To Love *The Maze Runner/Newt Fanfic*

Chapter 34

"I don't understand," Someone whispered, "This absolutely sucks."

"What happened to him?" I heard Victoria cry.

"We don't know," Alby whispered, "Found him lying on the ground, out cold, barely breathing. A bloody mess- and I mean that quite literally."

"You think he got attacked by something?" Clint asked.

"I bet it was a buggin' griever! He seemed close to the wall, so maybe he climbed trying to escape it- I don't know," Alby answered, clearly frustrated at the fact that he didn't know what happened.

"This is awful." I heard Jeff cry.

"Does Brianne know?" Someone asked. I leaned closer to the door. My ear pressed against it. Through the sliver of space between the open door and the doorframe, I could see Jeff and Victoria, arms wrapped around each other, and a serious looking Alby standing next to them.

"She knows something happened. She doesn't know what though," Victoria spoke, her face wet with tears.

"Someone has to tell her," I think this was Minho speaking. I hadn't even known he was in the room until then, "It's only a matter of time before she wakes up."

That was it; I'd heard enough.

I kept walking until I reached the medjacks room. The door was twisted shut. I leaned against it, listening for any noises. Once hearing nothing, I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

I didn't know what to expect. To see Newt's lifeless body covered by a cloth, showing once and for all that he was dead? Or if I half expected him to be standing at the window, ready to admit that this was all some practical joke he played on me?

But neither was confirmed as I slid into the room, closing the door silently behind me. Newt lied on the cot motionless. He wasn't covered like I expected a dead person to be, but he wasn't writhing in pain alive either.

I took a few shaky steps forward, my head tilting to the side, as I stared at him. A couple cuts above his eyebrow were dripping blood down his face. A cut on his lip had caused swelling. His body was exposed from the waist up. His chest bruised and cut up. And he looked awful but I didn't know if he was dead.

Newt's eyes were peacefully closed and his lips were slightly parted. This was a good sign right? It scared me how peaceful he seemed. Was this what death looked like? I guess, Newt got what he wanted then: peace.

I came up closer to the bed, staring at Newt. He wasn't breathing. Or at least his chest wasn't rising up and down.

How could I not tell?

Am I dreaming?

Why can't I see if he's dead or not?

I brought my shaking fingers up to his nose, just as a final check. To come to a final verdict.

My fingers were met with nothing. No puff of air. Newt wasn't breathing.

I inhaled sharply, moving my hands down to his neck, to feel for a pulse. This couldn't be happening. I can't let this happen. Newt couldn't be dead.

I can do something. I can save him.

I placed my pointer and middle fingers on his neck, with only slight pressure. My fingers felt the soft and slow thump of blood under his skin.

I almost fainted, my vision spotted with black dots.

So Newt was alive? Newt hadn't died! Everything was okay.