Eleanor observed the girl's face.
She really was stunning.
Of course, she went from being the only girl in the Glade to the ugliest girl in the Glade.
She emited a chuckle that soon turned into a sob, but she had no more tears to cry. She had done her best not to think about what had happened. But she didn't think she could manage sleeping, or even being by herself.
Due to that, a comatose girl had been her best option. Definitely better than any of the Gladers.
She played with the dried blood on her fingertips not having bothered to clean it. Well, she'll have all night to do so.
A soft knock distracted her from her fingers, making her look up.
She guessed all of the boys had already gone to sleep, but wasn't really surprised to see Newt standing at the doorway.
"Hey." He said soflty, as if he was worried she would lash out.
He looked horrible.
Not that she cared.
She didn't say anything.
Newt sighed and came inside the hut, passing the painfully empty mat with black stains.
"Go to bed."
She knew it wasn't an order, but it still felt like one.
Why did all these boys think they knew what was good for her more than she did?
Still, she didn't want to argue.
"I want to watch her tonight." She said as firmly as she could.
Newt surprised her by not opposing straight away.
He took a long look at her and with a sigh he moved to the cupboard, coming back only a few seconds later with some bandages and a bottle filled with a clear liquid.
The blonde boy sat down next to her and grabbed her hands in his, dragging them towards him gently.
Eleanor removed them. She felt really tired.
"I can do it myself." She said.
He frowned at her. "Don't fight me. You faint at the sight of blood."
Eleanor was fairly shocked he remembered but she was more surprised he didn't inquire on how she had hurt herself.
When she didn't make any movement, he spoke again, "You don't have to talk to me. Just let me do this."
She exhaled slowly but put her hands back into his.
The next day passed by in a blur of work and numbness for Eleanor. She wasn't the only one.
The whole Glade was quieter then usual, which made it harder for Eleanor to escape her thoughts.
Specially, since neither Zart nor Alby were breathing down her neck, bothering her about some trivial matter she did not care about. When she thought about it, she hadn't seen Alby at all.
Zart was busy helping Thomas, who still looked clearly distraught, with his trial day as a Track-hoe. But, even if he hadn't been with the Newbie, she knew the dark circles under her eyes and the very public breakdown she had had the previous day would have kept him far away.
She couldn't believe it had only been a week. Two newbies, One girl. Ben had been stung, Ben had been hurt, Ben was dead…
Don't think about it.
Running helped clear her head a little.
She hadn't run at all for a long time and her aching muscles actually helped her take her mind off things. Focusing on the physical pain helped, strangely enough.
She resumed that as long as she kept busy, she might just be able to keep the dark thoughts at bay.
She didn't need friends if all they would bring her was hurt and disappointment. She clearly hadn't learnt her lesson with Gally but she sure as hell would have to from then on.
Afterwards, she let the shower wash away all the sweat, dirt and sadness from her aching body. Maybe, not the sadness, she knew it might never be gone. But it sure helped her feel human again.
Once changed, she made her way to the Kitchens, not caring if she saw any of the Gladers.
She would ignore Minho and Alby and all of them, but she had to eat. She needed to eat. She would take care of herself.
She felt a lot stronger in a werid way. She wouldn't need Minho. She wouldn't need anyone. She would make sure she could do it on her own.
Before she could reach the Kitchens, however, she noticed a gathering of boys on the Northern opening of the Maze.
Ben. She thought.
Maybe he had survived. He knew the maze. Maybe he was alive.
Stop.
She cut that train of thought. She couldn't afford to get her hopes up.
Ben was dead. She had to accept it.
But it was almost time for the Doors to close. Why were they so close to the gates when it was almost night time?
Something was up. She picked up her pace.
When she got to them the sun was setting behind her. Eleanor spotted Chuck near the front and a look around told her he was her safest bet.
She made her way to the front, not caring that she was pushing Gladers aside.
"What's going on?" She asked as she reached the young boy, slightly out of breath.
"They're not back yet." He replied, barely looking at her.
His gaze was focused straight ahead on the dark corridor of concrete and ivy vines.
"Who isn't?" She asked, confused.
She could've sworn she had bumped into a few Runners on her way to Chuck.
Thomas was there too, she noted, and Newt. The fact that Alby wasn't next to him rang some alarms.
