Minho had never felt so angry in his life.

Well, not angry.

More like…

Betrayed.

Why would Newt even think he should…

Didn't he know how destroyed they would be?

Minho shuddered to think if it had actually worked. If he had come around the corner to find Newt dead on the floor of the Maze, and then found that note, and knew that Newt had killed himself. That would have brought unbelievable pain.

Minho didn't even realize he was at the Cemetery until he almost walked into a headstone. He stepped around and read the name inscribed roughly into the stone slab. Leo.

Minho smiled softly, and brushed a caterpillar off of the headstone. "Hey kid. Man, you certainly stirred up a lot of shit, huh?" He dropped slowly to his knees, focusing on the grass growing around the freshly tilled soil of the grave. "We could have been burying Newt, y'know." He twirled the picked blade of grass between his fingers.

"I dunno what you can see up there, but...do you know why? I mean, I knew he was angry, but would that really trigger something? He seemed fine otherwise." Minho trailed off, defeated. "I don't know. You really shook him up when you died...maybe that's it?"

He huffed a small, bitter laugh. "Wouldn't you know it, I am going crazy. Having conversations with the dead and buried."

He dropped the twisted clover down on the grave, stalking away from it, but if he had stuck around, he would have seen the clover untangle itself, right itself upwards, and grow an extra leaf, planting a 4 leaf clover on Leo's gravesite.

"Minho!"

Minho lay pouting in his hammock, his hands folded over his torso, focusing up on the treetops above him. "What's wrong now Alby?"

"The Medjacks want to see us in the hut. C'mon."

The Asian boy groaned as he rolled out of his hammock, slouching after the leader indignantly. Alby had been stony ever since they had found Newt's note, and wore a constant expression of anxiety on his face.

The wooden door to the Medical hut squeaked as it was opened, revealing an anxious and guilty looking Clint and Jeff.

"So?" Alby asked impatiently, crossing his arms, as if to show defiance.

"Y'see, when we set his leg…" Jeff gestured to the sleeping Newt behind him, "it was a bad break beforehand, and we're not experienced or anything…"

"For God sake, what?" Minho interrupted Jeff's babbling.

"He'll have a limp the rest of his life. He'll be lucky to walk, with some work, but he won't be able to run again." Clint said bluntly.

All the air seemed to leave the room, and Minho could feel something tightening in his chest. No. No. Nonononono…

Newt couldn't run anymore?

Worse than that, he'd have to relearn how to walk?

Minho could feel the room spinning, and his knees felt weak, and he bent to sit down on the chair behind him-except the chair was actually another foot behind him, and he sat down on empty air instead, toppling to the ground with a crash.

The combined sound of Minho and the table he had grabbed echoed around the small hut, and Newt woke up with a start.

"Huh? What-who-what's going on?" he asked groggily, squinting his eyes towards the group. Minho's eyes narrowed, wanting to be mad at his friend, but his carefully constructed walls were beginning to crumble at the uncomfortable look of pain on Newt's face.

Alby walked over to him and squatted down, his hand firmly on Newt's shoulder. "This might be a shock, but I want you to know it's going to be okay. We'll be here for you."

"Alby, the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Alby took a deep breath, before looking up again to meet Newt's eyes.

"You won't be a Runner leg is too badly broken"

Minho expected Newt to be shocked. To yell, scream, cry, whatever. But to his surprise, his British friend simply nodded once, and buried his face back into the pillow, as if to go back to sleep.

"What, no response?" Minho couldn't help himself, revoking on his "don't talk to Newt because you're still mad at the shuckface" rule.

"It doesn't matter." Newt's voice was muffled by the pillow.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nobody needs to be a Runner anymore. There's no way out, Alby. It changes every night, it's impossible to map. I've run every bit of it myself, and I know."

Sudden realization hit Minho with the force of a punch.

It wasn't just Leo.

It was the constant death that surrounded Newt.

The constant fall of his friends.

The constant feeling of missing his past.

The constant running of a Maze that he thought there was no way out of.

"Is that why you were so depressed?" Minho blurted out. Alby's eyes narrowed at Minho's lack of tact, but he pretended not to notice. He had to know. He crossed the hut and shoved Alby out of the way with his shoulder, and gently placed a hand on Newt's shoulder, kneeling down to his level. Clint and Jeff exchanged a look, sensed the tone, and exited quietly, leaving the three alone.

"Is that why you jumped?" Minho asked quietly.

Newt's eyes were downcast, focusing on the bedsheets in front of him, until he swallowed hard and nodded once, slowly.

"You guys don't know." he said, his voice hitching and cracking. He looked back up, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "What it's like. I get these flashes, things I know I've lost, but I can't remember them. And then more and more good people die, and more are sent up in the Box to replace them. And everybody is placing all this weight on us, thinking we can get them out of this hellhole, but we can't. There's no way to escape this place, this death, this fear, this loss." Newt looked back down at his hands clenching the blankets in a death grip. "I just wanted to find a way out." his voice was quieter, almost a whisper. "Whatever way I could think of."

"Newt…" Alby started, a loss of what to say, but Minho interrupted him.

"Newt, you can't give up, okay? There is a way out. I know, okay? I don't know how I know, but I do. But even if there wasn't, you can't ever do that again, you hear me? Because maybe you would have found a way out, but what about all the people who would have been even more trapped? We need you, Newt. We all do."

"Yeah." Alby found his voice again. "If you give up hope, then everyone will. And we can't lose hope. We need to believe that there's more to that Maze. That we'll find a way home."

A long, heavy pause consumed them.

"I didn't mean it when I said you were weak. Hell, if that's what you were feeling, I'm surprised you didn't try that earlier." Alby shot Minho a look of horror, but Minho kept talking. "You're the one who keeps us strong, Newt. Because you're so strong. I think...I think we should tell everybody that a Griever got you. That's what most of them think anyways. We don't want anyone to think there's no hope." Minho decided.

"Hey look…" Newt started, then trailed off. Both Gladers looked at him expectantly, so he hastily thought of something to say to finish his thought. "Um, if I'm not a Runner, I think I'd like to, um, work in the garden…"

Minho knew that wasn't what he was going to say originally, but he nodded and glanced at Alby, who nodded as well.

"And I think Minho should be Keeper."

"What? Shouldn't we have some sort of meeting-"

"I meant what I said."

The comment shorted out the conversation, much like a bucket of water being thrown onto a fire.

"Now, we'll let you get some sleep. That leg ain't gonna heal if you don't rest." Alby ruffled Newt's hair affectionately, and stood up, and Minho followed suit.

"Hey, guys?"

The two turned simultaneously.

"Thanks. I mean, I really...thank you." Newt's eyes looked brighter, his face less pained, his aura lighter.

Minho shot him one last smile. "Just remember man: We'll always be there to catch you when you fall."

The End

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the story, check out my other (very-long) Maze Runner story, Tears of Titanium.

When You Fall deals with sensitive topics, and harmful thoughts. If anybody is feeling depressed, worthless, or considering suicidal thoughts, call 833-456-4566 (if you live in Canada).

Just remember, all of you: You are amazing. There is nobody in the world who is just like you. Laugh. Take pleasure in the little things, the smell of rain, the way the sun shines, or the way the trees sway in the breeze.

If anybody needs somebody to talk to, my PM box is always open.

Take care.

-joandapuffin