Season Two, Episode Twelve: The Strong Get Going

Immediately after the door had closed, separating Elizabeth from Minho and the others, the Griever that had been trying to mow her down let out a guttural scream It swatted its leg and threw her to the ground where she fell painfully on her shoulder. Thankfully her head thwacked against her arm instead of the pavement, but the whole experience was jarring. The world swayed around her, colors mixing into one another as she struggled to find the strength to get back up. In the midst of her daze she thought she could hear a person crying nearby. The Griever charged again, and she rolled out of the way just before its stinger stabbed her, and rolled a second time when it tried again. Her head was swimming; each breathe felt like a struggle. It would be so easy to simply give up, now, she thought. It would be so easy to let go.

The Griever backed up and Elizabeth raised her head to see another layer of vines and leaves against the wall. Maybe the same ones she and Minho had hid in before. The Griever bore down on her again, and at the last minute, she heaved herself forward and rolled into the bushes, her shoulder and chest both screaming in protest. Something sharp dragged itself across her arm and she brought it to her chest, feeling a sudden cool against her hot skin.

Elizabeth.

It hurt so much…it felt like she was going to throw up. She closed her eyes and pressed her back up against the wall, the coolness of it soothing on her skin. The Griever shrieked and the vines shook. She was so lost. Minho and P.F. were long gone, and so were Damon and Stoy. It was so foolish of them to have entered the maze alone, and maybe it was foolish of Elizabeth for going in to find them.

Elizabeth.

Newt. Elizabeth let out a sob as the voice of the man she loved echoed in her mind-his sweet face and boyish freckles and the way he smiled at her…everything about him.

I love you. Always.

She loved him, too. She loved him with all of the love in her heart, and there was no explaining it. She would not go down without a fight; she would not allow herself to miss another chance to be with him. All of them. Gally and Dalton and Nick and Tyn and Minho and Zart and Frypan and everyone else. She would not leave without saying goodbye.

With newfound resolve, Elizabeth pushed up against the wall and sat up with a grunt of pain. Her head swam when she opened her eyes, but sheer determination got her on her feet. The Griever was screeching and still scurrying around out there, but it almost seemed to be losing interest. Elizabeth waited for an opening. After a pregnant pause, the Griever suddenly let out a guttural sound from the depths of its throat and turned around, its attention elsewhere. Elizabeth saw her chance, and took it. She crashed out of the vines and ran in the opposite direction of the Griever. When she risked turning around, the beast stood frozen, its eyes dark and glassy, mouth open in a silent scream. She could hear whirring sounds, but otherwise it almost seemed…dead. Whatever had happened, Elizabeth didn't want to push her luck, or whatever it was that was helping her—for good or worse. She pushed herself as much as she could, but she wasn't going nearly as fast as she would be if her lungs weren't burning so terribly. Black spots swarmed in her vision, but she pressed on, determined to make it to the gate that was probably already closed, anyway.

I will get to you, Newt. No matter what happens, I will find you.

When Minho and P.F. ran through the gate, they were swarmed with other Gladers. Jeff and Clint immediately began fretting over Minho's injuries, and a flurry of interrogations broke out.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Did you find them?"

"Where are Damon and Stoy?"

"Who's bloody idea was this?"

"Are you slintheads okay?"

"Leo!" Nick snapped his fingers and the small boy stepped out from the jumble and stumbled towards the Glade leader. Nick jabbed a thumb at Newt.

"He says you know what's going on," he said, "is that true?"

Leo gulped and looked at Newt, who wasn't glaring at him, exactly, but had a very stern expression on his face.

"I-I'm sorry!" he finally choked out. "I didn't think this would happen!"

"What are you talking about?" Nick grabbed the boy by his shoulders and shook him, his face getting redder by the minute. "SPEAK, DAMN IT!"

"Damon and Stoy…they went in the Maze," Leo's voice was shaky, but strong. He forced himself to keep eye-contact with Nick. "I told Elizabeth and she—"

"Elizabeth?" Newt interrupted, his face pinching in confusion.

Now Leo dropped his gaze, feeling the heat of guilt upon his face. "She went in there with Minho to find them and—"

Newt interrupted him again. "Elizabeth is in the Maze?" His face paled and he fell back a step, as if he'd been hit. At his words, a hush fell over the Gladers.

"That can't be right," Gally said, "Elizabeth went to bed."

Again, a shudder of guilt passed through Leo's body. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. Nick released his hold on him.

"It isn't the kid's fault," P.F.'s voice broke through the silence. "He told Dalton and I and we let Alby know we were going in the Maze," his eyes sought out someone in the circle and rested on Chris. "Apparently the whole thing was Chris's idea."

At the mention on Chris's name, Newt let out a shout and stomped over to the dark-haired boy, who, to his credit looked just as surprised as the rest of them.

"Wait a minute! I didn't tell them to go into the Maze!" Cbr protested, for once sounding hurt by the others scrutiny. Newt didn't say anything when he came to a stop in front of Chris. His hands were fists at his side and he was shaking with something uncontained, but all he did was stare at the other boy.

"P.F., where is Dalton?" Nick asked. P.F.'s face fell and he shook his head.

