Variant | Newt

1 | the first

"Looks dehydrated too," added Jeff.

I sighed, frustrated. The last thing we needed was another death in this Glade.

"Alright," I spoke sternly, "Get her to the Homestead and fix her up. I don't want no one touching her, you hear me boys? No one lays a hand on her. She's hurt and she's dying so we're gonna help her, got it? She's no play-thing."

"Not yet," I heard someone mumble.

I clenched my jaw, seething at the comment. As I searched for who said it, my eyes fell on Vinnie - a newer kid. I gritted my teeth, not surprised it was him who said the gross comment. The greenie didn't know when to shut up, and was always complaining. Even Gally, the biggest knucklehead in the Glade, was sick of Vinnie. I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping my anger would convey through my words. "Hey! I mean it. Med-jacks are now the only people allowed to see this girl. I don't want any klunk from anybody!"

I nodded at Clint and Jeff, who understood my commands. They clumsily tried to pick her up, but the two couldn't exactly balance her between them. Minho groaned and shoved one of them out of the way, gingerly grabbing the girl so one arm was cradled around her back, and the other arm hooked under her legs.

The crowd dispersed as I followed Minho and the Med-jacks to the homestead, where our make-shift medical room was. Luckily there wasn't anyone sick in the Glade and no one in recovery, other than Newt.

That slinthead. I know I should be sympathetic, but I felt guilty as all hell and ashamed I didn't help him sooner. He was my second-in-command, my best friend; but I wasn't enough and he decided to....

I still can't believe he jumped.

That was a month ago. Kid still hasn't moved since Minho and I dragged him outta the Maze. Jeff and Clint told me they'd done all they could, but they weren't no surgeons, and Newt did some bad damage to himself. He's lucky to be alive, I suppose, though the kid acts like he's dead. He's barely spoken since the incident and refuses to the leave our med room. He just...lays there, staring, sleeping, barely eating. I bet the amount of guilt and shame I'm feeling isn't even the slightest bit as much that he's feeling - I just wish he would let us help him.

There were two cots in the med room. Newt slouched on the cot in the far corner, barely acknowledging us as we poured into the small room. He didn't say anything to us, but his attention was peeked as he realized who Minho was carrying. He looked at me for an explaination.

"She came from the Maze," I said, giving it to him straight. "We don't know anything else."

"Looks like ya got yourself a roomie, Newt," Minho joked from behind me, seeing Newt's interest in the situation.

A look of worry crossed over his face. It was almost nice, to see some sort of emotion on Newt's face - it's not like he was expressive any other time.

"Set her here," Clint said, prepping the cot next to Newt. "Jeff, can you get the--"

"Restraints? Got 'em," Jeff finished, rummaging through a basket nearby. My chest tightened, but I didn't show any discomfort on my face. The thought of the restraints made me anxious, though - last time we used them, it wasn't pretty.

Minho carefully laid the girl on the cot, situating her so she could be comfortable. As Clint and Minho tightened the restraints around her wrists - two belts that connected to the bed frame - Jeff started unwrapping the cloth that was around her thigh. As he pulled the blood-soaked material off of her, she stirred, making the boys jump back; expecting her to attack. She didn't wake up, it was only a moment of movement.