A/N: Hello, everyone, Gladers, Immunes, Cranks, WICKED agents, members of the Right Arm and Grievers (hope I didn't forget anyone) ;) After so many months of absence, here we are agai, I really hope you will like the new chapter. Just a few notes before we get started:

1) Because of the confusion of the Gladers' fight against the Grievers, I let Clint survive although we didn't see him in the second movie...and I think I'm gonna keep him alive because a med-jack is always useful.

2) Due to the big differences of the second movie from the second book of The Maze Runner Trilogy, I'm planning to keep this story movie-verse from now on and the same will go to the "Death Cure". However, after I finish "My life-line", I'm planning to write something like an AU to this story, picking up from where we left our heroes in the first movie and continuing book-verse from that point.

sailorangelmoon1- Thank you very much, I'm really glad you like the story :D

FireOfInspiration- Well, it wasn't really soon, I'm really sorry for that. But I haven't forsaken you, I hope you will like the update :)

Annie- Thank you very much for your review, I'm glad you like Eve :)

Disclaimer: The Maze Runner series don't belong to me in any way

The sun was about to set, its last beams bathing the helicopter and the small crowd in a warm light that was almost strange given what had occurred a few hours ago. A heavy silence had fallen over the Gladers as they flew over the endless desert, each teenager lost in restless thoughts they didn't want to share. The air was filled with the sadness, the relief and the exhaustion every one of them was feeling, some sighs here and there, a small whimper from someone who couldn't hold their tears back, the sound of another moving a little in an attempt to get more confortable. Frypan, Clint and a younger boy whose name Eve didn't know had fallen asleep, trying to find some comfort in their dreams and gain strength for whatever awaited them in their destination; Eve, on the other hand, had dozed off for the past hour and had just woken up after a restless dream including WICKED, Chuck and Grievers chasing them. Her head was still resting on Newt's shoulder as the blond didn't seem to mind; he had spent their journey thinking so far, about the previous years, about the struggle to freedom; he was also looking at the others from time to time: at Minho, who was somehow in a trance, silent and with a Are-we-seriously-free-now smile on his face, at Thomas, who had was staring in front of him with a guilty expression, unable to forgive himself for all the things he had done for WICKED and for Alby and Chuck's deaths, and at Eve, whose eyes had opened abruptly while she was taking deep breaths to calm down.

"Bad dream?" he wanted to know, his voice not louder than a gentle whisper, as he didn't want to disturb the others; she had looked quite troubled during her light sleep, in contrast to this morning, moments before waking up, when she was peaceful and innocent, as if she had felt relaxed for the first time since arriving in the Glade.

"It's okay," she replied equally quietly, slightly rubbing her eyes to chase the dizziness and hints of sleep away. It had absolutely no sense to complain or talk about something she had dreamt about; something that had already happened and couldn't be changed, no matter how much she wished to. With a sigh she raised her head and looked outside, to the desert they were crossing, with the destroyed buildings littering it here and there. "I'm awake now, right? Doesn't matter anymore."

Newt stared at her concerned; at the way she avoided his gaze, at how she refused to talk about what had haunted her dreams, at the way she shut herself out by putting distance between them, even this small one. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had liked how they were a lot: after all that turmoil, having someone he trusted and considered a friend so close to him was the best medicine he could wish for; her head on his shoulder and the audible sound of her breathing had brought him a comfort he couldn't describe; the assurance that both of them had made it out alive and would be next to each other for whatever would come next.

Because, no matter how hopeful Newt wanted to be, no matter how much he wanted to believe that they would go to a safe place, there was still that small part of him that was cautious about the future: the fear he had expressed to Eve the night of her arrival, that more struggles awaited them out of the maze, was there, lurking beneath the surface, combined with what that blond woman, Ava Paige, had said about the fact that their trials had just begun. He could only be prepared for their destination and hope that the mysterious soldiers were people who would help them escape from WICKED's clutches.

A shuffling coming from his left side turned his gaze away from Eve and he saw Thomas lying down, folding his legs and resting his head on some old jackets that were sprawled in the helicopter, hiding Chuck's token under them to make sure he wouldn't lose it. After taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to relax and forget his sadness and worries for the moment, the seventeen-year-old closed his eyes, hoping to get some rest before arriving wherever they were heading to.

