Hello there fellow Gladers, guess what I saw last week ... SCORCH TRIALS! OMG, it was good. So good that I can't even put it into words. But, much of the plot line was changed from the book, which was sad.

Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of three personal favourites I have out of this book (the other two being chapter seventeen and chapter nine). It was a bit of a gamble some of the stuff, but hey-ho, its fanfic, anything can happen.

I've been enjoying all the comments I've received, they really do make my day. Send me one, good or bad, brighten my day, I don't care. It shows that people are at least engaging with it.

I've so far updated to chapter nine, a few minor changes, nothing big.

See ya next time,

queenofthetear x

Chapter Twenty-Three

The difference is this. Pain is a gift. Without the capacity for pain, we can't feel the hurt we inflict. ~The Doctor

"We gotta get back," Thomas wheezed as we turned another corner of the Maze. "Gotta get Alby off the wall." Seeing the look of confusion on our faces, Thomas quickly explained what he'd done with the ropes of ivy. Which in a way was similar to what I had done. Minus one extra to worry about.

Minho looked down, his eyes gloomy. "No way he's still alive."

"How do you know? Come on, faster." His pace hastened in step as he refused to believe what might be the truth. Minho matched his, their steps becoming longer then what I was able to take. I didn't complain, though. I didn't want to stop our chance of getting back and potentially saving Alby from death.

"Because no one's ever made it ..." Minho trailed off, and I knew what he was thinking.

"That's because they've always been killed by the Grievers by the time you found them. Alby was only stuck with one of those needles, right?" Thomas interrogated, shifting my arm round his neck.

"I don't know, I guess this has never happened before. A few guys have been stung by the needles during the day. And those are the ones who got the Serum and went through the Changing. The poor shanks who got stuck out in the Maze all night weren't found until later – days later, sometimes, if at all. And all of them were killed in ways you don't wanna hear about."

I shuddered at the thought.

"After what we went through, I think I can imagine."

"What happened in the Maze for you?" I asked, curious as to why Alby was stuck up a wall. They told me everything, but by flashes of looks between them, some of the story was ... how to I put it ... fabricated to hide certain actions to impress the girl. We turned yet another corner, our pace picking up, still not complaining. Thomas surprised me slightly through the Maze, he leaned into corners before Minho showed the way, it was as if he knew where he was going, like the runner.

"Okay – the Serum," Thomas said. "I've heard it a couple of times now. What is it? And where does it come from?"

"Just what it sounds like, shank. It's a serum. The Grief Serum."

Thomas let out a strained laugh that vibrated through my arm and down my body. The slight movements of his body made my ankle hurt even more. His vibrations set off an intense pain that was already rising up. I tried to retain a straight face throughout, but a small grimace did escape. And it was enough to gain worried looks from both sides.

"I think we should stop," Minho said, slowing down.

"No, no," my voice reacted, my head shaking. "Keep going, don't worry about me."

"But you're as white as a–"

"Go!" I snapped, startling them both into moving again. The pace of our walking wasn't as fast as it was before, but we were still making good time.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, our feet pounding the concrete floor of the Maze in time with one another, Thomas continued his firing round of questions. "Just when I think I've learned everything about this stupid place." He mumbled to himself, a tone of irritation lacing its way in. "Why is it called that, the Grief Serum? And why are Grievers called, well, Grievers?"

My head turned to Minho, expecting a good answer for this constant tennis match I was playing between the two. "This better be good," I added in, as we both waited for Minho to give a long explanation of all things that happened here. Not the crash-course one that Chuck had given on the day I woke up.

He explained as we continued through the endless turns of the Maze, no one really leading the way anymore. "I don't know where we got the names from, but the Serum comes from the Creators. It's with the supplies in the Box every week, always has been. Not sure if it's a medicine or an antidote, but it's already inside a syringe, ready to use. Stick the sucker in someone who's been stung and it saves 'em. They go through the Changing – which sucks – but after that, they're healed."

A minute or two passed in silence as Thomas and I both tried to process the information that was given to us; we made a couple of more turns. I wondered about the Changing, and what it all meant. And for some reason, I couldn't help thinking about the boy that had died because of it, Ben. The way that his head snapped left and his body slumped to the ground.

"Weird, though," Minho finally continued. "This has never been talked about before. If he's still alive, there's really no reason to think Alby can't be saved by the Serum. Somehow, it's in our klunk heads that once the Doors closed, you were done. I gotta see this hanging-on-the-wall thing myself."

