Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Maze Runner series nor any recognizable storylines from the novels/movies. I only own my character(s) and basic plot of this story. This is rated T for language and mature scenes.
present day
Amy took her time soaking the rag in the water spigot.
She grabbed a cup from the kitchen on her way there and after squeezing the excess water out of the washcloth she filled the cup with water before beginning her slow trek back to Med-Jack. She hadn't heard anything unusual ever since she left which must've meant Ben was healing.
In the back of her mind she wondered how he would act when he woke up. She knew the Changing did more than just spread poison. It made people remember things—things from before the maze ever happened, snippets of their old lives. People they weren't anymore. It was a chilling thought but she knew he'd never be the same.
When she approached the tent, Minho was gone. She could hear hushed voices coming from within the tent and she paused just outside the threshold of the entrance, straining her ears to try and hear what they were saying. After a minute or two she gave up and cautiously made her way inside, unsure if she'd be welcomed back so soon or not but also knowing that the cool washcloth and water were things Ben needed.
The boy was trembling on the bed when she stepped inside the room like he was suffering from a fever he couldn't shake. The once black veins had faded into a grey-pink but they were still visible underneath his pale skin. His cheeks had slightly regained their color but for the most part he didn't look like he improved much.
Alby stopped talking the minute he saw her and Amy felt like she'd intruded on a private moment but she held up the rag and water. Alby nodded in thanks and she dropped her arms, still holding the items loosely in her hands.
"How's he doing?" she asked quietly.
Alby glanced wearily over at Ben before shaking his head. "I don't know."
"Did it not work?" she felt nervous of the answer. The serum always worked.
"It did," said Alby, folding his arms across his chest. "But he's still in a state. He keeps going on about the same thing, over and over again just whispering it."
"About the evil stuff?" she asked, taking a few careful steps towards the bed. Alby twitched a bit when she got too close for comfort and she smiled a sort of half-smile. "I can take care of this, I don't mind," she held up the cloth and water again. Alby hesitated.
"Just be careful. I don't think he's completely lucid yet."
Amy pulled one of the stools closer to the boy's bedside and sat the cup of water on one of the nearby shelves before folding the rag. She then carefully placed the damp cloth on his forehead and his face spasmed a bit before settling. She put slight pressure on the rag, hoping its cool temperature would help.
With some effort Ben's eyes slowly opened, glossy and red. Amy felt a little more relieved to see that his natural hazel eye color had returned. It took a moment for him to regain his bearings but his eyes eventually shifted to meet hers.
"Hey buddy," she said with a calm smile. It looked a bit like he was seeing right through her but she kept talking anyway. "How're you feeling? Any better?"
Ben murmured something, mouth working to form proper words. She leaned forward a bit to try and listen.
"Evil," he said breathlessly. She pulled back, forehead creased tightly. "He's evil," Ben whispered again. "Please… you have to believe me."
"Who is?" Amy asked with a deep frown.
Two figures stepped closer to her nervously.
"Amy…" Minho muttered but she ignored him.
"He is," Ben said, voice weak but intense. Amy didn't understand.
"No one here is going to hurt you," she tried to reassure him, stroking his hairline above the rag with her thumb. His hazel eyes shimmered in the warm glow of the lanterns as he gazed up at her with a sense of urgency. There was a haunted look in his eye that alarmed her.
"Gonna hurt all of us," he stuttered before releasing a few painful coughs that wracked his chest.
She wanted to say more, try to soothe him as much as she could because the way he looked at her made her heart feel like it was shattering into millions of tiny pieces, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She lifted her head up to see Alby standing by her side, gaze resting intently on Ben's haggard breathing as he whimpered and whined, "He's evil, he's evil, he's evil…"
"I don't understand what's wrong with him," Amy watched as the boy's eyes fell closed again, eyelids twitching every few seconds like a nightmare was consuming him.
"It's just what the Changing does," Alby replied quietly. His voice was sympathetic but his eyes were guarded like he was waiting for Ben to start lashing out again. "C'mon, we won't know anything for sure until in the morning."
With Alby's persistent hand on her upper arm, she stood from the stool and placed the cup of water on top of it for easy access in case Ben got thirsty. She let Alby guide her around the bed and she came to rest next to Minho who continued to watch the boy he'd been running with for years with a clenched jaw and dark eyes. Amy reached down to grasp his hand firmly in hers and her lips twitched upward when he returned the grip.