"That's right, Greenie, get your beauty sleep, you look like absolute klunk." Minho commented with a smirk, trying—and slightly achieving—to ease the tension that could be cut with a knife, because Newt and Thomas chuckled and even Eve, who was still looking out of the window, smiled a little. It was obvious that Minho was strongly affected by what had happened, but it was in his nature to try and deal with all this using his trademark sarcasm.

"Didn't know you cared about how I look like, Minho; should I be flattered?" Thomas responded tiredly, receiving a light, good-hearted punch on the arm from the Keeper of the Runners—in fact, could they still use the titles in the Glade now that they had escaped? Would their roles there follow them even now, a constant reminder of what they had lived and what they had suffered to end up here?

"Oh, just go to sleep; and try to improve your humor while you're at it, will you?"

"And you try to improve the way you address others, Minho; if you think about it, Thomas isn't the Greenie anymore, Teresa and I have this honor." Eve uttered and her voice had some small hints of her old sarcasm, despite the tiredness and confusion that was obvious in her tone. Newt chuckled again, relief overwhelming him: of course would Eve be alright, she just needed some proper rest and she would be back to her normal self, just like she had faced everything with composure and strength. Eve herself, on the other hand, despite the exhaustion and the grief she and the others were feeling at the moment, needed this sarcasm of hers more than ever, to help her stay sane and not succumb to the negative thoughts circling her mind.

"Yeah, but you arrived two days later, what a huge difference." Minho replied, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the girl, who refused to turn around. "And we didn't even throw the bonfire feast we used to have every month, to welcome the newbies. Some fun, Gally giving us his mysterious drink—"

"Too bad we missed that, then," the brunette answered and, after that, fell in a complete silence again, while the boys respected that she needed her space right now and left her in peace, except Newt, who briefly squeezed her shoulder to let her know that everything would be okay.

Eve's mind was indeed a mess, thoughts and images dancing like crazy in her mind: of everything she had learned about WICKED and why the Glade was created, of the fights she had been through, of everyone she had met; and the noises the others were leaving, the sighs, the hushed conversations, the shuffling as they tried to make themselves comfortable, were keeping her from going completely mental. But as the sun set entirely, painting the sky in a threatening black, and no lights were switched on in the helicopter, everything in her mind became a fogged blur as she had the impression she would suffocate at any second. The familiar dizziness she had felt before whenever she was surrounded by complete darkness—when she was in the Box and in that small hole in the maze, before entering the corridor that had led them to WICKED's lab—packed her once more and she hid her head in her knees, trying to control her ragged breathing.

Just what the hell is wrong with me? Why is this happening whenever it gets dark?

She tightly hugged her legs and closed her eyes as a massive headache made her feel that she would faint and her whole body started shaking. She could faintly hear the soldier seated opposite her asking what was going on, Teresa calling out for her worriedly and sense Newt next to her placing a hand on her back, wanting to help her relax and breathe calmer, but to no avail. In fact, her grip around her legs tightened even more, as the sixteen-year-old desperately sought a life-line, something to hold her to reality in the darkness that surrounded both the helicopter and her mind.

"…almost there…" even their savior's voice couldn't defeat the panic that had started overwhelming her, barely heard; Eve was feeling so vulnerable and weak at the moment, that she wasn't able to wonder what 'there' was.

"…try to breathe, come on, just breathe…" came the next attempt from Newt; the blond, concerned about his friend's situation, tried to soothe her, remembering that it had worked when she had panicked in her coma, before waking up in the Glade. This time, though, not even this worked, since Eve seemed completely freaked out and Newt's only hope was that the stranger was right and their destination wasn't far away. Until then, he decided to comfort her silently, drawing invisible patterns on Eve's back and slightly patting it. He had even started to wonder whether this distress of hers due to the darkness was a result of the tests she had been through in WICKED's hands before arriving at the Glade; it wouldn't surprise him, considering everything he had learned from that video they had seen in the lab a couple of hours earlier.

No one could calculate how much time passed, but suddenly lights appeared on the ground, revealing a huge building complexion that stood in the middle of the desert, with large walls; all in all, it gave the impression that it secluded those who lived there from the outside world. Some of the Gladers threw nervous glances at it, both impatient to reach it and anxious to see what was awaiting them. Now that they had arrived, the fear for the unknown began to truly sink in; the Glade was like a prison, a trial, anything but home, but it was also something familiar; from the moment they escaped, they knew literally nothing.

