DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Maze Runner series or any other characters associated with it. However, I do own Grace and any other original characters that might pop up. And similarities to any other works of fanfiction are purely coincidental.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER. IF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, THIS IS YOUR OFFICIAL TRIGGER WARNING!

CHAPTER SIX

"Human beings, you see, fall apart all the time. In many different ways. That is the central theme. There is no need to disguise it."

Patrick Somerville, The Universe in Miniature in Miniature

Grace didn't keep track of how long they had been in the Maze, not exactly. She left it up to others to count down the days, to lament over how long they had been kept in their prison. No, Grace didn't keep track, but she knew it had been about a year. A year since things waking up in the Glade, ignorant of who she was except for her name.

Things had certainly changed since then.

It was obvious how starkly different they all were every time she returned to the Glade with a sweaty brow and aching limbs. Just looking around, seeing all the boys working like a well-oiled machine was a stark contrast to what they were like not so very long ago. There were jobs and rules, everyone was expected to do their part. And they weren't just surviving, they were thriving.

Grace allowed her gaze to sweep over the Glade once more before she started jogging towards the Map Room. The sooner she got her map filled out, the sooner she could take a break. And she needed one too, after running all day. She didn't doubt that Newt would rub the fact that he had the day off in her face, as she tended to do to him whenever she had the day off.

Pushing the door to the Map Room open, Grace stepped inside, stretching her arms high over her head as she walked across the room to gather a pencil and a sheet of paper. She wasn't the first one back, she noticed, though that wasn't so unusual. She had gotten good at timing just how long she could spend in the Maze before coming back.

"Find anything today, boys?" She asked casually as she took a seat beside one of the newer runners, a boy named Linus. He looked at her, smiling politely before shaking his head. "Nah, not today." He was tall, at least a head taller than Grace, but scrawny with tan skin and a head of unruly black hair. But he was fast, and had kept up during his training. It had made Grace almost feel bad about arguing with Minho over making him a Runner at all. Not that Linus knew about that.

"Minho isn't back yet?" She asked, looking around the table with a raised brow seeing no sign of her friend's familiar face. This wasn't unusual either. She and Minho were usually among the last ones back.

"Nope." Linus said, shrugging slightly as he finished his map, before standing to put it away. "Is that surprising?"

"Not even a little." She answered without looking up from her paper. She had been doing this for so long now that drawing her section of the Maze took little concentration. She had memorized the patterns now, could run those familiar paths in her sleep. Still, she always took care with her maps, always made sure that everything added up and was cohesive.

When she finally finished, Grace stood, rolling the paper up as she moved to put it away. Most of the others had cleared out, though some were still painstakingly working on their maps.

"Grace!" The door opening with a shout of her name had her whipping around, brows raising in alarm as she took in the sight of Minho standing there panting. "Min?"

He sucked in a deep breath, looking up at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "It's Newt." He said finally. "He's hurt."


She wasn't exactly sure how Newt had managed to get hurt in the Glade, on his day off, but Grace was less concerned with the how and more concerned with his well being.

She pushed open the front door of the Homestead, immediately heading towards the steps, taking them two at a time as she raced up. Her heart thundered in her chest, worry burning like acid in her throat. If it was something small, Minho wouldn't have rushed to get her, wouldn't have been so panicked. He hadn't had a chance to elaborate before she had taken off, pushing past him in her haste to get to Newt to make sure he was okay.

She didn't bother trying to be quiet as she hurried down the upstairs hallway, swinging the infirmary door open. "Newt." There he was, laying back against the pillows with his eyes closed, the blanket thrown back to reveal one of his legs, heavily wrapped bandaged. The sheet underneath his leg, she noticed, was stained with blood. What had happened to him?

Grace didn't stop to look at the others assembled in the room, she just started across the room, dropping down to her knees by Newt's bed.

"Grace…" She didn't turn when she heard Alby say her name softly from behind her, just reached forward to catch Newt's hand in her own. He didn't stir, even as she gripped his hand tightly, as if she was scared he would disappear.

"Grace." Alby said, his voice stronger this time, more demanding. Grace turned her head slightly, frowning. "What?" She asked, her voice quivering slightly. "What happened?"

Alby sighed, bowing his head. "We need to talk." He said. "Come on."

Hesitating slightly, Grace let go of Newt's hand, watching as it fell limply to dangle over the edge of the bed again, before standing and turning to follow Alby out of the room. Nick, Clint, and Jeff all stood off to one side, exchanging similar worried looks and occasionally glancing over to Newt. As she passed Nick looked up at caught her eye, offering her a sad smile.

As they stepped out into the hallway, Grace pulled the door shut behind them before turning to face Alby. "What happened?" She asked again, crossing her arms over her chest. She could try to act stern, could try to be a hardass, but Alby knew her. He would know how worried she was about Newt.