Gally then quietly crept into the room, taking a stand on Minho's other side and Amy released Minho's hand in favor of resting her hands inside her pants pockets instead. Minho's empty hand closed into a tight fist.
"No change?" Gally asked.
"Not so far," Minho said stiffly, still watching the boy as he descended into a fitful sleep.
"Still saying the same thing?"
Amy felt like Gally knew something everyone else didn't. The question was redundant because even though Gally was anything but an open book, she could see it in his eyes that he already knew the answer.
"'He's evil,'" Alby repeated Ben's words. He took Amy's previous spot next to Ben and attempted to rouse the boy so he could drink.
Amy kept a close eye on Gally and something twisted in her gut at the look on his face.
"You know who he's talking about," she said, causing him to glance over at her. "Don't you?"
Gally bit the inside of his cheek, hands resting on his hips again and he seemed deep in thought.
"The Greenie," he finally said.
Amy was confused. "Thomas?"
"It's him," Gally said. Alby was distracted by holding Ben's head up so he could swallow the water and Minho was distracted by the pained look on Ben's face as he tried to drink. Only Amy seemed to hear what Gally was saying. "I know it's him," Gally continued, looking back at her with a twisted expression. "Because when I first saw the kid, I thought the same thing."
Amy tilted her head as if the movement would physically help her understand.
"What, that he's evil?" she asked incredulously.
"I don't trust him," Gally raised his voice a bit. Amy's mouth moved but no words came out and she ended up looking like a fish as she tried to find a logical way to respond. It bothered her that she really didn't know how to talk to Gally anymore, not after what happened.
"Why?" she finally asked.
Gally rolled his eyes and said coldly, "You wouldn't understand."
She really hated when people said that to her but she didn't get a chance to retort because Ben started moaning again and Alby tried to soothe him by turning over the washcloth
"Let's give him some time," Alby said, adjusting the rag on Ben's forehead before standing. The boy seemed to be slowly falling asleep.
Alby circled around the bed and gestured towards the hallway. Amy eyed Gally out of her peripherals before leaving the room. Before Minho left fully, Alby stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and gave him a comforting look.
"I'll run the maze with you tomorrow," he murmured and Minho gave a slight nod.
Once outside Gally traipsed coolly past everyone, slightly shoving Amy's shoulder with his as he side-passed her and she glared at the back of his head as he headed for the Homestead. She rubbed her shoulder even though it hadn't physically hurt as she watched him disappear into the hut.
The action stung and she couldn't help but curse Gally for his stubbornness. Before the Changing his stubbornness had just been a natural part of him, endearing even, but now it made him nearly impossible to get along with and she hated it. Now he'd probably give her the toughest jobs or hold the sunscreen hostage for the next week until he eventually got over it and started speaking to her again.
Alby watched him go with furrowed brows but Minho only rolled his eyes.
"I'm gonna go use the showers," Minho said. She tugged on his shirt sleeve fondly because it was the closest thing in reach and his lips quirked into a ghost of a smile before he headed off in the direction of the outhouse, pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants as he went.
A brief silence engulfed her and Alby before she looked over at him curiously.
"Hey Alby, you know where Thomas is? The Greenie?"
Alby pointed vaguely in the direction of the Homestead. "Should be over by the hammocks. Chuck's with him tonight."
Amy nodded to herself, pursing her lips. She felt the need to pay him a visit.
"Thanks Alby," she smiled softly. "See you later."
Alby gave her a two-fingered salute and she smiled a little because it was a trait he'd picked up from Nick that always stuck.
She took her time in approaching the hammocks. It felt nice outside considering the circumstances and there was idle chatter echoing from within the Homestead and carrying out into the canopies where the hammocks rested underneath. The newer kids were under a separate canopy than hers furthest from the Homestead and she weaved through the strewn shoes and baskets until she reached the other section.
