Disclaimer: I do not own the Maze Runner series.

Third POV

Thoughts

Memories

The Consequences

"I can't bloody believe it," Newt exhaled, shaking his head.

They currently stood in a cottage of some sort; there were eleven chairs and a small table pushed to the wall. The previous day she had been told that this was the place when the Council met every week; that included all the Keepers, Newt and Alby. Now there was only her roommate… and Gally. Moon sincerely hoped that the others wouldn't appear here as well; the glares of the two boys were quite enough.

"I'm a bloody idiot for so easily believing that you turned into a 'docile sheep' so quickly… But this, well… I would never have guessed this," the blond boy said, arms folded, his eyes unreadable. "You're quite smart..." he added, but it didn't sound like a compliment at all.

"Thanks," Moon said uncertainly.

"Not as much as you think, though."

The black haired girl resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew she was in trouble, big trouble, but she couldn't help herself. This all just seemed a little too dramatic.

"Don't be so hard on yourself - you've obviously had your suspicions, otherwise you wouldn't send a guard here." She pointed to Gally.

"He actually offered himself," Newt informed dryly. "His paranoia about Greenies finally paid off."

Well, good for him.

The mentioned boy moved closer to Newt, and since he was still holding her arm in his iron grip, he dragged her there with him.

"What do we do with her now?" he asked, looking like he a lot of things on his mind himself. Moon was sure that she didn't want to hear any of them.

Newt didn't answer. He glanced towards the door. Chuck was coming into sight, comically dwarfed by Alby, who he'd been sent to get. The younger boy was immediately sent away, but before he disappeared from her view, he softly and somewhat ruefully smiled at her. Moon felt a glimmer of hope that was brutally trampled into the ground when she met the look of the great leader, who at this point looked like some God of Death.

"I heard you tried to escape into the Maze while everybody was sleeping," he said in a hard voice, his eyes piercing through her.

"Um, do you have any proof?" Moon tried to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but then she met Newt's eyes and she knew she should shut up fast. Her comment was, mercifully, ignored.

"I thought we have explained our rules to you clearly enough, but apparently not," Alby said coolly. "So once again… seeing as you can't appear to remember them. Everyone in the Glade, girls included, except the Runners, are prohibited from going into the Maze, is that clear?"

Moon quietly nodded; another reaction at that moment was out of the question. They were all so damn mad...

Alby took a step closer to her, but he didn't look any less intimidating closer up - quite the opposite.

"Are you going to do something like that again?"

"No," Moon replied calmly. Because I doubt that after this I will get a chance to do it discreetly.

"Say it," Alby commanded. "Say that you'll never try to run into the Maze again."

Moon blinked. "Well-"

"Say it!" Alby snapped sharply.

The black haired girl hardly swallowed, Gally's grip started to ache.

"I'll never try to run into the Maze again," she said eventually.

"Good that," Alby said and for her relief, he finally left her personal space. "But don't think that you are gonna get away with it so easily. Any violation of the rules brings consequences." He turned to Newt, whose firm stance hasn't changed since they had walked inside. "Any suggestions?"

"There is such a thing as a warning, you know," Moon said innocently and immediately met Newt's glare.

"I gave you dozens of warnings," he said coolly. "You just wouldn't listen. I say no breakfast and in the Pit till lunch. Then Clint will take her off our hands."

Oh, yeah. Today was the day to try to be a Med-Jack.

Moon couldn't even think about how the word 'pit' sounded scary when Gally snapped back.

"Are you shucking kidding me? That's not enough!" he growled. "She tried to trick us, she planned it!"

"Slim it, Gally, this is her third day," Newt told him bluntly.

"Yeah, it's her third day!" the Builder emphasized the last two words. "Third day and she's already this nasty-"

"That's enough," Alby ended the argument. "I agree with Newt."

"Of course you do," Gally snorted. "When have you not?"

"Shut it, Gally, and back to work," Alby commanded. "You proved your point, now go."

Gally released her and Moon felt the blood rushing into her left hand again. Her thumb started to rub the spot where Gally had been holding her, but it stopped in mid-motion when Alby pointed his finger at her.

"You," he said firmly. "With me."

Then he walked out of the building. Moon followed him, once again turning to Newt, not really sure way. His face was unreadable, but his dark, brooding eyes said a lot...

xXxXx

The Pit was... a pit. Literally. It seemed that the Gladers had dug until they had come across rocks and then built a wooden lattice above the hole. It was cold in there - probably the only positive thing about it. One half of the Pit was fairly smooth, but it was still uncomfortable to sit on the hard stones. Moon leaned against the wall and sharp rocks were digging into her back. She had enough of it already, and she'd only been stuck in there for a few minutes.

