Tasha felt as tense as the next Glader, waiting with her hands crossed tightly over her chest, weight swaying from one foot to the other as she waited for the return of Minho and Alby. Every time she made a move towards the gates, Newt had authorised any of the other Gladers to step on her feet or hold her back. She would have grumbled about, had the closest person to her not been Gally, who seemed rather eager to step on her toes. She feel the mud beneath her bare feet as she rocked back and forth on her heels, eyes train on the maze.

"Come on guys, can't we send someone after them?" Thomas's words spark a flare of hope in Tasha's heart, despite knowing that they're only minutes away from the doors closing. Her gaze turns to the Greenie, standing beside Newt. In that single moment she feels a sense of camaraderie with him.

"It's against the rules." Gally crouched beside her, bursts Thomas's bubble swiftly, his eyes locked on the maze, expression dark, "either they make it back or they don't." Tasha lurched forward, but Gally's arm swung out and elbowed her in the knees, making her stumble back. She glared at him, but he didn't look at her, so she went back to waiting, staring into the maze herself. Her heart rate climbed higher with every passing moment and she contemplated throwing caution to the wind and running in herself at that moment.

"Can't risk losing anyone else." Newt muttered. Every fibre of Tasha's being was screaming that she wasn't a risk, that she wasn't meant to survive so what would it matter if she went into the maze and helped the others? Her opinion on the matter was irrlevant, Newt wouldn't let her go. She couldn't run into the maze, she couldn't get away from the group, so she did what she always did when she was out of options; she shut down. She stopped her swaying and centred her balance, the telltale gust of wind from inside the maze that signified it's closing barely bothered her. She couldn't even think, not in that moment where she heard the closing of the doors and felt the trembling of the Earth beneath her feet. Everyone's shuffling, moving to keep from utter stillness and silence despite the deafening doors, but Tasha is still as stone and doesn't even register what she sees in the maze before her.

"There!" Thomas pointed to it first, at the end of the stone-lined corridor, two figures making their way towards the group. The tension rises and Tasha can almost taste it on her tongue, the way everyone waits with baited breath, leaning in as if to see better.

"Wait, no, something's wrong." Newt's voice is full of concern and everyone can see the problem. Minho is dragging Alby on his shoulder, their leader unconscious hunched over the Runner. Tasha can almost feel the crackling of static in the air, waiting and watching as Minho struggled along.

"Come on, Minho! You can do it!" Chuck shouted, and it's then that the tension snapped, the rest of the boys shouting encouragement, joining into a chorus of enthusiasm and desperation, despite the fact that Alby was too heavy. They were fighting a losing battle, the doors were closing fast and Tasha's voice refused to cooperated as she stood, staring blankly ahead of herself. The voices around her faded to a soft hum in her mind and she saw Alby slip off of Minho's shoulders. It finally clicked, like the flick of a switch in the back of her mind, that this was one of her best friends, that Minho was about to be stuck in the maze and she couldn't help him.

"They're not going to make it." Newt muttered, broken realisation in his words. Tasha's eyes grew wide and she lunged forwards, startling herself at her speed of movement.

"Minho!" Her shout was loud and clear, full of desperation, but it seemed that not only had some of the others anticipated her sudden bolt, but several of them grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her away from the front of the gathering. She can hear Minho's scream and she thrashed her limbs about (she thinks she may have actually scratched one, but she's not sure), but the gates are still shutting and he's dragging Alby by the foot. By the time she ejected from the back of the group, she spins fiercely in time to see the Greenie push his way past Newt and the doors, right into the maze as they close.

They stood in suspended animation, feeling the aftershocks of Thomas's actions rippling through their little community. It's Chuck that moves first, the youngest and the core of innocence still left in their group, he's confused and sad and he hasn't been around long enough to see someone get left in the Maze, except for Ben and that was yesterday.

"They're…" He doesn't know what to say, what to think… He's only little compared to them and he hasn't had to face the loss that comes with the maze, or make attachments as strong as they had. "They're going to come back." His voice was scared, as if he could hardly believe what was happening. "Minho's fast and they- they'll come back!" Chuck clutched at Newt's wrist, shaking the second-in-command, who suddenly looked much younger than he was, all scared and pale.

"Uh… Chuck." Newt swallowed hard, snapping out of his daze, looking down at the kid, trying not to wince. He lowered his voice, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and nudging the kid to sit down beside the wall. Newt glanced up, before he began, unsure of just how to begin the incoming conversation, stunned expression on his face and the glimmer of a tear in his eye. Tasha felt as if she should join them, to help console Newt or Chuck or someone somehow, but she remembered somewhere in her head was a set frayed wires where her emotional responses should be formulated. She knew that she could do two things well; run and screw up.

She took off, choosing the former of the two options (and probably the latter as well, she thought, bleakly) sprinting through the Glade, not caring about where she went, simply needing to run. She was going to lose Minho, one of her best friends, her running partner, her Keeper. It felt as if she had been punched in the gut, the indescribable loss she suddenly felt. Minho was one of her closest allies, and she would never see him again. The wind whistling past her managed to dry most of the tears from her cheeks, but her eyes were red and she thought she might collapse when she finds herself slumped against the wall of Frypan's kitchen, chest heaving with heavy breaths. She's not sure how she's managed not to collapse yet, perhaps I'm still in shock she considered.

