Losing Hope

Twelve

I slowly opened my eyes, immediately seeing Newt's still knocked out body. He hadn't moved the whole night, and his breathing seemed fine. I noticed Minho on the other side of the bed.

"How long have you been there?" I whispered, as if trying not to wake Newt up.

"About an hour," Minho answered. "I brought you breakfast, but you decided to sleep instead," he added, falsely offended. I looked behind me and saw the plate of food on the tiny table. I turned back to my friend.

"How long have I been sleeping?" I asked again, and he shrugged.

"I'd say half an hour."

I nodded, sighing. I had been up all night, sitting next to Newt after Minho had brought me a chair instead of letting me sit on the ground. Alby decided it was fine to leave me with Newt, but made sure I knew that I could go and get him if I needed. Which I didn't. I took my eyes off of Newt and back at Minho.

"If you brought me breakfast an hour ago, that means-"

"I'm not running today. Because of that stupid Shank. Alby agreed to let me check up on him. He also told me to force you to get some sleep, so if he comes here today, tell him you slept at least three hours," Minho explained. I had a small smile at his words, looking back down at Newt.

"Do you think he hates me?" I asked quietly, and Minho sighed, leaning over Newt to stare into my eyes.

"If he hated you, he wouldn't have calmed down when you said you'd kill yourself too," he said, and even if his words were rough, I was grateful for his honesty. "I think you underestimate what you did to that Shank. I mean, yeah, he was a dick the last few days, but he was already like that before you came up that Box. Even only for a few days, you made him smile and go back to his cheerful self for a moment. If the Griever hadn't got Jack, we wouldn't be here. Trust me on this one."

I stared at him to find even just a flicker of lie, but he seemed completely honest. I smiled, thanking him, before leaning back on my chair. "I think I'll go get some food. I mean, hot food. Can I trust you with him?" I attempted a joke, and he smirked, waving his hand to send me away.

Turns out Frypan didn't have any leftovers, but he let me grab an apple and some cheese. I wasn't that hungry anyway, I just knew I needed to eat at least a little bit. I wandered around the main area, looking at the working boys. I was headed back to the Homestead when someone shouted my name. Alby was jogging towards me.

"How is he?" He asked me in a hushed voice.

"He's fine, I guess. He's still sleeping, and his leg twitches from time to time, but other than that he seems alright."

"Minho told me what happened. Looks like we've got ourselves a new Med-Jack. And a cute one at that, which is not nothing," he joked, and I had a small laugh.

"I only acted on instinct," I shrugged, not really wanting to take all the credits for what happened.

"Well you've got pretty good instincts," Alby commented. He placed a hand on my shoulder and walked with me towards the Homestead. "Look, I don't know if Minho told you, but I'd like to keep what happened between us. I told the others he slipped on something and hit his head on the way down, so if you could stick with that version, it would be nice."

I nodded, totally agreeing on the fact that the Gladers didn't need to know that their second-in-command tried to end his life. We reached the building and Alby left me to go check on the boys in Bloodhouse. I went back to Minho, dropping myself on my chair and taking a bite of my apple.

"I spoke with Alby. He told me what he said to the others," I mentioned and Minho nodded. We made little chat while I ate, until he decided it was his turn to go and get some food. I could tell he didn't like missing a day in the maze, but he would have probably been uneasy running while knowing Newt's state.

I leaned back on my chair and closed my eyes. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard a slight groan coming from the sleeping boy. I straightened up immediately, leaning in closer to him. He moved slightly, mainly his head at first, then blinked. He looked at the ceiling then his eyes fell on me.

He tried to say something, but it came out as a grunt, and I held back a laugh, handing him the freshly filled glass of water that was on the table. He hastily gulped it down, then looked back at me as I set the now empty glass away.

"Hey, Beanie," he finally said, his voice incredibly raspy. I had a small smile.

"Hey. You can drop the nickname, I have a real name now," I said, slightly proud.

"Really? What is it?"

"Caroline," I claimed, and he frowned.

"Doesn't suit you. I'm gonna keep calling you Beanie," he groaned out, attempting a laugh but ending up coughing.

"For that you need to be alive," I observed, not able to stop myself. He stared at me, bit his lip, and looked back at the ceiling in silence.

"Newt..." I started, unsure about how to phrase my words. "Why... what were you thinking? Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" He said, his jaw clenched, without even looking at me.

"You're seriously gonna make me say it?" I snapped, and he looked down at me, not saying anything. His expression was somewhere between angry and sorry, but I felt like he wouldn't admit what he did, at least not to me.

"Newt... believe it or not, I care about you. Even if you started being a dick with me two days ago. You're the first person who's been nice to me in here. Hell, you're the first person I wanted to run to when I remembered my name. And then I learned that you..." I trailed off, looking away from him.

"Beanie, listen to me, okay? You've been there a week. I've been here three years. I think you can understand that-"

"That you'd want to kill yourself? No, Newt, I don't understand. Okay, I don't get how you could think that you don't matter to Minho, or to Alby, or to any kid in here! Do you have any idea how wrecked Minho looked when he came in carrying you?" My head snapped towards him as the words fell out of my mouth. I knew I was being rough with him considering what had happened, but I couldn't help it. He slowly turned his head to look back up at the ceiling and swallowed hardly.

"I was going to say that I'm getting desperate," he croaked out. I bit my lip, looking at the wall. I took a breath to say something, but he cut me off.

"Caroline, look. I know that what I did was... probably not the best idea. But I'm sick of watching those Shanks die. Can you understand that? It's been three years and we're not even close to finding a way out. I just... I don't wanna be the next one. I don't want them to win on me. If I'm going to die, I don't want it to be because they decided I would," he explained, his voice cracking. He was crying, and my heart felt heavy as I stood up, biting my lips. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead I shook my head, walking out of the Homestead in silence.

..........................................

Angry, Caroline is angry. What do you guys think? Was she too rough with him? Let me know in the comment! Love you all.

~Laue