near miss

noun: an unplanned event that did not result in injury, illness, or damage - but had the potential to do so. (Wikipedia, 2015)


Minho was convinced it had been a dream. It had to be. Alex had admitted to him that she had never done it with anyone before. For her first time to turn out that great, he thought it had to be wishful thinking.

He cracked one eye open and realized that he was in the Berg. The inky darkness of the sky from outside meant it was either very late at night or it was the wee hours of the morning. He was naked. So was Alex. He felt her before he saw her, curled up on his side with her arm draped lazily over his chest. He shifted slightly so he could see her sleeping form. And as he did, he smiled. It happened. It was real.

Alex protested sleepily as Minho hauled her on top of him. The sudden movement startled her and his racing heart pounded heavily against her cheek. She lifted her head and looked at him.

"What's the matter?" she whispered. He shook his head in response and kissed the tip of her nose while discreetly swallowing the lump in his throat. She shrugged and rested her head back on his chest, hugging him tightly in an attempt to calm him down. She knew he hated talking about feelings so she didn't push him. If something came to his mind which bothered him enough to wake him up, the best she could do was to let him know that she was there. She got his back.

"I can't believe I almost let this go."

It was a candid confession, a whispered glimpse of Minho being vulnerable.

"I'm glad you didn't."

She sighed with relief as she felt strong arms envelope her into a warm hug. Minho buried his face on the crown of her head, inhaling her scent. Almost immediately his heartbeat slowed down.

"Me too."


He found out by accident. It was a few months after that night they shared in the Berg. He had just finished a busy day in the field when he spotted Brenda by the deep well, nursing his godchild. He approached the two for a quick chat when the village nurse told him something very curious. Alex had been visiting the sick room a lot. For weeks now, she had been constantly getting headaches and dizzy spells. Brenda had a feeling that Minho knew nothing of this. "So I'm telling you now," she finished. "Please go talk to her."

There was something she wasn't telling him. He could tell by the way the new mother refused to meet his gaze.

"What else do you know, Brenda?" he asked, flinching visibly at the way his insides twisted with concern.

"Like I said, go and talk to her," she replied. Little Chuck finished nursing and turned to look up at Minho. Despite the frown on his face, the baby giggled excitedly at him.

He found her in the room that she still shared with Millie, the room where sex was off-limits because she absolutely refused to let her pseudo little brother go anywhere near any place where they did the deed. Her back was facing him. Her hands were planted on the windowsill while her back was hunched over. Her head hung low. Minho approached her cautiously.

"You're really in there, aren't you?" she asked in a low voice. The Runner stopped in his tracks thinking she had noticed him. Alex didn't turn to look his way. Instead, she began to rub circles on her belly. "I guess the question now is how do we tell your father?"

A loud thud from behind caused her to jump in surprise. She quickly looked back and found Minho on the floor with the same shocked expression she was wearing.

"Minho, what the-!"

"My knees gave way," he explained numbly. "I...what did you say?" He looked up at her with round eyes and his mouth hanging open.

"I think you heard me well enough."

She had been terrified when Brenda first suggested to her the probable cause of her morning spells. That fear grew exponentially when she realized that her friend could be right. The last time she had been tortured by her monthly visitor had been days prior to the wedding. On top of that, she could swear that her body was changing right before her very eyes. Her chest was bigger than ever.

Minho let out an unusually high-pitched squeak as Alex knelt in front of him. At that moment, she realized that while her fears made her restless, his rendered him paralyzed. She almost felt sorry for him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He felt betrayed. How could Brenda know before him?

Alex sighed and took his shaking hands into hers. "I wanted to wait one more month to be absolutely sure," she explained. "Though when I think about it, I guess I got scared. I didn't know how to tell you."

Minho looked up at her, confused. He pulled away. "I hate it when you talk like that. Just say it to my face whichever way you want. It's just me, Alex. Geez." To add to his confusion, Alex sat on the floor and burst out laughing.