A screeching scream-like noise was heard, startling all teenagers, making Eve raise her head from her knees and evoking a string of curses from one of the soldiers, who readied his weapon. "What's going on?" Newt wanted to know, shaking Frypan awake at the same time; his friend jolted up with a gasp, as if he didn't remember where he was and what had happened.

"Damn it! A whole bunch of Cranks is waiting for us down there!" the pilot yelled so loudly, that his voice covered the noise of the machine. "What do we do?"

"Proceed to landing! Everyone, be prepared to face them once we land! And you, guys," the man turned towards them, "the moment we land run as fast as you can towards the building if you wanna live to see tomorrow, got it?"

"Just tell us what the shucking hell is going on, already! What are Cranks?!" Clint demanded angrily, but the soldier didn't pay him any attention, too focused on the problem. The Gladers who were sleeping during the journey, disturbed by the commotion, rubbed their eyes, wondering what was happening, and they all looked out of the window, deciding to follow the man's command and run to safety once they would reach solid ground. For some odd reason, Thomas hadn't woken up, completely shut away in his dream, the loud sounds around them unable to break through; Eve, having forgotten her dizziness and panic due to the adrenaline and the survival instinct kicking in, placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it lightly.

"Thomas, come on, no time to sleep now! Wake up, for God's sake!"

"Thomas! Thomas!" Minho tried next, shoving his friend's shoulder much harder than Eve had done. "Thomas, wake up!"

Little did they know that Thomas was once again lost in one of those vision-like dreams he had in the Glade—the dreams that had triggered his curiosity about the past he couldn't remember and about how they had landed in the Glade. Whether it was the serum of the Griever that had caused the Changing or if he simply had this ability because he used to work with WICKED was still a mystery, but this specific memory wasn't about Teresa warning him that everything would change or about the blond woman—Ava Paige—telling him that WICKED was good.

This memory had travelled him years back.

The scenery was creepy, sending chills down the little boy's spine. Snowflakes were dancing in the wind, eerily bathed in the light of the large lamps that had been built around the area that was surrounded by an electrical fence. It was filled with people that made him feel almost trapped; some of them had masks on their faces, some hadn't, but all of them were staring towards the same direction; the gate that led outside the safe zone, next to a sign that read "WARNING: Restricted area". They were gesturing furiously, screaming and shouting and a dog was barking in the distance, but the boy had shut all noises off, too scared and confused to figure out what they were saying anyway. His eyes were wildly scanning the area, focusing on some strange men in protective uniforms with the initials WCKD on the sleeve and gas masks on their faces, standing at some corners and observing the crowd; then he turned in front of him again as he approached the gate, a woman with brown hair and eyes full of fear carrying him in her arms, making way between those blocking their path.

At some point they made it to the front and she desperately made a gesture towards the guards standing there, as if pleading them to wait for her while she released the boy from her arms, knelt in front of him and looked at him with a fearful and guilty gaze. More men in protective suits appeared, heading towards them and now the boy could see a train waiting several feet away; he wondered who all these men were and why that train was there and why his mother looked so sad.

"Remember…I love you," she gently whispered between her tears and smiled sweetly at him, but this didn't do much to ease the boy's uneasiness; quite the contrary, tears start dwelling in his own eyes too, realizing that something would happen to him. "I love you, Thomas."

The next moment, a pair of strong arms lifted him up abruptly and started carrying him away. This gesture surprised and startled him so much, that he yelled for his mom, reaching out for her, but the man's grip didn't get any looser until they had approached the train and he roughly placed him inside a wagon. Thomas went from resisting to numb within seconds as the fear settled in and stared blankly out of the window and then around him even when the train departed. Other children were in the wagon with him, little boys and girls, all scared like him, and they were accompanied by more men with the WCKD initials on the sleeves and a scary-looking blond woman, who spoke to him with a soft voice.

"Thomas…It's okay."

