When Crick stopped screaming, running footsteps could be heard in the hall. Seconds later, Newt and Alby burst in the room, each of them wielding a knife. Both of them found Crick with their eyes. He was flailing wildly, eyes still trapped closed. "Crick!" Alby half-shouted, hardly caring about the other sleeping Gladers. Still, Crick flailed.
"Crick!" Newt repeated Alby's shout. This, however, had a different effect. Crick almost immediately calmed, and his eyes opened. He looked alarmed, and scared.
"Newt?" Crick asked, in a voice quieter than a whisper.
"I'm here." Newt said quietly, keeping his eyes on him. Crick's eyes found Alby. The leader looked back at him, eyes disapproving.
"You ill or something?" Alby asked. Crick shook his head, glancing at Newt.
"No... Sorry, it was a nightmare." Crick mumbled, ashamedly. Suddenly, he realised how stupid the situation was. He's there. You can see him. He's safe. He told himself. "It won't happen again." He promised, eyes concentrated on the floor. Alby frowned and looked between the two, Newt's eyes still on Crick.
"Alright. Get some sleep, and don't be screaming everyone awake again." Alby said, then walked out. Newt rounded on Crick.
"What the shuck was that, Crick?" Newt asked, eyes scanning him in concern. And so Crick told him.

Newt blinked, as the story ended. "W-Wow." He said, rather simply. He shook away his surprise and smiled. "It's only a dream... We've all had nightmares." He smiled softly.
Crick wasn't smiling. "Don't go into the Maze." He said softly.
"I'm a Runner. I kinda have to." Newt chuckled, though his gaze seemed serious. "I'll be fine, I promise."
Crick looked away. "Newt, I..." He trailed off, and simply put his head on Newt's shoulder. Newt smiled softly and nodded.
"I know." He mumbled. They looked at one another again, and another kiss was shared, a quick, sharp peck, but a kiss nonetheless. Newt stood. "I think I need to go... Alby will be wondering."
Crick nodded, looking down. Newt looked at him hesitantly, and turned away. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, then walked out.

Crick didn't need to wake up the next day. There was no chance of him getting any sleep. Newt infested his thoughts and, every time he closed his eyes, even to blink, he saw him stepping into the Maze as the doors closed. Crick got up sluggishly, still fully clothed and rested his head in his hands for a while. He looked outside, and saw other Gladers getting up. He walked through the Homestead, and out into the Glade. It was crisp and chilly outside, but Crick didn't shiver. He looked about the Glade, something new in his mind. It felt like a numbness, a nothingness in his brain. It felt... Pointless. There was no point to it. Crick dropped his head, and stared at the floor. He shook his head and smiled softly. And he walked. He kept walking, until he was surrounded by a thick bushel of trees. Then, he walked through, until he found the clearing containing the graves. It was quiet. Crick sat and stared at the markers, names springing out to him. He'd been here since near the start, one of the first individual boys to come up in the Box. He recognised most of the names, though some of them were lost to him. He looked at the shrewd, wooden crosses, and sighed. He remembered these boys. They'd lived and died inside the Glade, from illness or accidents or, in the Runners' cases, Grievers. He sat like that for a while, revelling in the quiet.

"I thought you might be here." A voice reached Crick's ears, and he jumped. He turned to see Newt.
"Did you?" Crick asked, smiling softly.
Newt nodded. "Yep." He said. Newt looked around the clearing. "But why are you here? Everyone's looking for you."
Crick sighed softly. "I needed to get away." He said, rather quietly. Crick looked at Newt. "If they found out... About us, I don't know what would happen." Crick looked away, feeling embarassed.
"But I don't think I care, Newt." Newt looked at him for a second, pondering what to say. However, whatever it would be, Crick once again spoke. "I love you, shuckface."
"I..." Newt paused, looking at Crick. He knew how he felt about him, but he'd never dreamed Crick would ever say it. "I love you too." The words sounded alien coming out of his mouth, though they sounded pleasant to him. Crick smiled softly, and leant his head on Newt's shoulder. The two sat like that for a while, not a word being said between them. Newt didn't share Crick's feelings towards the openness he'd suggested. He knew how people would react. He knew it wouldn't be good. People would never accept it... Never accept them. People like Gally and his crew, they might react violently. The second-in-command couldn't be seen to be romantically linked with anyone. If it had been a girl, maybe... But there were no girls. Only boys, boys who were likely to bigoted. All this hit him too fast, and he plastered on a smile as Crick turned to face him.

They went back into the Glade soon after, after making Crick look a little beaten up. Alby and Gally were the first to see them. "Where the hell have you two slintheads been?" Alby asked angrily.
"I fell." Crick sighed. "Hit my head... Must have fallen unconscious." He found it hard to keep Alby's gaze. He hoped that the leader wouldn't notice.
"I found him near the Deadheads. He was in a bad way." Newt looked at Alby. "Figured I should stay with him." Newt sounded convincing, though he was staying as far away from Crick as possible.
"Really?" Gally asked, looking at Crick. "He looks fine."
"I just took a little bump." Crick shrugged, avoiding all gazes. "I'm fine." He mumbled.
"Hmm... Go to the Medjacks. They'll check you out... Newt, you should have left by now." Alby looked at the other boy, clearly annoyed. "There's no point you leaving now..." He turned to them both. "Actually, shuck it. You're both in the Pit for a night, starting as soon as we get this slinthead checked out." He nodded at Crick.

Soon, they were in the Pit together. The night was wearing on. And that was the night everything changed.