A/N: First of all, thank you to those who had supported/favourited/followed the prologue of this story. Well, I now bring you the first chapter to my story, A New Beginning. I am sorry though, that you had to wait long for this chapter. I get distracted from reading crossover stories. So, first chapter, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for the plot. The rest belong to James Dashner, especially Newt.

oOo

It has been a month since the remaining Immunes have escaped to Paradise and left everything behind when they crossed through that Flat Trans. Thomas had moved on from Teresa's and Chuck's death and was living a happy life with Brenda. Aris had gotten over Rachel's death. The Gladers and Group B had forgotten the horrors of the Trials and the Cranks. Everyone had gotten over it.

Everyone, except Minho.

Minho couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried. There is always this one person keeping him from forgetting everything, and Minho knew who it was.

Newt. His best friend turned Crank. And Minho didn't even know whether he was still alive or not. Newt had become the Glade mother whether he liked it or not as time passed. He, Minho and Alby had formed a special friendship and no one understood how Newt could stand Alby's temper or Minho's rudeness.

No one understood how Newt could still be so nice even after all the horrors he faced. And maybe that had been what kept them going and not give up.

Minho sighed. He had missed his best friend. The last time he had seen the teen was at Crank Palace, where the blonde was demanding that they leave without him. Minho had been ready to carry him, drag him out of that place, Launcher or not. But the tears Minho saw flowing from Newt's eyes stopped him.

Newt was crying. That was enough for Minho to surrender to his demands. He had only ever seen Newt cry once. When Newt broke his leg from the fall and ended up living with a limp. Newt never cried when they banished the Gladers that broke the rules even though Minho knew his heart broke every single time. He didn't even cry when Rat Man told him he wasn't immune to the Flare. He had expected it all along.

Newt was a tough guy to break. He never cried for himself. He didn't even cry because of the pain from his broken leg. He cried because Alby made him realize that Alby would've killed himself too if he had died. Newt was the only person that was holding him back, and Minho would've made things worse. And Newt never wanted to be the cause of his friend's death.

And that was why Minho left Crank Palace without Newt. It wasn't just because Newt didn't want his friends to see him fully Gone. He was afraid that he would hurt them, like how he hurt the guard that had the Launcher. And he knew how much Newt hated that.

So Minho left his best friend in that shucked up place. He couldn't bear to see Newt crying one more time. He went to Denver with Thomas, Brenda and Jorge and was locked up in a shucking room by that shucking Right Arm that the slinthead Gally joined. And they were brought to W.I.C.K.E.D. headquarters to save the other Immunes in the Maze.

Then Thomas found this place that had a Flat Trans ready for them that leads to a place called Paradise. It didn't really seem like Paradise to Minho even after Teresa died.

Maybe it was because his best friends weren't there to live with him. Sure, Thomas is a good guy, but he had known Newt and Alby for two whole years and they went through everything together. But then he lost both of them to the Flare. Alby because he was terrified of the Flare. Newt because he had the Flare.

Minho broke the stick he was fiddling with, drawing attention from the others, but he ignored them. Why would those scientists create the shucking virus anyway? It just made no sense. Don't people usually stay away from viruses? And weren't viruses incurable in the first place?

"Minho."

Minho glanced at Thomas who had sat beside him. "What do you want, shuck face?"

Thomas didn't seem too bothered about Minho's rudeness, a trait only Newt had over the Gladers. Alby countered with rude remarks of his own, so he doesn't count. Maybe Newt told Thomas to not mind his rudeness or maybe that shuck face had learnt it from Newt himself.

There it goes again. His mind seemed to drift off to one particular direction, and it seemed that Thomas noticed as well. "What's wrong with you, man?"

Minho picked up another stick. "What do you mean what's wrong with me?" He broke the stick into half. "I'm shucking fine."

Thomas frowned deeply. "No, you're not. I can see it, you know. Your temper is getting worse these days. You're ruder than ever and you keep spacing out! This is so not like you."

"Yeah, well, so what?"

Thomas' frown melted into an understanding look. "You're thinking about Newt, aren't you?"

Minho glared angrily at Thomas. Why does he have to be so understanding? "So what if I am?"

Thomas sighed. "Minho, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

Minho stood up indignantly, shocking others who were watching silently. "If you're gonna tell me to forget them and move on, forget it shuck face or I'll mess up your already ugly mug."

"But-"

"No buts, slinthead!" Minho snapped. "You don't know what it was like to lose both of them. All I want to know is what happened to Newt! Is he still alive and past the Gone? Is he already dead?"

