"Stars are beautiful." a little girl read, her pudgy hands gliding across the colorfully illustrated page. The image was littered with specks of red, blue, and white stars. They were certainly not the real thing, but she was enthralled all the same. "But they may not take part in anything, they must look on forever. Second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning."

Her thumb was already itching under the next page when the book was promptly removed from her lap. She frowned, ready to protest until a stern looking man gave a warning look. "Playtime is over." and he placed her bookmark inside her novel, placing it on the desk.

"Can I at least finish the next page?" she whined, biting her cheeks in annoyance.

"No." the man replied, unfazed. He leaned forward to meet her eye level, close enough for her to detect the putrid smell of garlic in his mouth. She winced. "Now, you have a choice." he always asked that, every day after every meal. "You can either go solve puzzles with Thomas downstairs, or play tennis with Minho-oppa upstairs."

Her answer was natural, automatic. "Puzzles with Thomas."

He stood, "Very well. Follow me."

She followed him, flattening out her daisy-painted dress down the hallways and into the elevator. Entrance to: Specialization Floor it said. There were over two dozen rooms, each equal in size and parallel to each other. Thomas got his own room, and she was always eager to find him, because he had all sorts of colorful puzzles and word searches in his room. He didn't complain like the others, and she was thankful for that. They had it good here, even if they didn't know what or where here was, they were clothed and fed.

Others weren't so compliant. Halfway down the hall she heard the high child's voice, a boy, fussing about. Abusing the tables, and banging his fists against the linoleum. His words were strange, and too adult to come out of such a young mouth.

"I bloody hate this place."

"Rise and shine, darling." although there wasn't an ounce of audible affection in the greeting. A hand vigorously shook her shoulder, and when she wouldn't relent the covers were stripped from her body, the cool air biting at her bare legs.

She moaned, and hugged herself whilst stuffing her face in the mattress. "You, you said I could sleep here!" she whined, her voice muffled from the pillow.

"I lied." the voice said simply, "c'mon, we don't have much time."

Strong, slender arms scooped her small frame, trying to bring her to her feet. But the girl was quicker, and automatically latched herself against the warm body, pressing her face to his neck. It was still dark, and she was very, very annoyed, but too exhausted to yell. "Come back to bed." she whispered tiredly. She didn't mean for it to sound so sensual, but how could it not, with her lips grazing against his Adam's apple and her hands grazing at the neck of his attractively messy bedhead.

The boy sighed, "I wish we could." and slowly inched her to the floor, she reluctantly complied, standing straight. "Hurry, go put on your shoes. And take this, you'll need the energy."

"Newt, why—" her question was cut off when he pressed an apple slice to her lips, and she opened her mouth in confusion, the tart juice filling her mouth.

"Let's go." and he took her hand, leading her out the Homestead.

It was still early, way too early in the morning. The sky was dark, illuminated by the minuscule fire torches and gas lamps throughout the Glade. The only ones awake were Theo and Newt. Theo frustratedly slapped the mosquitoes that were hungry for her blood, and quickly tied away her hair. "What are we doing out here?" she yawned.

Instead of answering, he pointed to the ground. "Push-ups, go."

"What?"

"If you don't want to be killed when the Grievers chase us in the Maze, you'll do push-ups." anything remotely affectionate was absent from Newt, his gaze hard. "That's what you want, right? To stay alive."

And suddenly, Theo understood what he was getting at. He wasn't speaking theoretically when he said he was going to make her train. He was going to be strict and hard on her, so she'll survive. And she did want to stay alive, she wanted the both of them alive. Wordlessly, she dropped to the ground and did ten push-ups. Newt snapped that her posture was too lax, and asked for another ten more.

"Run, run to the West Gate and back to me." he ordered before she had gotten up. "You have six minutes."

"But—"

"Five minutes, then."

Theo swallowed her tongue, and immediately complied, breaking in a sprint. Her throat burned like hell on the way back, but she kept her mouth shut.

"You took eight minutes." Newt stated. "Go again, keep your back straight. Light on your feet."

Oh, at that moment, he was really good at detaching himself from her. It only encouraged her to do more, if it helped any. But she was starting to breathe like a fish out of water, as if her lungs were cut open and deflated. She took another lap, and when she came back, Newt was taking his outer shirt off.

"Ten minutes." he said. "Match my pace."

