CHAPTER 16:

She didn't know where she was and her heart pounded with the unwelcome unfamiliarity; danger surrounded here, she could feel it in her skin, in her very pores. Faintly, in the distance she could make out the tall, crumpling towers of the city and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, despite the stifling heat. They'd heard that the Scorch was the last place left, where meagre resources were available- the rumours could be wrong, but they had no choice, their city had been wiped out.

"We're here." Minho said and Adira nodded grimly.

"The Scorch." she said.

"Looks…scorched." Minho said dryly and she turned to see Minho grimacing at the flat plain that led to the large, dusty city.

"No, really? Dunno why they called it the bloody Scorch, eh?." another voice interjected sarcastically. Newt, his face protected with a makeshift mask against the virus. He'd always been more careful out of them all; the virus may be a rumour but Newt breathed "prevention is better than the cure" as his air.

Minho curled his hand around her waist comfortably, as if the position was natural, as if it had been repeated hundreds of times. Her skin swelled with warmth and she leant her head against his shoulder, her eyes heavy and contemplative as she looked at their destination. It didn't look particularly inviting.

"It's been bloody forever since we've seen another person. I'm ready to go there." Newt added enthusiastically, "Doesn't look pretty, but hey, what does?"

Minho shook his head, "It looks a little…dead. Shouldn't there be more people around?"

Adira nodded, "Something's not right. You'd think they'd be more people, more resources. It looks like what our city looked like when the sun flares hit."

Newt grinned, "Guess we'll have to find out."

Minho groaned loudly, the sound echoing through her as his chest rumbled, "I'm beat, bro. Tomorrow morning, no negotiating."

Newt looked like he wanted to disagree but he clearly couldn't wait for a rest too, "Fine. It's a day's journey, I'd say, so we'll be there tomorrow."

As they lay down, developing a watch system, Adira couldn't help but reflect on how far they'd travelled since the disastrous sun flares had hit. She remembered the day clearly; Minho, Newt and she had been playing in the caves close to their homes, underground and shielded from the deadly fires. They'd been trapped there for a while, scared eight and nine year olds, hungry, terrified and completely unaware of the wreck that their world had become. Rescued, they'd discovered all of their parents dead, Thomas gone with a note from WICKED, the world unsympathetic and rumours of a man made, dangerous virus on the loose.

Tears clouded her eyes as Thomas' bright, smiling face entered her mind. It had been hard for her. Especially since he was her twin, her other half, really. WICKED had stolen him, and she wished that he hadn't had a cold the day the sun flares hit, she wished her parents had let him come out with her to play in the caves.

"Thinking of him?"

She smiled at Minho as he lay down next to her, face staring at the stars.

"I never stop." she responded wearily. He haunted her, and she hated herself for…liking it. It ensured that she never forgot him, his bright, gap toothed smile, the love and loss.

Minho stayed quiet for a while before he started talking again, "It's been a long three years, huh? Remember how Stephen and Blondie ganged up on us? Best friends against best friends, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." she chuckled, sleep evading her at the thought of the bright happy memories they had shared once upon a time. "Every game that needed teams would always be best friends against best friends."

Her hand found Minho's and held it tightly, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. "I miss him so much, y'know? So much."

"I don't doubt it." Minho said quietly, turning over and wiping her tears away gently, "But you have us, don't you? Your childhood best friend and your brother's childhood best friend, that happens to also be your best friend. Second after me, of course."

She smiled at Minho, pressing a kiss to his cheek in gratitude before the memory faded, replaced by a clinical, surgical smell, dizzying pain and an empty hole in her mind.

"Teresa, what's going on? She's responding too much to the stimuli, her stats are way up."

"I told you this was stupid Tom. You're lucky Mrs Paige likes you, because I wouldn't have approved of putting her into the Maze at all!"

"Save the lecture Resa, what's going on with her right now?"

"The Swipe isn't working, Tom!" Teresa cried, frustrated.

"What? Why?"