We kept walking, Minho weirdly happier than he had been a few moments ago, but something didn't seem right with Thomas. His body was all tense up with each step we took.

"Alright, Thomas?" I asked, sensing that there was something that he needed to get off his chest.

"What if another Griever got Alby after I diverted the one chasing me?"

I looked over at him with a blank expression on my face, Minho possibly the same.

"Let's hurry then," Thomas said.

Our steps hastened, trying to will our bodies to move faster than they already had been. It was no use, they hurt too much from spending a night in the Maze and yearned for a good long rest in a comfortable bed. After a few turns later, we settled into a slow walk, to the relief of my ankle. My head started to bow with tiredness, swaying in time with the steps. I couldn't focus for much longer, and for the briefest of moments my eyes shut tight, not allowing a crack of light through them.

"Hey, Clarke." I grunted in response, letting my eyes peek open. "Not time to sleep just yet. Hang on for a few more minutes."

I willed myself to open them, to try and stay awake for a few minutes like I was told. But, I just couldn't do it, no matter how much brain power I put into it. I was sleep deprived badly, and it was now catching up to me like a sneaky little demon that keeps pounding on my head. Because, I also have a splitting headache. Pain radiated out of me, churning my insides to the point where just about everything hurt.

Noises could be heard from around the next corner of the Maze, gradually getting louder with every step that we took. I felt my body tense up, my muscles tightening with the danger lurking round the corner. I wasn't fully aware that we had made it back, all I knew was the pain and the movement. Nothing else.

The closer we got to the noises, the more my body readied itself to jump and the sound of danger. I tried to wriggle my arm from Minho's shoulder to grab the screwdriver in my pocket. However, he only gripped tighter and whispered a few words of comfort in my ears.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, not letting go of my arm. "We're back."

At the sound of this, my eyes snapped open to reveal the opening of the West Doors towering over us. A group of Gladers had made camp on this side, looking to see if the three would return. An eruption of gasps and mummers of confusion circled around the group of Gladers, some shouting for others to come see the miracle before them. For a moment, I felt the weight of all the pain lift from my shoulders and the blackness return, letting the world slip from under my feet. I stumbled into Thomas's side, my good leg knocking my bad. I cried out in pain, no longer suppressing the urge to keep quiet. I collapsed onto Thomas's shoulder, bringing Minho along with me. There was no strength left in my body to move any further. I was surprised with myself that I was able to get this far without any more serious damage.

"It's okay. It's okay." Thomas repeated, trying to help Minho stand while he took all of my weight. A second later, we were once again back in our same positions, now shuffling towards safety. More Gladers had now turned up at the entrance, pointing at the three miracles that should be dead.

A few of them had broken away from the group once they had heard me cry out in pain, rushing over to help us.

I felt the lightheaded feeling again, the world being pulled from beneath me. I stumbled once more, my legs knocking against one another. Too weak to hold any more, Minho let my arm slip from his grasp as he collapsed beside me, his body crashing to the floor. Thomas's knees buckled from the weight of trying to hold me. With a quick reaction, he shoved my weak body as hard as he could away from his collapsing, before he too was on the ground, exhausted. I stumbled away from him, landing heavily on my broken ankle. The world narrowed around me, like it had done the first time I heard that snap. All I could feel was the agony of the pain, the searing rods that shot up and down. I was sure that I was going to black out. It would have been a welcome if I had.

I watched as the walls of the Maze moved further and further back from me, the world spinning too fast for me to catch it. I was flying for sure, my body so light that the wind rushed by me to keep me afloat.

I expected to hit the floor in a crumbled mess, the pain to flare up even further. But, two strong arms grabbed me at the last second and held me there. My skin crawled and I glanced down at my hands, noticing that my hair was standing up on end. The world around me blurred, and all I could focus on was to stay awake and stay conscious. My skin drained of colour into a deathly pale, the blood rushing away from my veins. My head drooped and spun as I tried to force my body to push away the darkness. Nonetheless, it only kept creeping up, slowly at first, and then at full force. The two strong arms around me tightened their grip and shook my body softly, trying to stop me from going into the darkness.

"Don't stare into the shadows," I muttered to myself, the reason behind it unknown. Before I could understand the peculiar sentence, I let myself slip away. I was too tired to hold on any longer, too tired to force my body to stay awake. I let my head relax back, allowing it to fall behind me as I went into a deep soundless sleep that I so desperately needed. I could hear whispers of shouts as I finally let go of the reality around me.