And then, in a single second, the scenery around him changed unexpectedly, turning from the train wagon to another confided box with walls around suffocating him; and from a scared eight-year-old he became the scared seventeen-year-old who was locked up in the Box once again. He felt the familiar sense of being trapped and travelling upstairs towards unknown destinations, surrounded by various supplies and he couldn't help but scream in agony as he ascended towards the light over his head…until two voices invaded this madness, two voices he knew, belonging to a boy and a girl and landing him back to reality.

"Thomas, come on!"

"Thomas! Thomas!"

Thomas opened his eyes to Minho and Eve hovering over him and shaking him away, the former yelling something in the lines of "Wake up! We gotta go! Come on!" and the girl yanking his shirt collar to make him stand up, both with an expression of urgency on their faces. The sound of the helicopter reached his ears and he remembered immediately where he was and what had transpired: the escape from the maze, their mysterious saviors and their assurances that they would get them somewhere safe. His mind cleared at once, chasing away the sleepiness, and he removed Eve's hand from his shirt as they sat up; his friends, seeing that he had gotten a grip, nodded and stormed out of the helicopter with Thomas on their feet, being helped by one of the soldiers who had rescued them.

"Let's go! Let's go! We gotta go!" the man shouted and pushed him forward; among all the chaos, he could faintly see the rest of the Gladers running towards a huge building illuminated with uncountable lights. "You alright? You alright?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Thomas bellowed instead of an answer, remembering Chuck's token and ran back to the helicopter to retrieve it from his makeshift pillow, despite the man's yells that they had no time. Grabbing the wooden figure, the only thing he had from his little friend who had lost his life so tragically, he turned around again and followed the others, the elder man still urging him to get the hell away from there.

"Cranks! We got Cranks!" he turned to speak to his companions the next moment and Thomas could see a large number of weird creatures at the top of a hill nearby, approaching them with quick and uneven steps. "Gotta move! Not safe out here, kid!"

"Got a swarm to the flank!"

"Go, kid! Go, go!"

"Set a perimeter! Hold them back on the right side!"

The group of teenagers, alarmed by the sudden change of things that only added more stress to their already-existing confusion, obeyed the soldiers' orders almost automatically, heading towards the building with the men next to them for their safety, some of them even pulling their arms to make them go faster, yelling things like "Come on, kids!" and "Move it!". Their shouts, the gunshots that followed, aimed at the creatures they had called 'Cranks' and the noise of the helicopter departing in the background created a scenery of horror and shock, where they had to keep moving despite not understanding anything. They wanted to demand to know what on earth was going on, but the wish for survival had kicked in instinctively and the only thing they could do was keep running and making sure that all of them were there—a situation that was oddly familiar to the battle against the Grievers from which they had barely survived.

Thomas was the last one to enter through the large, metallic doors, right behind Frypan and the short Glader; they were in what seemed like a vast supply room, with people running up and down yelling orders and vehicles carrying all kinds of supplies. He saw the men forming up to face the Cranks threatening the facility before the doors closed and Frypan voiced the question everyone had in mind.

"What exactly is this place?"

"You there, come with me, quickly!" a voice made them jump and they spotted an elderly man gesturing wildly towards them. Deciding to leave the questions aside for now, being too confused to even make up what they should ask first, they silently agreed to do as they were told until they could talk to someone who would be able to explain everything they didn't understand. "Get inside, hurry, hurry, hurry!" he urged them when he had led them to a dark room and pushed them so that all of them would enter as soon as possible, ignoring Thomas's question about what was going on, stating that it was nothing they couldn't handle and then shutting the door close behind them.

Darkness surrounded them once more, with the exception of a dim blue light, and Eve grabbed the arm of the Glader who stood right next to her: in the faint light she could barely make out Teresa's outline, but right now she didn't even care who it was, as long as she had some sort of anchor to keep her sane in the dark. Beside the fear, though, rage had started boiling inside her, only that this time it was raged towards herself: this had gone way too far and as soon as things had settled down, she was planning to find someone responsible to solve the freaking mystery about why she was acting like that whenever it got dark.

"Hey, hey, hey, let us out!" Thomas's voice pierced her ears, but it was what she needed, keeping her grounded and focused at the situation at hand, and she took a deep breath, staring intently at the lamp that casted the blue light to keep her mind distracted from the black all around.