The small, enclosed space slowly started to weigh on her. Her lungs suddenly felt too small and her breath turned shallow. It only took her a minute before she figured out what was wrong with her. She was claustrophobic. Yeah, this was definitely claustrophobia… It was unbearable. She could feel the pressure inside her ears and her arms were clenched in painful spasms. She knew she had to think about something else, or otherwise, she would go crazy.

Her plan failed. That definitely wasn't a step in the right direction, given the fact that a terrible frustration hit her with a force of a wrecking ball. She could have been outside, far away, but instead… she was here.

But no, that didn't matter. She would come up with another plan. She would never give up, never, she would get out one way or another. Screw Alby. Screw Gally - what was his freaking problem, anyway? Why the hell did he even care if she stayed in the Glade or not?

The image of Newt and his intense gaze appeared in front of her eyes. God, he seemed so angry… It was easy for her to trick him because he really wanted to believe it. He wanted to think that she had calmed down, that he finally had got her to understand. Something like this probably won't sink in fast…

The walls of her prison were closing on her - so much for thinking about something else. Moon moved as close to the bars as she could, ready to find something for distraction. She didn't have many options. She saw the western Wall and in the distance - Gally and other Builders were mounting some kind of construction. Moon rolled her eyes to the sky. It was blue, without a cloud, surrounded by a big yellow sun.

The sun.

It was so strange, she looked right at it and her eyes didn't hurt. It was bright, yes, but she could watch it without squinting. It didn't even dissipate around the edges, as it should. Moon thought about it so hard that the pain in her head worsened, but she couldn't let it go. Not when her instinct advised her otherwise. The sun was odd.

That sun was different...

The sun.

She was standing in a room full of papers, and each of them had a sun drawn on it. One and the same picture all over and over again. It was warm, but it didn't blind.

"Don't you know what that means?" an unfamiliar velvet voice said mockingly. Moon turned around, but the room was empty. There was nothing in there except for the strange, haunting pictures…

"Don't you realize?" the voice repeated, taunting her. The words seemed to echo around the hollow cavities of her skull, again and again, an endless torture…

"Hey!"

Moon winced and started to blink frantically because the world around her was just a big smudge. It took her a while before she managed to focus on Newt, who stood above her, his hands folded across his chest. His eyes were softer… Maybe he had cooled off a bit through the morning.

"You realize that this was supposed to be a punishment, not an opportunity for you to take a bloody nap, right?"

Or… maybe not.

He opened her prison and Moon could finally breathe freely.

She slowly climbed out, stretching her arms and running her fingers through her hair.

"Geez, that was awful," she murmured softly.

"I do hope so," Newt said without the slightest hint of compassion.

Moon looked at him with a slight frown.

"You're so mean when you're… mean." Well, it seemed that today she could just carry a conversation fine.

The boy didn't respond to her comment. Silently, he led her through the Glade away from the Pit. Moon felt like a prisoner on a walk of shame. Instead of watching her surroundings, she raised her eyes to heaven. No, it wasn't just a dream.

That sun was weird.

"The sun is strange," she said matter-of-factly.

Newt turned his eyes to her with an unamused expression.

"You were in the Pit for a few hours, and you're already going nuts?"

He didn't even look at the sky.

Moon's fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. There was no point to talk to him now when he was noticeably still fairly upset. Additionally, if he hadn't noticed it in three years, what was the likelihood that he would notice it now? And what about the others… haven't they noticed? Maybe it was because they couldn't remember anything, so they would hardly know what the actual sun had looked like… But Moon didn't remember either that she had seen one before.

"We're here," Newt told her somewhat unnecessarily as he opened the door of the Med-Jacks' hut. There was a red haired boy with a freckled face inside, sitting on a chair next to a cot. It was apparent from the first sight that he wasn't brimming with enthusiasm. "Here she is, Clint, have a nice time," Newt said sarcastically and left.

The hut was plunged into silence. Clint was watching her little unsurely and Moon became quickly bored by the quietness.

"Today is sure not his best day," she said with a forced smile, approaching the boy and holding out her hand.

"I'm Moon."

To her surprise and slight annoyance, the redhead was staring at her hand with wide eyes.

"What's your problem?" she asked, frowning. "I'm not radioactive!"

"It's not that," Clint muttered and stood up. "Alby told us that if someone touches you, he would castrate them himself." He uncertainly scratched his head.

Moon chuckled. Alby had a unique way of ruling, she gave him that. But she didn't withdraw her hand.

"I highly doubt that this is what he meant," she said with a softer tone.

"Sure," Clint nodded, a little more relaxed and gently squeezed her hand. "I'm Clint. I'm the Keeper of the Med-Jacks."