Amy had a feeling that her need to greet the Greenies was clearly a sign that Newt had rubbed off on her. She wasn't a heartless person; she cared about all the boys so it's not like it wasn't a thought that naturally crossed her mind. She had an infinite desire to make sure that everyone around her was alright. But she had her own personal theory about herself that she was never one to approach someone so freely in her past life. Something deep in her gut told her she just wasn't that kind of person. Maybe she'd been shy? Maybe she didn't really have an interest to? She wasn't sure. But it was a thought that sort of lingered in the forefront of her mind whenever a new kid was brought up in the Box. It made her realize that even though their situation wasn't ideal, it still changed them as people. Maybe for the better.
A few lanterns were lit and scattered about the area like constellations. Faint snores were on the air and whispers followed in the breeze from those who were still awake. She rounded the section that housed the newest of the new and saw Thomas lying in his hammock across from Chuck who was chatting animatedly with wild hand gestures and all. The Greenie looked to only be half paying attention as his eyes watched the maze walls. Chuck was oblivious to the fact that half of his words weren't even registering to Thomas.
Smiling a little to herself, Amy took a few more steps into the light of the lantern that hung above Thomas' hammock. Chuck abruptly stopped talking once she got close enough and she laughed inwardly to herself at the deer-in-headlights look on his face. Who knew what he was telling poor Thomas but by how wide his little eyes were, it must've been something Amy wasn't supposed to hear.
"Hi boys," she greeted, tossing a friendly smile in Thomas' direction who perked up a bit at the sound of someone else's voice.
"Hey Amy," Chuck said, grinning nervously. "You didn't happen to hear any of that, did ya?"
"Hear what?" she asked innocently and the kid's grin relaxed.
"Okay good," he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm just gonna go… yeah," he stuttered a bit before sliding off his hammock, evidently in search of someone else's ear to talk off.
She smirked a bit before returning her gaze to Thomas who looked relieved to finally have a bit of peace. He swung his legs over the side of his hammock until his mostly-clean shoes touched the grass beneath it as he waited for her to speak.
Amy pointed to the empty half of his hammock. "Mind if I sit?"
Thomas jumped a little before moving over a bit more to give her room.
"Guess it's the least I could do," he said and she chuckled a little before closing the distance between them to take a seat next to him. The hammock rocked a bit and the two of them let it swing.
"Chuck's a very sweet kid and he means well but he doesn't really know when to stop talking," she laughed a bit. "I guess it's good to know that he's in such high spirits all the time."
Thomas nodded and played with his fingers. "Yeah," was all he said.
Amy bit the inside of her cheek. She could feel the awkward tension building and she had to remember that the Greenie probably didn't feel the most comfortable around her because they'd hardly spoken. It'd gotten to the point now where she didn't consider boundaries a necessity because all the Gladers had naturally transformed into one another's surrogate family. She forgot that the newbies didn't really feel that sort comradery at first and weren't always so willing to be accepted into that family.
"How're you holding up so far?" she went with asking. "Is it the perfect vacation spot you always dreamed of or what?" she spread her arms dramatically and it elicited a small laugh out of the boy that ended up sounding more like a huff through his nose than anything else.
"I guess I wouldn't really know, would I?" he asked rhetorically and she tilted her head a bit, considering.
"Fair point," she agreed.
They sat in amiable silence for another minute or two. Thomas constantly kept glancing up at the maze walls and Amy couldn't deny that he was considerably more curious than any other Greenie. Most of them would avoid looking at the walls and spend their first few weeks in a little protective bubble, blocking out all the bad stuff and pretending the maze didn't exist until they inevitably learned to accept it and move on. It sort of made her wonder why more weren't as curious as he was. It was a natural thing, wasn't it? To want to know more? She figured everyone else just didn't have the initiative to ask the deep questions.
She wondered how he did, or why, but came to her own conclusion that it didn't really matter.
"You know," she said quietly. "You can tell me you hate it here and it won't hurt my feelings. I'd actually say you were pretty spot on."
Thomas huffed again and shook his head.
"I just can't wrap my head around the fact that we're stuck here," he said. "Or that you've been searching the maze for years for a way out and haven't found anything yet. Or that the Grievers exist and they apparently sting people. I don't…" he trailed off, eyes glossing over as a faraway look shadowed his face.
"Believe it?" she finished for him.
