Faith's P.O.V

Loud beeping that wouldn't stop. That's all I heard as I was dragged from a dreamless sleep. And that just added to the rhythmic pounding in my head. As the beeping continued, the throbbing increased. "Ugh!" I turned in my bed, slamming a pillow over my head. There was a soft laugh behind me, and I moved the pillow to see a smirking Minho literally right next to me. I was about to shriek, but then all of last night hit me. The light in the room wasn't helping my head, so with another grunt I went back into hiding under my pillow.

"Good morning to you too, princess." Minho laughed with mock hurt dripping from his voice.

"I hate the bloody sun." was all he received in response.

"You've been hanging around Newt way too much." Another laugh and more throbbing. He needed to stop talking; it felt like a thousand balls were bouncing around in my head.

I flung the pillow off of my head and moved my finger to his lips, "Minho, please, for the sake of my head, shut up." He looked shocked at my finger, but then just smiled.

"What was that? I couldn't hear ya, Greenie?" He shouted with another chuckle.

"UGH! You're the worst!" Ignoring the slamming in my head, I proceeded to beat him with my pillow. He grabbed another one, and soon, we were having a full-blown pillow fight. I laughed as we hit each other with the pillows and I managed to get him a few times in the face, leaving him shocked before he moved to hit me again. We were dancing around the room, landing a few hits here and there, all the while laughing at how stupid we both looked. Minho gave up trying to hit me, as I had managed to escape a few hits, and he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I was yelling at him about unfair advantages when Newt walked in,

"Oh my-! Seriously? Do you two ever bloody stop?!" Minho was facing the other way and quickly turned around effectively slamming my head into the bed frame in the process.

"Ow! Son of a shuck! Watch it, Minho!" That really didn't help the throbbing. He quickly set me down, and readjusted my clothes, grazing my waist while doing so. His warm skin sent shivers through my body, and he was staring down at me with a smug look, like he knew the effect he had on me. I turned back to Newt, so he couldn't see my blush, but I'm sure he did anyways.

Newt sent me another one of those looks, and I made a mental note to slap him later. "I'll see you shanks at breakfast. Oh, and Greenie, don't be late for the Medjacks." I gave a sarcastic salute and Newt rolled his eyes as he walked out of the Homestead.

I turned back to make a comment to Minho about abusing my head, but he had taken off his shirt, effectively making my mind go blank. He was facing the window, so I had a perfect view of his back, which was so toned and muscular. And then he turned around, Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus. I remembered seeing his abs before, but they were still very appealing. His olive skin was rippled with muscles across his arms and chest, perfectly toned and sculpted everywhere. Man, running really did a number for him. I looked up to find him staring at me, but I could tell he was looking over my body, not just at my face. I was slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, but only because I was self-conscience about my looks. I mean I never really did put much effort into my looks, but that was just purely for a lack of time. I shifted my footing, and his eyes snapped back up to mine. Hmm, looks like I wasn't the only one staring. I walked past him, and grabbed a blue-gray t-shirt, feeling his gaze on me the whole time. I faced away from him and quickly pulled the hoodie off, I slipped the shirt on and then turned back to him.

He hadn't moved and didn't say anything, so I just grabbed his hand with a sigh and pulled him into his room. He finally worked with me and took a t-shirt from his dresser and threw it on. Ugh, another tight t-shirt that accentuated his muscles. It's just unfair, although, I guess my shirt was form-fitting too, so, now we're even. Together, we walked towards Frypan's hut and sat down at a table filled with Hutton, Jack, Newt, Roy, Jeff, and Gally. The boys congratulated me on my new jobs and spent breakfast making fun of me for what I did last night.

"I swear, no Greenie has ever had that much their first time." Gally laughed, pointing his fork at me.

"Shebean downed at least 15 in matter of half an hour." Hutton and Jack chuckled. Minho looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I just slammed my head down on my arms.

"I'm surprised you're even bloody walking!" Newt added.

"Yeah, well Newtie, I'd much rather eat than walk," I said, gagging slightly at the aroma of food surrounding me. Newt chortled and slapped me on the back. After sitting with the boys for a while, I got up and headed over to the Medjack Hut. Minho came in right after me, to have Clint and Jeff check his hands. They rewrapped them, and he went running into the Maze after giving me a mock salute.

"Did you wrap his hands, Greenie?" Clint asked me, sounding slightly surprised. I nodded, and he continued, "Well done. Kept him from getting a shucking infection." We spent the rest of the day cleaning up the Slicers and some Cooks, and Jeff showed me different combinations of herbs and how to treat certain situations.