He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor as he leaned against the wall opposite her. "Newt….he...he tried to kill himself, Grace."

The words hung heavily in the air between them, and for a long time Grace just stared at him, green eyes narrowed and hard as she let those words sink in, suddenly feeling like she might throw up.

"He what?"

It didn't make sense. Why would Newt kill himself? Why would he ever consider doing such a thing? She thought back to the night before, at dinner, when they had sat next to each other like always. He had given her his roll in exchange for her carrots because he knew she hated carrots. He hadn't even asked. He had just reached over to take her plate and scraped the vegetables over before placing his roll on the edge of her plate. It was the same thing he always did, and Grace hadn't thought anything about it. She had just offered him a small smile before shooting a snarky comment across the table where Minho was sitting.

And then she thought about their kiss. Their only kiss. Honestly, she thought about it more than she cared to admit, though she had never once brought it up to him. And he hadn't said anything to her about it either. Things had continued on along their normal path and Grace had been left to wonder about it over and over.

"He climbed up the wall, Grace. He just...climbed up and I had to go and drag him back here so Clint and Jeff could take a look at his leg. He was….pretty bad Grace."

"But...why would he-"

"I don't know." Alby said quickly, shaking his head. "He's been out of it since I got him back here. I haven't been able to ask. I don't even know that I should ask him."

She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs made her stiffen, turning to look just as Minho appeared. "How is he?" He asked, approaching them.

"Asleep." Alby said quickly. "He'll be fine."

Minho sighed, leaning a shoulder against the wall next to Grace, glancing at her quickly before looking back, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Grace?" He asked, startling her. "What's going on?"

"What do you-"

"I know you, Grace." He interrupted her, before she could even get her question out. "Probably better than anybody else in the Glade. I only have to look at your face to know that something is up. If Newt was just okay and in there taking a shucking nap, you wouldn't look like that. So I'm gonna ask again, what's going on?"

His gaze was hard and unrelenting on her, and Grace could feel Alby's eyes on her as well. Did he want her to keep it a secret? If so, why would he even tell her? And anyway, how could Alby expect Grace to lie to her best friend.

Grace felt the words bubbling up in her mouth before she could even stop them, and without even meaning to she blurted out "Newt tried to kill himself."

Minho looked properly shocked at her words, eyebrows raising in surprise as he looked at her. "He what?"

"That's what uh….Alby said." Grace said quickly. Part of her was still refusing to believe it, wanting to believe instead that it was some sort of accident and that Newt had not willingly tried to end his own life.

"Why?"

That's what Grace wanted to know. She felt the question welling up inside her. Why would Newt do it? Was life in the Glade really so bad? Yes, they were trapped here, but Grace was confident that they would find the answer one day, that they would be able to find their way out of the Maze. The Maze was meant to be solved.

"We don't know why." Alby said gruffly. "I haven't exactly asked. And when he wakes up, we need to act like everything's normal."

"Everything isn't normal, Alby." Grace sighed, shaking her head. "It just isn't."

"Well then pretend, Grace." he snapped. "You'll just have to pretend."


That, as it turned out, was easier said than done.

Sure, with the other Gladers Grace could just force a smile and tell them that Newt had had an accident. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue but she forced it out anyway before going about her business. Dinner was, if anything, an awkward affair, everyone at Grace's table eating silently, the heavy truth hanging over them like smoke.

It wasn't until afterward, when Grace agreed to watch over Newt while Clint and Jeff went to get their own dinner that, that she felt herself falling apart. Sitting there, looking at his still form, it felt suddenly as if the ground beneath her was giving way, crumbling out from underneath her very feet.

Newt shifted in bed and Grace froze, holding her breath and watching as he moved, letting out a groan and then a hiss of pain as he sat up slightly, looking down to see his heavily bandaged leg. Her furrowed his brow, frowning heavily before flopping back against the pillow with a sigh.

And then he must have noticed her, sitting there watching him, face expressionless, green eyes hollow. He sat up again with a start, surprise lighting up his face.

"Grace." Her name, so familiar from his mouth, felt foreign now. This was not the boy that she had grown so close with over their time in the Glade. He was someone different. She wanted her Newt back, the sensitive, kind boy who always looked out for others.

"Alby told me what happened." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Grace mentally kicked herself. She wasn't supposed to say anything. She was supposed to act like everything was fine and dandy. And maybe, if anyone else had been here she would have. But they weren't and she couldn't.

Newt eyes widened slightly as he stared at her, his face going pale. "He did?"

"Yeah." She stood abruptly, making Newt jump in surprise as she knocked her chair back, turning to pace away, to the other side of the room. But she couldn't look at him right now. All of the emotions were bubbling up inside of her, boiling over. She was upset, God she was so upset. Why would Newt ever feel the need to kill himself? But more than that she was angry, livid even. He was just going to off himself? Had he known that he was going to do it? Had he planned it? And if so, for how long? Had he been so willing to just leave everyone, all of his friends, behind?

