Tasha woke, sunlight beaming down upon her, with Newt holding her hand and Chuck sitting beside her. He was startled when he saw her moving, but simply shrugged at her questioning glance and went back to absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Tasha groaned and stretched as much as she could, mindful not to jostle her sleeping boyfriend.
"Doors are gonna open soon." Chuck mumbled quietly. Tasha nodded, squinting in the morning light, wondering when exactly she had woken up, but not entirely sure, her watch absent from her wrist. "They are gonna come back." Chuck drew her from her sleep-fogged haze, his voice devoid of hope which broke Tasha's heart. There was a soft sigh beside Tasha and she turned to see Newt blinking in the light, his grip tightening on her hand.
"Chuck…" He wasn't certain of how to continue, too many words unspoken, hanging in the air. There was the rumble of stone doors, jolting them from the suspended animation that they found themselves in. Chuck jumped with a start, waiting expectantly by the entrance to the maze, ignoring Newt's pitying look.
"Guys, get up." Chuck said, a renewed enthusiasm in his words as the doors slowly grinded open. The hopeful expression on his face was enough to make Tasha pull herself and Newt to his feet, if only to humour the kid beside them. There was a small gathering of hopefuls by the doors who had made their way over to the stone entrance, Zart and Frypan among them, more for Chuck's sake than anyone else's as he had never lost anyone like this, and they knew what it was like. Perhaps it was the fact that they had to be hopeful, that with Minho being the best of the best, he had to survive. But the doors opened as they did every morning, and no-one was at the other end.
"I told you, Chuck, they're not coming back." Newt told him quietly, his expression trained on the kid to make sure he understood, carefully neutral despite the sadness in his voice. Chuck seemed confused, but most of the other gladers turned and began heading back to the homestead, brief moment of hope gone, now coming back to their post-death haze of confusion and being disheartened. Chuck looked around, almost as if he was trying to will them back to him, to believe. Tasha simply turned, still holding Newt's hand, and began to follow him. Zart was the last to turn, almost as if he was stuck, watching the other end of the maze.
"Hey…" Zart's voice, full of disbelief, pulled the others from their stupor. "No way!" A grin wide enough to split his face plastered from ear to ear. Chuck's face lit up and the gathered Gladers turned. There's limping from the Maze, dirty, bloody and looking as though they were about to drop dead, Minho, Alby and Thomas.
"Yeah!" Chuck's voice rang throughout the Glade as he moved to allow them to pass, continuing his whooping as they partially collapsed, resting for what must have been the first time since the doors closed. Chuck pumping his fist into the air and Tasha had to give the kid credit, he certainly never gave up hope.
"Hey, what's up?" Newt dropped Tasha's hand racing over to their now unconcious leader as they lay Alby on the ground in front of them. Jeff quickly bent to inspect him, his face distraught at the state of their leader. There was blood on Alby's temple and he looked like he was - Tasha's breathing almost stopped completely. Alby looked like he had been stung, covered in sweat, faint muscle spasms making him twitch where he lay. The Med-Jack seemed at a loss for words, looking to Clint for help. Their silent conversation was looked over by most, apart from Tasha, who was having trouble breathing, mind invaded by shadowy figures chasing her down darkened, stone corridors.
"Saw a griever?" Chuck asked, looking from Minho to Thomas, adoration clear in his voice.
"Yeah I saw one." Thomas muttered, squatting beside Minho, looking at the kid. It looked as if he could hardly believe it, that he didn't realised exactly what happened or how he had escaped, just they he was alive and he wasn't sure how. Tasha knew that feeling all too well and she focused on breathing. That was the look of someone who had been trapped in the Maze.
"He didn't just see it." Minho huffed, trying his best to appear to be calm, "He killed it." Tasha could hear the intake of breath from the surrounding crowd, and felt herself drawn along with it. She could see past Minho's vaguely flustered, post-run demeanour, he knew what it was like too. He didn't want to go back.
There's no way out, the voice in her head whispered quietly. She clenched her jaw and looked to the Med-Jacks, silently asking if they needed help. Jeff sighed wearily, but shook his head.
