She was nearly sent into another fit as they tried to convince her it was okay to go outside; they'd spoken over each other all at once, and the chorus of their voices drowned her ears in too much noise. But the moment she fell to her knees pressing her hands to her ears they had finally quieted, seeing they were hurting instead of helping.

Newt was nudged forward and he found himself uncomfortable with having the weight of her on his shoulders, what was he supposed to do when she kept mumbling they wouldn't like her going outside, they were going to tie her up. It was sad, pitiful even, but it showed how far she was from sane. He knelt by her seeing her eyes shut tight and her mouth moving over words, her head bowed and her shoulders shaking. "Hey," he said trying to get her attention, though all it got him was the tightening of her shoulders. "Eleanor, hey just slim it okay. You left that place remember? You're not there anymore nothing's gonna happen." His words did little to calm her, instead she told him she shouldn't be there they'd come looking for her and they stick her arm and tie her down, and she just couldn't go outside. You bloody insane girl, he thought as he stared down at her not knowing what to do. He couldn't take her by the shoulders and shake her, that he could figure out would make everything much worse; and she wasn't listening enough to believe him when he said everything was okay. So he did what he had before, he spoke to her as if she were calm. "Did Gally tell you about the map room?" he asked, earning himself confused looks from the others. She didn't stop, she didn't move, but he nearly felt that her mind had paused at his words. "We have a map of the whole bloody maze. Minho made it, he was the Asian shank, you remember him?" he asked not expecting an answer, he was talking now just to talk because she finally quieted and stopped shaking.

"He called me a she-bean," she said. "I don't know what that is."

Newt almost smiled when she looked up at him, her hands still holding the sides of her head and her shoulders still drawn in, but she was slowly unwinding. "Yeah, that's him. He made the map and we really want you to see it," he told her watching her eyes widen. He looked up at a hand on his shoulder and saw Nick motioning for him to move.

Nick took his place and looked at her nervous face, feeling the same obligation he did last night to keep her safe. There was something about her that seemed to make them all feel that way; maybe because she was a girl and they were gentler than boys, maybe because she was so small, or the note that asked for her protection, or maybe it was obvious she'd been driven mad. "Why don't you stay here," he offered, taking note of when her body stilled – not realizing he'd been able to feel the fluttering of her panicked mind. "Jeff and Clint will clean you up and they can tell you more about the Glade. And after lunch I'll come back and ask if you again if you wanna see the map. And it's okay if you say no," he added when she shook her head.

Eleanor stared at him finding she was surprised he offered her saying no; she couldn't remember the last time anyone had let her have a say in anything – literally, she couldn't remember. But there was something they wanted from her, she knew that much; Newt said it first, they wanted her to see the map. "The maze is the way out," she said softly earning their surprise.

As far as any of them knew no one had hinted at the importance of her seeing the map of the maze; she might be jacked, but she wasn't stupid. "That's what we've been thinking," Nick told her. "Now that you're here," he left the end for her to finish, looking for another chance at hearing somewhere in her mind was a rational girl.

But she sat for quite a time staring at the floor, her brows furrowed deeply; Newt was a bit disappointed that she hadn't finished the sentence, having hoped there might be something resembling normal in her. Her next words surprised him though, she was smarter than he gave credit. "What if I can't remember it?" she asked, looking first to Nick and then to Newt behind him before her eyes fell once more to the floor as she waited anxiously.

It took everything Nick had to tell her that would be okay, because it wouldn't be. They wanted a way out, they'd been looking for one for a year without luck – they'd even spoken of a plan to lower someone down the Box. Now she was there, proving somewhere in the Maze lay freedom, and the only thing standing in their way was her broken mind. "We'll figure it out when we get there," he told her, which was not the answer she wanted to hear because it meant they were placing all of their hope on her very small shoulders. "Now, Gally and Newt have work to do so I'm gonna need them to leave. Are you okay staying with these sh-," he stopped himself from saying shanks, knowing she didn't understand it, "Jeff and Clint?"

She looked up at Newt before turning to Gally behind her, seeing them both waiting expectantly for her answer. "I'm fine," she told him, it suddenly dawning on her how she must look to them cowering against the wall. She didn't want either Newt or Gally to leave, they were the only people she knew for certain wouldn't hurt her – but she didn't want to be a burden either. The poor mad girl who couldn't be alone, it'd irritate them quickly.