It was amazing, and possibly shameful, that even with his limp he could still move faster than her. She grit her teeth so hard, she wouldn't surprised if her enamel weared into dust. She couldn't think, and every time she'd push forward she'd be knocked two steps back, Newt always four steps ahead. The ground elevated, or maybe it was too dark for her to notice, and she lost her footing, and landed face first in the dirt. Sweat smacked her back and lower legs, her knees brown with grime. She groaned, feeling the rocks dig into her skin, her chest tender and raw.

Newt crouched in front of her, his face devoid of compassion. "If you were out in that bloody Maze and fell, just like that, you would already be dead." he said icily, and ran ahead of her.

Back and forth, back and forth. From the Homestead to the West Wall. The Maze wasn't a straight line, and she realized this was all being done on purpose. Finally, Theo decided she had enough of the line-running, and cut through the middle of the Glade on a diagonal. She swerved past the Shack and bathhouses, and narrowly made it to the other side, just as Newt stopped jogging.

"I was waiting for you to do that." he patted the grass, and flexed his ankle. "Sit."

She didn't need to be told twice, and plopped next to him, breathing heavily. In a minute, the warmhearted young man she had grown to like returned with a small, crescent smile. He breathed in and out, slowly and calculatingly, telling her to follow his pace.

"Calm down, there's enough air for everyone. Put your hands on your head."

"I thought I was the Med-jack." she teased lightly, but did as she was told. She felt her body start to relax, and her inhales and exhales become less labored.

"That wasn't so bad, you did well." he said.

"You basically called me Griever-bait."

"I'm supposed to be tough on you, make you think you suck when in reality I'm pushing you to do better."

"Well, you did a good job at making me hate you." she grumbled, picking on a blade of grass.

Newt's fingers twitched next to hers, and he pivoted himself forward, and towered over her 5'1 frame. He bit his lower lip, and supported one hand on the wall, the other resting on her waist. "Do you hate me now?" he asked huskily, a voice no woman would be able to resist, rubbing slow circles on her hipbone.

Her body was on fire, her nails digging into her thighs in an attempt to hide that she was on edge. "Yes." she replied softly, unsteadily.

He smirked, "Liar." and leaned down to press his lips to hers.

They've never done it before, or at least they thought they never did. But when they kissed it was like the clouds parted on a rainy day, and pure instinct took over. It was sweet, like fresh berries, and almost childlike, if it weren't for the way Newt's hand was dangerously close to her middle. Both vulnerable and eager, completely immersed in their brief state of bliss.

Newt was the first to pull away, trying to compose himself like the gentleman he was. "Y'know, I never imagined I'd be doing, this." he confessed, gesturing to their state, "feeling a spark for a person who doesn't know herself as well as I don't know myself."

She placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "It's messed up."

"Completely shucked up." he agreed, pressing his lips to her temple. "It's like we're strangers with an affixation with nothing but their presences."

Reaching over to cup his cheeks she asked, "Since when have you been so analytical?"

"Love, I've always been this smart." he boasted playfully, wrapping his arms around her middle. "It's just that I get a little dazed up when I think of you." She buried her head in shoulder, noting the fact that he smelled clean, somehow. Their water supply was low, and many boys abandoned bathing altogether. "I'm going to miss this."

"It's not the end of us." she said, trying to stay optimistic.

"Alby mentioned his memories during the Changing." he explained, pulling her closer. "He called it, the Flare. Whatever it is, it's dangerous. What if we get it when we get out of here?"

"Too bad this wasn't a safe haven." as much as she hated being closed off, the Glade was all she ever knew up until this point. "I wouldn't mind staying here, even if it's for a little longer, just to be safe."

"You're only saying that now, I can't stand this place. I hate every minute, of every day." Newt replied bitterly. "Never have, never will. But if we have a chance, out there, I'm willing to take it. Flare or no Flare." Theo made things all the more bearable for him. "And we'll be doing it together."

"That's good." she said contentedly, feeling her eyes start to droop.

"Good that."

Theo nearly dropped the bowl of soup when she returned to Teresa's room.

Jeff, thoroughly defeated on the ground, clutching his parts. Clint, with his hands up in defense, dropping his notepad in the process.

And Teresa, up and awake, pointing the sharp end of a scalpel to their faces.

"T-Teresa." the female Med-jack gently put down the bowl, taking slow steps forward.

Teresa brandished the scalpel, pointing it threateningly towards her. "Don't move! Or I'll hurt you!" she said, her hair swinging wildly as she neared towards the window. Clint took this as an opportunity to scram, shuffling away as discreetly as possible.