"Look! All her memories are gone, except anything with Minho! The stimuli are actually working on her whenever he's involved! Their connection, bond, whatever it is, is too strong for the Swipe."

Adira heard a roar of a shout somewhere to the right of her, but Teresa ignored it dutifully.

"What do we do then?"

Silence. Adira could feel Thomas' agitation, guilt, though for what she didn't understand. The shout again, but it was cut out abruptly.

"Swipe her again."

"Are you insane? She could completely lose it! Teresa-"

"She won't."

"Tere-"

"This is on you, Thomas. I'm doing what I can." Teresa said, "She wanted to be put into the Maze and I'm doing that, so just…just stop. You always make me seem like the bad guy but-"

Thomas stayed silent, but his hand interlocked with hers, squeezing it tightly. She could place a vague familiarity to him, without knowing who he was but she could feel his worry and pain for her and she didn't mind the support.

"It's starting, Thomas."

And then there was nothing. Just blankness. A face of a cheery Asian flitted before her eyes before it was gone and the black came back. Unconsciousness slipped in and she found that she couldn't remember a single, damn thing.

Adira sat ram rod straight in bed, her head hurting and her face twisted into a frown of confusion.

What was that dream?

Sun flares, a virus, Minho and Newt, Stephen, her brother?

It didn't make sense, nothing at all. Then that second memory- Teresa and Thomas, talking about her bond with Minho? She'd always felt a deeper connection with Newt, but was it true that she'd once been closer with Minho? The warmth she felt at the simplest of touches from him only made her sad that something so precious had been stolen from her by the Swipe. It seemed plausible, that she and Minho had been best buds- they were now, anyway.

She sucked in a deep breath, as she leant against the bed in the Med place, her ribs practically healed fully. It had been a week and a bit since Gally had been stung and his erratic bouts of screaming had subsided greatly over the last day. Still, no sign of consciousness. Newt had been ensconced in the warmth of the Med place for a solid three weeks, give or take a couple days and his recovery was positive- he was ready to walk- unusual considering the magnitude of his injury and the relatively small amount of time he had taken to heal.

Her thoughts wandered again to the peculiar dream, her heart clenching as she remembered the visceral pain she had felt in the dream- losing a brother wouldn't have been easy for someone so young. The feel of Minho's hand in hers lingered and doubt crept in. Were they that close? What were they before the Maze? What would he think?

"Bad dream?"

She started , shocked to find Gally staring at the ceiling, talking normally as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't run off into the Maze and survived being stung.

"A dream." she said, surprised at the evenness of her voice, "Not a bad one…but not a good one either."

He didn't respond and she frowned, "Why did you run into the Maze, Gally? After all our rules, our work…George?"

His head snapped to her and she held his gaze levelly.

"There was a Griever and…it…it wanted me to follow it. Said the exit was there and it would show me the way, to get out."

"Gally…" she whispered, "There was no Griever. The boys were everywhere, they'd have seen it too."

He stayed quiet.

"How do you feel? We're probably going to need to hold a Gathering, heads up. I need to get Clint-"

"No." Gally said, his voice raspy and brittle. "No, wait till morning. I'm fine."

"Gal-"

"I'm fine." he paused, closing his eyes, "I saw things, Adira. Lots and lots of things. I-I don't want to ever get out of here, out of the Maze. The world outside? It's worse than anything in here, I swear it."

"We need to find a way out, Gally!" she said, resenting his sudden flip in attitude. He'd changed, it was clear- all his morals, his behaviour, the way he held himself- it had shifted into something more cumbersome, heavy, burdened.

"No!" his breathing increased, his eyes incensed, "No! Adira, you don't get it."

"Slim it." she said shortly, "Slim it and sleep, Clint will check you out in the morning."

He huffed but didn't argue, turning over and falling back asleep, leaving her worried, confused and sceptical. Tossing and turning in bed wouldn't give her answers, but her injuries didn't allow her escape from the stifling atmosphere of the Med place.