"Or switch on the shucking lights already!" Minho, although not sharing Eve's utter disdain for the dark, wanted some more light too, if not for any other reason, at least to see what their surroundings looked like—a trait he had gained during the three years he had spent as a Runner.

As if they were being watched and someone had heard Minho's command, lights on the ceiling switched on immediately and they were met with a very pleasant sight: a set of tables in the middle of the room forming a longer one, loaded with food that would be more than enough for twenty of them and not just the nine they were, a variety of meat, rice, vegetables and fruit that reminded everyone that they hadn't eaten anything since last night, since their supplies had been destroyed by the Grievers and it was impossible for them to make breakfast.

"Dibs on the rice!" Frypan said cheerfully and that was the clue for everyone run and grab whatever was in front of them, too impatient and hungry to even sit down for the first minutes.

When they had eaten for a while, when they settled their hunger, they also became more cheerful and soon laughter echoed throughout the room, with Winston commenting how the food was way better than Frypan's back at the Glade. And then Teresa playfully threw a portion of rice towards one of the two 'anonymous Gladers' as Eve had characterized them in her mind, which signaled the beginning of the true fun and an epic food fight. They burst out their relief to be free from the maze, their immense happiness to be together, that they acted like they should have been acting for years: like real and carefree teenagers who joked with their friends and Frypan's desperate attempts to protect the rice at all costs only to have it thrown at his face, courtesy of Eve, who couldn't stop her ringing laughter after all the confusion, the qualms and the grief.

But it is common knowledge that all good things eventually come to an end and when the laughter faded away, when they left the table to make themselves comfortable in a corner and when some of them started throwing nervous looks towards the door, that was when reality sank in again and they returned to the serious and concerned state they were in before, realizing that they still had no idea what was going on.

"I don't know who these guys are, but they can cook." Frypan said, trying to keep the atmosphere easy, but he couldn't avoid the glances that indicated that most of them were focusing on the first part; on their saviors' identity.

"Who are they really, though?" Teresa asked rhetorically, with a tired voice, and Eve shifted to rest her back better from her place next to Thomas, reminiscing about everything they had lived today: the mess at WICKED's laboratory until these men had showed up…and a part of her couldn't stop thinking that this was too coincidental to actually be a coincidence.

"Well, we know they're no friends of WICKED," Newt stated; no matter what, this was something he could be certain for. After all, the video of Ava Paige had showed the same men who had saved them fighting and eliminating the WICKED scientists and after everything Thomas had revealed them, everyone who battled against their captors was someone they could consider an ally.

The enemies of our enemies are our friends, I suppose, he thought, but then Eve joining the conversation as the voice of suspicion cut off any further thoughts; he could see that his friend was still cautious and he felt partly responsible for that, for he believed he had told her too many things when she had arrived. It was good for her, of course, being one of the two first girls of the Glade, scared and with memory loss, but it had also made her thinking everything trough twice and thrice, never allowing her at least one moment of rest.

"Is that enough, though?" she was saying now, her eyes travelling to each of them. "After everything we've been through, do you really think that's enough? We don't remember our lives as it is and WICKED used us like shucking objects…don't you think we deserve to at least know what's awaiting us from now on? They're WICKED's enemies, but is that enough for us?"

"It's good enough for me," Minho replied and sat up from the small table he was lying on, giving the impression that he was asleep. "You guys think too much. We're free! Enjoy it."

"Easier said than done, Minho. True, we're free, but it was such a hard path that it's not easy to simply enjoy it…not to mention that everything, these men appearing out of nowhere and bringing us here…it was just pure luck. It doesn't matter if you spent three years or two days in the Glade, we've all seen what WICKED is capable of…it won't be easy to relax."

Before any Glader could process her words or say anything in return, the door at the other side of the room opened with a metallic sound and they all jumped on their feet, gathering together as a man in casual clothing entered. He had dark hair that had started to turn grey and an air of superiority and arrogance as his eyes scanned the group, as if assessing their condition. "You kids doing alright?" he wanted to know, speaking calmly and smiling at them, intending to look comforting and friendly, but this smile only made him look creepier. "Sorry about all the fuss. We had ourselves a bit of a swarm."

Yeah, we already got that, thank you very much, can we now jump to the main point, please? Eve addressed him mentally. It was getting more and more frustrating with every minute that passed, how everyone only demanded them to obey, to understand and to keep the questions to themselves: would no one understand their state?