"Calm down." Her steps slowed, and she put her palms out. "You're safe here." she said, even though she wasn't exactly sure what classified as safe anymore.

"What is this place? Who are you!"

And protocol was abandoned, and she frowned in confusion, dropping her arms. "You sure sounded like you knew me in your sleep, you called my name."

Her vibrant, multi-faceted blue eyes widened, as if she heard the worst thing ever possible. "You're lying!" and she stalked forward, scalpel aiming for her face.

"Wait, wait!" Theo winced, quickly retreating. "Thomas! You have to know Thomas, you called him too."

For a fraction of a second, her bold features softened over her porcelain skin. "Where is he?" she asked, gripping the scalpel with borderline instability. "Where's Thomas?"

"He went out in the Maze with Minho." Theo didn't have to be so specific with her reply, but figured the extra details would soothe the poor girl into believing they could trust each other. "But he should be out soon, and then you can talk to Thomas." Theo paused, her eyes darting between Teresa and the scalpel. "Or, are you talking to him now?"

At the mention of their telepathy, Teresa was stunned that she knew. Theo took this opportunity to swing forward, gripping Teresa's wrist hard enough for her to drop the blade. She cried out, and Teresa pulled at Theo's tank, stretching the fabric and under her skin. Her height advantage easily put her in control, as she pushed the smaller girl against the wooden bedframe, grabbing the scalpel and flying out the window.

"Thanks for helping." she moaned to Jeff, who was still on the floor.

"Can't… feel my balls." he groaned. "Shuck, this hurts."

"The bloody hell happened here?" Newt and Clint walked in, obviously too late. "Where's the girl?"

"She went to meet up with Thomas." Theo said, getting up. "Maybe with those two together they can remember something useful."

"They better." he nodded to the other two Med-jacks, but couldn't help but snicker at Jeff. "Congrats, Jeffie. You're the first guy in the Glade to get your ass kicked by a girl." he gave a quick wink to Theo. "I'm going to check on Alby again, and go find out what Thomas and his little girlfriend are up to." and he walked out, leaving the three to clean up the mess.

"This is all so crazy." Clint sighed, playing with the soup spoon, now cold. "It's like an unsolvable puzzle, and more and more pieces that don't seem to fit, keep popping up."

"Puzzle," Theo said to herself, looking between Clint and Jeff. Something struck her, as if she'd known it all along. If only she knew this sudden burst of inspiration would come now, she wouldn't be squealing on the floor like a little girl, startling the two other guys. "I got something, I'll be right back!"

Minho, she had to find Minho. She nearly crashed into Clint and a bunch of other Gladers on the way, but didn't stop until she reached the Runner's Map Room, banging on the steel door. The door opened, slowly at first, until Minho noticed who it was. His face was sunken and his cheeks smeared with dirt, showing that he just got back after a long run. "Theo," he narrowed his eyes, showing that he had no time for this. "you're not allowed to be here. Go away."

"Wait," she breathed, putting a hand on the doorframe. "Thomas told me that there's a pattern, the Maze changes every night." she pushed the door wider, Minho's grip grew slack. "The Creators wouldn't have made the Maze change just to confuse you."

"Thomas already suggested this." Minho shook his head, exhausted of any hope. He was tired of dead ends. "I've spent a lot of time looking, the Maze as far as we know it, is unsolvable."

There, he said it. He really was to his breaking point.

"But there's an exit." she tried again.

Defeated, he nodded, although he wasn't too sure himself. "Thomas, he found the Griever's home. Off the Cliff."

She didn't know what the Cliff was, but nodded anyway. "Then there is a way."

"Like I said, I've tried everything."

"Just because you've tried everything, doesn't mean I've tried anything." She was here for a reason, she kept telling herself. Just like any other Glader, she had a part, and she was going to deliver it.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me you're capable of solving the Maze, Thomas tried to convince me earlier, and that shank's smart."

She grinned, "Depends. If you let me and Thomas in, I'm sure we can think of something."

The Keeper's nostrils flared, trying to remain stoic. "If I were a good little Glader who harped on the rules, I would ask Alby or even Newt for approval. Only Runners and leaders look at the maps, but it's getting late and—" Minho lifted his wrist, examining the plain but sleek digital watch, something only Runners and Keepers would wear. His expression suddenly shrunk, and asked Theo if the time on his watch was right.

"Why, I think so."

"No." one word was enough for his whole disposition to crumble. "No, no, no. Don't you see it!" he put his hands on his head, freaking out.

"See wha—" and Minho promptly grabbed her head, flexing it forward.

