The Labyrinth: Chapter Thirteen


I remember it being cold. Something that filled every part of my body. And the feeling of drifting.

Just being present. Nothing more, nothing less. Almost peaceful. No sound snuck through the cracks, no light penetrated the walls. It was myself, the cold and the feeling of drifting.

Then the rushing pounded in my ears, almost the sound of water thrusting me along. The cold washed away, replaced by a fiery pain that erupted deep below. It circulated upwards until it sat prominent high up, bounding, making its presence known. The darkness struggled against the ray of light bursting through, it retreating to the furthest corners.

Until, the light fully replaced the darkness and I was awake on my bed with a pounding headache and a very dry throat.

A groan. That was all that I could let out. A loud long groan that showed how much pain I was in.

Why did this always happen?

I shifted my head to the side, the motion a great effort on my part. I was in my room, the same bare walls, little window and small table. Two chairs had joined the area, but nothing seemed odd about the place.

Maybe I had just dreamt everything. Somehow passed out from exhaustion the other day and dreamt the whole thing up. That made far more sense. There was no way that everything from last night actually happened. It was impossible. No one survived in the Maze.

I moved my arms from my chest and rubbed grogginess away from my eyes. It was weird that they had let me sleep in. Newt usually woke me just as the sun came up, not when it was fully bright.

Something wasn't right.

I heaved my head from the pillow, my neck stiff from the night sleep, and rested myself up on my elbows. Everything felt stiff. Not juts my legs. Getting to a seated position hurt a lot more than yesterday.

Then I saw it as the sheet covering me fell away.

The white shirt I had been wearing was not … white.

There were red splotches on it. And dirt. And weird coloured marks.

That wasn't a dream.

I grabbed a hold of the sheet closed my eyes and gently nudged it from the bed. I heard the sheet fall to the ground. I was too scared to see it. If my shirt really was dirty, then if that was real. Then all of it was real. And I really went out there. I really went through it.

Get a grip. You're back.

Fine. I opened my eyes and saw one leg completely fine, the other. Well. It was hidden under a mass of bandages that tightly bound itself round my ankle. The pain. A dull throb against everything else. Somehow it was not as bad as it was out in the Maze. How long that would last, well only time would tell.

A click at the door caught my attention. In this place, it seemed that having a moment to yourself didn't really exist. It had barely been two minutes when Clint burst through the door with several bandages slung over his shoulder and a bowl of water in his hand. He leant up against the door and seemed to almost smile when he saw me.

"I knew I heard something," he said to me or himself. I wasn't sure. He hooked the nearest chair with his foot and dragged it toward him. He secured it in front of the door as a weight, placed the bowl of water on the seat and padded inside. "So, how you feeling?"

"I ... uh," I stuttered. I was at a lost for words. I collected myself, picking up the sheet from the floor to give me time to think. "What happened?" I asked him instead. There was literally nothing coming to mind apart from that question.

"Minho and Thomas bought you back from the Maze, but apart from their story they won't say much about yours."

"Oh." I was surprised. I was sure that Minho would start a brigade against me for all the 'lies' I had told him. It seemed almost certain that it would happen. "I just don't remember what happened."

Clint eyed me. Anyone could tell that there was more to that statement then I was letting on. "Hmm … well I'm not the only one you have to convince."

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

Clint ignored me and went to inspect the bandages. He fiddled with a piece, yanking them together between his fingers. Possibly to tighten them. "Clean break. I think. Not much I can see but could tell the way that the bone stuck out. I can't do much for you. I gave ya some stuff to help with the pain, but we can't use anymore of it. So after that wears off, you'll be stuck to the old-fashioned kind."

"Why can't I have more of that stuff?"

Clint shrugged. "The Creators wrote on the box that it was for emergencies. Not to be used more than once or death. We only have a couple, and it worked on Newt's ankle so I'm guessing it'll do the same for you."

"Will I have a limp now?" I questioned him.

"That's up to you." Clint stood from the floor and crossed the room. "I'll get you some painkillers and food."

He turned to back out the door. He paused before as he grabbed the bowl. He turned to face me. "Just so you know, whatever happened out there, it's over. Rest."

