THOMAS

It takes all my strength not to go after her. As soon as the Doors slam closed, I can't take it. Even though no one will ever let me hear the end of it, I let my knees buckle. While Rose is great at feigning confidence, I suck at it. My knees slam into the ground so hard I nearly pitch forward and splat into the ground face-first. I catch myself with my hands. Gally lets out a cruel laugh, and I wonder if Newt would let me punching him in the face six times go over. But since he probably wouldn't, I stay put, staring at the ground while my breathing quickens. Am I going into shock or something?

"Hey, man," Chuck starts.

"Go away," I bite out harshly, breathless.

"You heard him!" Minho's voice rings out commandingly. "Everyone go get some food and sleep and if Rose shows up in the morning, we'll all be happy little shanks." A pause. "Well, go on!"

I hear people shuffling away. Minho's boots appear in my line of vision, followed by the rest of him as he drops to the ground, sitting crosslegged. "Man, are you gonna stay up all night?" His voice is kind, not incredulous.

"I have to," I hear myself say. "It's what she did."

"It's pure torture," Minho points out.

"Look," I say through gritted teeth. "You can go get some food and sleep, because I'm not going anywhere. Don't waste your breath trying to convince me otherwise.

"Don't dismiss me like that." His tone is hard. "She's one of our most valuable Runners, and damn near close to being one of my better friends. I ain't leaving."

I sit back, mimicking him and crossing my legs under me. Before I can respond to his surprisingly open statement, Newt drops to the ground next to me, his face guilt-ridden and pained. "Well said, Minho. We're stayin' up with ya, Tommy."

"I thought you hated her," Minho and I say at the same time.

"You . . ." Newt trails off. "I don't. I think that for a little while I thought I did, but now I realize how much of a buggin' idiot I am for lettin' her run off into the Maze without my support and all that. Since I screwed up, the only thing I can do is sit here and worry my shuck butt off about whether she's gonna survive or not." He drops his head into his hands. "It's not her I hate, it's myself for thinkin' I hate her."

I make a noncommittal noise. "I hope she makes it through the night."

"The feelin' is mutual," Newt says, voice muffled.

"Ditto," Minho says. "If she's gone, I've got no one to exchange sarcastic comments with."

ROSE

The moment the Doors close, I spin on my heel and jog right back to them. Staying here is the most sensible thing to do. If I make it through the night, I should be right here for when they open.

I sit down, leaning against the Doors, and start waiting.

An hour passes. I start to feel confident. And then a Griever rolls around the corner, shattering whatever hopes I had. I scramble to my feet, wishing I had some sort of explosive device. I can do the dive and roll thingy, then run. Weave my way through the paths until I lose any or all Grievers on my tail, then head back here.

A second Griever rolls around the corner behind the first and my plans are dashed. With a loud curse, I turn and start climbing up the wall, digging my fingers and toes into miniscule cracks. As with when I wanted to get Thomas out of the Maze when he was stuck in over the night, I scale the wall quickly and run along the top, feeling vaguely spritelike until I throw myself across a gap and trip when I land. Almost before I've hit the stone, I'm back up and running, desperation fueling me.

I run along the tops of the walls, jumping when necessary, until I see one that I can stop at: one that rises above the other walls and has a thick curtain of ivy on it. I duck between the fronds and press my back into the stone, sighing. My elbow is bleeding, though I have no idea where I hit it, and my shoulder is starting to hurt. I probably ripped some stitches. I'm hardly surprised.

Slowly, the sky darkens. I start getting cramps from standing in one stiff position for so long. I check my watch every hour.

At around one, I'm about to shift my stance when the wall behind me ejects spikes into my back and shoulders. Needlelike spikes. A scream erupts from me and I stumble out of the ivy, almost into a Griever. It hisses and clicks and whirrs at me. I scream again, more from fear than pain, and without a second thought push myself over the edge of the wall. It's stupid, suicidal, and will keep me from being stung by the shuck thing.

Mid-fall, the front of my shoulder hits something, wrenching me around. I slam back-first into the ground, blacking out momentarily. When I wake up, the wall I was balancing on is moving towards me. I forgot that the walls in the Maze move at night. Shit.

I don't know how I make it to my feet. My blood-soaked back is making it hard to see straight, it's giving me so much agony. But I stand and make it out of there before I get smushed between the wall. I force myself into a jarring, awkward run, hissing more than breathing.

I keep blacking out from a combination of pain and exhaustion. I can't get a full breath either. I think one or two of my ribs have been pushed in. Thank you, falling-from-something-ten-stories-tall-and-landing-on-your-back. I have no idea how I didn't die, but I'm not complaining.

I black out for an especially long time on three occasions. On the third, when I wake up, there's a Griever standing over me, inspecting me.

Haven't I had enough!?

Adrenaline spikes through me, giving me energy I never would have had without it. I roll backwards, making my back scream in pain, and scramble to my feet. The North Doors shouldn't be too far from here.

I run.

Minho's Number One Rule echoes in my head, over and over. "NEVER STOP RUNNING." So, even when I'm about to pass out, I force my muscles to keep me in motion. Every bone in my body screams with pure exhaustion, but NEVER STOP RUNNING.

NEVER

STOP

RUNNING

NEVER

STOP

RUNNING

Newt's face flashes through my mind. A surge of strength passes over me and I pick up my pace until I'm nearly sprinting. I skid around the bend and nearly burst into tears with relief. There are the Doors. And they're open.

Something slams into my hurt shoulder, ripping a scream from my throat and throwing me to the ground. There's a stabbing sensation in my kidneys, then a burning that travels through my body. I claw at the ground, getting my feet under me, and scramble away from what must be the Griever. When I look back, it's rolling away from me. Was its only purpose to sting me?