"What's with the Rat Man?" Minho hissed to not be heard and the two girls had to suppress the giggles that threatened to escape their lips, because Minho was somehow right, this man's appearance gave him something rat-like.

"Who are you?" Thomas asked back, avoiding 'Rat Man's' question, not only because he and the others longed for some answers, but also because he didn't know whether there was an actual answer. They had survived the ordeal of the maze and were now in a seemingly safe place where they had been offered some proper food, but they were tired, sad because of the losses they had suffered and they had no idea where they were and what would happen to them.

"I'm the reason you're all still alive," the man answered, still with that calm and comforting-wanna-be voice. "It's my intention to keep it that way. Now, come with me. We'll get you kids squared away."

They followed him across a network of corridors that reminded them of the maze; this place also had the sense that one wrong turn and you would be lost for good, never to find the correct path again. The faint sound of machines could be heard, someone was saying something in the distance and sparks were flying from cables and devices, as if their new hideout was some sort of factory—in fact, considering its size, it wouldn't be totally illogical for WICKED's enemies to built their basis in an abandoned factory.

"You can call me Mr. Janson. I run this place," the man explained and all of them nodded, finally having some useful information—although, judging from Minho's expression, he'd never get bored of the nickname he had spontaneously found for him. "For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes. Watch yourselves," he warned them, pointing at a spot near them, where sparks flew around.

"That means you're taking us home?" Thomas's voice had a hint of intense hope and Eve's mind returned her to Ava Paige and her narration: about how the world had been destroyed by the sun and then a mysterious virus...

And what's home, anyway? A home we don't remember, parents we don't know, birthplaces that probably don't exist anymore? It's just us right now, it's the only thing we can know for sure.

"A home of sorts. Sadly, there wouldn't be much left from wherever you came from," Janson confirmed the girl's thoughts, but the revelation wasn't something she didn't already know or something that shocked her; from the moment all their memories had been erased, their image about home had changed for good and it had absolute no sense to mourn for something they basically never had. "But we do have a place for you," he went on and she blocked out her thoughts for now to listen to him. "A refuge, outside the Scorch, where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?" he briefly turned towards them, this time with an even wider smile.

Too good to actually be true, Newt thought, a part of him still unable to believe that he had escaped the Glade and the maze. Apparently Minho had similar thoughts, because he was the one to ask the next question, talking to Janson for the first time since he received them. "Why are you helping us?"

"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target, as no doubt by now you've noticed."

Of course they had noticed, they had been in the heart of the events for years, used like lab rats in order for WICKED to find out what made them immune. The cause and the goal weren't the problems here—no one would ever be opposite to the creation of a cure—but the means; the way they had been undergoing experiments and challenges since childhood, some of them manipulated to work for these deranged scientists and most of them being sent to the maze, which was a torture and a challenge that had given them enough nightmares for a lifetime.

Janson took out a card and used it to gain access in an endless corridor, announcing that there lay the beginning of their new lives. "First things first…let's do something about that smell," he mocked them and this sounded far more appealing to the teenagers than vague assurances of safety.

The soft orange light illuminating the shower room and the hot water that fell on her was exactly what Eve needed. It was as if it didn't only clean her body, but also her entire existence, erasing the memories and the guilt that had been tormenting her for a while; erasing all the horrors she had lived in the Glade and the cost they had to pay for ending up here. Of course, deep down she knew that this was nonsense and that the memories would never be erased; they would always be there, a permanent scar to remind her everything that had transpired until now. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes, desperate to forget for at least one moment…but not even this was granted to her, for the second her eyes closed, the memories returned in all their ferocity.