Clint moved the chair out from the door and stepped out when someone barged past him, slamming him against the door frame, into the room. Clint yelped, the bowl in his hand crashing to the floor, spilling its contents all over the place. "Watch it Newt," Clint barked as he shoved him away and grabbed the bowl. "More warning next time." He grumbled a few more words under his breath and shut the door forcefully behind him.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Or somersault, backflip. Sorry what? It's just … my thoughts … they stopped when he was there. Those dark brown eyes delving into mine with emotion so raw I felt like I would end up drowning from it. Those pale-tinged lips slightly parted, his breath slow but firm.

"You're awake," he breathed, his shoulders lowered as he said this. Without even time to process, he rushed from the other side of the room and pulled me into a hug. My arms dangled beside me. The air escaped me the moment his chest collided with mine.

The air …

I couldn't get it back in no matter how much I tried …

I wasn't short of any … it was just …

"I'm just so glad you're alive."

my cheeks flushed

I swear they were going red

the tingle.

Stop it. Right now!

Newt must have sensed something as he pulled away. I dropped back onto my elbows and hid my face. He couldn't see me like this.

"I'm sorry," he flustered. Newt backed away and sat on the furthest chair away from me. I let out a long breath of air and did my best to compose myself. I knew I had been hugged before, that wasn't an unfamiliar sensation, but I knew for certain I had never been hugged like that.

"Are you alright?" Newt asked all the way from his chair.

"Fine," I answered still trying to hide my face from him. "Are you?"

"Yeah." Newt softly replied.

"Good." I said awkwardly.

A thick silence filled the air between us; the only sounds heard were the soft noises of Gladers finishing their work for the day. I managed small peeks to Newt, who had taken the same approach to me and found the floor the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. Oh. My. God! Oh. My. God! What do I say to him? One slip-up and everything …

Get a grip.

"Did you get Alby down alright?" I asked, trying to make a conversation.

"Yeah, we got him down," Newt said, still looking away from me. "Thomas did quite a job of gettin' him up there. We had trouble gettin' him down. Clint's given him the Serum. He's a lucky shank if you ask me."

I hummed in agreement. There was nothing more I could think of to say.

"And Clint says that your ankle probably isn't a bad break, so you might heal better than mine." He laughed out of nervousness. I simply nodded again. The room again filled with silence. I fumbled with my fingers. Resting on my elbows had become uncomfortable, so I lifted myself up completely into a seated position and moved my legs until the fell over the edge. At least in a seated position, everything would be less … awkward.

As soon as Newt saw me do this, he jumped forward bringing the chair with him as he came. He grabbed the pillow from the bed and placed it on the seat. He went to lift me leg when he stopped himself. He glanced up, then carefully lifted my broken leg with his hands. I didn't cringe away when he did this, which he seemed to notice.

He stood standing for a moment, then grabbed the other spare chair in the room and joined me. He was closer now. So close I swear I heard his heart thumping in his body. Or was that mine? What was getting into me? Why was I acting like this?

Newt occupied himself with playing with his hands. His thumbs intertwining with each other as neither of us knew what to say.

I lied.

We both knew what to say. It just was a very big elephant in the room. A topic neither were ready to approach, but sure needed too.

"Nervous–" I started.

"Why were you in the Maze?" Newt cut in before I could even finish.

I sucked in a breath. There it was. The dreaded question. I turned my whole body away and stared out the window into the sky.

"Clarke, we have to know," Newt insisted. I felt his warm eyes burn a hole into the side of my head. The awkwardness that I had felt earlier, well this was a different kind. How was I going to explain to him what happened when I barely understood it myself?

"I don't know … it just happened."

"There must have been a reason for it."

I refused to answer him. I sensed Newt shuffle to the edge of his seat. "You screamed Clarke. For me. You sounded terrified. Why were you there?"

"I'm telling you," I snapped and faced him dead on. "I don't know. What don't you lot understand about that?" I cowered my head at the reaction. I had never spoken to someone like that, let alone have that kind of reaction before. I rubbed my hands together and roughly fixed whisps of hair behind my ears. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. My chest felt heavy, I swear tears threatened to fall. "If I could, I would explain it. I don't know how too. It's not like any of you would believe me anyway. Minho made that certain."

Silence. There it was again in the room. Awkward silence that filled the space between us.