Nick's brows rose at her words, not hearing much conviction in them but the fact that she said it made him think she might be alright. "Good that," he told her before standing and offering her his hand. She stared at it hesitating a moment before she let him pull her to her feet. The boys were all crowded around her, having stepped closer when she'd fell into a fit, and they saw just how small she was – if Gally had been standing in front of her she would've completely disappeared behind his broad shoulders. Nick looked over the top of her head to Gally. "She'd probably wanna bathe in a tub, however long she's here. Can the Builders make her one?"

"A better one than what you made us," Jeff added. "That klunk leaks everywhere." After Gally's agreement the three boys shuffled out, Newt looking back to see her eyes following them morosely, until it was just the Med-jacks and Eleanor. "No one's gonna hurt you," Jeff assured her. "I think Gally would throw whoever tried to the shuckin' Grievers," he said looking to Clint laughing at how true it was.

She didn't know what a Griever was, she didn't know Gally or that he was mean enough to scare the other Gladers from trying anything. So she turned to look out the small window and stared longingly at the bright landscape.

"Do you want a bath?"

She looked down at herself to see the dirt smudged on her legs and clinging to her hands – she hadn't had time to realize how dirty she was. Though her thin dark brows where drawn together when she looked up at Jeff. "I have to go outside to take it, don't I?" she asked him unhappily.

He smiled amused by the look on her face. "It does leak," he told her. "But it wasn't really made for a person to sit in, just to wash clothes and rags when people are sick; you might be small enough though."

…

It took quite a bit of coaxing to get her past the doorway to the stairs. Clint had to point out that she wasn't going anywhere since she was still inside – but she was having trouble letting go of the fear that came when doing what she wasn't supposed to. And it'd been ingrained in her head so deep that breaking the rules was bad, that even without her memories she still couldn't break them.

"It's good everyone's done with breakfast," Clint told Jeff quietly, "she probably would've run back in the room at seeing so many people staring at her."

They were the only three in the Homestead, it was completely silent, and so she heard what he'd said and her mind caught on the word breakfast. "How long have I been here?" she asked, her foot landing on the last step leaving her to look around at all the shabby beds the Builders had made.

"You got here yesterday, slept through the night." Jeff and Clint watched her pick up a fork someone had left and scratch something into the wall. She made two little lines by the doorway, her hand carving as though her muscles had the movement memorized. They watched her mouth something, moving a slender finger from one line to the next, before she stepped back.

"One four six three." She stared at the two lines wondering what they meant, seeing very clearly in her mind hundreds of tallies stretching over a wall – this was something she'd done so often it wasn't even a thought to her. She didn't need memories to know to do this, her body remembered. But what does it mean? "Where's the bath?" she asked turning from the scratches she'd made.

"Right outside," Jeff told her quietly, sharing a look with Clint to see he'd realized what the numbers meant.

She stood in the doorway squinting against the bright light trying to convince her feet to step forward – she wanted to go outside, she wanted it so much she could feel the warmth on her skin. But her feet wouldn't move. Jeff finally gave up and pushed her gently, knowing it might throw her into another fit but he honestly just wanted to see what she'd do.

It was almost funny. She gasped before she lunged back inside and pressed her chest against the wall, looking panic-stricken outside as though someone was going to come for her. Jeff could tell from her deep breaths her heart was racing but she wasn't mumbling any words, just staring wide eyed out the door waiting for something that wasn't going to come. He shook his head when Clint stepped forward, wanting to let her work it out herself. The two boys stood for no less than five minutes watching her inch closer to the door; until finally she quickly skated around the wall and pressed her back against the outside of the Homestead to stand in the sun.

"I didn't think the Greenbean would actually do it," Clint said almost happily.

Jeff was happy too, almost proud that she'd done it. He peeked his head out to see her eyes wide with amazement as she looked all around her, the corners of her mouth turned up sort of smiling – she was almost beautiful.

She turned to him and nearly grinned, though it was nothing more than a twitch of her mouth before her lips were once more straight – she wasn't used to smiling. "I didn't think I could do it," she told him softly. She could still barely believe she'd done it; she was so sure an alarm was going to sound and people were going to rush toward her, her arms trapped in their hands and a sharp prick would pierce her neck. But in a blind rush of determination she'd stepped out, though she hadn't gotten much father than the side of the building.

