Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 7.

Feeling as if her heart was falling into a black abyss, Emily stared down at the broken boy before her. She wiped a tear from her eye, squeezing her eyes shut, tried to stop herself from shedding one more tear. She forced herself to look away from the limp body of Newt, and over to Minho.
The Runner only stared at her, his eyebrows ceased together in a look of concern. She fought to process words, but the only sound that escaped her parted lips was a sob.
She couldn't help but feel angry towards Minho. How could he keep something like that from her? But, then again, how could she not have noticed the crippled body of the boy she loved laying right across the room from her?
"I'm sorry, Emily." Minho's voice was shaky as he spoke, though Emily barely heard him over the ringing in her ears. She shook her head, tried to push away the jumbled thoughts that ran through her mind.
She suddenly felt a wave of dizziness, and found herself crashing to the floor. She found it hard to catch her breath, as if she were in a tight room- the walls slowly closing in on her... crushing her.
"What happened?" She managed to choke out, though it was hard to understand, as sobs shook her whole body by now.
"He's broken," was Minho's answer.
Somehow, through all the pain she currently felt, she managed to scoff.
"I can see that, Minho. But what happened?"
Minho stared at her for a moment, his eyes darted all over her face, as if he were searching for the right words.
"I think it'll be better if you heard it from him. You'll need his comfort and-" he paused, swallowed before continuing. "I don't think it's my place to tell what happened."
Emily pursed her lips, though said no more. She turned back to Newt, covered her mouth as she stared at the boy. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed together as if he were in deep thought. He almost looked peaceful- almost. If only it weren't for the bandage wrapped around his head, ruffling his already messy hair and the cast wrapped around his swollen, twisted ankle.
"What if he doesn't wake up?"
She could've sworn she heard Minho laugh, but when she turned to look at him, any signs of amusement that might have previously been on his face had disappeared, only to be replaced by a slight frown.
"He's not that badly injured, Em," he said to her. "Not nearly as bad as you were- and you still woke up after all the klunk you've been through. He's bound to wake up soon, so don't you worry your pretty little head of yours."
No matter how much she wanted to believe him, she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She had a bad feeling in her gut that made her believe something terrible was going to happen. She forced the feeling away, however, and focused on positive thoughts.
Like the look on his face when he saw her when he woke.
The image in her mind sent sparks flying through her; the way his deep chocolate brown eyes would shine as he stared at her, his plump lips curling into a smile. She found herself dozing off into a daydream and, for a moment, she almost forgot about the scene in front of her.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Alby staring down at her. It startled her, as she didn't hear him enter the room. His lips curled into a small smile- something that she wasn't used to seeing from the boy.
"It's good to see you are awake," he said softly. Emily found herself smiling up at him- fake, of course, as she still had not forgiven him for what he did to her.
"Thanks, Alby."
She realized that it was best not to hang on to the past anymore, but to the present. It wouldn't do her any good to go moping around about that night, and hold a grudge against Alby for what he did. He did it for the good of the Glade, after all- what he thought Nick would do. What he knew Nick would do. She couldn't blame him. She knew she would do the same thing for the people she cared deeply about, the people she loved.
She smiled at Alby again, this time a real, genuine smile. He returned it, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he did so. The smile felt a wave of reassurance through Emily, and she knew she could get used to seeing it.
Alby stepped back and turned to Minho, whispering a few inaudible words to him. Though he'd glance her way every few seconds or so, so she knew it must have been about her.
"We'll leave you alone." He finally turned to look at her. "Try and get some rest, okay?"
She nodded, feeling quite thankful that she would get some privacy. As the two boys left the room, Minho flashing a small smile to her in the process, she turned back to Newt. She was tired, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.
She laid her head on Newt's toned stomach, listening to the sounds of his shallow breathing as she closed her eyes. She laid there for a while- thinking. She wondered what could have possibly happened to Newt. She knew it must have been horrible, to lead him to lay unconscious in a bed for who knows how long.
Her mind wandered back to the night. The night that started this all. She remembered the panic she felt inside her- like none other she ever felt before. She remembered the looks on Minho's face as he was forced to push her towards her death. She had never seen such sadness on someone's face and, believe it or not, it made her feel a new found respect towards the Runner.
But the thing she remembered the most about that night- the image clearest in her mind- was the look on Newt's face. As she was being pushed closer and closer to the decreasing gap in the Maze wall, it was as if something snapped inside of him. She had never seen such emotions on someone's face- panic, fear, sadness, all mixed together in one look on his beautiful face. It broke her heart, but it also kept her going. As she ran through the Maze that night, fighting for her life against the Grievers, his face was sketched into her mind the whole time. It was what kept her going, what kept her alive. She wanted to make it back, to turn the frown on his face into a smile. It was her goal, and she knew she had to make it happen one way or another.
She just hoped it was worth it.

