Minho was still sleeping when I got back to Homestead. His mouth was open and he was snoring loudly. It was amusing to say the least. I reached out and poked his cheek, just to see his reaction. His nose twitched as he swatted at my hand with his own. I laughed softly as he turned on his side away from me. I chuckled, leaning down and blowing on his ear. His head twitched his hand coming up to swat at me again. Leaning down I repeated the process, finding amusement in his obliviousness. Unfortunately it seemed my laughing woke him up as he suddenly turned back to me eyes open. Stumbling back in surprise I fell… on my butt.

And of course Minho found that hilarious.

Glaring, I got back to my feet and sat beside him.

Smirking he looked at me, "Smooth."

I punched his shoulder lightly, "Shuttup." He didn't say anything, just smirked at me, his eyes looking me over like he was searching for something. "What?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Though I was dead, huh?"

His question seemed sudden, though in reality it wasn't. It was to be expected after what had just happened. I took a deep breath, "I- I thought… I thought maybe you weren't gonna come back…" I said quietly. He didn't say anything, only nodded. He could have nothing to say. He had to have been thinking about something. Anything. He couldn't just sit there and- and- sucking up my pride I hugged him, full-on, body flinging, arms around him, hugging.

I felt his body stiffen, surprise oozing off of him, before he relaxed, moving his arm so I had more access to him. His arms went around my body and his head could be felt against my own. "Thank you for not dying," I muttered lamely.

He laughed, "Your welcome?"

I laughed too, pulling away from him, smiling slightly as I looked up at him. Our smiles fell at another scream from above. We shared a glance, both knowing what was happening in the room above. "I Have to go help…" I gestured upward.

He nodded, "And MaC?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep when you're done… you look like klunk."

Rare part in Newt's POV:

I sighed, standing, leaving Clint to deal with the vomit that Alby had just spewed. Creators this sucked. The door opened to reveal a very tired looking girl with brown-blonde hair and grey eyes. Her hands were at her sides, fingering the hem of her (my) shirt. She had found a pair of shorts last night. They were boys' but they fit okay, reaching down to her knees with pockets enough to fit whatever she may need. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in a concerned fashion. "Hey, MaC."

"Hey," It was quiet and forced, like she was forcing it out.

I narrowed my eyes at her strange behavior and came a bit closer, "What? Are you-"

"Im fine," She smiled, placing her hand on my arm. "You… you look horrible…" She said, not bothering to sugar-coat it.

"You don't look so good yourself." I told her

"So, I've been told." She smiled up at me, her lips parting slightly before she looked past my shoulder to the now-sleeping Alby. "I'll take over for a bit, go take a rest…"

I paused, not wanting to leave her, but she was right. I was starving for a bit of food and dog-tired. A rest would be welcome… I nodded, "Okay."

She smiled slightly, walking past me to help Clint. "And Newt?" I turned around to see her smiling timidly, something that almost never happened. "Check on Tommy for me?"

I nodded.

And so I did. Right after I got some food.

He was with Chuckie sitting on a patch of grass that was actually sort of comfortable. "I think the worst parts over," I told them thinking back to how Alby had fallen asleep, that was usually the end of the screaming and thrashing. "The bugger should be sleeping for a couple days, then wake up okay. Maybe a little screaming now and then."

Tommy paused, a sort of forced casualness about him as he attempted to phrase his questions one at a time and not throw them all at me. I thanked him for that much. "Newt, what he going through up there? Seriously, I don't get what this Changing thing is."

"You think we do? I asked, throwing my hands out to the side. Where was MaC when you needed her? I hated explaining this Klunk, we didn't have answers for half the klunk that went on around here and that was the sad truth. We didn't know. "All we bloody know is if the Grievers sting you with their nasty needles, you inject the Grief Serum or you die. If you do get the Serum, and your body wigs out and shakes and your skin bubbles and turns a freaky green color and you vomit all over yourself. Enough explanation for ya there, Tommy?"

