Everywhere, Everything ◆ Thomas ◆ TMR

013 - Ben Of The Runners

"Ari?" A cautious voice whispered.

She closed her arms tighter around her knees, her lungs protesting against her hunched position. The night had been colder than usual, but now the sky had started brightening as she watched the Runners make their way into the maze.

"Did you stay up here all night?" The voice asked again. She felt a presence next to her, sitting so close she could feel his warmth, but she didn't want to burrow into it like usual. Newt wasn't looking at her, but had joined her peoplewatching, their gazes cast over the waking Gladers.

"You should've seen the way he looked at me," she whispered finally, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak. "I knew I was one of them, but I thought – I didn't think it was that bad, but the way he looked at me, Newt." Her eyes were burning and all she wanted was to close them, but every time she did, the image of Ben flashed before her. "Maybe Alby should've just let him kill me."

It didn't seem like he knew quite what to say. He played with his fingers, and a few times he sucked in a breath in preparation to speak, only to let it out again. Finally, he let the words out, but there was a vulnerability to his voice that she didn't expect. "I used to be a Runner."

Her brows furrowed as she turned her head to him. The topic change was not only unpredicted, but also confusing. His teeth found a home in his bottom lip, and it seemed that he was doing his best to avoid looking at her.

She made a noise of confusion, wondering where he was taking the conversation. "Why are you not anymore?"

He gently tapped his foot against the wooden flooring. "Because of my limp," he said, his voice drowned in sadness.

"Was it a griever?" She asked, even though something told her that wasn't it. He looked so far away, like he was remembering something terrible.

"No," he whispered, so low she almost didn't hear it. His breath stuttered on his next inhale, and he had grown smaller in height, caving in on himself like he wanted to hide. "I jumped. Off the maze wall."

She sat in stunned silence, allowing the words to really sink in. They never really did. She could see it in her mind's eye, and no matter how hard she tried to brush the image away, she was unsuccessful. She imaged Newt, standing on top of those high walls and looking down with tears in his eyes, all alone, shivering and sobbing. Or maybe even smiling, but that image was somehow worse. She pictured him, not even hesitating as he stepped off the ledge.

He laughed humorlessly. "But of course, being the shuck-face I am, my foot got caught in the ivy. Minho was the one who found me and brought me back."

She wanted to reach out and touch him. Her hand twitched, but she kept it where it was, holding onto her knee. She wasn't sure what the protocol was for such a conversation. It seemed Newt took the decision for her, as he turned around where he sat and grabbed her arm. His eyes compelled her to meet them.

"This sort of thinking, Ari, it gets you nowhere," his voice cracked, and she'd never seen him look so vulnerable. It was like looking at a completely different person. She'd never noticed it before, but there was a hollow look in his eyes that reminded her of the ache in her chest. "I don't care who you were before, or what you've done, because that's not who you are anymore. That person doesn't exist anymore. And listen to me, alright? Are you listening?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"Don't roll your eyes, look at me." With a sigh, she obeyed. He held her gaze, not wavering. "Bad people do not sit around and wonder if they're bad. Bad people do not sit around and wonder if they're bad, because they do not care. You care, more than anyone I've ever met, and that already tells me what I need to know."