Disclaimer:

I don't own the Maze Runner Series

Thomas' POV

On the tables there are bodies. Dead bodies, covered with white sheets. Some of them are in one piece, others are missing a finger or two. Some are bruised, burnt and wounded. All of them have blue and green veins running across their bodies, some more than others. Then there's the ones you can't recognize anymore, these are the ones that worry me most. Minho told me that Newt isn't one of them, but I can't help but think it could be. I walk around the room at a fast pace, roughly pulling sheet after sheet off of the corpses, looking for him, hoping he's not here. My friends are staring at me but I don't care anymore.
"Thomas, don't you think this is doing more harm than good?" Minho asks me, his voice is gentle as though he is speaking to a frightened child.
I look up from what is almost the last table and shake my head. "I just have to make sure." I mumble, tugging at the corner of the white fabric in my hand. The face of a young girl greets me, dull, milky eyes still open. Her face has scratches on it, from the sockets of her dead eyes down to the greenish skin on her cheeks and neck.
"We have to make sure to get to him as fast as we can, and this- This isn't helping, is it?"
I glance around the room and slowly realize what I've been doing. All those people now lay bare and exposed on the tables, their empty eyes staring at the ceiling. Guilt, and sadness fills my heart as I let go of the sheet. The girl seems to stare at me with her accusing glare when I step away from the table and walk to Fry and Minho, who are waiting for me at the door.
The color of her hair was almost the same as Newt's.

We search the building at a slow pace, avoiding the people who work here as we sneak around quietly. It feels like we've been looking for hours and I can't stop thinking about the corpses. I can't stop imagining Newt there. He could be dead, perhaps he was laying on top of one of those last few tables. It's late at night still, and luckily there aren't many employees on night shift. We did have to hide from a couple of guards before, they're still looking for us, it seems. The hallway we are walking through leads us to a different section of the building. The walls here are white instead of grey. This must be what Fry calls the research department.
"This is where they took us, me and Teresa. She went up those stairs and had a talk with some sly dude and I had to go into one of those rooms." He whispers, pointing to a grey door in front of us. "I saw some guys in white coats then, they went that way."
Walking on our tip toes, afraid to make any sound, we head into the direction Fry told us to go. There are several heavily locked doors with little name tags on it, just like in the hospital. It's still odd to me how I remember things like that, I must've visited a hospital once before the Maze Trials. Quickly I glance across the tags. -A. J. Smiles- -B. Murphy- -K. KarDashner- -S. Sanders- . Some rooms have only one name on it, others have more. And we shuffle across, reading each name until we round a corner to the left and stumble upon a dead end. The very last door in this last bit of the hall catches my attention.
-I. Newton-
I walk over and press my ear against his door, but I hear nothing. It is unsettling, I suppose I had hoped for a noise, a confirmation he is in there. We spend some moments studying the locks on the door, there is a little red light indicating we can't get in. You need some sort of card to open it, and since we don't have it we decide to wait for someone who has. On the opposite wall of the door is a closet, a fairly big one, containing cleaning supplies and brooms. We manage to fit in with the three of us, our bodies pressing against each other very close. I can feel my friends sticky skin against my own, sweaty and dirty. I keep the door open just a bit, so I can see Newt's door and whoever comes close to it.

The man has bright blue eyes and jet black hair. He's the one who spoke to us before they took Newt away. I feel angry and the urge to go over and punch that filthy smirk off of his face is overwhelming at least. Walking besides him are two other men, one bulky with thatch, blonde hair and the other tall and slender. The are hastily walking to our friends door and the Sly guy- as Frypan decided to call him - pulls out a plastic card to unlock the door. A loud beep is heard, and the light turns green.
"Gentlemen, be careful. You will have your keys back once those kids are found and dealt with, but for now I will personally make sure this door is locked tight when you are done." Sly guy tells his employees. "It's just to be safe. I'll be back to escort you out in an hour or so."
The lanky man nods furiously. "Safety first, sir." He says.
His voice reminds me of somebody but I can't grasp who. He seems familiar at least, I might have seen him in one of those memory-filled dreams before. When the door opens Sly guy turns back around and leaves the two men alone. We wait until his footsteps are out of hearing distance and Bulky and Lanky enter Newt's room. Now we have to think of a plan.

Minho's POV.

With quiet steps we get out of the closet and make our way to the door. We are with three, and they are with two. It's simple math. Thomas may not agree with my plan, but Frypan seems more than ready for a little fistfight. I myself am tired of waiting, and beyond angry too. I need to see Newt. Now. I put my hand on the handle and without giving it a second thought I yank the door open and charge straight into the room. Greenie and Fry are besides me when I jump on top of the strong blonde man. Fry can deal with the skinny dude, because I'm going for the big prize.
Whilst the man is off balance I tangle my hands in his collar and slam him against the nearest wall. His reaction is a bit delayed and before he can push me off of him I plant my fist into his jaw. His head snaps back in a millisecond and with a growl of yellow teeth he reaches out for my throat. I keep up the pace and strike again, hitting him in the same spot on his face harshly. His sweaty hands brush across my neck but he can't quite reach- he can't try again because I have him standing doubled over after my knee collides with his abdomen. Clawing fingers grab hold of my shirt, he doesn't let go as I clutch him around his head and slam him into the wall again and again. He punches me in the gut twice- and tries to drag me down to the floor. I stumble, but regain my balance just in time to stay upright. Curling my fingers I scratch across his face, I can feel his skin peeling and pieces of it get caught underneath my longish nails. He calls out, swearing at me furiously and spraying droplets of spit around as he does so. The loud clattering of breaking glass sounds on my left, followed by a loud thud. Before I can look back Thomas is at my side, helping me pin the bulky man down. It takes some time before we have him under control, but when we are on top, a few more punches into his face is enough to knock him out.
I stay on top of the man for a couple of seconds, taking deep breaths to calm myself down a notch. I reach up to my brow, and it feels wet and sticky. I must have gotten a hit to the face without noticing. I wipe the blood off my hand on my pants and get up, look around. The lanky man is laying still on the ground, shattered glass all around him and on the table he apparently was thrown against. There's blood in his mouth where his braces tore through the skin in his mouth. Besides our heavy breathing a beeping noise fills the room. I turn around and see him there.
He's tied down onto a silver table with strong leather straps. The clothes he's wearing are the same as when he was taken from us but they seem to be a bit more loose around his thin frame. He is moving around weakly, struggling to get away from something I can't see. Cautiously I make my way to him, the glass pieces scrape across the floor like nails on chalkboard when I step on them. It feels like it's a harbinger of something bad- it makes me uncomfortable.
"Newt?" His eyes dart around the ceiling. "Newt, it's us."
I reach out slowly and grab one of the straps around his torso. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"
He turns his face to me a little and looks at me, glancing back to the ceiling every few seconds. There's a frightened look in his eyes and he sounds more desperate than I have ever heard him when he speaks.
"There are things in my mind, Min- But they aren't real, right?" His breathing comes out in little gasps. "Please tell me they aren't real."
I start tugging at the straps to loosen them up. "It's the Flare talking, Newt. They are just dreams. Fever dreams, nothing to be afraid of." I say. "You'll be okay."
Newt's expression goes blank when he hears the lack of confidence in my voice.
"I hate it when you lie to me."

A/N:

Hello me hearties,

To be honest with you I have to admit that I was having some trouble to figure out where I wanted this story to go.
I have a couple of plot ideas but I need to tie some ends together first and I hope it all makes sense still.
If you have any ideas of your own, or if you'd like to review or PM me, I'm excited to hear from you.
Have a beautiful day and I will see you in the next chapter!

Love,

DustyBooks