"Don't want to believe it," he corrected her, finally turning his gaze to meet hers. He had a very boyish face with kind eyes, all sharp edges and clear skin. She had a feeling he was older than her but that could've just been the mature way he held himself. "I guess it doesn't help that no one seems to care either. Everyone's already used to this place – people have jobs, there's an order. And yet these things are just apparently waiting outside for one of us to run by and the people who put us here are watching it all happen."
Amy picked at the skin around her nails. "Kind of messed up, huh?"
Thomas chuckled dryly. "Understatement."
She smiled.
"You probably won't believe me when I tell you this since I didn't when I first heard it," she started and Thomas watched her, listening. "But someone once told me it does get easier. Not better, but easier. I know it's kind of a cliché thing to say but after a while everything here just becomes the norm. You get into a routine and you're able to forget about all of those things—the Grievers and the Creators. You can just focus on your jobs and pretend that everything's alright. Until something happens that reminds you of it all again."
Thomas gave her a look.
"That's exactly why it's not normal," he said and though he was mostly serious, there was an underlying hint of mockery in his words that made her guffaw.
"Okay Mister Glass-Half-Empty," Amy said and Thomas cracked a half-smile. "I guess I'll let those comments slide for now since you've barely been here twenty-four hours. Technically you're handling this a lot better than I did so I'll give you that."
"How long have you been here?" Thomas questioned after leaning down to pluck up some blades of grass. He let most of them fall and they watched them cascade through the breeze before he settled one between his fingers, playing absently with it.
"About three years now I guess," she said after doing the math in her head. "A few dozen boys have been brought here since me. But the Homestead was already full when I got here, though not all the same boys are still here," she frowned a bit, brief glimpses of old but familiar faces flashing through her mind. Nick was among them, along with a boy named Eric. "Others just aren't the same anymore," Gally, soon to be Ben.
"And you don't know why you're the only girl?" asked Thomas. She shook her head. "Doesn't it bother you?"
"Yes," she said honestly. "But there's no way to find out why they chose me. There might not even be a reason."
"If there's one thing I've learned about this place," said Thomas with raised eyebrows, "it's that it's all about routine. Everything's always the same."
"Yeah, but they like to shake things up sometimes to make it interesting. I think the one thing they like more than routine is to keep us on our toes," she poked her skin through a tear in her pants. "I have this theory that whenever they think we've gotten too comfortable they throw us a curveball to put us on edge again."
"That's comforting," he quipped.
"Anyway," she laughed a little, figuring it'd probably be best to steer clear of conversations like that while he was still so new. "Do you know what job you're going to start for Keeper training tomorrow?"
Thomas squinted a little. "I think I'm working with Newt. The Gardens, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You're lucky, it's probably the easiest job here. Unless you have sensitive skin like me and burn after being in the sun for five minutes," Thomas cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "Newt always goes easy on the Greenies. You'll be fine."
Thomas gave her a curious look. "You guys are close, huh?"
"Me and Newt? Yeah," she shrugged. "You kind of have to be. It helps you survive, being close to someone. But after a while everyone just ends up being your family since you don't really have anyone else, you know? That you remember, anyway."
Thomas seemed hesitant. "You really don't remember anything? About yourself or who you were?"
Amy's lips turned downward. "No."
She leaned back against the hammock and Thomas waited a few seconds before mirroring her and they faced each other.
"I've gotten flashes of things before," she told him, "but nothing that's made sense. Whenever I smell the sunscreen I can sort of feel sand between my toes, telling me that I've been to a beach before. I hear this faint echo of laughter in my head sometimes when I eat ham. It makes me think of a bunch of people sitting around a table for dinner," she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Thomas seemed fully absorbed in her words, listening carefully and latching on to every detail. "Stuff like that. I never see any faces or remember any names. Nothing besides my own."
Thomas was clearly troubled by that and Amy couldn't blame him. The flashes made her uncomfortable, unsettled. As odd as it sounded, she didn't like when she got them. A small part of her didn't want to remember. She didn't know why that was.
"The serum makes you remember," she said suddenly and Thomas' head jerked up.
"Serum? Like for the Grievers?" he asked. There was an anxiousness in his voice she didn't like.
"Yes but you have to get stung first before you can take it," she said and he deflated a bit at that. Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't do anything stupid," she warned him honestly. "You've only just got here. Try to blend in a little first before you decide to do something reckless that'll tick off the Creators."