"What the shuck is so funny?" he spat, clearly irritated.

When her laughter subsided, Alex replied in between chuckles, "Nothing. It just that...the last time you told me that, I got pregnant."

And then she was laughing again. Minho could only stare at her, the mother of his child, laughing as if she just heard the funniest joke of all time.

'The mother of his child,' he repeated to himself. 'His child.'

Minho lost it. It was a temporary insanity of the most blissful kind. He remembered screaming at the top of his lungs. He remembered scooping the petite girl and spinning the two of them around and around until he remembered again that she was pregnant, after which he put her down and apologized profusely. He remembered kissing ever inch of her face, the relief flooding her green eyes when she realized that he took the news better than she had anticipated.

"Say it again," he said when the mania died down and they were slow dancing to the beat of their ecstatic hearts.

"You're going to be a dad," Alex repeated for the fifth time. "Get over it."

"How does that work?"

"I dunno. We'll figure it out."

"I have to tell Thomas." Minho smiled widely. He couldn't wait to see the look on his friend's face once he heard that one of the future little Minhos he had feared in the past was only months away from being born.

"And Bill," Alex added. "We just turned him into a grandpa. He deserves a memo." She looked up at him. "Are you scared?"

He was but he didn't want to admit it. So he threw the question back at her. "Are you?"

Alex nodded. They didn't know the first thing about being parents. WICKED probably thought they wouldn't live long enough to bear children of their own and hadn't bothered with the topic.

"Well we did survive the Trials didn't we?" he pointed out. "I think one baby will be a piece of cake."

Alex shuddered. She remembered Minho when they were younger and a sense of deja vu settled at the pit of her stomach. "I hope you're right."

Her anxiety dulled down when the Runner rested his forehead against hers. And he whispered those same words from months ago which never failed to make her heart swell.

"I can't believe I almost let this go."


Throughout the pregnancy, Alex constantly fought the fear of the unknown. She feared the pain of childbirth. She feared that another attack might happen which could cause harm to the unborn baby. Most of all, she feared being a failure of a mother.

"I could barely take care of myself sometimes. How could I possibly raise this child?" It was a line that Minho often heard her say, sometimes in front of Brenda or Bill, other times in the confines of his dimly-lit bedroom. No amount of encouragement could make her think otherwise and so he decided that the best thing to do was to be with her through every anxiety-ridden day until the baby decided to pop out. He also decided to keep mum about his own insecurities. He didn't tell her about the nights when he would wake up with a sense of doom in his guts, mulling over the same sense of inadequacy that Alex was battling with.

He didn't know if he had what it took to be a good father. He often compared himself to Thomas, who took on the role with natural ease since the day Chuck was born. All he saw were the things he couldn't do. He could never change a diaper with a straight face. He could never be gentle enough to rock a baby to sleep. He wasn't too sure whether he could survive the sleepless nights. And God help his potty mouth. He couldn't count the number of times Brenda smacked him upside the head for letting a profanity or two slip in front of a very attentive infant. It didn't take long for him to convince himself that fatherhood may not be his forte. So instead he braced himself for the ugly disaster called bad parenting that was soon to come. This mindset lasted until early on Alex's third trimester.

Minho was awakened by a persistent poking on his side. At first he thought it was the pregnant girl playing tricks on him. When he realized that she was in deep sleep, he looked down and noticed that her shirt had ridden up, exposing her swollen belly where the poking came from. It wasn't Alex. It was the baby.

"Holy shit," Minho whispered. Time and again she told him about feeling the little shank kicking inside her. But whenever he placed a hand on her to feel it, it never came.

"Maybe it's gas," he often joked.

He placed his hand flat on Alex's baby bump, bracing himself for another poke. What came next was almost hard enough to be a high five.

'That was definitely not gas,' he thought. He moved his hand on another part of Alex's belly, trying to imagine where the baby's head was. To his amusement, he felt a strong tap against his palm once again. On and on it went. Wherever he placed his hand, the baby would shift within the sleeping girl and tapped it. By then Minho was already smiling widely in the dark. Careful so was not to wake Alex up, he slid down the bed until he was facing her enlarged belly. He tapped the smooth sphere with his index finger.