"Adira?"

She should've known. No matter how quiet you were, Newt could detect you rapidly, with ease thanks to his supersonic hearing and light sleeping habits.

"Sorry, Newt, go back to bed, it's fine."

The blonde looked like he wanted to say something, but his eyes flipped to the doorway in apparent confusion.

"Minho? Are we having a shucking midnight feast or something?"

She turned to the doorway, heart racing as she locked eyes with the Asian. A jolt resonated through her and apparently Minho too, as he lurched forward slightly, maintaining eye contact. It was like the jolt had loosened some sort of wooden board that hoarded their past away from them, letting their feelings through at once, all of a sudden with an almost unbearable intensity.

"You had the dream too?"

She nodded shakily, clutching her chest as her heart banged and the overload of emotions began to register.

"Whoa-"

Minho's eyes were blown out, as if seeing her in a changed light, the whites glowing in the dim light of the Med place as he stumbled to the edge of her bed.

"Help me stand." she muttered shakily and Minho approached her carefully.

He offered his hand and she accepted, feeling a similar jolt course through her at their contact. An intrinsic sense of affection, love, pride, longing and the feeling that one gets when being reunited with someone long lost, swept through her, with such a high magnitude that literal tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Minho looked at her and his eyes were different, softer, more open and she knew that he felt the intensity of what she was feeling.

It didn't make sense, but the overwhelming urge to keep him close pounded through her and she realised that she was feeling everything that she had felt before the Maze, before they became strangers to each other. He felt like…home. His hand in hers, so natural, so right, so perfect. Minho tightened his grip, looking partly awed and partly sad.

"Like in the Scorch." he said, his eyes searching hers as he lifted their hands up to her eye line.

"Best friends?" her voice wavered and Minho pulled her up, supporting her by the waist, smiling sadly. It was confirmed, he remembered that one, golden memory, where the world was falling around them but it was fine, it was tolerable because he had held her hand and kept her standing and she did the same for him- they had each other.

"We found each other anyway, didn't we?" Minho smirked and she nodded, enraptured by the new, strengthened feelings running through her. She pulled him forward into a hug, and unusually for him, he returned the gesture, his strong arms circling around her.

"You saw…" her voice faltered, but she spoke again, "You saw the Swipe?"

Minho's eyes dulled and an emotion flitted over them, as the shadows darkened on his face.

"I was standing outside the room. Watching through the glass."

"I heard a scream?"

He nodded darkly and she didn't ask him anything further, his face said it all.

"I don't understand why that happened." she frowned, "We kind of remembered stuff, right? Not anything important."

Minho tutted, gesturing between the both of them, "I'd say this is pretty important."

She smiled sheepishly, "I meant the Maze, Min."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his usual confident smirk still in place as he looked down at her softly, "I know, Ad."

"Do you mind explaining what the bloody hell you're both harping on about?"

Adira nearly jumped with the sudden interjection of Newt; she'd practically forgotten he'd existed, lost with this new feeling that Minho and she shared. Her past had been taken from her, but her subconscious knew Minho, forced her to befriend him firmly in the Maze and now, to have a small fragment of their previously fully concealed lives was breath-taking and strangely tragic. Those memories seemed like an alternate universe, a different life. Tainted with the deathly décor of the Maze and their ongoing, nightmarish experience in the concrete prison.

Minho turned to her, his smirk widening as he helped her sit down, pulling the sheets halfway up her torso and seating himself at the end of her bed. The story was told quickly, Newt's serious confusion morphing into rabid wonder and then changing into a more obscure expression of mischievousness and knowing. Adira didn't speak much, content with the breeze blowing and her best friends alive and well, near her.

She smiled secretly as her heart longed for another hug from a certain cocky Keeper.

"It's working! Bloody hell, I thought I was stuck on that bed for the next year and a bit!" Newt cried ecstatically, wobbling around haphazardly on his crutches near her bed.