She meant it as a joke but that bad feeling she had earlier was weighing heavy in her stomach again. She wondered briefly if maybe she shouldn't have told him about the serum but forced the thought away.
Surely he wasn't stupid enough to do something like get himself stung on purpose.
day six—three years ago
She was in the Glade.
It was either the middle of the night or it was very dark, she couldn't tell. She looked from side to side in confusion.
In the darkness her eyes weren't able to focus on much but she could easily tell that she was standing in an empty, open field. The buildings were gone, as were the hammocks. The forestry still rested on the far end of the Glade but something didn't seem right. The area was too open. Her mind didn't let her concern herself with the missing buildings or even why she was standing there alone. Instead, she found herself incredibly uneasy and it took a good minute before she realized why that was.
The maze walls… they were gone. The land was open, a free for all.
She felt panicked as she jerked forward at the realization, circling around slowly as if expecting to find a Griever waiting for her on the edge of the deep horizon. Something unpleasant tingled in her gut, an unnerving sense of foreboding. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end like a wave of electricity had circuited through the air. The atmosphere crackled and flickered and she was shocked into stillness at the lightning strikes that lit up the sky. They cast an eerie glow over the field, lighting it up for a split second before it all went dark again
As she turned to face the woods lightning flashed again and something silver glowed between the tree trunks. She narrowed her eyes, muscles tensing up in suspicion.
Lightning flickered overhead again and her eyes widened as they caught sight of a long, thin metallic leg. She was paralyzed, feet rooted to the dry grass with a fear that locked up her joints. Another leg appeared, and another, and another, until the entire lower half of the beast was exposed. An unsettling shadow cast itself upon the creature's upper half obscuring it from her sight, but beneath the haze a glowing pair of white eyes gleamed dangerously even when the sky was black and her breathing hitched.
What did she do? What was she supposed to do?
'Run, Amelia…'
She flinched, tossing her head about as she heard the voice whisper in her ear. Where did it come from? Was it speaking to her?
'Run, Amelia…' it hissed again. 'Run and don't look back…'
She stopped short. The voice was coming from inside her head.
The creature's legs clicked before whirring to life. Their heavy footfalls stomped on the ground, shaking the earth beneath them as it darted straight for her.
With a guttural roar it snapped at her. She gasped and pulled her legs free from the soil, slipping in place slightly before she was able to turn and start running. She felt a scream bubble in her throat as she felt its nasty wet breath on her neck.
'Run, Amelia, run, run, run….'
With a strangled gasp she darted upright, heart plunging into her throat as she felt the hammock swing shakily beneath her, throwing off her equilibrium.
She quickly steadied herself before she put a hand to her chest, coughing slightly at the adrenaline that raced through her veins. She felt hot and sweaty and like she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Her eyes felt weak and tired as she squinted into the night. The canopy still sheltered her from above, a few boys were sleeping in the hammocks around her, and she was able to see the silhouette of the Homestead off in the distance. The maze walls were still there barricading them within it and for once she felt relieved they were there.
She placed a trembling hand on her forehead. The dream disturbed her. She felt jumpy and on high alert even though her body begged for her to go back to sleep. She didn't bother trying. Instead she dwelled on what she had seen. She'd never felt so terrified knowing that a Griever was on her tail, salivating at the thought of her, its jaws snapping to life in her wake as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Her throat felt raw and she idly wondered if she'd screamed in her sleep but logic dictated that the boys would have been woken up by it.
She waited for her heart rate to calm down. She kept a hand on her chest until she felt comfortable with pulling it away. She took a moment to lean back in her hammock, the exhaustion weighing her down until an unnatural snarl echoed within the maze and she was forced up again by the all too familiar sound that clenched like a vice around her heart.
She felt hopeless and lost and so very much alone even if she could hear the snores of the boys surrounding her. She felt like she hadn't slept in months and her body was nearly running on empty. It was hard for her to gather a coherent though and she felt bitter and fragile
The more she was left with her thoughts the more she had time to reflect on what had happened earlier that day with Ray. She could still feel his hands on her skin, burning handprints into her flesh as he forced her onto the ground. It made her feel physically sick and she had to force the memory back into the deep recesses of her mind before she panicked. Then there was that odd shifting of concrete that she'd heard on her first night rattling beyond the maze walls, pulling her out of her disturbing thoughts.