"Hey shank," he said. "D'you hear me in there?"

The baby grew still.

"Do me a favor will you? Go easy on me and Alexandria when you come out. She's already freaking out as we speak. And don't tell her this but so am I. Lucky for you, you're going to have an excellent mother. She doesn't believe me when I say it but...I know her well enough. She'll do better than me, that's for sure."

The reply he got was of utter silence. The taps were gone. Above him, Alex sighed in her sleep.

"Look, I will probably suck at being a dad. Maybe I'll forget to feed you every once in a while. Maybe I'll hand you a cup of the good stuff by accident. I could screw up a million and one daddy-things, whatever they are, but know this. I'll never drop you on your head. I will sweat blood first before I would even allow you to crawl into a running Berg unattended. I'll be right here whenever you need me, doesn't matter how old you are by then. Sounds cheesy and shuck but it's true. I promise."

Minho rolled his eyes in disbelief. A part of him felt silly for talking to a semi-animate belly.

"Anyway, whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm glad you came. If you're anything like your mom then you'll be just fine."

He placed his hand back on Alex's belly. Sure enough, he got another high five.

"I can't believe I almost let this go," he whispered. He felt fingers raking through his hair. He looked up and saw the green-eyed girl smiling down at him. Heat rushed into his cheeks.

"How much did you hear?" he queried.

"Enough," she replied. "You'll be a decent dad, Min. I think you already are."


Minho will never forget those first few minutes after his son was born. Him and the Gladers were huddled in one corner of the clinic when the newborn's cries broke the tense silence that surrounded them. Not long after, Brenda emerged from one of the rooms and handed him a small bundle wrapped in warm, clean linen.

It was a boy.

One by one the Gladers' heads popped up beside him. Thomas. Frypan. Clint. Gally. Leo. The young men formed a circle as they looked down at the infant on Minho's arms.

"Holy shuck," Gally gasped.

"How is that possible?" Clint wondered.

The baby yawned and made a face, bringing out deep lines on the round parts of his cheeks. Dimples. Minho smiled widely as he gently rocked the little thing, trying to do it the way he saw Thomas did it whenever Chuck got fussy. Dark, almond-shaped eyes fluttered open and stared at the Gladers one by one. Thomas looked at Minho then back at the baby.

"Wow shank, that's...that's you." He was a father too. And while Chuck got many of his features from him, their resemblance were nowhere near as bizarre as this newborn's were with Minho's.

"I know. Pretty neat, isn't it?"

His chest burst with pride when he felt the baby kick underneath his makeshift clothes. Despite his size, he had strong legs. 'Legs of a Runner,' he thought. Without a doubt, this was his son, his flesh and blood. It hurt him to think about how he almost missed this moment, how all that he had went so close to slipping through his fingers. This time he didn't say it out loud. He couldn't believe he almost let this go.

Out of curiosity, Frypan pulled down the cloth covering Minho's doppelganger's head and 'oohed' at the shock of jet black hair that greeted him.

"Don't get me wrong. He looks cute but I'm scared already," he said.

Gally nodded in agreement. "And we thought one Minho was a handful."

"Well, he is still part Alex," Leo pointed out. "Who knows, maybe he got his temper from his mom."

All the boys, including the baby's father, glared daggers at him.

"Seriously?" Clint asked. "And how is that any better?"

The Keeper of the Guards thought long and hard. "You know what? I take it back. This one's all Minho. All the way."


Bill and Jorge often warned him about the terrible twos. At fourteen months, he concluded that his son decided to start early.

One afternoon, Thomas spotted the dark-haired boy squatting beside the main road. He approached him out of curiosity.

"Minho," he called out. "What's up?"

