Author's note ~ Hope you enjoy!
"I'll help you Min." Newt sniffed, falling in behind the keeper as he sprinted off into the trees. "But you can bet I'm going to bloody rub it in if these...visitors...don't turn out to be as wonderful as you think they are."
"You'll be eating your words before sunrise." Minho promised, scanning the dark for hints, "Just wait and see."
Footsteps crashed through the woods, interspersed with panting, deep laughter and high pitched giggles. Crashes, curses and shouts rang through the air. After ten or fifteen minutes of wandering in the dark, the brighter boys experienced an epiphany and raced back to the clearing, grabbing burning branches from the fire to use as torches to light their way. Minho and Newt, each carrying a fiery brand, worked their way systematically through the eastern section of the woods.
Newt shimmied up a tall slender pine and snagged the first colorful bit of cloth, almost invisible among the needles. Minho slogged through the coldly churning stream and retrieved another from where it had been tied to a thin stick anchored in the middle of the current. They were picking their way through a thicket of tangled thorny briars when they heard a hellacious commotion followed by a symphony of high pitched screaming. They exchanged a concerned look and, in perfect synchronization, extracted themselves from the bushes and raced toward the ruckus. Skidding to a stop under a broad leafed maple, they ascertained the source of the distressing sounds and immediately burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Gally was hanging upside down and all but hog tied in some kind of coarsely woven net. In the light of their torches they could clearly see where the trap had been pinned to the dirt; a thick branch lay off to the side, a bit of cloth tied to the end. The bait had obviously been too tempting for Gally, his urge to win silencing any suspicions as to the easy accessibility of the flag. In his haste to claim it and add it to the two already tucked into his belt, he'd barrelled head first into a very simple – yet very effective – trap. Gally, usually so rugged and terse, squealed like a little girl and writhed within his impromptu hammock, dangling a full six feet off the ground.
Once they'd managed to get their breath back, Newt shot a grin at Minho.
"Whaddya think, Min? Cut him down, or leave 'im hanging?"
Minho's answering smirk was devilish in the flickering light.
"Well, he's always saying that he doesn't have the time to hang out; he's always too busy! Work, work, work! I think we should leave him here – maybe he'd enjoy a little R&R."
"Newt! Minho! Don't you shuckin' dare!" Gally bellowed as he squirmed, rolling himself tighter and tighter in the ropes. "Get me the shuck down from here, now! You slint heads better cut me loose, NOW, or so help me I'll kick the klunk outta both of you the first chance I get! I mean it!"
"Such awful language!" Minho cried, shaking his head. "If you're going to pitch a hissy fit, you really do need a time out. Although...it would be a shame to leave these two fine flags here with King Crusty, wouldn't it Newt?"
"Too right, Min. I think they'd be better off coming with us." Newt commented, really turning the screw. He plucked the first cloth from the discarded branch before reaching through the net to claim the one on Gally's person, Minho holding the swaying bundle still while Gally screeched impotently. Newt waved the flags over his head gloatingly so that Gally could see it before the two runners sprinted off into the night, laughing as the sounds of Gally's cursing threats faded behind them.
Though Newt still didn't trust the strangers – especially that arrogant woman – he had to admit he was enjoying the unexpected frivolity of the challenging game.
Gally was only the first of many casualties they found as they searched; Ben was bound to a tree, encased in so much rope he looked like a sisal grub. Peter from the kitchen was stuck up in a tree, probably having gone up looking for a better vantage point only to find himself struck by a petrifying fear of heights before he could slither back down. George lay spread eagle on the mossy ground, almost hidden by a clump of ferns, out cold with a dopey grin on his slack face. Two others were trapped in nets just as Gally had been, and still others were trussed in pairs, back to back, wandering in circles like deranged animals as they tried to break free. Minho and Newt avoided the pitfalls of their peers and were able to grab another two flags from the incapacitated gladers, bringing their combined total to seven.
The moon was kissing the top edge of the stone wall and slowly starting to slip from sight as they began heading back to the clearing, Minho eager to show off their spoils. Midway there, two of the girls silently stepped out from the bushes, appearing out of nowhere like ghosts and blocking their path. Both girls still had several flags hanging from their twine belts and the boys eyed them hopefully, contemplating how best to snatch a couple for themselves without providing an opportunity for their own flags to be taken.
The girls came towards them confidently; the boys held their ground.
Newt braced himself for an attack, his mind flipping through possible ways to fend them off and wondering if he had it in him to hit a girl. He was wondering how these delicate looking creatures had been able to neutralize so many of his fellow gladers, and was almost prepared to go on the offensive when the blonde slid her body up against him and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, shocking him to the core with the unforeseen move.