After a few times of passing out, you would think that I would have gotten used to it. The pulling sensation of being led into nothingness. Sleep is not usually the best way to describe it. I forget every time I delve into that experience is going to be the same. A memory sometimes pops back in to haunt me, but not this time. No, this time all I could feel was the empty coldness. It was as if the dreams had run away from this coldness, the fear too scary for even them.

I was just there, in an empty cold that filled every part of my body, seeping into the small cracks that marked me. The cold didn't mask the pain. I could still feel that creeping, menacing rods that travelled up and down, piercing in the same spot each time. I wished the cold would numb the pain, or at least dull it down so it didn't burn so much.

My eyes fluttered open, instantly blinded by the harsh light that crept into the room. I rose my hand to cover my face, my arms aching from stiffness at the sudden movement to block out the light. I winced slightly as I recalled the events of what happened this morning, a few hours ago. It can't be the same day, right?

I heaved my head from the pillow, making sure that I didn't trigger any other pain. My neck, well it was stiff, but didn't hurt as bad as the rest of my body did. My head pounded, brewing a headache that I was surely going to hate.

Peering round the room, a sense of déjà vu hit me. I was not lying in my own bed, I was in the same one that I had woken in first time round. Same bed, same creaking noise, same table with a bowl of water on it. All of it was unchanged.

"This is freaky," I said, propping myself onto my elbows.

The only difference to this room was that two chairs had been dragged in, with a wrinkled sheet lying over the top of one of them, like someone had been using it recently.

All of a sudden, the door on the opposite door swung open and Jeff walked in with a glass of water in his hand.

"You're up!" Jeff exclaimed, the water from the glass spilling over the sides from him jumping in surprise.

"How long was I out for?" I asked him, curious to know the length for this time round.

"The Walls closed a half an hour ago so … all day I suppose." Jeff replied with a smile, standing beside my bed, the glass of water on the table.

He placed one hand on my shoulder then one on my back, gently helping me sit up. Once sat up, Jeff lifted my pillow up so that I could shuffle back and rest on it.

"What's the sitch?" I sadly said, knowing full well that there was no good news coming from this.

"Well, you were beaten up pretty badly when they bought you in here. Scrapes and bruises are everywhere, but I could handle them. It's just … well …" He motioned to my leg. More specially my ankle. "Clean break, I think. Ya won't be walkin' on it for a while. But to get round, someone is makin' a pair of crutches for you."

I lifted the bed sheets to reveal a thick white bandage covering my leg at least ten times. It seemed hard to touch when I leant to inspect it.

"Your makeshift cast was quite impressive really. Wouldn't have thought to do that. Where did you get the supports?"

"Griever legs," I said uneasily, not too sure if I still allowed to say that type of thing.

"Griever what?" Jeff stuttered back, disbelief smacking him across the face.

I smiled weakly and shrugged my shoulders. Jeff expected me to continue, but I just stayed quite, not wanting to say anything more.

"Okay, well you need anythin' just shout." Jeff said as he turned on his heel and started to make his way out of the room. "I'll grab somethin' for the pain. I'll be a few ticks. Oh, and you have a visitor."

He opened the door and left as he quickly appeared, taking no time to close it behind him. The room fell silent once more, leaving me to the emptiness that haunted my chilling bones.

As someone whose hair is a disaster every day, my hands reacted by themselves playing with the knotted tips of my ratted hair. From falling through a nest of vines and dragging myself across a Maze, my hair decided to have a whale of a time twisting and turning around on itself. In an angry huff, I gathered all my hair as best as I could in a ponytail, taking a strip of bandage that I had noticed lying on the table. With all the hair out of my face, somehow I could see the world clearly. No longer did I look through a haze of hair in my face. I was going to do this more often.

Fixing the strip of bandage holding up my ponytail, I heard the door to the room creak open slowly, the hinges dragging out the sound. My eyes drifted up towards the figure that slowly squeezed their way into the room, not really focusing on the detail but more of trying to tame my mane of a hair. All thoughts stopped when my eyes fell on the boy that stood in the doorway. My heart skipped a beat and flipped at the sight of him standing there in the doorway. Those dark brown eyes delving into mine with emotion so raw I felt like I would end up drowning from it. Those pale-tinged lips slightly parted, his breath slow but firm. Pain filled his eyes from staring at me, that I could only slowly drop my hands from sorting my hair.

"Are you alright?" Newt asked.

"Fine," I answered. "Are you?"

"Yeah." Newt softly replied.

"Cool." I said awkwardly.