"Tasha, you mind taking food to some of them by the gate?" He asked. Surprised by the sudden voice, Tasha leapt into the air, before nodding, dipping her head to hide her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Frypan gave her a small smile and rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. He handed her a crate stacked with sandwiches and headed back in to prepare dinner for the ones who had gathered by the tables.

There was only a few scattered by the gate, Newt, Chuck, Zart and a few of the Runners. Tasha gravitated towards Newt who, when she got closer to him, close enough to see his own red-rimmed eyes, had been crying. Shuck. Well at least that made two of them. Chuck was curled up beside Newt, sobbing softly, Newt's arm around him. Tasha went to approach them, but Newt shook his head at her, broken expression on his face. Tasha nodded once and set about handing out sandwiches and trying not to break into a fresh wave of tears. Minho and Alby were gone. It hit hard as she began unwrapping her own sandwich, sitting with the doors at her back, a few feet from Chuck and Newt. The younger boy had fallen asleep, head pillowed in Newt's lap as Newt ran his fingers through Chuck's hair, looking as though he too was almost asleep.

"Help me take him to his hammock, yeah?" Newt asked, voice heavy and sad. Tasha had begun trembling badly, sandwich forgotten beside her as she wrung her hands. She looked up, startled by the sudden interaction.

"What?" She asked, as if through swimming through the haze of her semi-reality. Newt gestured to Chuck in his lap and Tasha nodded. Between the two of them, they carried Chuck smoothly - well, as smoothly as a skinny, limping boy and a trembling, crying girl could manage - back to his hammock, and tucked him in. Some of the others had headed to bed, it was getting late by that stage, and Newt and Tasha were the only two left sitting against the wall. Tasha was crying again, silently, her hair hiding her tears as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Newt… I-" she opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to form some sort of words, some sort of anything to break the dreadful silence, broken only by the occasional screeching of grievers. She looked at him and he could see the tear tracks on her cheek. His face crumpled and he tugged her to him, pulling her from her little cocoon, into his lap. She could feel him shake with silent sobs, arms wrapped tightly around her, forehead resting on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck, carding her fingers through his hair as gently as she could manage. "It's OK." Her voice shook with every tiny word and her breathing was unsteady. She couldn't cry, not now when Newt needed her to be strong.

"But it's Minho and Alby…" Newt whimpered, "I can't…" He managed, before swallowing thickly. His chest heaving with laborious breaths.

"You can, I promise you can, and no matter what happens, I'm here." Tasha whispered, drawing away to look him in the eyes. The tips of her fingers ghosted along the back of his neck, up and down in a rhythmic motion.

"But Tash…" He mumbled, his expression feeble. She had seen that expression before, less than a day before he had jumped off of the wall. She hadn't know what to say then, she barely knew what to say now. He was hurting so much more than he let on and Tasha knew that feeling, knew that sense of hopelessness and desperation all too well.

"Please, Newt, I can't lose you." She whispered, her gaze imploring. She knew it was selfish, but it's the truth, she's known its the truth ever since that first day in the maze. If she lost him, she would lose the only thing keeping her in the Glade.

"But you're right, there's no way out of this place." He told her, tightening his grip on her, pulling her closer, their foreheads pressed together. He didn't look at her, his gaze was trained down.

"I don't care, as long as you're here." Tasha told him, quietly. Newt was at a loss, his gaze finally meeting hers, so fixated on the girl in front of him that he couldn't process half of his own thoughts. All he knew was the he wanted this moment to end. So he kissed her. Tasha almost laughed from pure shock, but she kissed him back, threading her fingers through his hair and letting him pull her closer.

"I love you so bloody much, Tasha." He whispered to her, planting a kiss on her neck and hugging her tightly. Tasha laughed, crying once more, but she wasn't certain if they were happy or sad tears - either way, she kissed Newt again, smile on her lips.

"I love you too." She murmured, brushing the tears away from her eyes. The sweetness so directly contrasted the bitterness of the setting that it almost made her teeth hurt, but Newt was smiling and that's all she would ever need to be happy.

"Does this mean we're…" He trailed off and Tasha gave him a lopsided grin.

"I'd say so." She told him. He kissed her again, so warm and happy and tender that she couldn't help but sigh contentedly. They sat together for the rest of the night, beside one another, with Tasha's head on Newt's shoulder, fingers interlocked. They didn't sleep, but they didn't really talk, because it's not what they did. It was a few hours until dawn when Tasha felt Newt's heavy sigh and she turned to look at him. His face fell, so bleak after his bright smile.

"How did you survive in the Maze?" He asked, quietly. Tasha sighed deeply, the two of them falling back into reality.

"I don't… I don't know. I really don't." She looked up at the door and shook her head, "But, if anyone can make it, it's Minho." She said, seriously, for the first time hoping and believing that the others could make it back. If she could, so could they.

"Do you really believe that?" Newt asked, voice containing only the barest notes of hope. Tasha's expression was grim but determined.

"I have to."