"Alright, we need a buggin' gathering." Newt's frown deepened as he spoke. Tasha could tell he was overjoyed at his friends returning, but there was a dark edge to his voice at the news. "Med-Jacks, take Alby and get him to a bed." He directed, Clint and Jeff hauling Alby off to the Med-Jack hut with a grunt. "Someone call the Keepers." He looked around at the gathered Gladers, waiting for a volunteer from the still shocked audience. Chuck took off before anyone could ask him, yelling about a gathering with a grin on his face, far too bright for the situation at hand. "Are you two OK?" He asked, kneeling beside the Keeper and the Greenie. With those four words, the others gathered suddenly had a very clear understanding that they had been dismissed, and began to mill over to the gathering building. Minho nodded breathlessly, as did Thomas. They seemed tired as all hell, in need of a good night's sleep and some bandaids at the very least, but allowed Tasha to give them a cursory inspection. She may not be a Med-Jack, but she had been around them enough to know how to do a basic medical check. At a glance, they were fine, but Newt promised to let them see the Med-Jacks later for a full check after the gathering.
Newt finally smiled. "It's bloody good to have you back." He looked between the boys, clapping Thomas on the shoulder. Tasha hung back, her hands fidgeting idly as Newt greeted the boys. She knew now that she wasn't the only one capable of surviving, that maybe if the strongest could survive, it wasn't a fluke and maybe she was meant to survive. It's Minho who locked gazes with her first, eyebrows raised as he caught her zoning out. Tasha swallowed hard, finally focusing on him. Minho was alive.
She shot forward, hugging him tightly, her forehead pressed to his chest. "I told you that someone else could do it." Minho's grin was evident in his words and Tasha laughed, a genuine, honest to goodness laugh. In that one moment, Tasha and Minho understood each other perfectly, the hell that was waiting for your best friend in the Maze, wondering if they would ever see each other again.
"I'm glad you're not dead." She told him, more emotion in her words than she had ever spoken to him and he chuckled, mirroring her emotional standings.
"Me too." He told her, before they separated. Beside them, Thomas and Newt had been having a quiet conversation, giving the two Runners some privacy, before Tasha interrupted loudly.
"And you, dumb shank." She turned on the Greenie, making the him confused and slightly on edge, but she was smiling and she pulled him into a hug. He was surprised, but her actions said more than her words ever could. "Thanks." She mumbled, and Thomas hugged her back, bemusedly.
"Come on you saps, we'd better head over." Humour was clear in Newt's voice as he spoke, and Tasha sheepishly untangled herself from Thomas and sidled up beside Newt, allowing the other two to lead the way to the Gathering. She laced her fingers with his and grinned when he kissed her temple, watching the Keeper and the Greenie ahead of them.
Chuck had managed to bring most, if not all of the Gladers to the gathering, sitting around in the spectator seats while chosen few occupied the middle of the building. Tasha took a seat up the back as Newt stayed close to the centre, by Thomas, Minho and Gally, as he was second in command. Gally stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the room, looking around at the others, he nodded slightly as every quieted down and he began.
"Things are changing, there's no denying that." He said, addressing the whole room. He may not be likable, but he had a certain presence that meant he could command the room's attention. "First Ben gets stung in broad daylight," he paused, to which Tasha internally winced, "then Alby." His voice is heavy with the connotations of his words, informing those who did not already know the condition of their leader, the dire situation they now found themselves in. "And now our Greenie here," his voice took a more authoritative feel, turning to Thomas, "has taken it upon himself to enter the maze; which is a clear violation of our rules here." His hand gestures punctuated each of his words, as he looked around, as if searching for confirmation or support. The faces looking back at him were mostly blank, hearing the news for the first time, in shock.
"Yeah, well he saved Alby's life." Frypan piped up from where he stood beside Newt. Tasha nodded her head once, despite the fact no-one was looking at her. Thomas had helped save Alby's life, that meant more than some rule.
"Did he?" Gally asked, looking from Frypan to Newt. Tasha, from where she was sitting, had a clear view of Newt's you've got to be kidding me look and she felt herself mirroring it. Gally's expression hardened as he swung around to face Thomas, "For three years we've coexisted with these things. Now you've killed one of them." Thomas swallowed watching the way Gally glared at him, and waited with nervous anticipation. "Who knows what that could mean for us." He reasoned, turning from Thomas to the rest of the Gladers.
"Well what do you suggest?" Newt asked, skeptically from where he leaned against one of the poles supporting the Gathering room.
