𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝘀𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

The Maze spins around me, the vines and stone morphing into blotches of greens and greys, the blue sky enveloping it in an even more disorientating blend. Nausea rises in my gut, threatening to spew out of my mouth as my stomach heaves. I stumble around the corner, grasping onto the wall and leaning against it in an attempt to catch my breath. I don't catch it.

I stop breathing entirely.

Because lying in the middle of the floor, blood spewing from his chest... is Newt. "Newt? Newt!" A strangled scream escapes my throat as I rush over to him, dropping down next to him and holding his bloodstained head in my hand. His hair is matted with dried blood, turning the blonde strands a deep red. I choke on thin air as I stare into his eyes...

Glossed over. Unseeing.

"Please... please," I whisper, staring down into his eyes, greyed and staring at the sky. Staring at nothing. Newt's not dead. He can't be. Hot tears stream down my face.

He's gone.

I crumple over his limp body, letting my tears drip onto his unmoving chest, my sobs echoing around the Maze. How did he get here? How did he die? Newt doesn't go in the Maze. My brain spins and turns, evaluating every possibility as tears fall faster and faster. But that was it. Newt doesn't go in the Maze.

"It's just a vision," I whisper, opening my eyes to find Newt's body gone. I sit there for hours, staring at the floor where he once was, reminding myself that he's still alive.

❀

"Greenie? Y'look awful," Minho says as I approach him in the crossover between sections one and two. After not moving for what feels like a century, it feels taxing to stand up, to walk, but nevertheless I meet Minho at the exact time we planned, ready to head back.

"Cheers," I grumble.

"So are ya gonna tell me what's up or just stand there like a shank?"

I stare at Minho. What do I tell him? No one knows they've gotten this bad... not even Alby or Newt know. I'm not sure how long I'm thinking for before Minho lets out a frustrated sigh. Get on with it, his look reads. "I think there's something wrong with me."

"Why would'ya say that?"

"I'm going crazy," I say nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"What d'ya mean?" Minho says, tilting his head.

"I get these visions every day," I speak slowly, giving off a relaxed aura, which, gathering may Minho's concerned expression, he doesn't buy into one bit. "No matter what I'm doing. They last for maybe half an hour."

"Right..."

"I see blood mostly," I continue. "And grievers."

Minho takes a minute before he replies, staring at me in confusion. What does he think of me? Will he tell anyone? What's going to happen to me? Minho looks conflicted, confused — almost a mirror of my expressions. "Newt or Alby know?"

"No. And I intend on keeping it like that." I don't want Newt or Alby to know — especially not Newt. I know all he would do would be to worry, and I don't want him worrying about me. He's done enough of that already.

Minho asks, "Then why're you tellin' me this?"

"Because I trust you to not give me pity or sympathy."

Minho doesn't say anything, but places a hand gently on my shoulder, dipping his gaze to meet mine, his voice dropping into a serious tone. "They'll get better. When we get out of here."

"Which will be when?" I say, forcing out a fake laugh.

Minho frowns. "Who knows."

"That's reassuring."

Once we're back in the Glade, I do everything I can to ignore Newt — though thankfully, I don't think he's noticed. I don't want to look at him. Not after today. I don't want the risk of seeing his lifeless eyes stare past mine.

❀

"They're pretty, aren't they?" a familiar, soft voice asks.

"Yeah," I whisper to Newt, my eyes not leaving the sky, watching them wink down at me. It's the most peaceful and relaxed I think I've ever been here before. "They are."

"How come you're out here?" Newt says, lying down next to me and resting on his elbows, staring at the night sky, the stars twinkling in his eyes. The atmosphere is tranquil, lulling me into a calm trance as we both stare at the sky. After I returned from the Maze today, I didn't feel like speaking to anyone, not even Chuck. All I could see was Newt's lifeless face everywhere. In the trees. In the sky. Behind my eyelids when I tried to sleep. I don't look over at him — frightened to see his eyes glossed over.

"Couldn't sleep," I admit quietly. "You?"

"Neither," he murmurs.

We sit in complete and utter silence, lying in the grass, the blades tickling my body as I gaze up at the night sky in wonder. After seeing Newt's body on the floor like that, all I want to do is stay near him — make sure he stays alive. His presence calms me in a way that no one else's does, and the visions earlier on from the day fade away as his shoulder brushes against mine.

"Have you ever wondered about the stars?" I ask slowly. "How other people all over the world are staring at the same ones you are? There's got to be something outside of this place. And there's got to be someone staring at the same stars as us."

"Which one are you looking at?" Newt asks softly. I reach out, placing my hand under his chin and delicately guiding his head towards the direction of the star, electricity shooting through me as our skin brushes against each other.

"That one," I whisper. "Do you see it? It's beautiful."

I'm so captivated in looking at this star, so fascinated by the notion of it, and willing myself not to look at Newt, that I don't realise that he never even looked up at the sky. His deep brown eyes, lit by the gentle sparkle of the stars reflecting in them, never strayed from my face.

"Yeah," he whispers to me, his lips quirking upwards at the corners. "Beautiful's the word."

❀

I wake up the next day; something brushes against my hand. As I stir, I rub my eyes, looking to my left to find Newt sleeping soundly next to me. My gaze travels down to my hand, barely touching Newt's, our pinkie fingers linked, setting butterflies loose in my stomach. He looks so peaceful: his dark blonde hair falling messily over his forehead; his chest rising and falling so calmly it were barely noticeable and his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks in his sleep. I gingerly take my hand away from his, making him stir slightly, but he drops back into a deep sleep once more. I involuntarily smile at Newt before walking away from him towards Frypans, the butterflies still wild in my stomach.

Well, that's not what I expected to wake up to.

—
Finally. THE FLUFF IS HERE YA'LL! I was screaming writing this he's just so cute :)

I really apologise for the delay!

Hope ya'll are doing okay today! I'm always here to talk if you need to!

~ sophie xx