*TIME SKIP: ONE WEEK*

I've spent one week with the Medjacks cleaning up enough blood to last a life time. Alby had mentioned something about the boys getting hurt on purpose because I would patch them up, and I didn't doubt that. After everyone found out I was the one cleaning up the cuts and scratches, every single one came in complaining about a paper cut or a splinter or insisting they broke their ankle. It got on my nerves, but Jeff and Clint started taking them, and eventually, they stopped coming. I was rearranging the bandages and taking stock of our supplies when a loud blaring noise went off around the Glade. I immediately covered my ears and turned to ask Jeff what was going on; he saw my face and shouted over the noise,

"New Greenie! Looks like you're no longer the resident Greenbean!" That's where I had heard this obnoxious sound before; it had gone off when I was brought here, the start of my life with no memories. I hated the alarm. I hated it so much. Jeff lead me outside to the Box and within a few minutes the bell shut off. I found Newt in the crowd and moved next to him.

"Ya excited? I guess I have to actually start calling you by your real name, huh?" Newt laughed at my annoyed expression. "Maybe it'll be a girl! You can finally have someone to gossip with!" I punched his shoulder playfully and looked over to where Gally was opening the lid.

We all leaned closer to peer over the side to see-a boy. The boys around me must've been hoping for a girl as well because there was a chorus of groans as we saw him. He had fiery red hair and his face was covered with freckles. He looked to be about fifteen; and he looked really terrified of Gally. They finally got him out of the Box and I truly felt for him. I remembered how hard it was to come to terms with it all and be expected to go along with it. This place sucked, but life here wasn't too bad, considering all the people that made it much more enjoyable and worth it. Newt left to introduce himself and give him the Tour.

I walked back to the Hut and continued organizing our supplies. I worked for a few more hours, and then, I heard yelling coming from the Glade. I moved to see what was going on but before I had seen anything, a bunch of boys burst through the door supporting a heavily bleeding Minho. His shirt was soaked all the way through with his blood. He was hanging in between Newt and Jackson, trying and failing to support himself. The group pushed past me and laid him down on a cot. I snapped out of it and moved to grab supplies. I ran over to Minho was groaning and trying to get up, claiming 'I'm fine, shuckfaces, it's just a bit of blood.' I shoved him back down and told him not to move. He stared at me but nodded and stopped fighting the boys. With only a bit of hesitation, I tore open his shirt to reveal his bloody chest.

There was a clean cut carrying from his collarbone down to the end of his ribs. It wasn't very deep, but hell it was bleeding a lot. I cleaned the cut quickly with a bit of alcohol, earning a hiss from Minho, which made me feel terrible, but it was for his own sake. I looked over at Clint, who nodded, giving me a needle with a sort of string in it. I was shaking, but I had to stop myself before I pierced Minho's skin. I looked at the boy on the bed, who was staring at me and gripping the bed with white knuckles. He was covered in sweat and dirt and looked very intimidated by the whole situation.

"Minho, this is gonna hurt like shuck." I whispered with a look in my eyes that hopefully told him I didn't want to hurt him. He didn't say anything; he just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. I looked back at his chest, where most of the bleeding had stopped. I moved with the needle in hand closer to the cut when Newt grabbed my wrist.

"You don't have any pain medication or anything? How is he supposed to get through this?" His face was full of concern, but I didn't know what else to do. I really didn't want to hurt Minho, but we had no medication for stuff like this.

"Newt, its fine. Faith, just do it." Minho grunted from his spot on the bed. He had his eyes squinted shut and his whole body was tense. Newt let go of my wrist and with a stuttering breath I put the needle through Minho's skin. I tried to keep the procedure as fast as I could, as I could tell Minho was in a lot of pain, but I refused to be the reason his cut would be infected. I stitched quickly and soon the whole gash was closed. Minho's knuckles had turned white from gripping the bed so hard, and his breathing had been rapid the whole time. I put the needle down and put my hand on his, trying to convey my comfort. His hazel eyes shot open and found mine. His breathing slowed, and he released his death grip on the bed. Clint shoved me out of the way, so he could wrap his chest, yet I didn't want to leave Minho's side just yet. I got a damp cloth and began cleaning the few scrapes and dirt off of his head. I gently wiped away all the sweat and grime, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

I finished cleaning his cuts, and when I looked back down expecting to find his hazel eyes staring back; he had fallen asleep, breathing deeply but looking peaceful. I gave his hand a quick squeeze and slipped out the door after Newt. I walked out into the Glade, the warm air and slight breeze greeting my skin, and finding him leaning against a tree in the Deadheads with his eyes closed facing the heavens. He looked like he was in a lot of pain; not physically, but deep in emotional turmoil. I grabbed his arm and gently pulled him to the ground. He sighed and leaned his head against my shoulder. I looked over to see his eyes brimming with tears, but he didn't allow them to overflow.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this. Watch my friends almost die and then die." His voice broke my heart, I had only known him for a few weeks, but I knew how much weighed down on him. Practically, the whole Glade and life of his friends were left to Newt's hands. I couldn't imagine living a life like that.