Minho could see Thomas tensed up at the word 'dead' and guilt filled his eyes, disappearing as soon as it came. And that made Minho suspicious. He got that sinking feeling that it wasn't Teresa nor Chuck's death he was thinking about.

He turned away from Thomas and headed for the beach.

"Where are you going?" Thomas called out.

Minho stopped, but he never turned back. "To go clear my mind. Don't bother following." And with that he jogged out of the forest.

Thomas stared at the retreating back and sighed. His talk with Minho hadn't gone as planned. But he needed to do this. He needed to get Minho to move on without revealing to him that Newt is dead.

As much as he wanted Minho to forget, he wanted it to be the same for himself too. True, as everybody had noticed, he had gotten over Chuck and Teresa's deaths. But that didn't mean he got over Newt's. Not when it haunted his dreams each night.

Please Tommy… Please.

BANG!

Thomas shivered. It was a wonder how he could even sleep at all. He could still remember that moment clearly. Hair ripped off in some places, shirt in tatters and pants looked no better, scratches and bruises on a face that would've sent girls swooning, a pale hand forcing his hand to point a gun at him, eyes filled with anger and madness…

He shook his head to clear them of his thoughts. It was a good thing he had closed his eyes and ran away. He was sure he wouldn't get a wink of sleep had he looked into Newt's lifeless eyes.

That was probably why he didn't want to tell Minho about Newt. He knew the man would be devastated and start becoming more withdrawn. Maybe that was why Newt chose him instead of Minho. Because Minho wouldn't do it. Because it would break Minho's heart.

A sweaty hand clamped on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. He turned to its owner, and there Gally stood, his face devoid of any expression even after watching the scene.

"How did the talk go?"

Thomas groaned. "God. And to think, he's our leader right now."

Gally shrugged and leaned on the wall Thomas was leaning against. "Can't blame him though. Shank's been friends with them for two whole years and they're pretty much the only ones that stuck with him through hell and back. He was horrified when Alby sacrificed himself to the Grievers, but he had to snap out of it and stop Newt, else he'll follow Alby.

And he didn't want that to happen. He can't bear to lose two of them in one go, so he had to force Newt to move on. Now with both of them gone, there's nothing holding him back from regretting what he didn't do."

Thomas stared at Gally in disbelief. "Were you watching us the whole time?"

Gally snorted. "'Course I did. What did you expect me to do? Pace around the room like a nervous sissy? I said it before. I was supposed to kill you. Didn't expect Chuck to jump in front of you like that."

Thomas sighed tiredly. "What do we do about Minho?"

"Just give him a little more time," Gally said. "Give him a little more time until he breaks."

oOo

Minho, who had long since stopped running, strolled along the cliff's edge overlooking the waves as it crashed onto the shore. He thought back to that day when they were still in the Maze and the Med-jacks had come out of room telling them that Newt would not be able to run anymore. He and Alby had rushed into the room and Newt was sitting there with his leg in a crudely made cast.

They had known from the start that it wasn't a Griever attack and made Newt promise them that he wouldn't attempt anything like that again. Then Alby took that chance to make all three of them promise not to die if they can't help it. Funny how Alby would be the first to break that promise by making that shucking useless sacrifice.

He kicked a pebble off the cliff, barely hearing the sound it made. Thunk.

Minho continued walking, pondering whether he should have stopped Alby from throwing himself to the Grievers and –

A sudden realization made him stop in his tracks. That pebble just now made a thunk sound. Shouldn't it have made a thud sound when landing on the sand? That is, if it really did land on sand…

Minho quickly scrambled over to the edge, crouching and bending over to see. There, lying on the golden shore was a body which was quite familiar to him. The person lay on his stomach, hood covering his head, but Minho was pretty sure he had seen the person before.

Sliding down the cliff as fast as he could, he ran over to the unconscious – could be dead – person. Looking closer, the person couldn't have been much older than him.

The teen's white long-sleeved hoodie was covered in dirt, turning the white into a murky shade of brown. His backpack had dropped to his side, which was getting wet because of the high tide. He also had a wristwatch similar to the Runners' strapped to his right wrist.

Minho was almost sure it was him, if it wasn't for the fact that no one should know of this place and no one could ever come here without a Flat Trans (or any noisy transportation without alerting the Gladers and Group B), but it wouldn't hurt to hope. He rolled the teen onto his back and gasped in shock.

There was no mistaking it. It was him.

That blonde hair. That square jaw. He had seen that face for as long as he could remember to not recognize it.

It was his best friend.

It was Newt.

oOo

So how is it for the first chapter? Please leave a review and tell me what you think! Also, if you like this story, keep an eye out for my future stories. I promise it will be interesting.