A thick silence filled the air between us; the only sounds heard were the soft noises of Gladers finishing their work for the day. I wanted to spill everything out there and then. Wreak havoc to everyone. Instead, I held my tongue.

"Did you get Alby down alright?" I asked, trying to make a conversation.

"Yeah, we got him down," Newt sighed. "Thomas did quite a job of getting' him up there. We had trouble getting' him down. Clint's given in the Serum. He's a lucky shank if you ask me."

I gave a sigh of relief knowing that at least everyone that entered the Maze was now safe. The room fell silent again, letting the discomfort slip back in between us. We were both on opposite sides of the room. Everything was just awkward between us; it was unsettling.

"Why were you in the Maze?" Newt's voice spoke breaking the silence between us.

I tore my eyes way from staring in the corner of the room to catching the hard, cold stare of his – no warmth found within them. He purse his lips, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for a good reply to come from me.

"What?" I asked dumbfound, my heart pounding in my chest ready to explode.

"Why were you in the Maze?" Newt asked once again, annoyance creeping in.

Ah crap.

"I … It happened so quickly, I can't remember." I told him, holding back the truth as much as I could.

"But you screamed, you must know." Newt pushed, his eyebrow rising.

"I went to … no … it doesn't matter." I was about to tell him everything that happened, I needed to tell someone. I wanted to spill all of it, relay the information that I collect. But, I couldn't, that would put him at risk, and I didn't want that.

"Yeah, you went to see what?" Newt probed, his tone of voice changing.

There was a pause from my end. I couldn't make up my mind if I should tell him or not, expose the big secrets or keep him safe. "The sounds," I breathed. It was the truth.

"Sounds?"

"I don't know," I squeaked, not wanting to talk about this anymore, remembering the threat above my head.

"Fine," Newt snapped. "But what I don't get is that Minho is tellin' me that you told him that somethin' dragged you in. Is that true?"

"Yes," I say, in almost a whisper.

Silence. There it was again in the room. Awkward silence that filled the space between us.

My heart hammered against my rip-cage so loud that I thought he could hear it from over there. I needed to say something. I needed to tell him. I can't stay in silence forever.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. I dropped my gaze to watch my hands fuss around each other in nervousness.

"W-why?" Newt stuttered, unable to fathom words.

"I should have stayed, but I went in. It was stupid of me to think I could just peek at the source. Should have stayed, should have listened to the rule. I just wanted to see. I didn't want to cause any trouble. I didn't want to disappoint anyone. I didn't want to upset you." I revealed to him, putting all my thoughts into one sentence.

How could I have been so stupid! I thought.

"Clarke, listen. What's done is done, don't start beatin' yourself up about it. I'm not upset about this." Newt said softly to me.

"You aren't?" I asked, confused.

"No. I was scared, terrified even. I was terrified for you. I thought for sure that you were dead. Gone. Lifeless. I didn't want them to bring back you're body if they found it, if they found it. The others … there my brothers in arms, I've known since the blank. And that blasted Greenie, Thomas, who ran in to them. Got balls that one. But you, goin' in there when you knew the rules. That's not even the worst of it. Your scream pierced me, Clarke. I thought you had died. And when you got up to get back, I didn't know what to do. I wanted to be there with you. I didn't want you to die alone. Not in there." Newt spoke softly to me, his eyes lessening in harshness. He began to take steps towards me while he spoke his words. I sunk back down the pillow, slightly afraid of what was going on. I shifted my legs to ease out the dreaded feeling, but it only bought pain. I took a sharp breath, masking the pain of my ankle.

Your leg doesn't hurt, you hear me, it doesn't I thought. I bent my head and closed my eyes for a second, channelling out the pain.

"Clarke, is everythin' alright? Do you need any pain killers?" Newt worriedly asked.

"No, I'm fine. Please, the less it is mentioned, the less it hurts." I said.

"It?"

"Yeah, the disappointment." I pointed to the lump that was created under the sheets. "It shall not be named because it does not deserve to be acknowledged."

A small smile broke on Newt's perfect lips; he was amused at my joke. Well, it wasn't a joke. I was serious, it was a disappointment!

"I stayed by the East Door all night waitin' for just a sight of you. Just to see you. I was counting on you to return. I even hoped to hear you through the walls, to at least have something to know that you were alright. Deep down, I knew that I was acting stupid. And, I believe that you had died or had been dead for some time. Alone. I just couldn't bear it."

Newt was now sitting down on the bed, careful not to disturb my leg. His eyes never left mine, the warmth of them radiated down my body, and I felt reassured by them that he wouldn't do anything … outrageous.