Minho only nodded in reply. Thomas followed his gaze and realized that he was eyeing the front door of the cabin that he shared with Alex. Parental instincts immediately clued him in on what was wrong with the picture.

"Did Millie forget to lock the door?" He heard that the boy often babysat for Minho and Alex when the couple had to work on the same days. Surely he knew better than to leave the front door wide open.

"Nope," the Lead Navigator replied. "It was locked a minute ago."

"So what happened?"

As if to answer Thomas' question, a pair of pint-sized sandals flew out of the door. It was followed by a chubby leg which struggled to go over the knee-high barricade that Minho installed in their door frame many months ago. The toddler's father shook his head in disbelief.

"Um, you're kid's breaking out." Leave it to Thomas to state the obvious. "I thought you changed the locks."

"I did. Last night," Minho replied through gritted teeth. When it became apparent that the generic door latch wasn't enough to stop their little escape artist, he decided to build a new one with a more complicated locking mechanism. It did a better job at locking Alex in than keeping the little boy from heading out.

"You're gonna need Gally's help with this one."

"No shit."

Less than a minute later, Minho's mini-me had scaled the barricade and had landed one the cabin's front porch with a dull thud. Almond eyes scanned the perimeter. The little boy checked if anybody noticed his sloppy exit before toddling after his sandals.

"Well, at least he knows which sandal goes to what foot," Thomas pointed out. Minho gave him a pointed look. "Thanks, I guess."

"Don't you think we should stop him before he gets any further?" By then, the toddler was slowly going down the porch's steps, cautiously going backwards and feeling each tread with his foot. It didn't take long before he reached the ground and his hard-earned freedom.

"Nah," Minho replied. "He's already out. Might as well have a bit of fun while we try to catch the squirt."

He stood up and barked before his son could take one step forward. "NEWTON!"

The little boy's head snapped at his direction. His eyes grew round in surprise. As soon as he saw his father slow jogging his way, he let out a high-pitched shriek and ran at the opposite direction. Every once in a while, he would look back and laugh when he saw "Dad" gaining speed on him.

"You're gonna have to run faster than that little shank," Minho warned jokingly. "I'm right behind you!"

Newton babbled excitedly and pushed himself to speed up. He kept on looking back at his father that he failed to see a pair of arms waiting for him down the road until he ran right into them.

"Gotcha!"

Alex lifted the toddler off his feet as he squealed and kicked gleefully. She planted a raspberry on his chubby cheek.

"Don't think you can outsmart your mom just yet," she said, to which Newton replied with his own wet raspberry.

"Nice catch," Minho complimented her before planting a full kiss on his wife's lips. Alex smiled and bounced the toddler on her arms.

"Listen Min, you're a genius and all but we're gonna need Gally's help to keep this little guy in the house for at least half an hour." She waved at Millie from across the road who was still dumbfounded as to how Newton ended up in Alex's arms three cabins away. He could swear the toddler was asleep in his crib not ten minutes ago.

"Oh I know we do," Minho replied, ruffling his son's thick dark hair. "A bit too early to practice sneaking out, isn't it?"

The toddler started to fuss and tried to propel himself out of his mother's arms.

"Whoa. Slow down cowboy!" Alex exclaimed, trying to calm the fidgety boy. "What's wrong? What is it, bub?"

"Fly. Fly," he said repeatedly as he stretched his arms over his head. Minho wasn't paying attention.

"You go ahead," Minho instructed Alex. "This guy looks hungry. I'll go find the shuckface somewhere then I'll meet you at dinner. Good that?" He kissed her one last time before heading out to find the Keeper of the Builders.

"Dada, fly!"

The dark-haired young man nearly tripped over his own foot. He turned to look at the toddler, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks straining to stop the goofy smile which threatened to take over his face. "What did you just say?"

"Dada," Alex replied, grinning excitedly. "Min, I think that's you!"

