AN: Double shot for those I kept waiting…
Newt and I ran towards the West Wing, watching as the Runners returned, our eyes passing over each, looking for a specific set of eyes and a lazy smirk.
But the Runners were gone now, retreated into the map room in which I'd wasted too many days. However Minho was still missing. Alby as well and that set off a fire inside me. Panic rose within me as I ran from door to door, my eyes skimming my surroundings for a dark-skinned boy with a bad attitude and a sarcastic black-haired boy with too much attitude to be real.
They had to be here.
They simply had to. They were smart, smarter than anyone here, myself included -not that I'd ever tell them that… their egos were big enough already-, but they were also strong. And fast and by the Creators if they couldn't make it, no one could!
I wasn't giving up on them yet.
There was still time.
Right?
Some sort of bellowed command from the lips of none other than my blonde counterpart brought me back to reality. The pile of Gladers who'd piled by the Doors waiting and watching for their leaders began shuffling about, spreading out and dissipating until only Newt and I remained.
Heavy silence separated us. Neither of us daring to speak for fear of breaking down completely.
And it stayed that way. The both of us staring out into the Maze. The bane of our existence. Our one salvation… mystery and danger and everything that could kill.
"I- I'll go check the East Wing," I muttered quietly, realizing just how heavily Newt's presence was weighing on me at the moment.
It was no different on this side. The Doors wide open and ominous, towering far so far above my head I could just barely see the top and the maze ivy covered and silent, beckoning. I stared down the path, a painful hope inside me yearning to see two figures rounding the corner, smirks on their faces and- and-
Now wasn't the time for hopes and dreams.
They would come back or they wouldn't. They'd be alive or they wouldn't. It was as simple as that.
I tried desperately to fight against that little voice in the back of my head that whispered how much I needed them. How I needed Alby's strong hand and stern conviction to keep going in the right direction. How I needed Minho's off handed jokes and sarcasm to show me the good in this life… to give me a shoulder to lean on and-
What about Newt?
I need him most definitely. I needed his level headedness to keep me from breaking. His voice to talk me down when I got mad. I needed his gentle touches and caring eyes. And… I need him. Just him in general.
I sighed. Because he needed Alby and Minho just as much as I did. If not more. A sinking feeling in my chest told me that I didn't think I could go on without them. Not if Newt wasn't by my side. I needed him like I needed air, and that scared me. I didn't realize when I'd become so dependent, when someone's life suddenly meant more to me than my own. It was frightening, how much I needed those boys, but I wasn't giving it up. Not for anything.
I'd have given anything to have them here. Safe… or relatively so… and here and Mine. And- Gah! If it hadn't been for that buggin oath I'd be out there now, running my tail off looking for the pair. 'Never go out at night. No matter what. Never.' I sighed, remembering those blasted words. There was nothing I could do.
Nothing. Not a bloody thing I could do to help.
I looked up at our artificial sky and sighed, knowing the Doors would be closing all too soon and praying to whatever god deemed up worthy that my boys would come back alive.
A loud boom thundered from all directions, causing me to flinch involuntarily. It was too late. Minho was dead. Alby was dead. My boys were gone. Or they would be soon. Pulled apart by grievers, stung and then stung again. A bloody pile of bones.
I flinched at the suddenly morbid train of thought.
"They got him!" It was a whisper in the distance.
Every muscle in my body coming to life at that distant blink of hope. I started running. Sprinting. Harder and faster than I ever had before.
"Newt! They're coming! I can see 'em!" Thomas. Hope swelled with in me at his words. They were alive! They were okay! They were-
Far away…
I saw Thomas by the doors, his back to me as he looked at the figures in the maze. They were too far. They were moving much too slowly. Something was wrong. Alby was leaning on Minho for support and- he slipped, suddenly falling through Minho's grasp. Minho –calm, cool and collected, sarcastic Minho- tried desperately to pull him back on his feet. But it was in vain. He couldn't move.
I ran faster, prepared to run right into that Maze if it meant they'd survive. Banishment or no.
Minho was dragging him now, pulling him across the stone at a pace so painstakingly slow it killed me inside. They were a hundred feet away and the Doors were closing. The grinding sound of stone on stone had never sounded so horrible, the dirt and rocks spitting out from under never so evil. The unnatural movement of the momentous rock never seemed so wrong before.
I was sprinting, but I knew I wasn't going to make it.
They weren't going to make it. Minho suddenly stumbled under Alby's weight, falling to the ground. But I kept running, not knowing what else to do. I ran and I ran and-
"Don't do it, Tommy! Don't you bloody do it!"
I wasn't paying attention to the voice or the boy that stood by the closing doors, his gaze fixed on the struggling pair in the distance. I was watching the steadily closing gap between the Doors.
Five feet.
Four.
Three.
Two.
There was a boy in the way. Thomas. And he was going through.
One.
The walls slammed shut with a deafening boom, the echoing sound echoing like a maniac's laughter…