The boy frowned. "Hey, I know it sucks to go see your friend go through that, but I just want know what's really happening up there. Why do you call it the changing?"

I relaxed, sort of, he didn't deserve me blowin' up on him. He just wanted answers. I sighed, "It brings back memories. Just little snippets, but definite memories of before we came to this horrible place. Anyone who goes through it acts like a bloody psycho when it's over- although usually not as bad as poor Ben. Anyway, it's like being given your old life back, only to have it snatched away again."

"Are you sure?"

What in bloody hell? "What do you mean? Sure about what?" I questioned.

"Are they changed because they want to go back to their old life, or is it because they're so depressed at realizing their old life was no better than what we have now?"

I stared at him for a moment, mulling over his words. He had a point. A very good point, but there was no way of knowing which one it was. "Shanks who've been through it'll never really talk about it. They get… different. Unlikeable. There's a handful around the Glade, but I can't stand to be around them." I told them. "Well… 'cept MaC, but-"

"MaC went through the changing?" Tommy cut me off, seeming genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, but she don't remember any of what she saw. All the normal stuff happened, the screaming thrashing about, turning green, all of it, 'cept she hit her head pretty hard the bed frame..." I trailed off, remembering. She had given us a good scare that day. Was asleep for three days before waking up. We thought she might've died. "Woke up like it'd all been a pleasant dream." Somehow I didn't think Alby was gonna be the same… He'd be different. And to be honest… that scared me. I don't think MaC had thought about that… and I really didn't want to be the one to point it out. I didn't want to see the fear of losing him reflected back at me. It'd hurt too much.

"She's the only likable one," Chuck chimed in, "Gally's the worst of em all."

"Anything new on the girl?" Thomas said, changing the subject. "I saw the Med-Jacks feeding her upstairs."

"No," I told him, "Still in the buggin coma, or whatever it is. Every once in a while she'll mumble something- nonsense, like she's dreaming. She takes the food, seems to be doing all right. Its kind of weird," I added as a sort of afterthought. She was strange… coming in here half-dead with a scary-ass note and then falling into a coma on us. MaC hadn't done that… well, she'd been asleep when she came but she woke up an hour or so later…

"Anyway, next up- figure out what to do with Tommy here."

He perked up seeming confused, "Do with me? What are you talking about?"

I stood up, stretching, hiding a smirk. Didn't know jack, but I liked him well enough. Become a celebrity overnight after spending a night in the Maze… stupid… but brave. I'd give him that. "Turned this whole place upside down, you bloody shank. Half the Gladers think you're God, the other half wanna throw your butt down the Box Hole. Lotta stuff to talk about."

"Like what?" he asked, seeming extremely unsettled. Well… I suppose I would be too in his position.

Eh, he could wait for the Gathering. Just like everybody else. "Patience, you'll find out after the wake-up."

"Tomorrow? Why?"

"I've galled a Gathering. And you'll be there. You're the only buggin thing on the agenda." I told him, only slightly annoyed. It was sort of amusing holding it above his head and watching him wonder. I wonder if this is what Minho felt like teasing the newbies all the time…

She was asleep when I got to the Homestead. She was sitting on the floor, her head resting on the cot Alby was sleeping on. She was snoring softly as she always did, her mouth open slightly.

I smiled, walking over to wake her… but deciding against it, instead bending down to pick her up. I mean, really, how heavy could she be?

Heavier than I thought, apparently, but it wasn't as if I couldn't carry her. With a weird sort of grunt she moved, her head lolling back and her mouth falling open. It was laughable really.

I laid her down beside Minho in our usual spot, but she mumbled, clinging onto my shirt. Not wanting to wake her up, I decided I'd just lay down beside her. She snuggled up closer to me, laying her head on my chest. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Despite all that was happening around us… she was still here, and she still wanted me.

Me.

For some reason she picked me. And I wasn't going to let her down.