"Don't you see it? The shuckin' doors, they should've closed ten minutes ago!" it was weird, seeing the door open in the dark. But Minho was right, they should've closed at sundown. The West Gate remained stagnant, and eerily silent. "This isn't good, this isn't good." he said over and over, "C'mon, we have to go. They're probably barricading the Homestead by now."

"But—the maps!" Theo said, remembering that's what she ran all the way here for. "If the doors aren't closing it's more than enough incentive to hurry up and solve the maps."

He shook his head, reaching for her hand. "If there's no wall to protect us, the Grievers will be merciless. We have to go to the safehouse."

Theo frowned, slipping out of his grasp. She gave a weak smile for comfort. "I'll meet you there, I'll just go in and grab some things."

Minho sighed in frustration, his eyes darting between the wall and her. "If you're gonna be a hero, at least take this." he handed her a keyring, filled with at least five different keys. "The yellow one locks the door to the Maps, just in case." and he started jogging in place, ready to make a break for it. "You better come back alive, or Newt's gonna feed me to the Grievers!"

"I will!" she exclaimed, quickly running into the Maps room. It looked like a disheveled file cabinet, the way boxes and boxes were haphazardly strewn. She caught the strong, musty smell of dust and mildew and coughed, covering her nose with her shirt. Picking up the first paper, she read the number '5' scribbled on the corner. She picked the top off of another box, and found a '2.' There were boxes of fives and twos, she glowered at them. What sense did it make to have a box of the same sections copied over and over?

In total, there were least eight huge boxes arranged in a semi-circle around the room. There was barely any light seeping in the dark Maze Room, but she could distinguish by the number scrawled on the cardboard. One by one, she plucked a paper from each day from each box, one through eight, stacking them in numerical order. It took a little more time because it was dark and she didn't want to mess up, but she had to hurry. She heard the familiar Griever scream in the distance, multiple Grievers, and she started trembling, a '7' in her hands. Keep going.

Soon enough she had a stack of sixty-four maps, over a week of Maze-changing. She was about to reach for the one and start the process again when she heard a sickening crash. But it was inside, she froze. Another bang. Was there another room? Abandoning the last paper she weaved through the room, only to find the back door swung open, whoever was there had left.

In the person's way, he left a fire, which was currently eating away at the straw and wood wall. The papers closest to the wall started to catch on, and flames started eating away at the maps bit by bit. Theo was blinded by a wall of red and orange, white flames licking closer and closer to her feet. She heard the faint click click click of the Grievers, and distinct male screams.

Stuffing as many maps as she could in her medical bag she ran out the second door, coughing hysterically as the black air hit her lungs.

Her eyes were bleary and she was sweating through her shirt, trying to make out the Homestead in the distance. The Grievers, big, inhumanly sluggish creatures were treading the Glade, making their way to the Gladers' fortress.

They probably boarded up all the walls. She panicked, even if I did make it in time, they wouldn't let me in.

She caught sight of the concrete huts about two hundred feet beyond the Homestead, making out the distinct underground buildings, concrete and barred. Focusing on her destination, she patted the Maps to make sure they were still in her bag, and started running. Once she made it to the Slammer, she frantically pulled out Minho's keys, trying to figure out which one would unlock the cage.

"The black one." Teresa said, and Theo finally noticed that the formerly comatose girl was jailed up. "They locked me in with the black one."

Pushing the lock in, she swung the cage open and jumped in, then locked it from the inside.

After a few labored breaths the two girls sat in silence, the only discernible sounds being the Grievers and the screams of boys being taken by Grievers.

"Why are you here?" Theo finally asked, not meaning to sound accusing.

"Because it's my fault." Teresa replied simply, looking down at her knees.

"Is it?"

"Indirectly, yeah." she puffed a lock of that flew in her eyes. "I didn't specifically ask for a bunch of Grievers to kill everyone."

"Newt said this was the probably the safest place in the Glade." She closed her eyes, hoping that he was okay. She took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. "Can Grievers produce fire?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then someone tried to burn the Maps Room on purpose." Theo frowned, "But who would do that?"

It was like talking to a wall, as she turned to Teresa, who seemed to be paying attention, but her eyes were obviously focused somewhere else. "Hm?" she finally said, turning towards the Med-jack.

"What? Did you tell Thomas what I just said?"

The girl glowered, probably annoyed that she constantly brought up their telepathy like it was a normal thing. "Yeah. But it doesn't matter anyway, he won't tell anyone. They'd think he's more crazy than normal." Teresa started shifting uncomfortably in the small hole, her thighs glued together.

