Once everyone was settled, I found myself with the usual suspects… Plus, Tommy, upstairs. Newt, Alby, and I sat on the only bed in the room while Tommy and Minho sat next to us in chairs. The only other furniture was a small crooked wooden dresser and a table on top of which sat a lamp providing what light we had. It was an eerie glow in the darkness.

"Closest I've come so far," Newt was saying, "to hangin' it all up. Shuck it all and kiss a Griever goodnight. Supplies cut, bloody gray skies, walls not closing. But we can't give up, and we all know it. The buggers who set us here either want us dead or they're givin' us a spur. This or that, we gotta work our arses off until we're dead or not dead."

"It seems stupid to put us through all this, just to kill us off," I said, "But either way, we can't just lay down and die." Newt leaned back, putting his arm behind me and nodding. The both of us looked to Alby who was staring at the floor, seemingly lost in his own depression. His face still wore the long weary look he'd had when he'd woken up from the Changing and his eyes were sunken, seemingly hollow. The Changing had been aptly named considering what it had done to him.

"Alby?" Newt asked, "Are you gonna pitch in?"

Alby looked up, surprise written across his face like hadn't known anyone else was in the room. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Good that. But you've seen what happens at night. Just because Greenie and the freaking superboy made it doesn't mean the rest of us can."

Superboy? I think there were more accurate descriptions of Minho. "I'm with these three," he said motioning towards Thomas, Newt and I. We gotta quit boohooing and feeling sorry for ourselves." He rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, you guys assign teams to study the Maps full-time while the Runners go out. We'll pack our stuff shuck-full so we can stay out there a few days."

"What?" Alby asked, finally showing some emotion, "What do you mean, days?"

"I mean, days. With open Doors and no sunset, there's no point in coming back here, anyway. Time to stay out there and see if anything opens up when the move. If they still move."

"No way," Alby said. "W e have the Homestead to hide in- and if that aint workin', the Map Room and the Slammer. We can't freaking ask people to go out there and die, Minho! Who'd volunteer for that?"

"Me," Minho said, "And Thomas."

Thomas nodded when our eyes averted to him. "Count me in," I said.

"I will if I have to," Newt said. "And I'm sure all the Runners'll do it."

"With your bum leg?" Alby asked, as harsh laugh escaping his lips.

I glared harshly. Newt hated the limp as it was, he didn't need reminding on it.

"Well, I don't feel good askin' Gladers to do something if I'm not bloody willing to do it myself."

Alby scooted back and propped his feet up, "Whatever. Do what you want."

"Do what I want?" Newt asked, standing up, "What's wrong with you, man? Are you tellin' me we have a choice? Should we just sit around on our butts and wait to be snuffed by the Grievers?"

I was really hoping that he'd snap out of it. But he didn't. Alby didn't look reprimanded in the least. Or at all remorseful. "We'll it sounds better than running towards them."

Newt sat back down, "Alby. You gotta start talking reason."

We needed Alby, the Gladers looked up to him. Hell, I looked up to him. If we gonna get moving on anything we were gonna need Alby. He took a deep breath and then looked at each one of us, "You guys know I'm all screwed up. Seriously, I'm… sorry. I shouldn't be the stupid leader anymore."

"Alby," I began, Newt cutting me off with, "Oh, bloody-"

"No!" Alby shouted, his face showing humility, surrender. "That's not what I meant. Listen to me. I aint saying we should switch or any of that klunk. I'm just saying… I think I need to let you guys make the decisions. I don't trust myself. So… yeah, I'll do whatever."

Looking around at the others I saw they were just as surprised as me. "Uh… Okay," Newt said slowly, unsure, "We'll make it work, I promise. You'll see."

"Yeah," Alby muttered. After a long pause, he spoke up, seeming oddly excited. "Hey, tell you what. Put me in charge of the Maps. I'll freaking work every Glader to the bone studying those things."

"Works for me," Minho said. I nodded.

Alby put his feet back on the floor, sitting up straighter, "You know, it was really stupid for us to sleep in here tonight. We should've been out in the Map Room, working."

Minho shrugged, "Probably right." But the maps weren't in the Map Room…

"Well… I'll go," Alby said with a confident nod. "Right now."

Newt shook his head, "Forget that, Alby. Already heard the bloody Grievers moaning out there. We can wait until the wake-up."

Alby leaned forward elbows on his knees, "Hey, you shucks are the ones giving me all the pep talks. Don't start whining when I actually listen. If I'm gonna do this, I gotta do it. Be the old me. I need something to dive into."

I felt the absurd need to hug him. Which was strange. I have never felt the urge to hug anyone other than Newt and Minho….But underneath all the fighting, I really did care about Alby. And I had thought he cared about me too. Until today… I wasn't sure anymore, until now. Alby was still Alby despite it all. He just had to work at it.

"Seriously, I need this." He said, standing.

"Alby, you can't-," I began.

"MaC, don't get all wishy-washy on me, I'm going and that's that." He said taking the keys and shaking them mockingly, "See you shanks in the morning."

It was strange, knowing that even as time went on, further into the night, that darkness wouldn't fall, that we'd be stuck with this unnatural pale gray light.

The other Gladers settled themselves, turning in with their pillows and blankets for the impossible task of sleeping. No one said much, if anything at all. The mood was somber, and grim. The air filled with only the quiet shuffles and whispers.

The bed had gone to Newt, but he insisted that I could fit as well, and I did, mostly, curled up into his side and using his arm as a pillow, listing to the steady beating of his heart, the rhythm of his breathing and watching the rise and fall of his chest.

It was probably stupid, but somehow, I felt safe with him there. It wasn't the boarded up windows, or the furniture piled up against the doors, the knives that had been handed out as weapons. It was him.

And eventually I did fall asleep, right next to him.

A/N: Do me a favor and review! I'm trying to get my chapters up quick as possible. The Scorch Trials will be fun to write MaC into... though that means she's getting close to The Death Cure and you all know what happens then... Emotional... things happen. BUT THE MOVIE IS COMING OUT TOMORROW AND I'M TOTALLY FLIPPING OUT HERE! COMPLETELY PSYCHED! WHO ELSE IT GOING? HUH? TALK TO ME PEOPLE I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY FREAKING HAPPY ABOUT THIS BUT NONE OF MY FRIENDS HAVE READ THE SERIES AND I'M JUST LIKE... I'M- I'M DYING!

Review!

No, seriously... review...

please?