"Careful Newt." Adira sighed, feeling like a parent chaperoning a sugar frenzied kid, "You'll fall at this rate."

Newt pouted, "I am careful, Ad, y'know that."

She rolled her eyes, smiling lightly as Newt teetered dangerously on the tip of the wooden crutches, holding him upright as he shot her a grateful grin as thanks.

"Sure, Newt."

A loud whistle broke them out of their conversation and she turned to see Minho at the doorway, his eyes immediately turning to hers. She almost gasped aloud at the sheer change that had taken place, literally overnight. For him at least, not so much for her.

She'd grown to love him as strongly as she had before the Maze and she'd grown to trust and befriend- not an easy feat considering the lack of stability in their lives. Minho, who was already naturally distrustful and the Keeper of the Runners, took friendship with a grain of salt. The Maze was his home and he knew if he were stuck outside overnight, chances were friendship wouldn't save him. He'd seen the horrors of the Maze and he knew, he knew that friendship was necessary but if you were gone, you were gone and your friends would move on and the notion…scared him. Not to mention he regularly faced immense difficulties and change and traumatic experiences that caused a fragment of trust to leave his soul- not a soul could blame him and neither could Adira.

Still, the sight of his fully unguarded eyes open to both her and Newt was disconcerting, definitely pleasant and an incredibly profound milestone in their collective journey through difficult times. She was getting sentimental, but it was true. She didn't mind so much that Minho had kept things to himself and didn't completely bare his heart to her- that was his decision and she'd respect that- but if he reverted from this state of openness there would definitely be a sense of loss for her.

"You're up and walking Newt!" he said, watching happily as the blonde swayed around the room on his crutches, "Finally, shank, I've missed your shuck face showing up everywhere."

"I'm pretty darn chuffed about going to the toilet by myself." Newt exclaimed happily, stumbling over to the Keeper and almost face planting in the process.

Minho turned to her, used to Newt's chaotic energy already, nodding his head slightly, "Going into the Maze now, Ad."

She smiled, nodding, "Be safe, Min, you need to cut my hair today. I'll come out to the Doors when you come back."

He nodded, raising his hand in farewell as he left the room, already jogging to the Doors, eventually speeding to a sprint as he entered the secret corridors.

Newt was grinning, somewhat too widely, as Adira turned to face him again.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She rolled her eyes and Newt grinned sheepishly, walking around the room on his crutches, enjoying his new found independence and movement. She was glad for him- he'd after all been stuck in the Med place for as long as a lifetime and frankly she didn't want to see him in there again.

Her eyes turned to the bed with the previously Stung boy, still in bed and dead to the world in the collapses of sleep. Clint had already been attending to both her and Newt; the boy had been busier than usual having three full time patients to care for and now he'd have to stress over Gally too.

"Well it's working out for you Newt." Clint said, walking into the room once again, with a handful of plants in his hands, "Good thing too, you can get the shuck outta here now."

"You'll miss me, Clint!" Newt yelled back, his glee overriding the Med-Jack's usual pessimism.

"I won't." he responded shortly though not crossly, "And you too Adira, can leave now."

She nodded, "I was planning on it anyway, Clint. But my leg…"

He nodded absentmindedly, "Calvin and Kasper made a pair of crutches for you, but I think you'd be fine with just one of them. Or none."

She smiled, touched by the boys' actions, "That'd be great, Clint."

He nodded again, walking off into his store room, supposedly to sort out his findings into cohesive areas for future use- the boy was radically organised to the point of rage if something was slightly amiss upon his shelves.

Her eyes fell on Gally again, this time annoyance lighting up inside of her. She should've told Clint that he had woken up but something had stopped her. It was stupid, but hey, she wasn't perfect. Still, it weighed on her mind.

"Buggin' hell-"

Newt smiled at her from the ground, crutches fallen beside him, his hand rubbing the small of his back.

She sighed, "Well?"

"Let's just be honest, we both saw that coming." he grinned, "Now help me up, the floor's a bit naff for sitting, really."