Newton called everyone 'Mama'. Alex was 'Mama'. Minho was 'Mama'. Brenda was 'Mama'. A couple of months after he uttered his first word, even Jorge and Frypan were added in the toddler's extensive list of Mamas. Minho narrowed his eyes on him. "You're on to something, aren't you squirt?"

"Dada?" his son said again, arms still stretched over his head. He wore a smile of someone who knew he was about to get his way. "Fly fly."

In a blink of an eye, Minho took the child from his mother's arms and tossed him up in the air, catching him effortlessly before he hit the ground and before the words "careful" left Alex's lips. Newton's laughter was contagious. And despite the burn on his arms, it urged Minho to keep on tossing him up, each throw higher than the one before it. 'Just one more time,' he told himself every time his son was airborne. Then he would catch him, laughing and kicking with pure glee and he just had to do it one more time. It was their own father-and-son thing, something Minho knew wouldn't last forever. And so he planned to enjoy it while he still could.

"I don't know what your mother is feeding you but you are getting heavy," he said as he held the young boy out at arm's length. Newton thanked him for the tosses by squeezing his nose. Like any other fickle-minded kid his age, he then decided he has had enough and wriggled out of his father's arms. Once on the ground, he ran to the other side of the pathway where little Chuck stood, holding Brenda's hand. The two greeted each other with a series of babbles, a secret language only they understood. Minho's gaze locked on to the little boy's cloth diaper, which bounced slightly with every step he took.

"How long do you think can we convince him to keep on wearing those things?" he asked. While makeshift diapers took little to no time to get, finding decent, child-sized clothes were a nightmare. Alex gave him a sideway glance.

"You are going to find a good pair of pants for my son, shank. Aren't you?"

The almond-eyed boy chuckled and hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I love it when you go mommy-mode on me," he whispered before discreetly nipping at her earlobe.

"Are you trying to get me pregnant again?" she joked.

"Alby's head, no! Just trying to get lucky tonight."

"Ah. Thought so." She kissed him again before training her gaze back at the two toddlers running around Brenda. The nurse rolled her eyes at her and went back to act as referee for the two rowdy boys.

It still amazed Alex how her and Minho managed to bring another human being into the world. In her mind they were still the same teenagers who stole kisses from each other in the silent nooks of WICKED's library. On top of that, their childhood wasn't exactly the ideal type. It used to fill her with dread whenever she thought about their abilities to look after a newborn baby. They seemed questionable at best.

"We're not too bad as parents," Minho said, as though reading her mind. "Newton's alright. He's smart and semi-potty-trained. A bit cheekier than I anticipated though."

"Like his dad."

"But surprisingly kind. Like his mom. What can I say, Alexandria? I make good babies."

"Jesus Christ, Minho!" Her husband's ridiculous claim never failed to make her cringe. And he enjoyed pointing that out to her every chance he got.

Minho wouldn't dare say it out loud. But when he thought about it, he was glad that WICKED happened. He couldn't remember how he ended up with the cold-hearted organization to begin with but at that point in his life, he couldn't care less. If some divine being gave him a chance to walk away from all that pain, he would've flipped it off and told it to stick it somewhere. WICKED may had been the source of his misery but it was also what gave him Alex and, eventually, Newton. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You're quiet. What are you thinking about?" Alex's question brought him out of his thoughts. He shook his head and hugged her tighter.

"Nothing, Alexandria. Just appreciating what's mine."

Minho didn't have much. But what little he did have, he planned on holding on to until his last breath. Every now and then, he made sure that Alex remembered.

This time, there was no letting go.


Author's Notes: And there you go. A quick glimpse of Minho and Alex and their life with Newton. Didn't want to go into too much details because what I planned to write about were simply these "glimpses", most of them having one thing in common: Minho regretting how he almost lost the chance to experience those moments. The last bit was simply a resolution of that regret. In its own simple way, it was his "Happily Ever After". Because he deserves it, after all I put him through. XD

It might be worth mentioning that the one song I kept listening in this one is Here With Me by Susie Suh and Robert Koch. Again, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. =)

-freedwinner28