"He has to be punished." Gally said, easily, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Shouts broke out around them and Tasha felt herself rise out of her seat, anger bubbling in her stomach. Thomas had helped save Alby's life, he had survived a night in the maze and earned her loyalty. She would fight against his punishment with everything she had.
"Minho, you were there with him, what do you think?" Newt's voice was quiet and speculative, he was concerned about the Greenie, she could tell. She just wanted to be beside him, supporting him, instead, she cast her gaze to the Keeper of the Runners and felt her heart speed up in anticipation of Minho's words.
"I think…" he began, "In the whole time we've been here, no'one's ever-" he chose his words carefully, his gaze flicking to Tasha, before settling back on Gally, "killed a Griever." There was a silence that followed that spoke volumes, only punctuated by the buzzing of the insects. The moment weighed on them all and Tasha could see in the back of her mind, the Griever speeding after her on it's mechanical legs, getting closer to her until she wound through a twisting set of corners and hid beneath one of the ivy covered walls. If Thomas had killed it, she vowed then and there to protect him from further harm. He had helped save Minho, and had helped save Alby. He had survived. "When I turned tail and ran," Minho broke the silence and Tasha looked up, almost startled, "this dumb shank," his gaze flicked to Thomas, his expression hard and thoughtful, "stayed behind to help Alby." He pulled his gaze from Thomas and looked around at the gathered Gladers. "I don't know if he's brave or stupid-" The chuckles from the surrounding Gladers made Tasha clench her teeth, but she remained focused on Minho. "-but we need more of it." He finished. Tasha grinned, all sharp teeth and flashing eyes because yes, this is why Minho was her friend. Minho was like her, he could recognise value in a person based on their instincts and personality, not their ability to stick to the rules. "I say we make him a runner." Minho finished, gaze locked with Tasha. She nodded once, a brief confirmation of support, before the room broke out into confusion, some, like Chuck, blindly supporting the Greenie, while others voiced their thoughts against the opinion. Newt pushed himself off of his support pole, arms crossed and expression a mix of amused and hungry, as if he couldn't wait to see where this was going. Yes, he liked how this was progressing, even if he wouldn't admit it.
"If you wanna through the newbie a parade, go ahead." Gally spat, anger building within him and silencing the crowd. Tasha felt herself become more agitated as he moved closer to Newt, "But one thing I know about the maze is that you do not-" His angry rant was cut short by the low sound of a foghorn, or, something equivalent. The Greenie looked confused, but a wave of icy fear washed through Tasha, her gaze, along with the rest of the Gladers', turning to the door, to the direction of the noise. Tasha bounced to her feet as soon as Newt was poised to run, limping through the doors with the rest of the Glade hot on his heels. She was one of the first few out of the door, running towards the box. It wasn't meant to come up. This wasn't meant to happen. The fear from the day before had come back in full force, and she couldn't shake it. Something was different. Something was changing.
Newt and Gally were the first to the box, closely followed by Tasha, the two of them pulling open the box with a grunt. Newt jumped into the box, peering down at the new Greenie, his confusion mirroring that of his fellow Gladers.
"What do you see, Newt?" Asked on of them. Tasha waited, heart racing. Everything was changing and she just wanted it to stop!
Newt's words stilled all of her thoughts and made Tasha want to cry. "It's a girl." He told them, disbelief plain as day on his face. Frypan and some others stepped back, uncertain of what the girl wanted. She was unconscious and terrifyingly beautiful, with long, dark hair and pale skin. "I think she's dead." His voice is quiet, as if frightened to wake the corpse before him, looking up at the surrounding Gladers. No-one usually turned up unconscious. Something was so very different about this girl that it made the whole group uneasy.
"What's in her hand?" Gally asked, spotting the thing crumpled in the girl's fist. Newt knelt carefully beside her and edged the scrap of paper from her cool grasp and unfolded it. He read it, before his gaze turned skywards, towards the others.
"She's the last one… ever." He read, his face creased into a look of confusion and skepticism. "What the hell does that mean?" The girl suddenly sat bolt upright, gasping as if she had just surfaced above a murky lake after being held under for far too long, and locked eyes with the other Greenie.
She looked scared and confused, understandably, gasping out a single word, before her breathing eased and she fell back, unconscious once more.
"Thomas."