"Where was my shucking goodbye, Newt?" She asked finally, her voice quiet but still plainly audible in the silent room. "You decide to jump off the damn wall, to hell with the rest of us, huh?"

"Grace I-"

"No!" She cut him off, her voice too loud in the silence as she stomped her foot, still refusing to face him. "I don't want to hear any explanations. Or apologies. I wasn't even worth a goodbye Newt. And I don't want to hear whatever reasoning you came up with that was good enough for what you did!"

The sound of footsteps racing up the stairs startled her, making her realize with a start that there were people just downstairs, able to hear her just fine. She sucked in a breath before starting towards the door, still determinedly not looking at him.

"Grace," Newt called from behind her, his voice sounding absolutely pitiful. "I'm sorry."

"Stop Newt." She said, pausing, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She couldn't be here right now, not in the same room as him. "Just stop."

She threw the door open, revealing a surprised Alby. He looked past her, at Newt sitting on the bed, before looking down at Grace, his face quickly contorting into one of anger. "Grace-" he started, but she pushed past him, not sparing him a second glance as she started down the hall towards the stairs. "Shut up Alby."


She didn't like being in the woods, not anymore. Not since what happened with Tesla. She shivered, thinking back to that day. It was strange to think that it had been so long ago. Some nights she still woke up from nightmares about drowning, with water forcing its way into her mouth and lungs. Between her nightmares of water and fire, it seemed that Grace didn't stand a chance for a good night sleep.

That wasn't entirely true of course. She didn't always have nightmares, after all, and most night she slept just fine. But in the face of something bad, it was easy to forget about the good things. In any case, on the occasions that Grace did have a dream that she remembered (or sort of remembered) upon waking, it was usually a nightmare, and usually about one or the other.

Grace sighed, leaning her head back against the trunk of the tree, staring out into the darkness. She didn't like being in the woods, but she figured this was the last place anyone would come looking for her. She didn't particularly want to get scolded, not by Alby or anyone else, though she had calmed down enough now to realize that she probably deserved it.

She had been acting like a real shank, she knew that. Newt didn't need to be yelled at, he needed support. And she should have been the first one there to give it to him. Instead she had gotten angry, had yelled at him. Shame burned white hot beneath her skin. She wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to talk to her again.

Maybe, she thought, she could just stay in the Dead Heads forever. This could be where she lived now, like some sort of wild girl, eating twigs and tree bark to stay alive and hiding if anybody came looking for her. Grace couldn't help but snort slightly at the ridiculous thought. As if she would ever actually attempt something like that. And anyway, Minho would march his way into the woods and drag her ass out if she stayed hidden for too long, she knew that for a fact.

Grace stifled a yawn, shifting to sit more comfortably against the tree. Just a little while longer, she decided. She'd give everyone the chance to go to sleep so she could slip up to her room unnoticed. And in the morning she would get up and be ready to leave before anyone could stop her. And when she got back...when she got back she would go and tell Newt how sorry she was and how much of an ass she had been. Yes, that's what she would do.

She yawned and closed her eyes and the world fell away.


This time, it is not a nightmare.

She is younger, in the dream, maybe thirteen or so and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, her pajamas. Her hair is in two long braids, bouncing with each step she takes. She's sneaking, trying to be subtle, trying to keep from being caught.

Of course, deep down she knows that they know where she is. They always know.

She turns sharply down a hallway before immediately turning again, opening the door to a janitorial closet, a different one that they usually meet the others in. It is sheathed in shadows as she steps inside, but Grace can make out a familiar lanky figure who stands to greet her when she enters.

She closes the door behind her silently and steps further in, her heart picking up speed in her chest. The others don't know, they'd make fun of them if they knew.

"You're late," his familiar accented voice says, making her scoff.

"I'm not." She replies. "You're just early." That's a lie, she is late but she wanted to be sure nobody had followed her. Not that anyone was likely to. She had her own room, didn't have to worry about anybody hearing her get up to leave. In fact, Newt should have been the one who was late. He had all the others to worry about.

Her eyes are adjusting to the dark, enough that she can see the soft smile stretched across his face as he shifts closer. Her heart flops and she smiles back.

"I missed you." He says suddenly. Grace laughs. "You saw me at dinner Newt. That was only a few hours ago."

"You're a girl. I thought you were supposed to like it when I say stuff like that." She can't tell exactly but it looks like he's pouting. She laughs again. "If you're trying to butter me up, Newt, giving me your desert would always help. Not that you need much help. I already kinda like you."

"Only kinda?" He steps forward and she steps back, slipping around him with a sly grin.

"Only sorta."

