Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 5.

This chapter is going to be on the shorter side :(

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Minho watched in horror as Newt plummeted towards the Maze floor, towards his death. Panic shot through him, tears blurred his vision, his shaky voice echoed off the Maze walls.
"Newt!"
He turned away, tears fell from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. He couldn't bare to watch what was about to happen to his friend. He stood there, waited to hear the horrible sound of his body hitting the Maze floor. But it never came. Instead, the thick crack of a bone echoed off the walls, causing Minho to shudder.
Whatever just happened, it wasn't good.
He forced himself to turn back to the scene, one eye still closed. His heart seemed to drop to his feet as he stared at the sight before him. Whether it was with relief or fear, he didn't know.
Newt hung upside down, his ankle caught in a strand of ivy. Blush gushed from his ankle, which was bent at an unnatural angle. The scarlett blood leaked down his body, over his head, and dripped on to the floor below him. Minho approached the boy, relief flooding over him as he saw the faint rise and fall of Newt's chest. It was short, ragged breaths, barely noticable, but there all the same.
He was alive.
His eyes were open, though glazed over with pain. He seemd conscious, but completely out of it. He was loosing blood fast, especially in the angle he was hanging at.
"You're so stupid, Newt." Minho's voice shook with sobs as he attempted to wipe some of the blood from his friend's face. It was then he noticed a second wound- a large gash in his forehead. "She's alive, you slinthead. She's fucking alive."
A raspy, wheezing sound came from Newt, as if he were attempting to speak, and then his eyes closed.
"Why'd you do this, man." Minho knew that he could no longer hear him, that he was passed out cold, but that didn't stop him from rambling on. "You're so shucking stupid."
He reached up and attempted to untangle his angle. His whole foot was swollen and purple, bent almost all the way backwards. He was afriad to touch it, that it would hurt his friend.
But he had to get him back. If he didn't, Newt were surely die out here, and soon. Minho pushed all doubts aside and began to untangle his pathetic excuse of an ankle.
"I'll get you home, buddy," he said quietly. "I promise."
He gently lowered Newt into his arms, surprised by the boy's weight. The sun was beginning to set, casting an eerie orange glow to the Maze walls. It wasn't long before the Doors closed.
Feeling a mixture of panic and adrenaline rush through his body, Minho began carrying Newt back towards the Glade as fast as he could. He was surprisingly heavy, despite his thin build, and Minho had a hard time carrying him at a fast pace. He nearly tripped more than once, though he quickly regained his balance and kept going.
And then he heard it. The metallic groaning of the Maze's inner sections. They were beginning to close. Any minute now, and the Doors would begin closing for the night.
Picking up his pace, ignoring the exhaustion aching at his legs, he turned a corner. He was so close to making it, only a few more turns. He turned right, then left, and then right again.
The Glade was in view. A mere twenty yards away. He was going to make it.
He saw the faint outline of Alby and a few other Gladers. Their faces lit up at the sight of him, only to be replaced by dread a moment later.
Though Minho felt no fear at that moment, only relief. He made it back in time. He saved his best friend.

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"What the shuck even happened?"
Minho ignored Alby's question. He was breathing heavily, shaking violently, as he stared at the broken boy laying before him. Newt's ankle was wrapped up, his head bandaged. He lay still, in the same state of unconsciousness Emily was in. He looked almost peaceful, as if he weren't in any pain; it only hurt Minho even more to see him like that.
When he woke- if he woke- it just be just the opposite.
"Minho," Alby snapped his fingers in front of his face, causing him to snap out of his daze. "Answer me. What happened?"
Minho stared at the ground, his eyebrows stitched together as he fought to process any words.
"He- he jumped, Alby." He managed to choke out, his voice barely more than a whisper. "He jumped right off the shuck wall. His ankle got tangled in some ivy, stopped him from falling all the way. He'd be dead right now if it weren't for that ivy." He brought his hands up to his head, rubbed his temples as he closed his eyes, attempting to clear the jumble of thoughts. "I was almost too late."
"Hey," Alby knelt down beside him. His eyes were full of sympathy, something Minho wasn't used to seeing anymore. "You did make it, and that's all that matters. You saved his life."
"Maybe." The word came out more as a croak, and Minho had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying once again.
"I'll leave you alone, alright?" Alby stood up, patted him on the shoulder. "Take all the time you need to calm down."
Minho didn't answer, though Alby didn't really seem to mind. He exited the room, shutting the door behind him. It was then when Minho finally let the tears fall.
He buried his face into his hands, his whole body shaking from the sobs. He was so close to loosing them both- the only two people he could really call his friends. He almost lost them, and all because of some stupid punishment.
It all went back to George, and his stupid actions. It was his own fault that Emily killed him. It was his fault that she was Banished, that she got stung. That she's been unconscious for a week; that she died, and came back to life. It was his fault that Newt almost killed himself, that he was laying in bed, unconscious, his ankle broken and will probably never be the same. It was his fault.
Minho was glad that he was dead. He knew he sounded like a heartless jerk, but it was true. The boy caused too much trouble; he always did, ever since he arrived in the Box. Minho always knew he was trouble, and boy, was he right.
It was because of him that he almost lost the two people he cared the most about.
Minho forced himself to calm down. They were both alive, and that was all that mattered now. Though he still couldn't help but feel a burning rage towards everything and everyone- and yet he had no idea why.
Minho's gaze traveled over to Emily, who was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room. He stood up, patting Newt's shoulder before heading over to her bed. He knelt beside her, surprised himself by taking her hand in his.
He spoke to her in a low whisper, barely audible even to himself.
"I know I should just be grateful that you're alive, and I am, trust me. But you need to wake up. Please, Emily."
His eyes widened as he felt her hand twitch in his. Her eyes fluttered in their sockets, though remained closed. It was as if she could hear him, as if she were trying to wake up. Minho felt a flicker of hope and squeezed her hand. He turned around and looked at Newt's unconscious, broken body across the room.
"Do it for Newt," He said. He turned back to her and raised his voice. "You need to do it for Newt. He's broken, Emily. He needs you here. Please, just do it for Newt."
He jumped back, releasing his hand from hers as she sucked in a deep breath. He stared at her, wide-eyed, as her eyes shot open.
Her voice was shaky, raspy from not being used in over a week, as one word- a name- fell from her lips.
"Newt."

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This is literally the shortest chapter I have ever written o.o
Idk, it's not the best I've written, either. But I tried.
I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter ;3 I'll try, at least.
Until next time <3