"I-he-" his voice cut off and he turned away from Nick, his head bowed and his hand coming up to his face.

Minho stepped in front of him and said: "He led some Grievers away from us so we could get out. I haven't seen him, but," he stopped to look back at P.F. "He sacrificed himself to save us."

Nick ran a shaky hand through his hair and silently cursed the universe. Nobody moved or talked until Gally stepped forward. A shadow had passed over his face, and it gave a dark effect to his disposition that chilled even Nick to his bones.

"We can't stand around and do nothing," he said, his voice eerily calm. His eyes found Nick's in the growing darkness, almost glowing against the dim light of the sun behind the walls of the Maze. "What do we do?"

It was the first time Gally had ever looked to him as leader; the first time he'd publicly addressed him as such. Nick felt a twinge of pride—and something else, too. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.

"No one else goes into the Maze," he said. "Get Minho to the medic hut, and take the greenie and P.F. with you. Alby and Newt," he turned to his right-hand two. "I want you here with me. We'll stand guard at the entrance in case any of them come back out."

He looked over at Gally, and gave him a small nod. "Gally too," he said.

While he was talking, Zart put an arm around P.F.'s shoulder and gently propelled him forward, neither ignoring his friend's half-yelling, half-sobbing protests nor encouraging them.

"The rest of you can go about your normal business," Nick said. A few of the Gladers started heading back, but some were keen on lingering, especially the ones who felt closest with those still in the Maze.

"You can't expect us to go to bed like nothing is happening!" Tyn shouted, his glasses falling off his face with the force behind his words.

"Relax, Tyn. He didn't say you have to sleep right away," Alby said. Nick rolled his eyes and turned his back on the shank. He didn't need this right now, especially not when Frypan and Louis and some of the others started hashing out protests as well. Alby was better at dealing with social ineptitudes, anyway.

Gally was talking to Newt in a hushed voice, and Nick was surprised that Newt was holding himself together so well. There was a constant look of panic on his face, and he was fidgeting and blinking his eyes a lot, but otherwise hadn't broken down. Gally talking to him appeared to be helping, at least a little. When Gally put a hand on Newt's shoulder and told him to "keep it together," Nick felt it again: the something-other-than-pride, and this time he recognized what it was.

Respect.

"Keep it together," Gally said, his hand on Newt's shoulder. Newt surprised him by giving a quick nod. He looked sick, but there was still hope in his eyes. Gally knew he wasn't the best at dealing with extreme emotions, but what little comfort he could provide he was willing to give.

"Gally," Newt whispered, his voice cracking.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be okay."

Gally blinked in response. He wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to react to this, because of course the shank wouldn't be okay.

"I mean it, Gally," Newt smiled. He still looked nervous, but Gally found himself believing what he said.

"Good that," Gally said.

They stopped talking after that, but remained standing together at the Maze's entrance. Far away, they heard the screech of an angry Griever, and Nick stomped over to talk to Alby and Tyn, who refused to leave.

"I thought I told you to get out of here, shank!" Nick said. Tyn pushed his glasses up.

"I didn't listen," he said.

What in reality was only a few minutes felt like hours to Gally as they stood there, waiting. He didn't mean to be so affected when the doors started closing, but he let out a groan when he heard the familiar creak of the old doors moving. And then, suddenly, Tyn was running through them.

"There she is!" he yelled as Alby tried to reach out and pull him back. "I see her!"

Sure enough, when Gally looked again, he could make out a hobbling figure, blonde hair bright in the growing darkness. He grabbed Newt's arm when he bolted forward.

"Elizabeth!" Tyn yelled.

She was so close. So close, Gally could see the pain in her eyes as she propelled herself forward. The doors were halfway closed when she crossed the barrier into the Glade, just as a Griever came in screaming from the left, baring its teeth and poising its stinger for attack.

Everybody started screaming; Newt was shouting a lot of 'bloody's in Gally's ear as he held him in place, Alby and Nick were screaming and yelling at the sight of the Griever. It all happened so fast; Tyn raced forward, shoving Elizabeth out of the way just as the stinger came down and the doors slammed shut, crushing the Griever between the doors in an explosion of slime and metal body parts.

Newt wrenched himself free from Gally and flew to Elizabeth's side. She was on her knees vomiting and crying.

"Tyn!" she sobbed in-between heaves. Newt was gentle when he drew her hair back and gathered her in his arms.

"Shank's been stung!" Nick cursed. He and Alby were holding Tyn down as he writhed in pain from the wound on his back. Gally joined Newt with Elizabeth, and they waited patiently until their friends were able to calm down. Elizabeth stopped retching and sank back into Newt. He held her close and kissed her dirty cheeks.

"Why?" she whispered, barely audible. "Why did you do it?"

Tyn wasn't close enough to have heard her, but all the same he used the last of his strength to say, "You would do the same for me."

"Idiot!" Even in her weak state, Elizabeth's voice was full of anguish and frustration. She held out the arm that she'd been holding close to her chest, shaking. There was a deep gash from her armpit to inner elbow. Already the effects of the Griever's poison could be seen with the black, swirling veins that originated from the gash and spread to her wrist.

"I've already been stung!" she cried. She turned her face into Newt's shirt and her eyes fluttered close.