"You're the new boy." She purred in his ear, her breath tickling him as she spoke. "I'm Ashley, and I'm just...so terribly excited to meet you!"
Newt tried to lean away a little; uneasy and not sure how to handle the situation, he glanced over at Minho to gauge his reaction.
The keeper of the runners was apparently receiving the same treatment from the darker skinned girl, though he appeared to be thoroughly enjoying it. His hands freely roamed the girl's back as he gleefully took advantage of the opportunity, fully absorbed in her company. Newt felt a hand on his chest and turned his head back to look into those large, sparkling eyes.
"Come now, you must let me welcome you properly." Ashley whispered silkily, still rubbing up against him.
Newt was torn – confused as to what was going on, uneasy with the sudden affection from a stranger, and lost as to how to deal with either. She was entirely too close to him, getting more physically friendly than he was comfortable with. On the other hand he could feel his body start to respond in a kind of absent way; while the warmth and tingles of the perfectly natural reaction seemed pale and faded in comparison to what he'd felt with Addy, he couldn't deny that the reaction was still there.
Befuddled by the encounter, disoriented by his own reaction, he never saw it coming.
Ashley traced her tongue down the side of his neck, causing him to shiver involuntarily at the sensation. He looked away and, in a split second, Ashley snatched one of the flags trailing from his pocket and hooked her leg behind one of his, throwing her weight into it and sending him sprawling on the damp ground. Shaking his head to try and clear it, he heard Minho's grunt of shock as he too unceremoniously hit the dirt. Giggles rang out in stereo and rapidly fleeing footsteps sounded – two pairs of running feet, heading in opposite directions. The boys scrambled back upright but it was too late – the girls had vanished into the woods as quickly as they had appeared. Newt pulled the bright fabric strips from his pocket frantically.
"They got one of the flags!" He cried, closing the remaining pieces in a tight fist. Minho checked those he carried before letting out a gargled sound of frustration.
"Brianne hit me too! Shuck! It's almost game over! Which way did they go?!"
"Come on!" Newt urged, caught up. "They'll be heading back to the clearing; maybe we can snag them before they make it and get them back!"
Unfortunately the moon had fully dipped behind the far wall before the two runners slid to an out of breath stop at the edge of the clearing. The woman stood waiting, accompanied by a number of the captured who'd been freed from their various bindings. Judging by the sour looks on their faces they'd been released, empty handed, with just enough time to rejoin the rest for the conclusion of the event. The other players filed in steadily until, at last, all were present and accounted for. Though Newt clearly remembered that Alby had hung back to talk to the woman at the beginning of the games, he had evidently decided to join them in the search. He showed up last of all, trailed by the three girls and clutching a handful of flags, flashing a satisfied smile at the rest of the boys. Just under two thirds of the boys had been able to capture one or more of the coveted favors, and they shuffled into a crooked line to await the finale. Everyone was eager to find out who was victorious – and what the mysterious prize would be for the fortunate one.
"Hold out the cloth; we are to finding who is most worthy hunter!" Althea commanded, starting at the far end of the line, her girls waiting excitedly in a tight little huddle by the fire. She walked past each boy, calling their number out loud as she searched for the best.
"Four, yes, well done." She congratulated Zart, moving down the line. "Two only here, a good try...Five! Quick boy, clever boy." She told Jeff, who promptly went so red Newt was afraid he might pass out before a winner was even announced. Minho puffed his chest out as Althea stopped in front of him, holding out the combined effort of his and Newt's work. "Five, for keeper of runners. Very good, very strong." She eventually made it to the very end of the line where Alby stood, waiting patiently. The others leaned forward, holding their breaths as she counted.
"Eight! Eight flag! Leader truly is strongest, most clever boy!" She exclaimed, a wide, wide smile stretching across her face.
The rest of those in the running started to grumble and curse their bad luck – the contest was over, Alby the clear winner.
"It just figures." Minho muttered Newt in disgust. "If the girls hadn't caught up to us and waylaid us on the way back, we might have had time to snatch another one on the way; we could've tied! This seriously sucks. Now we – "
"I would like for two other boys, boys who have five flags to come forward." Her voice sliced off the discontent like a honed blade. Clearly stunned, Minho took a couple of steps forward, winding up standing beside a smug Alby and a baffled looking Jeff.
"It is good fit, I think, for these to be top three boys. The one who heals, the best of runners, the leader of all. Yes, these three are most worthy." She decreed, pointing to Alby first. "Eight flag, most count. Leader will get first word, first...choose?"
She made an inviting sweep of her arm, gesturing towards where the three girls stood, heads bowed demurely as they waited.
