A few minutes went by, and Clara's pain finally returned. The adrenaline kept her from focusing on it, but now it wore off and left her feeling everything. Nausea tore through her stomach from all the running, the dehydration made her head pound. Her side continued to bleed until Clara was surprised there was still some left in her body. She repeatedly crawled behind a wall to throw up through the half hour that passed. She was literally drained, of blood and emotions. She rocked back and forth, weeping as she puked, making sure she wasn't anywhere near the boys. She crawled back when she felt she was completely void of food in her stomach; Thomas groaned in pain.
"I can't believe we're still alive." he breathed, looking at Minho, who was staring at his feet. "Are there more of them? Did we just kill them all?"
Minho snorted "Somehow we made it to sunrise, or we would've had ten more on our butts before long." He shifted, wincing "I can't believe it. Seriously. We made it through the whole night- never been done before."
"What did we do differently?" Thomas asked
"I don't know. It's kind of hard to ask a dead guy what he did wrong."
The boys kept talking, but Clara tuned them out, her head tilted toward the pink sky above the Cliff. She was too tired to listen. A little while later Minho caught her attention by waving at her.
"We need to go get Alby. And the Doors are opening soon." he said. Clara nodded. If I can stand up, she thought. It took a few tries but eventually Clara stood, knees buckled, lightheaded. Her vision began to cloud. All the blood and nutrient loss was messing with her brain. She swayed for a second but righted herself, taking tentative steps towards Minho and Thomas. Clara saw Minho's mouth move, saying something to her, but she didn't hear it.
"What?" she asked. Even her voice sounded distant.
"I asked if you were okay." Minho repeated.
"Okay? Yeah, yeah I'm fine."
Minho's eyes narrowed "...okay. Let's go, then."
They slowly walked toward the Glade. Toward home. The boys were talking again, so Clara distracted herself by cutting some ivy off the walls with her machete. Suddenly, Minho got excited and began to jog off, Thomas behind him. Clara groaned internally, put away her weapon, and began to run.
Every step was excruciating, sending sharp jolts of pain up Clara's body. Her vision blurred in and out and her head was spinning. Next thing she knew she was on the ground, her cheek pressed against the stone. Minho and Thomas heard her fall and scrambled over, kneeling beside her.
"Holy-" Minho started "Clara, you said you were okay, you're not okay!"
"Did I just fall?" Clara mumbled.
"What do you think, shank?"
Thomas glanced at her side, which was still soaked in fresh blood, and his eyes widened.
"Shuck, Minho. Look." Minho leaned over and his expression turned fearful.
"We've got to get her back. Now." he said, pulling Clara off the ground. "Can you stand?" Minho asked her. She nodded.
The three walked as fast as they could, turning various corners. Clara gripped onto the back of Minho's shirt, willing her eyes to stay open and her legs to keep moving. They rounded one last corner and Clara's heart fluttered when she saw the threshold of the Glade, Newt standing at the front. The group of Gladers there looked on in awe, nudging each other, eyes wide. Newt's own mouth was slack, and he brought a bandaged hand up to his mouth, tears of relief brimming in his eyes. Clara could see him trembling. But the closer she approached the hazier her vision became and her legs started to give up on her. She tried to stay conscious but her eyes drooped closed and she fell into Newt's arms.
The instant Clara went unconscious the Gladers surged forward, talking all at once. Newt dropped to his knees with the weight of her body, cradling her in his arms carefully; Minho kneeled beside them.
"What happened? What happened to her!" Newt yelled over the chaos.
"Oh, so no 'welcome back, glad you survived'?" Minho replied, receiving an angry glare. "She fell on our way back here, could barely walk. She got a gash in-" before Minho could finish, Newt drew his right hand away from her, and found it covered in blood. He turned Clara over and saw the wound in her side; his heart skipped five beats.
"Medjacks." Zart said from the crowd "We need to take her there." Newt nodded, knowing he wouldn't be the one to bring her there. He had other things to attend to.
It took all of Newt's willpower to let Clara go and give her to Zart, especially right after getting her back. He watched painfully as Zart ran toward the Homestead, carrying Clara's unconscious form, until they disappeared through the doorway. Newt sighed and stood up next to Minho and Thomas.
"How in the bloody-" he began.
"We'll tell you later." Thomas interrupted. "We have to save Alby."
Newt's face went white. "What do you mean? He's alive?"
"Just come here." Thomas craned his neck and pointed to where Alby hung in the vines. He was still in one piece, fortunately.
"Is he... alive?" Newt asked, completely bewildered. He wanted to believe them, but a voice in the back of his head kept telling him otherwise.
"I don't know. Was when we left him up there."
"When you left him..." Newt shook his head. "You and Minho get your butts inside, get yourselves checked by the Med-jacks. You look bloody awful. I want the whole story when they're done and you're rested up." Newt wanted to end the conversation there so he quickly turned away and limped towards the Homestead.
Newt reached a bandaged hand towards the handle when Clint stepped between him and the room Clara was in.
"Clint, what are you doing? Let me through." Newt asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Sorry shank. Can't do that. She might be contagious."
"Contagious? With what?"
"We found traces of vomit on her clothes, she was obviously sick when she was out there."
Newt stepped forward forcefully, hand still on the doorknob. "How do you know it's bloody sickness and not something else?"
"We can't take that risk. Having both leaders down for the count would not be a good thing. You know that." Newt surely knew. He let go of the handle and let his arm drop to his side, tears stinging his eyes.
"Just... just promise me you'll let me know if she's okay."
"Yeah, of course." Clint quickly opened the door wide enough for him to slip through and shut it again, leaving Newt alone in the hallway. He turned and went downstairs, exiting the Homestead. Outside, he took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair before going to check on how they were getting Alby out of that Maze.