"That's what I heard."

"So, do you want to be a Med-Jack?"

"There aren't many options here, really. And gardening is kinda gross," Moon said in all seriousness.

Clint chuckled, scratching his nose.

"You are a girl, after all…" he said, but then his own words stopped him. "Wait... You won't pass out at the sight of blood, will you?"

Moon ran that idea through her head. Her mind contained a lot of pictures, but she couldn't remember that she ever had any direct contact with blood. Would she be sick?

"Well, I guess we'll find out."

Clint explained to her the basics of medicine. He spoke slowly and patiently, and Moon was doing nothing else but nodding for some time.

"How do you know all this stuff?" she asked curiously.

"They sent us books," Clint said, reaching for one of them and handing it over to her.

It was quite extensive and its packaging had no title on it. Moon thoughtfully ran her fingers across it and then opened it. It looked like a manual, very detailed written for laymen and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had read it already. The words seemed familiar to her, the pictures of anatomy, the Latin names of drugs...

"Is something wrong?" Clint asked when he noticed her frowning.

"Nothing," she smiled at him and closed the book. "So you had a lot of work with it, huh?"

"Not really," the redhead shrugged. "They sent us almost anything we need. Tools and drugs. And most of the time, we just treat scrapes and scratches. The worst are definitely the Slicers and the Runners. The Builders aren't very careful either. We've already had a lot of almost-separated fingers, sprained ankles and concussions. That reminds me, I heard that you came out of the Box pretty battered."

Moon blinked in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. A few bruises, no big deal."

"I can give you something on it."

Geez, thanks. You couldn't do it two days ago when the itching was killing me?!

"No, that's okay. I want to have a proof that I put up a fight before they managed to put me in that box."

Clint looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

"Uh, that was a joke," Moon said uncertainly. "I don't need anything, it's fading already." To prove her right she lifted her hand and showed him her wrist.

"Right."

One thing was clear - Clint was definitely not like Frypan. He wasn't one for messing around. The door burst open and revealed a boy, whom Moon had never noticed before, which was quite strange because he had a quite long, dark hair and his face was covered with acne. Anyway, he held a piece of cloth on his arm that was soaked in blood. When he saw her, he frowned. In a very hostile manner.

"What's she doing here?" he growled towards the ginger boy.

Moon raised an eyebrow at his tone, but Clint responded before she managed to take a breath.

"She is trying to be a Med-Jack. Just sit down, Winston, you're just in time."

The boy with pimples all over his face shook his head vehemently.

"No shucking way, I'm not doing her a lab rat!"

"Okay," Moon said casually. "Bleed to death, fine by me."

"That's not exactly a thing Med-Jack should say," Clint admonished her gently.

"Oh, sorry," Moon dutifully nodded, turning back to Winston with a sweet smile. "Please, sit down and let me have a look. Be good and you get a lollipop." Both boys looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm just kidding. We don't have any lollipops anyway, so…"

Winston looked at the Keeper, but Clint didn't seem willing do anything to help him, so he hesitantly sat on the cot. Moon pulled her chair closer to him, and as she looked at the wet cloth on his shoulder, she froze. The rusty smell of blood was slowly filling her nose. But she wasn't fainting yet.

"Is this really a good idea?" she turned to the red haired boy.

Clint nodded.

"It's best to learn by doing."

Moon shrugged. This guy wasn't likable anyway. Without warning, she pulled the rag from the wound and then examined it. It was flat, as if from a blade, not particularly deep, and it hardly bled.

"So, what do you think it would be best to do now?" Clint asked patiently, resembling some very old professor of medicine.

"Oh, you're shucking kidding me," Winston shook his head in disbelief.

"Disinfect it?" Moon took a guess and in return, she got a bottle of clear liquid. Her treatment began; the patient was twitching.

"So, what do you do, Winston?" she asked. Not that she would like to have a conversation with him - he had been nothing but rude since he stepped a foot inside - she was trying to distract him from the pain and stop him from moving.

Winston was silent.

"He's a Slicer," Clint responded for him eventually.

"How the hell did this happen to you?" Moon wondered.

Winston was silent.

"What, you are ashamed that you cut yourself when you wanted to scratch behind your ear and forgot the knife in your hand?"

Winston grunted. Clint stared. Moon wished Frypan was here. Or Chuck. Zart. Maybe even Gally. No, definitely not Gally.

"Hold still, boy!" she said impatiently.

"Don't call me boy, Greenie!" Winston said angrily.

"Don't call me Greenie, boy," returned Moon velvety.

"Are you done?" Clint asked nervously, probably sensing a bad end to it all.

"I think we need to sew it up."