It wasn't pleasant background noise and before she knew what she was doing, she tossed her legs over the edge of the hammock and felt her toes curl around the blades of grass beneath her feet. It was cold out, the breeze nipping at her sweat-soaked cheeks and chilling her to the bone. She couldn't just sit there anymore.
She quickly snatched up her blanket and wrapped it around herself like a cloak. Her bare feet padded silently along the grass. Her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and she was able to find her way around wayward logs and work benches that were scattered haphazardly around the area.
Before she knew it she reached the Homestead and she glanced cautiously up at it, hesitating.
She wasn't sure if she intentionally meant to go there or if her feet just carried her there on their own. Either way, she quietly slipped through the open doors and was greeted by faint snores, a few boys murmuring in their sleep as they shifted beneath their blankets. She wrapped hers tighter around her shoulders and sought out a certain bed, carefully trying not to bump into another or wake someone up.
She found it at last and she gazed down at the tousled blonde hair as the lanky boy slept peacefully on his stomach, arms curled around the flat pillow he rested his head on.
Eyeing the beds around her to make sure no one noticed she was there, she knelt slowly until she was nearly eye level with Newt. His mouth hung open slightly as he breathed deeply in his sleep and she felt bad for deciding to wake him. Part of her felt obligated to quickly leave before he realized she was at his bedside, but the other part of her – the much bigger part – was feeling selfish as for once she was certain she didn't want to be alone.
With that, she slipped a hand out from underneath her blanket and poked his bare shoulder gently.
"Newt," she whispered. She lightly rested her hand there and shook him. "Newt," she said again and his legs shifted a bit before his eyes cracked open.
He blinked a few times until her face came into view and she pulled her hand away. Newt squinted and rubbed his eyes with a low groan.
"What's wrong?" he asked, voice husky and laced with sleep. He gazed at her again, eyes less glossy and much more alert after rubbing them as he took in her small form. "Are you alright?" he asked, propping himself up to rest on his elbow. "You look exhausted, love. Have you gotten any sleep?" she noticed his accent was much more prominent when he was half asleep.
She bit her lip. "Um, a little," she said softly. "I had a nightmare."
Newt nodded, eyes skimming her face. "Okay," he said after a moment. "That's alright," he fell back onto his bed and stretched a little, his shirt riding up to his stomach as he kicked away his blanket.
She hesitated. "There was one good thing that came from it I guess," she said. He gazed over at her questioningly as he rubbed a hand through his bedhead. The light of the moon cast a certain luminescence over his face, enunciating his jawline and making his pale skin glow. "I remember my name."
Newt's eyes widened a bit.
"Really?" he asked, sitting up.
She nodded and stood up, once again checking to make sure no one else was awake. He threw his long legs over the side of the bed. He looked as though he wanted to say something but he seemed to have thought better of it once he realized they had company.
"C'mon," he quietly said, placing a hand on the small of her back to steer her out of the Homestead.
They navigated their way through the sea of beds and sighed a bit once they crossed the threshold outside. Her mind was still rather foggy from lack of sleep but the fresh air untangled her thoughts a bit and relaxed her shoulders.
Newt's hand fell from her back and he stuffed his fists inside his pockets. "So?" he asked expectantly.
She exhaled slowly. "Amelia," she said, tasting the name on her tongue and finding some familiarity as her mouth formed around the word. "My name's Amelia."
"Amelia," Newt repeated. He glanced over at her with a half-smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Amelia. I'm glad you finally got your name back."
"Yeah," she said softly, gripping the blanket tighter as she watched her feet.
"Are you cold?" Newt asked, sounding concerned. She smiled a little despite herself and shook her head.
"No, it just makes me feel… safer," she said, for lack of a better word.
The two of them reached the edge of the woods and came across a familiar tree trunk. Without speaking, she took a seat against it and Newt sat beside her, his left side pressed flush against her right. It helped aid in her comfort and she didn't protest the closeness.
It hadn't escaped her notice the way Newt kept a respectable distance between them in order to not make her feel nervous. She appreciated the gesture but she was beginning to realize that she craved comfort through physical contact. She assumed that was a trait of hers from the past that she always had. It made her think back to her first night in the Glade when she wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright. Sometimes she still wanted that, which would return the heartache of missing her family. If she did indeed have one to miss.