"Who is your choose?"
Alby swallowed, taking a moment to find his voice. He was glad that the light was so dim, and even more grateful for his dusky skin – otherwise, he had the feeling he'd be red as a berry right now. He looked the woman right in the eye and pitched his voice down an octave, filling the words with as much confidence and self-assurance as he could muster.
"Althea. My choice is Althea."
The watching boys gasped at the shocking statement; even the woman's face registered a moment of surprise before she composed herself, an oddly sad smile ghosting over her lips.
"Sweet boy. I am not for choosing; you are to pick from rebenok."
"I'm choosing you, Althea. You're the one I want." He assured, trying to sound as mature as possible. She shook her head, sighing a little.
"You ask what I cannot give." She chided gently, tilting her head and considering the best course of action. "Perhaps...perhaps I can give you small something, before my rebenok begin the lesson. Runner, you choose." She pointed to Minho, and even in the unreliable light of the fire red could be seen tinting his pale skin.
"I...I'll t-take Brianne." Minho managed, uncharacteristically stuttering a bit . The woman nodded, turning to Jeff.
"Healer? Who would you choose?"
"I'd like Sarah, please. If she's okay with that..." He said shyly, looking away from where the trio stood waiting.
"I'd be delighted." Sarah replied softly, smiling warmly at the nervous boy.
"And so Ashley is for leader." Althea confirmed with finality as the girls approached the three chosen boys, each moving to stand by their designated male. She stopped Ashley for a moment, leaning in to speak to Alby quietly, apology in her eyes.
"Is not...is not what you want, but I will give you...little taste. I cannot give you bigger one."
She took Alby's hand and led him towards the edge of the clearing, gently positioning him so that he was leaning against a wide tree while Sarah and Brianne did the same with Jeff and Minho. She ran her fingers over the leader's shoulders and took his face in her hands, pressing her body against his and inclining her head, kissing him deeply. Alby's arms came up around her, his hands running softly up and down her back as he basked in the feeling of embracing her.
The tone of the kiss was for more sensual than the blistering encounters he'd experienced from her before; a slow burn instead of the firestorm of sensations he'd expected. Her thumbs stroked his face softly, as though she were trying to console him – or apologize for something. He tried to shift the tone to something more serious but she released him, stepping out of his grip before he could stop her. Ashley instantly took her place.
"Althea..."
"Please, ask no more of me. You are not needing me now – I am not to be staying for this." She nodded to the girls, patiently waiting. "You are to begin next lesson. You know how to do." She turned and walked away into the trees, her darkly draped form disappearing into the shadows in the blink of an eye. The waiting gladers jostled uneasily, confused by the woman's abrupt and unexplained departure. The girls moved first, each kissing their respective partner enthusiastically before flashing a wide expectant grin and licking their lips as they dropped to their knees.
Newt watched as the three victors were chosen, puzzling over what 'big payoff' had whipped the others into such a frenzy over the game.
He didn't get it when the woman had each boy pick a partner.
He didn't get it when she got all cuddly and touchy-feely with Alby.
He really didn't get it when the woman left.
But the sight of the three girls kneeling before the guys, the ridiculously loud sound of three zippers being simultaneously opened in the stunned hush, the resulting gasps and groans from his friends...
A light bulb went on in the back of his head as he finally figured it out, the peculiarity of the whole situation making him wonder if he was actually tucked safely into his own hammock, caught in the grips of a really odd dream. He felt a little uncomfortable watching something so explicitly personal happening, and even more so when he felt his body start to react to the sight.
He glanced sideways at the other guys, spread out and watching the action with mesmerized looks on their faces. After the three girls were finished with the chosen few they began to move through the rest, kissing them and rubbing up against them, fondling them through their pants until each had been gratified in turn. They moved through the crowd, dealing with the gladers one by one in a disciplined and orderly fashion.
When they reached him it was the blonde who once again pressed up against him, and a combination of both excitement and nerves fluttered in his stomach.
"I hope there's no hard feelings about before?" She asked, batting her eyelashes as her hands roamed his body. "It was just part of the game, after all. I introduced myself earlier but we really didn't have the chance to get fully acquainted. I can make it up to you." She purred, capturing one of his hands and guiding it to her waist. "We've got all the time in the world, now."
She leaned in and kissed him.
He felt her lips moving against his, felt her hand moving down his body and nearing his groin. He pulled away abruptly, breaking the kiss with a shaky gasp.
"Wait! Stop." He choked out, his heart thrumming like a bird's wings in his chest. He couldn't untangle the emotion, couldn't tell if it was exhilaration or fear or lust or panic. "I'm...I don't..."