"Newt, I know we're close to finding something. We have to be." My voice broke and my confidence had too, a little. Minho had told me they had been here for at least a year now. So many boys had died, and we weren't much closer to finding anything. The Maze changed and shifted, but no new information presented itself. But then, a burst of confidence filled my deflated heart. Minho and the other Keepers think I can get them out, I have to. I must be here, so I can help, and god damn help I will. "Newt, I promise I will get you out of here. I don't break promises or go back on my word. But, you have to be strong, these boys," I gestured to the boys milling around the Glade, "they need you. They look up to you and will follow you no matter what. You can't give up, I won't let you." He shifted and turned to look at me. In his eyes, I saw a lot of hopelessness and despair, but I also saw a flicker of hope. I was gonna turn that flicker into a fire. He wrapped his arms around me and sobbed quietly on my shoulder. I hugged him back, promising myself that Newt would survive this or it's on me. He eventually let me go and fell back against the tree with a sigh. A few minutes later, my voice sounded,

"What exactly happened to Minho?" my voice broke the silence.

Newt's P.O.V

"Honestly, Alby, it's not a big deal! I bet you they'll be together in two weeks!" I chuckled at his disheveled expression.

"Newt, you have no idea man, I bet this is gonna take at least 4 weeks if not more. She-bean just got here, ain't no way they shacking up in two weeks!" he shakes his head at me, a smile playing at his lips.

"Alby, mate, you seriously misunderstand the power of love; two weeks, and you bring me breakfast for a month." I reach out to shake his hand.

"Four weeks, and you make breakfast for me for a month." He counters with a full on smirk, a rare sight for the leader of the Glade.

We shake hands and I laugh walking away to talk to Nick who's standing at the Maze Doors. The Keeper of the Baggers gives me a small smile, and we chat for awhile about nonsense, really. He thinks the two will be together in four weeks as well. Nick's a nice guy, really quiet and likes to be alone, but nice nonetheless. While he's telling me about his workers, I see a figure running down the hall of the Maze, not really limping but moving as if they're hurt. I shake my head at the thought as I see it's Minho running through. I wave goodbye to Nick and start to walk over to Minho. He collapses at the entrance, as he does every day, panting heavily for a few moments. As I get closer, I move to clap him on the back and make a comment about his dramatic entrances, when he falls forward without moving to stop himself from plummeting face first into the ground. His body lays still on the ground, and I limp over to him as fast as possible.

"Minho! Are you okay?" I ask the boy on the ground, with no response. I grab his shoulder and flip him so he's on his back. I gasp when I see the front of his shirt is slowly soaking with blood. He barely opens his eyes and focuses on me,

"Ah, Newt, its nothing. Just a scratch." He coughs and splutters as he tries to get back up.

"You bloody slinthead, sit yourself and slim it. That's not just a scratch!" I yell at the Keeper of the Runners, shoving him back to the ground. "Alby! Nick! Get the Medjacks! Minho's hurt!" Minho groans at my outburst and attempts to slap my hand but misses miserably resulting in a cough and more blood spurting from the wound. My eyes widen, realizing again just how much blood is leaving his body.

Alby and Nick are the first to arrive, with the Medjacks close behind. A group of random Gladers follow after, wanting to see all the commotion. By the time, Clint and Jeff assess the situation properly, the whole front of Minho's shirt is soaked. We get him propped up between one of the Baggers, Jackson and myself, and work our way over to the Medjack Hut as fast as we can. This bloody limp is such a pain in the shuck ass. Minho seems to have regained somewhat of his full conscientiousness because he's groaning and weakly fighting against our grip.

"Minho, slim yourself. We need to get you patched up." Alby states gruffly from the back of the group. The boy in statement rolls his eyes but stops fighting.

"Wanna explain how this happened?" My voice is slightly shaky, and I try to cover my concern with anger. Minho looks at me sideways for a moment before turning his hazy attention back to the approaching Hut,

"I was running just like normal when it popped out of nowhere. Barely had time to react before it graced me with this gash," he stated gesturing to his bleeding chest. "Scared the shucking daylights outta me."

"A Griever?" a voice questioned from the group of Gladers around us.

"No, shuckface! The damn walls attacked me, yes a Griever!" Minho shouts back sounding as irritable as ever. I laugh and continue towards the Hut.

We finally reach the building, and Nick slams into the door effectively opening it. Revealing none other than the precious Greenie, which I guess she wasn't anymore cause of the Box coming up, Faith. I give Alby a quick glance with a smug look plastered to my face. She stands there too long looking shocked with her mouth agape, making her look rather like a fish. Alby pushes past her and designates a bed for Minho. The Runner is no longer really conscious or unconscious but oddly in the middle. We move to set him down and as soon as we do, he starts fighting again. Good lord! Minho can't let anyone help him for one damn minute. It's sure to be the death of him. Faith seems to have snapped out of it though, pushing him down and starting to work on his wound. I look at Alby again, they're definitely shacking up by the end of the week. He rolls his eyes with another smirk and looks back at Minho.