|Please Don't Leave Me| (Minho/TMR fanfiction)

~Chapter Three~

The sun had set in the Glade, marking my third day here. The first two had been spent, sentenced to two nights in the Slammer for my "outburst of violence" in the Homestead. Even though it had been two days since then, I still wasn't trusted and forced to spend the night on the near opposite of the Glade with Minho as some kind of guard.

I pulled myself into a sitting position against the large oak tree I had settled beneath. All I had was my jacket for warmth, apparently I didn't warrant a bedroll or pillow.

I let out a sigh and glanced up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, the star shining like jewels. My headache was mostly gone as was the voice in my head. I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. I still couldn't make sense of anything that was happening here and neither could anyone else. They avoided me, especially Newt, not that I blamed him. I thought about apologizing but doubted Minho would let me anywhere near him again.

I heaved a second sigh out of frustration. This was useless, I couldn't sleep. I had to go some where, anywhere. I didn't care if Minho was asleep or not. I rose from my spot on the ground.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Turns out he was awake.

"Can't sleep. I'm going for a walk."

"Your not allowed to go anywhere by yourself, Alby's orders."

I looked over my shoulder. "Try and stop me."

Minho swore under his breath as he climbed out of his sleeping bag and followed me. I pulled my jacket closer around me and jammed my hands into my pockets. He didn't appear to be cold at all since they'd given him a bed roll.

I headed for the woods and wandered aimlessly through before coming across a small creek. I moved forward, taking a seat on the bank. Minho made a disgruntled noise behind me, finding a tree to lean against. I had no doubt he'd fall asleep. The sound of running water always did.

I scanned the loose soil around me, finding a sturdy piece of rock to fit my purpose. I quietly tore a strip of cloth off the bottom of my pants, keeping my back to Minho. He was hardly moving, nearly asleep.

I grasped a large stick to my left and using the rock and fabric, managed to create a crudely fashioned knife. I smiled and held it in the moonlight. I proceeded to make four more knives, having five in all.

I smiled again. Now I had weapons. For what, I wasn't sure. But I felt reassured by having them. Almost as if in the absence of the voice I had adopted some foreign instinct to act upon. I just felt I was going to need them... For something.

There it was again that feeling. Like I was on the edge of remembering, like it was right there, in reach but out of my grasp. It was frustrating and I needed a plan, to figure what my headaches, dreams and visions all meant.

WCKD is good.

I jumped, despite myself. So much for the voice being gone.

You know who you are.

I slowly massaged my temples, trying to make sense of this all.

Remember.

Remember what was the real question. I knew this place and especially Minho felt familiar but that was it. There was nothing else piquing my memory.