"I know I'm being selfish. I know that you were scared. Gods, I don't think scared even covers it. It's … it's just that I couldn't lose you. I gave up hope on you." Newt cried, his bottom lips trembling in sadness. "I told Chuck and a few others that you wouldn't come back. I gave up on you!" Newt broke down there and then. His eyes welled up with tears that trickled down his face. He looked away from and buried his head into his hands and sobbed.

I was shocked. The boy that seemed to never break, broke. Ignoring the pain that swelled around me, I rose from my sitting position and put my arms around the crying boy. I drew the bandage out of my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders again. Gently, I pulled Newt's hands away from his face and wiped away the tears that marked his cheeks. "Don't cry. Don't be sad. I'm fine, I came back. A little broken maybe, but I did."

"But, I gave up hope on you." Newt whimpered.

"Hope, no you didn't give that up. You were scared and frightened. But you never gave up hope. If you gave up hope, I wouldn't be here. I was scared yes, but I had courage. Courage isn't just about being scared, you know. It's being scared, and doing what you have to do anyway. Shh, please don't cry."

"Wise words, Sun Princess," he murmured.

And then Newt kissed me.

Holding my hand against his chest, his other hand sliding across my neck, his touch feathery soft turning everything inside me to rubber. It probably seemed peaceful from the outside world, but my insides were rioting. Something strange happened in my chest, like my heart breaking open and spilling heat into my body, tingling through my limbs. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples that lingered on his mouth. I wound my hands into his hair, as I'd wanted to do since the first time I'd seen him. His golden hair curled around my fingers, silky and fine. My heart hammered in my body, and there was burning sensation that electrified every one of my nerve endings. I gasped in pain and broke away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Newt spluttered, shifting away from my leg and making a mess of things.

"Ow, ow. Newt stop moving, you're only making it worse!" I giggled, grabbing his shoulders and holding him still. "There, the pain has stopped now."

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, looking down at his fumbling hands. "I didn't mean t–"

"It's fine, no harm done." I reassured him.

I couldn't help but smile at him. And once a smile marked my face, he smiled back. We both stared at each other for a few seconds, smiles on our faces, before we erupted into fits of laughter like crazy people.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Newt admitted, his smile slightly fading. "Ever since I first saw you. You caused trouble, and that was fun."

I opened my mouth to reply when I was interrupted by a loud knock that echoed across the room, making us both jump.

"Up and outta. Visitn' time is up!" Jeff cheerily said as he swung open the door and sailed in. He swiftly placed a bottle of pills by my bed and stood waiting for Newt to leave, his arms crossed.

"Give me one more minute," Newt said to the Med-jack. Jeff crossed his arms and waited there by the table. "Alone Jeff. Go see if Alby is okay."

"Fine," he huffed, and he swooped out the room as fast as he entered. Shutting the door behind him.

Newt turned to face me again, his eyes wavering over my face. He lifted his hand and brushed a stray piece of hair from my face, putting it behind my ear. His fingers lingered a moment longer behind my ear, before he lightly brushed them against the side of my jawline. Electrifying twinges erupted from his soft touch, my nerve endings exploding into flames. His brown eyes twinkled in the fading sunlight, illuminating with a happiness that seemed to not have been there before.

Newt's hands cupped the sides of my face, his eyes delving into mine, chipping away the exterior of me until there was nothing left but vulnerability.

"I've always marvelled at how you've been able to cope here," Newt breathed. "You truly are extraordinary in every way possible."

"Well," I began, "that's a bit of an over statement. Don't ya think?"

"Why would you ever think that?" Newt asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "You've held up your own in this goddamn place. Let all the bad stuff slide past, like it's not even botherin' you. And, you managed to survive a night in the Maze when no other could. With a broken ankle. That's pretty extraordinary to me."

"I guess," I said, a red blush filling my checks.

"At least we agree on something," Newt cheerfully replied, his face beaming with a toothy grin. He leaned in once more to hastily kiss me, both trying to savour the moment that would surely be interrupted again.

"I would kiss you for longer," Newt spoke, his lips still firmly pressed to mine. "But, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stop. And we can't go round scarin' Jeff now."

He pulled back at the same time that Jeff opened the door to once again demand that he would leave the room. Newt agreed, and quickly was ushered out, the door slamming behind him.

"One things for sure," Jeff started, walking over to the side of my bed, eyeing the creases on the sheets. "He's much happier now then he was twenty minutes ago."