Hey guys, I'm back from a brief hiatus. So this is a while after Thomas and the others escape the world to their Paradise, as I like to call it, and try to start a new life there. The Builders have built a civilization of huts, beds and makeshift furniture. Frypan has his own kitchen. Everybody is slowly gaining normality. Minho, however, is haunted by dreams that he doesn't want to share. He is stone-faced during the day but his heart is breaking during the night. Here is a little segment of that~

Love, Courtney.

P.S. Enjoy delicate!Minho

She hears quiet sobs and it awakens her from her own restless sleep. She opens her eyes and the thatched grass roof of the tent comes into focus slowly. A slight breeze rustles the loosest parts of the ceiling and she takes a deep breath- did she really hear anything? Or was she imagining?

She rolls over on the makeshift cot, the woven cotton sheets kissing her skin. Minho lies there, his eyes still closed, still sleeping, with tears gathering on his cheeks. He frowns and gasps and grunts, living through whatever nightmare his mind has concocted. She wants to reach for him but the last time she woke him from a nightmare she ended up with a black eye. He thought she was a part of the illusion and struck out at her. He has never forgiven himself for it.

"Minho," she whispers, staying a safe distance from him. He flinches at his name, and she thinks he may be awake, but then he sobs again, drawn back into the nightmare. "Baby," she wouldn't call him that if he were awake.

"I'll kill you!" he gasps suddenly, startling her so much she jerks away, backs up a little bit. His eyes remain closed but now he has a look of sheer pain on his face and it's breaking her heart. His eyebrows are creased, his lips quivering, shaking moans hissing from his body. She hasn't seen him experience a nightmare this bad since Thomas told him about Newt.

She decides to calm him down, despite the possibility of accidentally being hit again. She inches closer to him and wraps her hands around his tightly balled fists pressed against his chest. He resists, trying to pull them away or retaliate or both. She doesn't give him enough room to act against her. "Wake up." She says sternly. Still sleeping. "Minho, wake up." She commands, shoving their entwined hands against his chest, jolting him awake. His eyes snap open and he comes back to reality, every trace of him ever being in distress is gone.

He lets out a shaky breath, as if he wants to say something but can't. She moves closer to him until they are aligned, so every section of their bodies touching: stomachs, arms, thighs, legs, and feet. She feels the strong muscles under his shirt contract when he breathes in and shudder when he breathes out. She tilts her head toward his so their foreheads touch. She feels his soft, warm breath on her nose and in that moment he reminds her of an ordinary boy. Just a normal kid who has suffered loss or heartbreak and has time and rest to heal his heart, instead of the boy he is- the one who deals with tragedy by moving on too soon.

"What was it?" she whispers against his cheek.

"Nothing new," he replies, strong and sure.

"The Maze?"

"Yeah, The Maze. And Chuck. Alby. Teresa. Newt," he acts as if it isn't fazing him. As if he hadn't reacted to the nightmare the way he did.

"Did you see them die?" she prods, which is a bad idea. She knows she should shut up but can't bring herself to do it. He needs to talk to someone and he has shied away from Thomas recently, leaving only Julie to pick up the pieces.

He swallows hard and closes his eyes. "Yes," he says. She wants to say something to help him, to mend him, but he adds something else. "And I was the one killing them,"

"What?"

"I drove a knife through Chuck. I threw Alby to the Grievers. I tripped Teresa when she was running through the warehouse. I made sure that shank Newt wasn't Immune…" his voice cracks and he is unable to finish the sentence. She holds him closer and if it were possible to merge two bodies by simply squashing them together, Minho and Julie would be one.

"Listen to me," she whispers, and at the sound of her delicate voice he starts shaking, tears rolling freely down his scarred cheeks. She feels his tears against her own skin as if they were hers, as if they were dripping down from her own eyes. "I haven't been sure of much in my short life. For a while there I thought I had freedom. I thought the Maze was home. I was wrong. But I am sure of this: I love you, Minho. And I'm never, ever, ever going to leave."

He remains still, hardly breathing. "I love you too," he replies to her relief. "I've known it for a while now. Ever since you fought against WICKED in that stupid warehouse," he pauses. "All I want is you."

"All I want is you too," she whispers back. They twine their fingers together and hold on tight. "You make me forget,"

"Forget what?"

"The nightmares,"