both blushing furiously and staring awkwardly at each other before Newt started to smile. It was a big smile, taking up nearly half his face as he gave a cheerful laugh.
"You don't know how long I've wanted you to do that." Alby smiled back.
"I could say the same thing." He pressed his lips back to the younger boy's again.
Newt stirred, angry at himself for falling asleep. He wiped a stray tear from his eye, not realizing it had fallen in the first place. He was crumbling away. Soon, these memories would be forgotten and so would the boy who meant the world to him. He wouldn't let that happen.
Not Alby.
He wouldn't allow himself to forget the boy with the smiling eyes, the warm lips, and the caring heart. He would never forget the comforting touch of those calloused hands. He wouldn't forget about the boy who saved him endless times in every way he could have. He wouldn't forget the days with him, certainly not the nights, and he wouldn't forget the last thing Alby said to him and him alone when no one else could hear.
"I love you."