Jeff returned her smile. "Tub's this way," he said leading her around the building, leaving Clint to find the Bricknicks to get water. The place they'd put the tub was on the side of the Homestead where it faced the maze wall, which was convenient for her because the only people who'd see her out there were him and Clint.

He hadn't been lying when he said it wasn't made for a person to sit in; she might barely fit in it if she sat with her knees to her chest. She crept closer to Jeff when a line of boys suddenly started walking toward them carrying buckets of water; the first time the five boys saw her she was standing behind Jeff peeking around him. They would later comment on her wide brown eyes, her pretty face, her slightly parted lips – it was the look of a startled deer, sweet and endearing. They would then leave and begin the rumors that she was the most beautiful girl who ever existed – and as far as any of the Gladers could remember she was.

She didn't step out from behind Jeff until the last boy disappeared around the building, and then she turned to the already leaking tub. "Eleanor," Jeff said suddenly making her jump as she turned back to him. "You have to take the gown off," he reminded her, having been watching her about to step in still clothed. "And the shoes," he added though he wasn't sure they were shoes, it looked someone had cut the top part of the shoe leaving only the bottom and enough to cover her toes – they were slippers, though neither of them knew it.

It was a moment of looking down at herself before she realized of course she had to take off the dress, she couldn't bathe still wearing clothes. She didn't know why she'd forgotten something so obvious. "Sorry," she said embarrassed, but he brushed it aside not wanting her to worry about it – she'd woken to quite the shock that morning, considering her scars were so deep she still acted on them even if her memories were gone, it amazed him she was still standing.

He took one of the buckets and poured water over her head, wetting her long tangled brown hair. Handing her a bar of soap he continued cleaning her hair, checking the amateur stitches Clint had done, before pulling apart the tangles. "Hey," he said softly when he saw her face. "Why are you crying?"

She brought a hand to her cheek, though it did nothing more than erase the tear with her wet fingers. "I don't know," she told him honestly, having not known she had been, "I just feel sad."

She didn't think it was much of an answer but it was all he needed to know. When he and Clint had convinced her to eat another slice of bread – having to break off small pieces and give them to her to keep her from scarfing it all down at once – they walked to the map room to meet with Nick, Minho, Newt, and Gally. And while she stood beside Newt telling Minho the map was incredible - and it was with the intricate details of every part of the maze they'd explored, making him nearly swell with pride at hearing her praise – Jeff spoke softly to Nick.

"I think I might've figured out why she's so jacked, "he told him. "You remember those numbers she kept repeating?"

Nick nodded. "Four one six, something," he said not remembering the order.

"One four six one," Newt told him quietly, listening to their every word as Minho asked if she recognized anything on the maze.

Jeff nodded. "We told her this was the second day she's been here, and it was like she was in some kind of trance – she carved two lines in the wall. I don't shucking think she knew what she was doing. And then she said, one four six three." He waited for Nick and Newt to turn to him shocked, but Newt only shrugged.

"So she counts the days," he said not understanding why that was stranger than anything else she'd done.

But Jeff shook his head. "Say she was in a hospital, if I'm right then she's been there one thousand four hundred and sixty-one days." The two finally turned to him at the word thousand, finally understanding why those numbers were important. "Me and Clint did the math, it's four shuckin' years. You saw how scared she was of going outside, like someone was gonna come hurt her. When I was washing her hair she cried but she didn't know why."

"Because she was being touched by another person," Nick finished for him, finding he almost felt sick. "So what are you saying?"

With a shrug Jeff sighed, hating what he was about to say because he liked the girl – she was sweet, in a jacked way. "What I'm saying is, don't put too much hope in her memory," he told him, having already given up the little hope he'd had in her knowing the way out; besides of course she'd been hit very hard over her already broken head.

Nick looked to Gally beside him when he felt a rough hand jab his arm. "You gonna do something or are you gonna let him work her into another one of her shuck fits?" he demanded angrily, having already told Minho to back off.

"Listen to me very closely," Minho said enunciating every word as though she were stupid child, "there is no opening there, I've run it almost a hundred times. You are wrong."

And this was where she'd break down and curl herself against the wall and begin saying something crazy, that or she'd cry – she certainly looked like she wanted to with her big eyes full of her hurt and her shoulders shrinking. But she surprised them, for another time that day. "I know I came in on the left, look at my sleeve it was the one that rubbed against the wall as I leaned on it," she said showing him the little holes that had snagged on the rocks. It was logical, it was a lucid well thought out explanation for why her memory was right – however, her mind wasn't reliable and they'd all seen how jacked she could be.