Trapped in the Box, with the unconscious Teresa beside her, unable to escape, only to faint as well…

Surrounded by the endless darkness that wanted to swallow her entirely…The emotional pain…The woman's voice in her head, announcing that she would be 'the last one', the last one to enter the Glade as the only girl…Newt's voice calming her down and how she had anchored herself on him, like a life-line she needed…

Learning the first things about the Glade and how no one remembered anything from their past…The first doubts and questions, theories discussed first with Teresa and then with Newt….The first relaxed moments, joking around with Newt, Zart and Chuck…And then the first true hope for an exit, the news that Minho and Thomas had found something like a gate that could be leading to the outside world…

The fierce fight against the Grievers, those horrid havoc-wreaking creatures that destroyed the Glade and eliminated the majority of the Gladers…Alby sacrificing himself to save them all, pleading Thomas to get the rest of them out of there…

Thomas revealing them the truth behind Glade, the Creators and what they were doing there…Their plan to escape...Gally wanting to give her, Teresa and Thomas to the Grievers, believing in his stupidity that this was the solution…

Their escape and the second fight against the Grievers, which killed another large number of Gladers…The events in WICKED's laboratory and Ava Paige's revelation about the Flare virus and the role they would play…Gally appearing after being stung, threatening to kill Thomas…Little Chuckie interfering and taking the bullet to save his best friend…

Eve opened her eyes at this memory, not wanting to go further….Chuck lying lifelessly on the ground was the worst scar of all and she didn't even know if the pain would ever get better. He was only twelve years old, a little boy dreaming of going back home and hug his parents…he was one step before fulfilling his dream of freedom, only to leave them so suddenly. She blinked wildly, sensing the tears that ran down her cheeks together with the water drops; it wouldn't be long and she would start sobbing, something she wanted to prevent no matter what.

No tears, Eve. No. Shucking. Tears! Get a grip already, you need to be strong for whatever will come.

She focused on the present now, blocking the brief past she could remember…and, truth be told, she could stay in the showers for a lifetime if the water didn't turn cold after a while. She dried herself with the towel hanging right outside and wore the clothes someone had put there for her. They were simple, a pale blue short-sleeved blouse, dark blue pants and black sneakers, yet she felt so grateful for being clean that she forgot about who all these people were for a moment. Of course, everything came back when a scientist dressed in a white lab coat came to take her and Teresa and lead them to a large laboratory, where the rest of the boys already sat in different corners and were being examined.

"Hello," a woman with brown-blond hair and glasses greeted her as she took a seat on an examination chair right next to Minho, who was jogging on a device in order for his endurances and vitals to be tested. "I'm Hannah Donovan and you must be Eve, right?"

"Right." Eve nodded and eyed a needle Dr. Donovan was carrying with cautiousness. "Em…what are you gonna do with that?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll just take a blood sample to see your general condition and what you have been deprived of out there, so I can know what treatment to give you. And then we will have a look at your injuries," the older woman explained and pointed towards the bruise Gally had given her by slapping her.

"Oh, that's...nothing, actually…I'm more concerned about this one," the brunette sixteen-year-old revealed the scar the Griever's leg had caused on her ankle. The blood had dried and had been washed off, but it was still stinging slightly.

"We will look after everything, be sure of that. For now, lean back and relax," Dr. Donovan smiled at her.

It appeared that the malnutrition and her very small stay in the Glade hadn't harmed her health that much, especially compared to those who had been three years there. Still, Dr. Donovan gave her a vaccine and vitamins to make sure that everything was alright with her and handed her a tube of ointment that would help her with her scar. After that, the doctor's expression changed and turned from comforting and encouraging to serious and sharp.

"And now that we have looked after the most important things on you…is there anything else you wish you share? Something that has been troubling you?"

The question sounded odd to Eve's ears, too sudden and specific…it was almost as if the other one knew or suspected. She felt the urge to conceal her worried, to pretend that everything was alright with her, but then she mentally scolded herself that she was being paranoid; not to mention that it was her chance to learn. "Actually, there is," she decided to be honest in the end. "I panic whenever it's dark around me. I get dizzy and it's as if I can't breathe at all, as if the darkness is swallowing me entirely…I lose my focus, I lose my composure."

"I see. And has this been happening every time you are surrounded by darkness?"

"Well…It kinda disappears when there's the sense of danger."

"Adrenalin," Donovan nodded. "It appears, Eve, that you suffer from nyctophobia, a severe fear of the dark triggered by your mind, especially under threat. And considering the hardships you have been through, its causes are psychological and could even go back to the past none of you can remember."

"Oh, great. Just great," Eve mumbled quietly, angered towards herself and towards WICKED…what could have happened in her past that made her like that in darkness? "And is there no way to cure it?"