She froze instantly, her teasing smile softening into something far more kind.
"I don't think I can do this." He blurted, not looking at her. She eased away until their bodies were no longer touching, leaving only her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
"Hey, it's alright." She whispered, rubbing his upper arm in a comforting way. "If you're not ready for this, that's okay. We'll try again next time - if you want to. Maybe you'll be ready then. If not, that's okay too. "
She gave him an bolstering pat, and moved on to the next boy without another word.
After taking a moment to compose himself, Newt walked off into the brush and left the others to their fun. He strolled along slowly, taking the time to cool down and try to absorb the implications of the evening. A couple of ideas swam fuzzily in his muddled head, and without actively thinking about it his feet followed a familiar route.
Adrian peeled the layers of Althea off efficiently, intent on shedding the costume (and persona) as quickly as possible. He stowed away the clothing and wig, washed away the colors and creams on his face and pulled on his own well worn jeans, trying to shake off the melancholy that was forcibly creeping up on him.
He hadn't arrived planning on making friends or getting so emotionally invested in the gladers, but here he was. He cared about the guys and, while not a leader nor interested in becoming one, felt responsible for them now. He was driven more and more every day by the strong desire to make things better for them – not just to ensure their survival, but to try and make life in the glade worth living while they fought to find a way out. He watched their efforts with pride and celebrated their victories, however small and simple they might appear to others. He silently cheered them on, racking his brain for ways to boost morale and productivity, to inspire perseverance and hope. In a profoundly elemental way, they were ALL connected now. He flopped down on the bed, shirtless, determined to be comfortable while he waited for the girls to finish up and return. The silence gave him plenty of time for contemplation, which didn't help his mood.
The two gladers he respected most, the two he was the fondest of both sought something from him that he could not – would not – give. They were supposed to turn their affections towards the obviously willing 'girls' he'd worked to make available to them, but both remained stubbornly enamored with either him or 'Althea', despite the other more age appropriate options. The refusal to seek affection from a more sensible source was going to cause nothing but frustration for all involved, and had already produced a a plethora of difficulties. He had reminded Newt two days ago that they could still remain friends, but judging from the strained silence that had persisted between them since, the man didn't truly expect the boy to accept the offer. Now he'd refused the leader as well, and in full view of the rest of the boys, no less. It highly probable that tonight's denial would raise a certain level of animosity between them, making their daily interaction difficult or down right uncomfortable. His rejection was responsible for putting a serious crack in both friendships and, while it may have been unavoidable, knowing he'd hurt his young friends made him feel like an utter bastard.
He plugged his earphones in, hoping that zoning out with the music for a while would allow him to find some clarity about how best to deal with the whole mess. A funky two chord beat played, and he wondered (not for the first time) if his little player had a mind of its own. If it did, it was a malicious little jackass.
.
You keep dreaming and dark scheming
Yeah, you do
You're a poison and I know that is the truth
All my friends think you're vicious
And they say you're suspicious
You keep dreaming and dark scheming
.
Yeah, you do
.
I feel like I'm drowning
I'm drowning
You're holding me down and
Holding me down
You're killing me slow
So slow, oh-no
I feel like I'm drowning
I'm drowning
.
You're so plastic and that's tragic
Just for you
I don't know what the hell you gonna do
When your looks start depleting
And your friends all start leaving
You're so plastic and that's tragic
.
Just for you
.
You're not helping, here, he thought bitterly as the accusations all but burned his ears. He switched the player off, stuffing it away and muttering vague threats at it under his breath. He went back to staring at the ceiling in silence, letting his eyes drift to half mast and attempting to empty his mind by will alone.
Someone pounded at the door.
"Yeah, it's open." He called out, not bothering to get up. Rolling his eyes, he tucked his hands under the back of his head and spoke in a more normal voice. "Jesus, since when do you knock?"
"Addy."
The man sat up hurriedly, swiveling to place his feet square on the floor so he could face the boy.
"Hey kid. What's up?"
"Just, y'know, figured I'd stop by..." Newt said a little awkwardly. "Who doesn't knock?"
"Most of you guys, actually." Adrian lied easily, smoothly avoiding a direct answer. "Some days I wonder why I bothered putting one in at all. Anyway...what brings you to my humble abode?"
"I wanted to...I didn't see you at tonight's...activities." Newt changed course mid sentence.
"Not my cup of tea." The man answered casually, flicking a hand to wave it off. "I'm shy."
Newt snorted at that, a half grin sliding on to his face. He shuffled his feet for a moment before making a decision and pulling up a chair.
"I've been thinking." He stated hesitantly. "You said...you said we could still be friends. Even though you...although I..."