"How many times," he groaned having already told her this twice now, and he'd reached the end of his patience. "There isn't an opening on the left. You go in and you go right, that's the only way. I'm not saying it again, look again or say your jacked head can't remember."

That'd been the end of Gally's patience. As Minho stared angrily at Eleanor's crumbling face Gally stepped around her and shoved him hard into the wall. "She told you what she remembers, that's what you asked," Gally yelled, shoving Minho again when the other boy tried to push him off.

The moment Newt saw her backing toward the wall turning in on herself he was at her side, knowing she was spiraling into another fit. "It's okay," he told her. At the sight of her sad eyes he was left wanting to put an arm around her, an inexplicable feeling because he'd never wanted to do that to anyone before. "Minho's not really mad, he just really wanted a way out."

"I came from the left," she told him pleadingly. "I know I did."

"I know," he agreed even though he knew Minho was right – Newt ran that path himself before his accident, there was no left. But he saw the hope in her eyes that someone was telling her she wasn't wrong – and he was left remembering what Jeff had said, that she'd been held or imprisoned for four years. "He'll calm down in a minute, he's just, could you two bloody slim it," he yelled turning to look at Gally and Minho. "He's a little upset is all," he said when he looked back to her. "Do you wanna go back outside?" he asked hoping to distract her from the still arguing boys. And he barely waited for her answer before herding her out the door. "We'll be by the Gardens," he called back to Jeff.

She didn't know where they were going, didn't know where he was taking her – but she stayed close as she looked around noticing boys stopping and gawking at her. It unsettled her that they stared, open mouthed wide eyed, like she an animal in a zoo; it's how she felt sometimes, trapped behind glass and people kept tapping. She walked with him to the northeastern most end of the Glade, past all the heavy eyes and the not hushed whispers, until they found a quiet corner to sit. He seemed more unhappy than she did, and she didn't know why – she didn't yet understand the want to leave or how much hope he'd placed in her knowing the way out. All she knew was it was her fault.

Newt didn't know how long he sat realizing they'd never get out before he finally looked at her, having tried and failed to convince himself it wasn't her fault. They'd have left by then if she remembered; if she wasn't so bloody insane they could've actually left. Or so he thought, because she was right in her coming in on the left – but the path that was created for her would never open again. "What are you looking at?" he asked when he saw her laying on her back staring intently at the sky. He followed her long thin finger, realizing she had lovely little hands, to where she pointed. "The sun?"

Her hand dropped back to her side, fiddling with the collar of her sweater as she continued trying to look at it. "I forgot what it was called," she said meekly, having realized by then saying things like that were strange.

And just like that his bitterness at her delicate mind was gone; something tightened in his chest at the thought of being locked away so long he couldn't remember the sun, it made him feel sad as he continued looking at her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help," she said so quietly it sounded like a breath. She couldn't hold his eye for more than a second before she turned away, knowing that was why everyone was upset with her.

He shrugged though he was still unhappy. "It's okay," he told her without meaning it. "We'll get over it."

She rolled on her side facing him, a hand curling beneath her chin as he laid down beside her. "Do you have birds here?" she asked him with the randomness only a mad person could achieve.

"Yes," he answered confused, his brows creasing deeply as he wondered what she was thinking.

It was a moment before she spoke again as she thought of how birds sounded and if she'd ever heard them. "I think I liked them," she told him finally, seeing his confusion deepen on his face as he nodded. A queer smile spread over her lips as she leaned closer, as though to whisper a secret. "Mustard isn't a bird."

There was absolutely nothing he had to say to that. Nothing at all. It was by far the strangest, most jacked thing anyone had ever said to him. And yet he watched her smile grow as she gave a small laugh – a hum of laughter, deep in her throat, still unused to doing things like smiling and laughing, but it was a laugh all the same. And he couldn't help but smile completely enraptured by this mad girl. "You're bloody insane." He shook his head still smiling, not even knowing why he was only that he couldn't make his mouth stop, and looked back to the clear sky. When next he looked back to her she was staring at the sky as well, wide eyes soaking it all in as though it were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" she asked him without taking her eyes from the blue of the sky.

He turned to her wishing she'd look at him, wanting to look at her face. "What?"

In her small breath of a voice she answered simply; "everything." And once again, she left him speechless.