"The Runners?" A wave of panic washed over her.
Frantically looking around for a mop of styled dark hair, she couldn't see Minho anywhere.
"Minho and Alby." Said Thomas to her right, also staring straight ahead.
Newt glared at Thomas from his other side.
"Why can't we send someone after them?" Thomas asked.
"Why aren't they back?" Eleanor spoke at the same time looking between the two of them.
"It's…" Newt started.
"Against the rules." Eleanor finished bitterly, turning her questioning stare to Newt.
He still hadn't answered her question.
Newt looked at her, she could see the barely concealed worry in his eyes. That definitely did not help her not to panic.
"They were supposed to be back by now." The second-in-command explained calmly, but stealing quick looks at the concrete hell in front of them.
"Minho found something in there, Alby went with him to check it out." Thomas explained, he hadn't bothered hiding his worry.
"But the doors are about to close." She cried.
No, no, no, no. This can't be happening.
"We should send someone after them." Thomas repeated.
Neither of them bothered with answering, they both knew there was no time.
As if on cue, a loud rumble shook the ground around them.
"No." She whispered.
The gigantic doors started closing without a moment to spare.
"Newt." She exclaimed, the panic in her voice clear as day.
It couldn't be happening. It was impossible.
Newt didn't answer, she didn't expect him to. He was too busy staring straight ahead, completely focused, as if he could make them appear with her mind.
"C'mon, c'mon…" She could barely hear him muttering.
"There!" Chuck exclaimed as two figures rounded the corner.
Eleanor would have recognised him anywhere. He was there, he would make it.
But even before Newt spoke, she realised something wasn't right.
"Something's wrong."
It looked like they were moving too slow, attached to one another.
She squinted her eyes and finally saw it.
The shouting of the Gladers was deafening.
Minho was carrying Alby's unconscious full body weight as the Leader hung off his shoulder. He was panting, using all the strength he could conjure. The closing of the Doors was a ticking time bomb and-
"They're not gonna make it." Newt's voice reached her through all the chaos and she stole a look at him.
She knew he was right, he wouldn't make it.
She couldn't lose him.
"Eleanor!" Newt recognised something in her eyes, but it was too late.
She had started taken off. She felt a tug. She hadn't gotten very far. A pressure on her upper arm and something started dragging her backwards.
She saw Minho's eyes on her. He gave out a scream and pushed with all his might to get to her. She fought too but whoever had grabbed her was much stronger than her and she was soon brought back, with grass beneath her feet, to the other side of the Gate.
She didn't take her gaze away from Minho. He had to make it. He had to.
"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE HIM!" Said a loud voice very close to her.
The opening was so small then, she could barely see him from where she was. She fought again to get to him. She couldn't break free.
She barely had time to recognise the figure of Thomas leaping through the small opening and then-
Nothing.
A loud sound.
The shattering of her heart.
She stared straight ahead for what felt like hours.
No one moved.
The pressure in her arm reminded her she was still being held.
"Let me go!" She fought again. her own voice unrecognisable to her ears.
Finally, she was released. She leaped far away from he captor, falling on the impenetrable wall of concrete.
Gally looked down at her.
"I saved your life, shuck-face."
She stared at him for a few second, feeling nothing.
Nothing mattered anymore.
"Don't touch me again."
Eleanor turned back towards the concrete. Something was tearing itself apart inside of her, but she couldn't think. She couldn't feel.
This isn't real.
It can't be real.
"I told him I hated him." Eleanor said suddenly.
She was still looking at the closed Gate, still thinking they would open up any minute and her best friend would come out, jogging towards her and smiling like he just did with her; like he had simply come back from a normal day in the Maze.
But the light had faded, the Doors were closed.
He was not coming back.
Newt had joined her a few hours before and simply sat next to her. He didn't say anything, neither did she.
Until she remembered the last word she had said to him.
"I don't."
Suddenly a big urge formed in her chest. She turned to the older boy.
"I don't hate him, Newt." She blurted anxiously. "I should have told him that."
She could only see the blonde's big brown eyes.
"I should have told him I don't hate him. I don't- I don't hate him, Newt."
Eleanor was breathing faster now and could only focus on his eyes that had taken on a panicked glimmer. Her lungs didn't seem to be cooperating.
