Screaming, I ran. There was no point. Minho was gone. Alby was gone. Thomas… Thomas was gone. Slamming into the stone wall that separated me from the people I loved most, I screamed, hitting at the stone. "Minho!" The screams turned to sobs. Leaning on the wall I fell to my knees, I blinked back tears.

I wasn't going to cry.

Not here.

I wasn't going to cry.

I wasn't-

Suddenly a pair of hands were pulling me to my feet, arms wrapped around me and my head was buried in a shoulder. His shoulder. Closing my eyes I clung onto him, breathing in the familiar scent that was uniquely him. My shoulders shook as I held onto him. He was here. He was okay. He was with me. I wasn't alone.

I took a deep breath, it was shaky, but it calmed me down a bit. Opening my eyes I pulled away, just enough to look at his face. "Newt…" I whispered, reaching to touch his face.

He blinked slowly, taking slow breaths. His eyes were glassy as he stared down at me. I could see my reflection in the whites of his eyes and realized I was in much the same condition. Cupping his cheek I brushed the pad of my thumb along his skin. I opened my mouth to speak, but… there was no words. There was nothing to say. Nothing I could say.

He leaned into the touch, but of course THAT couldn't last as the little chunky boy by the name of Chuck came bounding towards us with wide eyes. I sighed, removing my hand. The annoyance in Newt's eyes was not missed by me. I took the initiative to speak to the boy before Newt ended up ripping him a new one.

"Chuckie… Thomas… isn't coming back," I said in a low voice.

"What are you talking about, he said he was going to check on… on you two…" He trailed off, realizing what I was getting at. "He… he went…"

"He went after Minho and Alby… they couldn't get over in time… Thomas went to help," I muttered, not really in the mood to talk, but I figured I spare the poor boy Newt's anger. He had a new reason to hate the Maze now, and to be frank, I feared for the safety of anyone willing to test his patience tonight.

Chuck nodded, his eyes finding the floor and staying there. Newt suddenly gabbed my wrist, gesturing towards the Homestead. I patted Chuck on the shoulder in a manner I hope he found comforting before grabbing Newts arm. His grip was uncomfortably tight. He loosened his grip so I could slide my hand into his. I hugged his arm briefly, resting my head on his shoulder trying to get him to calm down to release the tension in his muscles. He did, slightly… but I supposed that would have to suffice.

I flitted about collecting the various keepers for our less than orthodox Gathering. Bringing the lot of them upstairs where they all took their seats, I noticed Newt's eyes were on the empty seats to his right and left. He hadn't sat down. Neither had I. Standing by his side I stood on my toes to whisper in his ear, "Newt, they're all here… when you're ready…" I lowered myself just as he raised his eyes to meet mine. With a small upturn to my lips I bumped my arm to his.

He did the explaining this time. The Keepers respected him. They looked up to him in a way they didn't when it came to me. I offered moral support, standing by his side and picking up when he left off, before handing the reigns back to him when he felt ready. We were a team, per usual.

The Keepers looked down sullenly.

"We'll have to elect a new keeper." I wasn't sure who said it, and I knew it was a reasonable thought, but I couldn't- no… Alby was elected the leader when Nick died… poor, poor Nick. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.

Newts jaw was clenched, unable or unwilling to utter a word.

The others nodded in solemn agreement.

It came in a blur that next hour, a blur of low voices and murmured agreement, of sad eyes and clenched jaws. I almost didn't realize when Newt was nominated. To be honest I'm not sure I did notice until I was called upon to vote. I think I voted for him… I'm fairly sure I did. Anyways, he was elected –and almost unanimous vote- and with a respectful nod he stood appointing me second-in-command and then dismissing the others before they could even start on replacing Minho as Keeper of the Runners.

He looked at me then. Green eyes weighed down with a sadness beyond words. "Its not right," he said. "It aint right…" I knew what he meant. Alby was the leader. Not him. He was second-in-command. Not me. I was the sort of assistant, running around helping the two of em out because no matter how many times he denied it Alby liked me and underneath all the insults and harsh words, we were friends. And Minho. Minho was Keeper of the Runners. Invincible!

They… they couldn't be gone… We couldn't be standing here in their places. It wasn't right. "I know…"

He was holding back a yell, I could tell. He was entertaining the thought of punching the wall in anger. Of kicking and hitting and punching until he felt better. He sighed looking back to me seeming to heed my silent warning that he'd only hurt himself.

"C'mon," I said quietly, "Its late…"

"I not gonna bloody sleep," he almost growled.

I sighed, "Well, you aren't staying up alone, so I suppose I'm stuck up with you then."

He grunted, moving towards the stairs.

A/N: So... what do ya think? They're all messed up, best friends in the world... dead... and wjole pile of responsibility shoveled ontop of em.