"What?!" Winston's eyes widened.

"Actually, yeah, I think you're right..."

"Clint, no way that I'm gonna let her-"

"That's okay, lad, girls can sew better than boys," Moon gave him a fake smile.

Clint didn't look convinced. Winston was scowling like a thousand devils.

"Do not call me lad!"

"Whatever. Do you have any painkillers?"

"Clint!"

"I suppose you'll be more careful after this experience," Moon pointed out meaningfully.

"Yeah, that could actually be true," the redhead acknowledged surprisingly.

Moon didn't like blood, that was clear. The thought of a needle entering her skin made her feel weak. But stabbing a needle into Winston's was quite fun. This obnoxious guy probably helped her discover her sadistic side. She could feel his furious glare on her all the time.

What the hell is his problem? He can't even feel it!

"Care to tell me why you hate me so much?" she asked, without taking her eyes from his wound. "We literally just met like ten minutes ago."

"You don't belong here."

Moon blinked, raising her surprised eyes to him.

"None of us belong here, Winston. They put us here."

"You don't get it," Winston retorted with a wrinkled nose. "Everything was fine until you showed up. Now everyone just argues all the time and it's because of you! You're not one of us."

Moon stared at him, a bitter scent rising into her nose.

"Are you kidding me? You think I wanted to be here? You think I was dying to be in your little Boys town?" She turned her head to Clint, but he watched them with a blank expression on his face. He didn't seem to want to join either side.

"I don't care what you wanted. Everybody in here goes by certain rules for years, none of us had a problem with them, but you just had to show up and start making shucking trouble!"

"Are you really that dumb to talk to me like this while I'm holding a needle in my hand?! I would choose my next words carefully, if I were you!" Moon threatened, lifting a needle with entangled thread closer to his face.

Winston looked murderously at her but said nothing.

"Good call," she said coldly. "Now shut up and let me finish this."

The hut plunged into silence for a long ten minutes. Moon was, most of the time, trying to resist the desire to stab a needle deep into Winston's neck. She finished the sewing, Clint helped her bandage the wound and the Slicer shot out of the door without a word, fists clenched.

"You know how to make friends," Clint noted quietly.

"That's my specialty," Moon said, leaning comfortably into a chair. Clint stared at her. Sarcasm wasn't apparently his thing either.

xXxXx

This was definitely the worst day ever. She was caught, hauled across the Glade, given a brutal lecture, half of a day she spent in the Pit, that acne-boy cursed her for her existence, and now she walked behind an evidently still pretty angry Newt, who ever since he picked her up at Clint had not spoken a single word.

Moon didn't have the strength for this. She was tired, humiliated, frustrated and the blond boy, who represented the only link with her past that she had, didn't even look her and was making things a hundred times worse. The black haired girl closed the door to their room and wearily leaned against it.

"I'm sorry," she exhaled.

Newt slowly turned around, folding his hands across his chest, but said nothing. He just glared at her with those dark eyes of his.

"I don't apologize for breaking the rules or trying to escape…" Because I'm not really sorry for that.

"But I'm sorry that I tricked you."

The boy snorted, shaking his head. "For real?"

Moon frowned slightly.

"I'm just trying to be honest."

"Oh, so madam is trying to be honest now," Newt drawled out mockingly. "That's quite a change."

"What's your damn problem, Newt, I'm just-"

"You're the problem," Newt told her with a firm voice. "Don't you understand? You could have died today. Don't you bloody care?"

"Why do you care?" Moon bounced off the door and stepped closer to him. She tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her.

"What the hell kind of a question is that?" Newt exclaimed angrily. "Are you crazy or what? Oh, why do I even ask, of course you are! You are totally out-"

"I'm just trying to figure out if you care about everyone," Moon snapped. "or if you remember…"

Newt frowned in confusion.

"Remember what?"

"Me."

He blinked and stiffened. The room was momentarily plunged into a thick silence in which neither of them has broken their eye contact. Moon was pleadingly searching in his eyes.

"You remember me?" Newt asked calmly.

"I know you," she said in frustration. "I don't know from where or how, but I'm sure I've seen you before."

The blond boy looked puzzled, his hand pushing distractedly through his hair.

"You... This is... Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I don't know… Would it make any difference? You don't remember me," Moon said bitterly, hoping that he would prove her wrong. She wished for it so damn much.

Newt looked at her. After a long time, his eyes were bright again and full of compassion.

"No, I don't…"

Those words were cutting into her heart like a blade made of ice. He didn't feel the same thing when he looked at her… He didn't see the tiny light in the distance, he didn't feel just a little bit less lost… He didn't feel anything.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault. But she didn't.

"Yeah, me too."

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