"You okay? I can move if you—"

"I have my period." Teresa deadpanned.

"Oh, do you have a—"

"Nope."

Theo couldn't help but smile in such a disaster. Only she would be sentimented by the fact that she could finally talk to another girl about such matters. Digging into her bag she pulled out a thin pad. "Tampons are in the Homestead, I hid them under the sink so the guys wouldn't find them. But this will do, I'll turn around." and she pushed it across the cell, turning her back. She heard a brief, but stiff 'thanks' come from Teresa's mouth.

"We'll be here awhile." Theo said, pulling out the pile of maps she managed to salvage. She sighed, thinking about the fire, and how she wasn't able to put it out or get all the maps. "Can you ask Thomas if he has any clue about these maps?"

Teresa closed her eyes in concentration, clutching the plastic wrap in her hands into a little ball. "No, something's wrong. He's probably busy."

Busy with the Grievers? Theo shook away the thought, and spread the maps like a deck of cards. "Fine, then I guess we gotta think for ourselves."

A sickening crash of wood upon glass was heard, and both girls tore their eyes away from the papers to notice that the Homestead had been cracked open by two Grievers. The gelatinous beasts started attacking the decrepit building, eating away at the splinters. Theo stood up, only to be dragged back down by Teresa, who sadly shook her head.

"You can't do anything for them. You'll get yourself killed before you get to the front door." Teresa sounded just as ashamed for staying in the Slammer, but it was for the best. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm worried about Tom just as much as you're worried about the blond boy."

Being rational was the best thing, as much as it hurt her to constantly hear screams and crackling fire outside of their shell. She patted her cheeks, and realized the tears that were steadily falling. Roughly wiping away at the skin, she pulled out a black pen. "Alright, let's look at these things until our eyes bleed."

They were awakened by the morning glow, despite there being no sun, it was enough light to irritate their eyes and force them awake. Maps blanketed their skin, and their hands were covered in ink and graphite. The faint smell of smoke wafted in their cell. Teresa woke quickly, trying to rouse Theo, who already trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She looked up, keys in hand.

"Boys, Grievers, code." Theo phrased sleepily, trying to coax herself into a sitting position.

A figure ran up to the Slammer, quickly putting a black key in the padlock. The person threw the padlock to who-knows-where, and lifted a hand to pull the taller girl out.

Half a second later, Theo was hoisted up before she could open her eyes and pulled into a familiar embrace.

"Shuck, Thea." Newt whispered so softly only they could hear, as he buried his nose into her dark locks. "Imagine my face when I heard Minho left you out in the Maze Room," he stopped for a millisecond to glare at said Asian, "and then to hear it was set on fire."

"At least she's alive." Minho bit back, although from the relief in his tone he was happy to know she was okay as well.

"Slim it, I still haven't forgiven ya." And he returned to his little bundle of hope, still holding her to check that she was real, warm, and alive. Theo laced her fingers around his waist, and she was so short that she could rest her head perfectly along his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat got slower and slower. "You're not hurt anywhere, are ya?"

He leaned down to nuzzle her forehead with hers, and that's when she noticed the white gauze taped to his temple. There was a patch of dried blood in the middle. She backed away like lightning, her eyes ignited in worry. "How the hell can you ask me that, what happened to your head?"

Newt chuckled, "You're cute when you're worried."

"That's not funny."

"Gally came back," Minho finally answered, bringing the two back to reality. His arms were crossed, his sunken eyes constantly shifting back and forth as if something were to jump right at him. "That shank tried to offer him to the Grievers. He probably burned the Maps Room too."

Theo felt so out of touch, she couldn't even remember the last time she had seen Gally. Furthermore, she couldn't even pinpoint the last time she had a conversation with Alby. "Well, what a slinthead." she spat, and just when she was trying to justify Gally's fears in turning around the Glade, he goes up and ruins it once more. "Next time you see him, give him hell."

Newt smiled proudly, as if to say "that's my girl" but all of a sudden someone started panicking.

"Where's Thomas?" Teresa asked, closing and opening her eyes. "Where is he? Something's happened to him." Both boys looked down, as if they were ashamed that they let her down, which only made Teresa even more frantic. "Tell me!"

"Tommy," Newt finally said, "he stung himself."

(a/n) One, FINALLY they kiss. Two, a lot of this chapter and last chapter I used quotes from Peter Pan and The Maze Runner. Thank you, enjoy!