My heart hammered against my rip-cage so loud that I thought he could hear it from over there.

I fiddled with my hands, too the end of my braid. I slammed my hands on the bed. The only thing I could think of to get out of this situation was to leave. In the moment of madness, I lifted myself off the bed rising on my good leg. Luckily, Newt had the good thinking of grasping my shoulders and gently forcing me back down onto the bed.

"It's okay," he reassured me the tone of his voice shifting. "It's happened. The important thing is that you're still alive."

"Thanks." I sniffed and used the end of my shirt to wipe away the snot. At the sound of his words, it felt like the weight had been lifted of my shoulders. I had felt awful. The knowing that everyone thought bad of me. They were the words that I needed most to hear. "I was so scared. I thought I was going to die." I covered my face with my hands to stop him from seeing me cry.

"You came back, you did the impossible thing." Newt rubbed his hand over my back. "No one has managed to do it. Not even me. You're incredible."

I peeked up from my hands. "Really? I don't feel like it."

"Well, you look rubbish. But you have far more courage in you than most here."

I sat up straight and smiled at him. Newt returned it, his eyes glistening in the sunlight.

"I never gave up on you. I knew there was something about you that wouldn't just die out there."

I grasped Newt's hands in mine and squeezed them, whilst still smiling at him. "Thank you, I mean it. I needed that."

And then Newt kissed me.

Holding my hand against his chest, his other hand sliding across my neck, his touch feathery soft turning everything inside me to rubber. It probably seemed peaceful from the outside world, but my insides were rioting. Something strange happened in my chest, like my heart breaking open and spilling heat into my body, tingling through my limbs. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples that lingered on his mouth. I wound my hands into his hair, as I'd wanted to do since the first time I'd seen him. His golden hair curled around my fingers, silky and fine. My heart hammered in my body, and there was burning sensation that electrified every one of my nerve endings. I gasped in pain and broke away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Newt spluttered. His leg knocked the chair from under my leg, sending it flying to the floor. I heard a crunch followed by a sharp intake of air. "Oh. My. God. I'm so sorry."

I battered his hands away, screwing my eyes shut to try and get control of the pain. Air hissed out of my lips as my breathing quickened. "Just. Get. My. Leg. Up," I hissed at him through the pain. He listened and immediately hoisted it up and swung me round until I lay flat on the bed again.

I barely opened my eyes when the door swung open with Clint standing in the doorway. "What is going on?" he demanded.

Newt sprung from the floor and shoved Clint back, slamming the door in the process.

"I am not done, come back later," he shouted through the door.

"You have one minute Newt, I need to give her meds and she needs sleep," he shouted back at him.

Newt crossed the room and kneeled down beside me, his face red with fluster.

"That was the smoothest thing I've ever seen," I giggled.

"You making jokes now?" Newt questioned with a smile on his face. I couldn't help but smile at him. And once a smile marked my face, he smiled back. We both stared at each other for a few seconds, smiles on our faces, before we erupted into fits of laughter like crazy people.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Newt admitted, his smile slightly fading. "Ever since I first saw you. You don't know why but I feel like I've always known you." He lifted his hand and brushed a stray piece of hair from my face, putting it behind my ear. His fingers lingered a moment longer behind my ear, before he lightly brushed them against the side of my jawline. Electrifying twinges erupted from his soft touch, my nerve endings exploding into flames. His brown eyes twinkled in the fading sunlight, illuminating with a happiness that seemed too not have been there before.

He leaned in once more to hastily kiss me, both trying to savour the moment that would surely be interrupted again. "I would kiss you for longer," Newt spoke, his lips still firmly pressed to mine. "But, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stop. And I'm sure you don't want to be centre of gossip."

We stared at each other for a little longer, his hands intertwined with mine. "Promise me one thing?"

"What?" I whispered.

"Promise me you'll never do anything like that again. I couldn't bare the pain."

"I promise."

His deep eyes stared into me. "I'll keep you safe," he promised. "I said I would the first time, I mean it now."

We pulled back the moment Clint opened the door to demand that he would leave the room. Newt agreed, and quickly was ushered out, the door slamming behind him.

"One thing for sure," Clint started, walking over to the side of my bed, eyeing the creases on the sheets. "He's much happier now then he was twenty minutes ago."