Before Thomas {A Maze Runner Fanfiction}

S1-Ep18: Newt's Decision

Time passed in a blur. Hank, Doug, and Will's names were added to the Wall along with the others, and they were buried beside Ric in the Deadheads. After miner deliberation, everyone agreed that P.F. would receive the antidote Elizabeth had brought with her, and after a few days he was in full health. While no one regretted using their only antidote on P.F., the Gladers were much more aware than usual that they did not have any more of it. Dave was released from the Slammer for good, but the heavy weight from Ric's death had returned a hundredfold.

A month passed, and then another. Winston was sent up, followed by Louis and Snow. Clint and Jeff became the first Med-Jacks, realizing their interest in doctoring the other Gladers. The two of them became fast friends and spent the bulk of their time together, which Elizabeth thought was sweet. Louis joined the Builders and Gally replaced Hank as leader, though he wasn't too thrilled about the prospect at first. He really missed Hank and his silent, yet authoritative presence.

Winston became Keeper of the Slicers and Snow joined Elizabeth and Zart as a Track-hoe. He wasn't Ric, but Elizabeth enjoyed working with him. He had a lot of enthusiasm and liked to keep things positive. Like Ben, he expressed interest in Elizabeth and told her as soon as he knew. Unlike Ben, he left her alone and stopped bothering her about it after she turned him down. That alone was enough to earn him her respect. He didn't make things awkward, and their relationship did not change when she turned him down. In fact, it improved.

Chris and Ben were still problems for Elizabeth. She had to explain almost every day to Ben that she was not interested in him romantically, and twice Chris cornered her and made uncomfortable contact. Nothing as serious as the first time when he'd touched her breast, but he came dangerously close to her bottom once, and he liked to grab her waist. He mostly tried to elicit unease. He took some sort of sadistic pleasure in Elizabeth's reactions. She had yet to tell anyone about his behavior. Every time she tried working up the courage to say something, embarrassment and shame stopped her.

At night, Elizabeth and Newt walked to the Wall together and talked about their day, leaving nothing out. Elizabeth was honest with her feelings and daily sorrows, and Newt confided in her about his grief over the unexpected Griever attack. They did their best to comfort each other and share each other's burdens. It was great and all, but Elizabeth got the feeling that he was keeping something from her. It hurt her to see him so reserved and withdrawn from everyone. She tried to get him to talk about it, but he was being so awkward with her. She was closer with him than ever before, but she was also farther away. He couldn't always bring himself to look her in the eyes, and every time they shared physical contact he flinched away and got shy. It was odd, certainly, but more than that it was painful and heart-wrenching for her.

"You know you can tell me anything, right, Newt?" she told him one night. She reached for his hand, but he pulled away before she could grab it. So instead, she leaned in to him and pressed against his side, savoring the feeling of the heat from his body on hers. She closed her eyes and turned her face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He shifted uneasily.

"I know," he said, his voice somewhat strangled.

---

Elizabeth was holding the vial of green liquid again. The memory potion. She stared at it and tried to imagine what remembering would be like. How would it feel? Would it smell different? Taste different? Seem different? Once her eyes had been opened, would she be able to go back? Not knowing was hard, but maybe knowing was harder. She remembered the first time she and Newt talked together at the Wall.

"I can't," she whispered. She held the vial at her chest and blinked away tears that were forming. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it."

She carefully wrapped the vial in bubble-wrap and put it in it's usual place in the wooden crate. She still hadn't worn any of the clothes, or opened the candy. It remained in the corner farthest away from her bed, like an unwanted guest.