"We can be." Adrian said calmly, a warm little trickle of relief starting in his chest. "I'd like to think we are. Just because things don't always work out the way you want them to," Adrian reminded, "doesn't mean that everything's lost. I won't get physical with you, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to spend time with you or that I don't enjoy your company."
"It'll be different though. Won't it be weird?" Newt said cautiously, Adrian emphatically shaking his head before the boy could finish the statement.
"Not from my side. We'll hang out, work together, whatever. My feelings for you haven't changed, kid. You're still Sally, maze runner extraordinaire, asker of endless questions ."
"And you're still Mary", Newt retorted, comfortably falling back into their old easy wordplay. "Maker of tasty baked goods and king of half-arsed sarcasm."
Adrian chuckled, infecting Newt into a light laugh of his own as some of the weight he'd been carrying fell away. Maybe Adrian was right. Maybe they really could get back to being friends.
"I should head back, it's been a bloody long day." Newt said, rising. The man nodded agreeably, watching the boy go. "...see you at breakfast?" He offered tentatively, pausing at the door.
"Yeah, see you then. Save me a seat."
Newt shot a bright smile over his shoulder before heading off towards his bed, the simple offhand statement doing more to comfort him than a thousand promises ever could.
Breakfast the next morning was blessedly uneventful. Adrian strolled over and sat down with Newt's usual crew as though nothing had happened between them and, despite the frigidity of Minho's distrustful glare, the meal proceeded without any undue drama. If there were a few awkward moments here and there they were quickly banished by bad jokes and good-natured bickering as the old pattern reasserted itself.
Newt's overall mood and demeanor improved at once; maybe he wasn't as mindlessly cheerful as he'd been directly after his initial encounter with the man, but at the very least he appeared to have returned to his normal outgoing, pre-conflict self. His muttering and moping were things of the past, much to the vast relief of those around him.
A week passed, and events in the glade remained almost pastorally dull. Adrian was up to his elbows in wet cement, smoothing out the new counter tops in the cook hut when the blaring box alarm went off, shaking the ground under his feet. He rolled his shoulders to ease the suddenly tense muscles and focused on his task – if he didn't get the counters finished today, Frypan would most likely try to roast him for tomorrow's dinner. Alec and Stephen, working with him on this project, cast curious, longing looks through the open door. The man sighed.
"Fine, go have a look then. Just get your asses back here asap, we need to get this done today."
They both bolted off, leaving Adrian with a little uninterrupted time to focus exclusively on getting a perfectly flat surface. Smoothing, leveling, adjusting – and painfully aware that Frypan was displeased with losing full use of his kitchen, and had plenty of access to a variety of very sharp knives - he had absolutely no desire to waste time gawking at the newest unfortunate addition to the glade.
The sloppers trouped back in shortly and Newt, free from running for the day with the expected delivery, poked his head in the door as well.
"Hey Addy. Didn't want a look at the new greenie?"
"Hands are a bit full here, kid. I'll do the meet and greet with him later...if I can ever get this shuckin' finished."
"You should have seen him." Alec snickered, removing a form and checking the stability of the new sink. "Crying like a baby, snifflin' and snortin' and whining. Jeez."
Even being fully aware that the words were a coping mechanism and not particularly malicious, Adrian couldn't stop himself from rising to the bait.
"And I'm sure," Adrian said drily, "that you popped out of the box bright eyed and bushy tailed, strong and confident, ready to take on the world."
"He took one look at us and squealed like a piglet, latching on to the metal grates like a lifeline." Newt laughed, "It took three of us to pry him loose."
"Hey!"
They all shared a laugh at that image, and Alec's indignation at the description.
"He'll come around, given a little time." Adrian stated easily, flexing his cramping hands. "You guys will find a place for him, give him a job. Having something productive to do'll keep his spirits up, help him hold on to hope."
"Hope?" Newt asked quizzically, not understanding the turn of the conversation.
"Of course." Adrian affirmed, hauling another heavy bucket of cement to the next counter with a grunt. "Hope keeps you running. If you lose hope, you give in, give up. The trick is holding on to it. As long as you're breathing, there's always hope. For instance, I hope I can get this mess squared away before Frypan comes back in to check and starts breathing down my neck."
"Huh." Newt said thoughtfully, ducking out of the building and heading off to handle other matters. He let the concept circle around in his head as he went about his day, trying to figure out exactly what the man had meant. He'd never thought about the importance of hope before, but he was giving it some serious consideration now.
Author's note ~ The song featured in this chapter is Feel Like I'm Drowning by Two Feet
See you next chapter!
~Ruby