"He should know I don't hate him." She kept repeating. "I don't- I don't…"
Her vision was blurred then. She kept trying to inhale with little success.
She noticed Newt's hands move up to hold her upper arms but she could hardly feel his touch.
His lips were also moving, she noticed. But she could not make out the sounds around her, aside from her own empty breathing.
Eleanor looked around, wondering how she could be suffocating on that big of an open space.
She only turned back to look at him when his rough hands touched her face.
She could feel him then, she noted. She focused back on his eyes as sound started slowly coming back to her.
"Eleanor, just breathe." She could hear him now. "That's it... just breathe."
Air finally reached her lungs and she felt like coughing instantly, feeling like she was choking.
She focused on it. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Following the boy's actions.
He was still resting his hand against her cheek and Eleanor realised they were so close their noses were almost touching.
Still, she didn't move.
She just kept breathing, her air mixing up with his.
Eleanor had the sudden unexpected urge to lean forward and separate the space between them and before she could comprehend what was happening she had closed the gap.
Her lips collided against his softly, in a daze. Time seemed to be moving slowly, as if she had drank a jar of Gally's mystery drink.
It was nothing like her dreams had been. This was so real, so overwhelming.
That small touch had already made her shiver, but she pressed further.
She could feel his breath on her lips, his hand now painfully unmoving against her cheek. For a small moment, her head cleared, and she was just touch and warmth, and Newt.
Everything else had faded away.
But it was gone as soon as it had come.
Eleanor hesitated. Was this right?
Newt's other hand grabbed the back of her neck slowly as he deepened the kiss and all doubts were quickly erased from her mind.
Her own hand moved up to his hair without her telling it to, her bandaged nails digging slightly in his head but he didn't seem to mind.
Heat surrounded Eleanor. She could have sworn it came from inside of her. Shivers ran wherever his touch graced her skin.
Newt was so warm, and soft, and sweet that she could only focus on his touch, on the feeling of his lips on her own. Their tongues touched for a soft moment and the heat inside her intensified.
Suddenly, a loud screeching sound echoed through the Glade.
Eleanor and Newt sprung apart.
It took a few seconds for the weight of what she had just done to fall upon her.
The recent Griever sound bringing back reality like a slap in her face.
Minho was out there, facing whatever horrors awaited in the Maze and there she was, kissing some other boy as if her life hadn't fallen apart only hours before.
What kind of horrible person was she?
Newt was staring at her wearing a shocked expression whilst touching his lips with his fingers.
Suddenly, Eleanor couldn't take it anymore. She burst out crying.
Why was she so messed up?
Her best friend would be dead by morning if he wasn't already, and she had done nothing but tell him he hated him and kiss one of his best friend. Her friend, her Minho, had been sent to his death and she had not stopped it.
Eleanor felt sick.
She was the one who deserved to die. She should be the one stuck inside that hell with Grievers tearing apart her insides, not Ben, not Alby, not Thomas and especially not Minho. She did. Even the Greenie had gone and tried to save them while she stood there, too weak to do anything.
What was wrong with her?
Newt, while he had been observing her not knowing what to do, spoke then.
"Eleanor." he said, clearly out of his element.
He brushed her hair away lightly with his fingers.
"No." She quickly stopped him, her voice soft and hoarse.
She didn't deserve his pity, or his concern, or whatever it was. She deserved to die.
"I'm sorry, Newt." She whispered.
His worried eyes followed her as she got up quickly and walked away. She didn't want to see that look on his face.
He made no move to stop her.
Tears clouded her vision as she walked, not knowing where she was going, not caring.
Her breathing was coming fast and she felt her body shaking, but she didn't care.
The world around her had transformed into a macabre show of lights and shadows. She almost made a move to the shadows, but what was left of the rational part of her brain told her that those were the Deadheads and Newt would probably follow her if she went that way, so she kept walking on the edge.
When the tears had become too blinding and she felt like she couldn't breathe she leaned onto the building closest to her.
She dared look back then. Newt was still where she'd left him. He wasn't even looking her way. She felt a wave of shame when she felt disappointed that he wasn't paying her any attention .
She turned back around, disgusted with herself.
She didn't deserve his attention, or anyone's.
Still, she looked back once more to see if he might be looking.
He wasn't.