He turns to face her, catching her by surprise as he reaches out to poke her in her side, eliciting a sharp squeak from her as she squirms away, slapping her palm over her mouth as she looks up at him wide-eyed making him laugh. "Newt," she scolds. "We're supposed to be hiding. Don't make me do that."

"You squeaked," he defended. "It was cute."

She scowls and childishly sticks her tongue out at him. "It wasn't."

"Yes it was. You're always cute Grace." He says honestly. She is glad it's dark so that he can't see her the blush that she can feel spread across her cheeks. "Stoooop." She insists, her voice a whine as she ducks her head.

Newt chuckles, stepping close as he reached down, using a finger to push her chin up. "Nah, Gracie. I like embarrassing you."

He's standing close, she realizes, really close and he isn't moving away. Grace can't breath ash she looks up at him, heart catching in her throat as his eye meets hers. She licks her lips and he notices, his gaze dropping to her mouth. And then he is leaning forward and Grace knows what is about to happen, she knows and she has thought about this moment more than she would care to admit. She raises onto the tips of her toes, wanting to meet his mouth with hers. What will it be like, she can't help but wonder. As nice as she had hoped?

She sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as they-

Her eyes fluttered open, only to be met with the shadowy shapes of brush all around her. She felt very warm, heart still hammering in her chest. That had been one hell of a dream, though if she was being honest it felt familiar, almost as if it were something lost that had been returned to her?

A memory? If so, then Grace had no doubt that it was an important one. That had definitely been Newt in her dream, and they were younger, hardly more than children. And they had been...Grace had to tell Newt.

She stood suddenly, ignoring the ache in her back from falling asleep against a tree before taking off, rushing through the trees and brush towards the homestead. It was still dark, the Gladers all having gone to bed. Probably she was the only one awake now, which was all the better for her. She didn't really want anybody else around to witness this. But it was so important, and Newt had to know right away.

She got to the homestead, pushing the front door open slowly. She knew she couldn't exactly rush inside, with its creaky floorboards. Someone could hear her, and if it was Alby then Grace was half convinced that he would try to stop her from even seeing Newt after the ordeal today.

She moved carefully, quietly, across the main room and up the stairs. It was dark in the homestead, and peaceful, everyone having retired to their beds. Would Newt be asleep, she wondered. Would she have to wake him up? Would he even want to talk to her? God, Grace hoped so, hoped that he would at least give her the chance to apologize.

She paused outside the door to the infirmary, hesitating for a moment, before pushing the door open.

Newt was stretched out on the bed, his leg elevated on a couple of pillows. It was too dark to make out much else which might have been for the best. Grace wasn't sure that she wanted to see Newt's face when she apologized and then told him about her dream.

"Newt," She said softly as she sat down on the edge of his bed, careful not to jostle his leg. "Newt." She repeated, firmer this time as she reached out to nudge him.

"Grace?" He groaned softly, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. Sorry to wake you. I needed to talk to you."

He groaned again, before shifting to sit up slightly against his pillows. "What's goin' on?" He asked sleepily.

Oh God. It had been so easy to tell herself logically that she needed to apologize, but now Grace was sitting there with Newt and the time was now and she couldn't figure out what to say. Maybe she should have waited a moment to figure that out before she came rushing in here.

"I'm sorry," she blurted finally, before groaning, dropping her head into her hands. That certainly was not the graceful apology that she had wanted to give. "For earlier." Grace clarified. "I was...out of line. You needed someone to support you, not yell at you. You needed a friend, and I couldn't even be that. So...I'm sorry. I was being selfish and stupid, thinking about how….I felt. I didn't even stop to think about how you feel." Once the words really started to flow, it was like she couldn't get them to stop, her throat burning with emotion. "I didn't even tell you that the most important thing to me was that you're still here, that I didn't lose you. And I should have said that, Newt. I'm so glad that you're still here." She went quiet, the silence settling heavily between them as she waited for him to say something. Had he fallen back asleep?

"Grace...it's okay." Newt said quietly.

"But it's not," she insisted, reaching out, trailing her hand across the bed searching for his. She finally found it, linking her fingers with his. "And I came here to tell you something else, Newt. I had a dream. I...think it was a memory. Of me. Of us. From before we were sent here. We were something Newt. I...that's not really important. What is important is that I care about you Newt. That I've always cared about you. And whatever you're going through...whatever caused you to do what you did...I'm here to help you deal with that too."


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Let me first start by saying that I absolutely do not condone Grace's reaction to what Newt did. It was insensitive and her initial reaction in no way reflects how I think the issue should be treated.

That being said, Grace did see the fault in her actions once she pulled her head out of her ass. So sorry if anyone was upset she was acting like a jerk.

I'm sorry this chapter took so long, and sorry for yet another time skip. There will be a few more still, but at the halfway point is when all the massive time skips will stop. I do intend to start a oneshot series for this story to help fill in a lot of the blanks and help to build up on other relationships!