Does it matter?

I notice something odd about the Doors. They're open, but where I last saw Gladers is empty. I squint, push myself forward. I'm hanging onto the wall now to keep myself on my feet. Why is that space empty? They seriously didn't give up on me?

Tears threaten to spring from my cheeks. Thomas, Minho, Newt, none of them had any faith in my survival abilities? Sure, they suck worse than crap, but I made it through the night, yeah?

Something in my mind snaps.

Hate courses through me, mixing with fury. I hate this place and I hate my brother and Minho and Newt and everyone else and I hate them and I'm so pissed that they didn't think I'd make it through the night and I hate sexism and I want to break the neck of everyone in the Glade—

Crunch.

My face slams into the ground. I'm almost at the doors, and there's someone staring at me. Someone spins and yells something.

NO.

I will NOT be helped.

I make it to my feet, the dangerous swirl of hatred and anger fueling me, pushing me forwards. I make it to the Doors. The guy who shouted for help tries to support me. I curl my fingers into a ball and punch him in the jaw so hard he goes flying backwards several feet. I laugh, enjoying this new power. A few Gladers run up to me, but I punch them all away, loving the sound of their bodies hitting the dirt.

This is what I should feel like.

"ROSE!"

I spin towards the voice, lashing out with my foot. It catches Thomas in the chest and slams him backwards. Minho and Newt, just behind him, pull up short, eyes wide.

"Rose," Minho says carefully.

I let out a feral scream and tackle him, whacking his head on the ground. Someone pins my wrists behind me. "She's been stung," Newt yells. "Someone get the Grief Serum!" He yanks me off of Minho and jams his finger into my shoulder. I scream, struggling to get away as fire rages across my back. I shriek that I hate him, that he deserves to die, that he doesn't have squat faith in me.

I wind up on my stomach, my cheek pressed into the dirt. Instead of the flames that used to lick at my veins, I'm just cold. Newt is kneeling overtop of me, literally sitting on me to keep me from moving. He's alternating between trying to calm me down and talking to the first guy I punched, asking for details. I pause in my squirming to listen.

"How long ago did ya say she was stung?" Newt is demanding.

"Ten minutes," the guy replies. "At least, if not more."

"How is she not . . ." Newt looks at me. I start trying to get him off me again. Damn everyone in this Glade.

"I got the Grief Serum," someone announces.

I fight with all my strength at this. Newt presses his hands into my back where I think my rips have popped in and suddenly I can't get a breath. "Rosie, calm down," he says, and I do, mostly because my lungs are begging for air, air I can't give them. I try to form words, but my own boyfriend is choking me, albeit unwittingly. My fingers scrabble at the dirt. Get off, Newt. Get off! I can't breathe!

"In her neck," Newt orders. Thomas crouches beside me, takes one look at me, and shouts, "Newt! Stop pressing on her back!"

He complies, pushing his palms into my shoulder instead. I suck in a huge breath, wondering how I have never appreciated the sweetness of oxygen before.

"Rose," Thomas says. "I need you to breathe, okay? Breathe deep."

Something tells me to listen to him. I keep sucking in air until the pain in my ribs makes me stop. I let it all out in a whoosh. Thomas shakes his head. "Rose, you need to breathe as deep as you can. Ignore it if it hurts. I know you can do this."

I breathe.

I fight past the pain and breathe until my lungs are full, and then I breathe in more for good measure. And more.

It happens.

I feel my ribs pop back into place, and I can breathe properly. But it also sends a wave of agony spiking through me. I start thrashing around again and Thomas stabs a needle into my neck. I don't even have time to speak before everything goes black.

THOMAS

The light leaves her eyes, which are covered by her eyelids. I push Newt off her and lift her shirt, baring her back. There's a bruising around her ribs, but when I run my hand over it, they all feel even. I sigh with relief and sit back on my heels, looking up at Newt. "I think she got it."

"Where the hell did that bloody medical knowledge come from?" Newt demands. "And how the hell did ya know what was wrong with her?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Newt," I say, almost acidly. "Let's just get her to the Homestead."

I kick everyone out of the room when I bandage up my sister. I'm allowed to see her; the others aren't. It's a sibling thing.

I apply something that Jeff called "iodine" to all the stab wounds on her back, which I don't want to know how were made. I bandage them up, then delicately reapply the stitches to her shoulder wound. I don't think she was hurt anywhere else, so I tip some water into her mouth, which she automatically swallows, and put her shirt back on, then call everyone back in.

"We need ta find out how—" Newt starts, picking up Rose's hand and perching on the edge of the bedframe.

"Don't say we need to figure out how I know medical stuff," I interrupt. "I'm not in the mood."

"I was gonna say that we need to find out why she didn't react to the Griever stingin' her," Newt says, shooting me a cold look.

"Don't ask me," I say, holding up my hands defensively. "I can't remember a single shuck thing about our past lives."

"We can't really figure anything out until she wakes up," Minho points out. "We don't know why she came out of the East Doors, or why she went ballistic, or why she didn't react to the Griever stinging her, or how the heck she managed to push two of her ribs out of alignment. We won't know anything until she wakes up and gives us an explanation. Hopefully she'll be back to being a sane person by then."

"Way to be cheery, wise guy," I say. "And I don't know about you two, but I'm dead tired." I pick up the blanket I covered Newt with the night before last. "See you in dreamland." I lower myself to the floor, push the blanket over my head, and am asleep in minutes.

Two updates in one day! Am I cool or what? :) You wouldn't believe how fast I got these cranked out. I am seriously addicted to The Maze Runner (in case you couldn't tell). Thanks for all your reviews!