"Normally I would suggest what scientists call 'exposure therapy', but given your special circumstances, I fear it might only get worse instead of improving," she explained. "Therefore the only reliable solution I can offer you is to find an anchor, something to keep you grounding whenever you have these crises, something to focus on."

Yeah, I got this message already, Eve thought and shook her head in frustration, suddenly feeling extremely weak and vulnerable. To distract herself, she avoided Dr. Donovan and looked around to see how the others were doing: Minho was still jogging, Winston and the two anonymous Gladers were being examined, Frypan and Clint were talking to their assigned doctors, Thomas was sitting quietly as a scientist took a blood sample, Teresa was still on her own and Newt was staring suspiciously at a man who was holding a large needle.

"Uh, w-wait, what is that?" the blond wanted to know, as if the needle didn't have some sort of cure, but poison.

"Just a little cocktail. Calcium, folate, vitamins A through Z. Pretty much everything you've been deprived of out there. Try to relax," the man told him smiling calmly.

Yeah, man, sure, whatever, simply 'relax' while you stick a giant needle in my arm, Newt gathered all his self-control to not say it out loud. He looked away and his eyes met Eve's, who had been talking to her doctor until now—Newt had even heard faintly the word 'darkness' and he had wondered if Eve would finally find out what was going on. He could say that she looked troubled, even frustrated, and he shot her a smile, which she returned immediately—and that was enough for him to truly relax, the assurance that they and their friends were in this together. She even looked differently right now, surely changed from the meal and the shower just like all of them; she didn't look like the weary and troubled teenager who had arrived in the Glade. Newt couldn't deny how much more beautiful and healthier she looked, with her dark brown curls, now clean, falling freely on her shoulders, and framing her face, which had some color now.

"Evening, Dr. Crawford!" the doctor examining Thomas and greeting a dark-skinned woman with black hair who had just come in returned them to reality: Newt winced slightly at the stinging of the needle and Eve turned back to talk to her own doctor.

"Good evening. How are the new arrivals holding up?" Dr. Crawford wanted to know as she approached the examination chair Teresa was seated on; Thomas followed her with his eyes, slightly alarmed by her too professional voice and her sharp gaze.

"So far, so good."

"Alright. And you must be Teresa," the woman greeted the black-haired girl, who nodded quietly, still looking quite tired. Crawford started closing the curtains around them, but Thomas couldn't react to that—because it was curious, considering that this hadn't happened with Eve, Clint and another Glade who were seated on similar chairs—for at that moment he was approached.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?" he confirmed cautiously, wondering what all this was about.

"Come with me, please," said the bald man who had just come and, despite his kind tone, Thomas sensed that he didn't exactly have a choice here and that he should do as he was told—for now. As he left, he turned to throw a last look towards Teresa, who returned the gaze sullenly before Dr. Crawford closed the last curtain, blocking her from him and, it seemed, from the rest of the world.

"Now come on, it's time you go and have some proper dinner," one of the doctors announced when all tests were complete and Minho had gotten off the device that had tested his endurances. They all jumped on their feet, rubbing their arms, stretching themselves and getting ready to get out of the lab, when they noticed that Teresa hadn't joined them yet.

"Wait a minute, what about our friends?" Eve wanted to know, feeling a familiar tension; after everything they had been through, it felt as if they were leaving Thomas and Teresa behind, something that caused her uneasiness.

"Don't worry, it won't take long, you go ahead," the man answered with a voice that didn't leave much room for objections.

During their walk towards whatever their destination was, Newt wanted to ask Eve what she had found out about her fear of the dark. He guessed, though, that she wouldn't want to talk about it, not now, with everything being still fresh and with the others present. And the strange chatter that he could hear from the room where they were headed preventing from saying anything, especially when the door opened and they were met with a sight that caught them totally off guard. Tables were sat all around the room, filled with boys and girls their age sitting in groups, talking and laughing while eating—and there weren't many scenarios to interpret the situation.

"You've got to be shucking kidding us," Newt hissed.

"Okay, seriously, what the hell—?!" Winston couldn't even finish his question from the shock.

"It wasn't just—" came the next comment from Eve. "Guys…It wasn't just us!"

A/N: Alright, everyone, that was it for now, an extra long chapter just for you ;) I really hope you liked it and I promise I will update quicker from now on :)