She winced a little as she gazed at Newt's tired face out of the corner of her eye. He looked like he was zoning out, eyes watching the eastern wall without really seeing it.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, waiting until he looked at her before clarifying, "for waking you."
Newt shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
He ran a hand down his face before bringing his legs up to his chest and resting his arms on top of them. He held a long blade of grass between his hands and his thumb stroked along the contour of its surface. She was distracted as she watched him, feeling her eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each passing second.
"So you're not sleeping," Newt finally said. She blinked herself out of her trance.
"It's not exactly by choice," she defended herself quietly. Newt's eyes met hers knowingly. "It's just hard… I'm not used to this place. My mind doesn't want me to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I get scared."
"What are you scared of?" Newt asked, not unkindly.
Amelia shook her head.
"I don't know. I just don't feel safe," she watched the leaves stir and rustle in the wind. "I think about the Grievers. That's what I dreamt about tonight. Other times I just think about my past. Wonder what my life must have been like," she turned to Newt with a frown. "Is it bad that I don't even know myself? I don't know how I should feel. I don't even recognize the feelings I do have."
Newt nudged her shoulder with his in a comforting sort of way.
"It's not bad. It's just normal. We've all felt this way before. It doesn't seem like it will at first, but it does get easier. Eventually you'll start to feel comfortable in your own skin. I promise," his eyes scanned her face searchingly. He watched her eyelids drop and his forehead pinched when he saw her fight it. "You're tired," he stated.
Amelia's eyes watered. "I just wish I could sleep."
He pursed his lips before setting his jaw and pushing himself up and away from the trunk. She frowned at the loss of warmth and glanced up at him curiously.
He held out a hand. "Come on."
She took his hand and allowed him to pull her up before he led her by their joined hands to the canopy where her hammock laid empty.
"Get in," he said quietly, pulling her forward. She sighed tiredly before unwrapping herself from the blanket in order to climb into the hammock. Newt steadied it as she adjusted and shielded herself with the blanket. She settled underneath the scratchy material and looked up at him.
Newt knelt down on the ground with some effort until he was eye level with her. He pulled his knees up into his chest and wrapped an arm around them. He rested his free hand on the side of her hammock and held it out to her, palm up. When all he received was a blank stare from her, he shook his hand expectantly and she cautiously placed her hand in his.
"Just go to sleep," he told her, voice light as to not wake the others. "I'll be right here, I won't leave. Just get some rest, Amelia."
She frowned a bit, touched by the offer. "But what about you? Aren't you tired?"
He gave her a funny smile. "I'm not the one who hasn't gotten any sleep in three days. I'll be fine."
Amelia bit her lip. "I don't even know if I can sleep…"
Newt shrugged, not appearing too concerned. "All you have to do is try. If you don't fall asleep soon we can stay up and talk some more until you're ready to try again. I've got all night."
She felt unsure but she lowered herself until she was resting on her side, facing him. Newt seemed to understand the yearning she had for someone to be near her. It surprised her at first that she felt comfortable enough to let her guard down around him, but then she assumed her mind accepted that he wasn't a threat and that he could be trusted. He was nice to her and she appreciated that.
He squeezed her hand and intertwined their fingers to keep their hands fastened. She focused on the sound of his steady breathing and the rustling of the branches in the breeze. She felt his eyes on her as her conscience slowly gave way to sleep, his tired brown eyes being the last things she remembered seeing before her mind eased and she finally succumbed to darkness.
The following morning she awoke to the sun's steady rise above the maze's eastern wall, painting the sky in golden hues of pink and orange.
She smacked her lips together in contentment, eyes still sore and yearning for a couple more hours of sleep but her body felt more rested than it had in days. She sighed and winced at the stiffness in her right shoulder, turning slightly on her hammock and a head of unkempt blonde hair tickled her nose.
She pulled back and blinked in surprise at the sight before her until the memories from the night before came rushing back.
Newt was fast asleep, head resting precariously on the edge of her hammock. His fingers remained tangled in hers and she had the desperate urge to flex them and wipe the uncomfortable sweat from her palm but she refrained. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted as he snored lightly in his sleep.
She couldn't help but smile.