She found herself drifting off into sleep, darkness washing over her, though the peaceful darkness didn't last for long.
She began to dream- or remember. It was normal for her now, to have dreams of her past life. It had gotten to the point where, if she went to sleep and didn't dream, she would think something was wrong with her.
She's in a room- one that seems to be some sort of classroom. Around her are the kids, all focusing on something in front of them. But she can't see the younger version of herself. She realizes with a jolt that she must be inside her body; she's reliving it in a different way, as herself once more.
The kids all seem to be at least thirteen and, for a moment, she assumes that they are all back in school. But then she realizes that the "teacher" that stands at the front of the room is wearing a lab coat.
They are in WICKED.
The "teacher", a woman with short auburn hair, is busy drawing some sort of design on the board. It is circular in shape, with many different lines running through it. Emily realizes that it must be a diagram of the Maze- it was the only explanation.
"Thanks to our little genius," the woman casts a quick glance towards Emily before continuing. "We were able to figure out the perfect way to study the killzone of our subjects. A Maze is obviously the perfect choice. It requires skill and hard work to figure out, which involves lots of thinking. The Maze is currently in construction, and will be finished soon. And that is when we will send in the subjects."
Emily knows that by subjects, the woman means kids but, of course, she wasn't aware of that then. She feels a hand on top of hers, and turns to see Newt smiling at her. He squeezes her hand before turning her attention back to the lady.
Emily feels proud as the woman congratulates her once more. In the present time, she knows that she would only be disgusted with herself because of her "brilliant plan".
She is pulled back into the dream world as the woman continues to talk, eyeing each of the kids in turn.
"I think it is safe to tell you kids who and what our subjects will be."
The kids lean forwards, and Emily finds herself doing the same.
"Of course, if we want to find a cure, we have to have test subjects that are alive," the woman says. "There is a species that has become immune to the virus, and they are very valuable to our tests. Do you know what this species is?" the kids stay quiet, so the woman continues. "Humans, kids. You."
She begins pacing around the room, the sounds of her heels taping against the stone floor every time she took a step.
"There will be two different mazes, two different groups. You four-" she points to Emily, Newt, Thomas and Teresa each in turn. "Will be part of group A. While you-" she points to Oliver, who is staring up at her with wide-eyes. "-will be placed with Group B."
A series of groans escape from the kids' mouths, though Emily keeps quiet.
"Yes, yes I know how horrible it is for you to be separate after such a long time... But you all are an important part to the Trials. You have been chosen by me to represent us, and we need to count of you to do what you were sent into the Maze to do. Do you understand?" The kids nod, and she seems satisfied with the response. "One of you lucky ducks has been chosen to be sent into the Maze with the very first group. As soon as the Maze is finished with construction, you will be put through a series of... tests, and then sent off into the Maze."
She pauses, most likely for dramatic effect. Her eyes scan over each of the kids in turn before resting on one boy- Newt.
"Newt," she says happily. "You're our lucky duck."

Emily woke up with a start. Her neck ached from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, but she quickly shook the feeling off. She raised her head, a yawn escaping her lips as she stared down at Newt. His lips were parted slightly, soft snores escaping them as he sleep.
She couldn't help but smile to herself as she stared at him. He seemed so much younger when he slept, which seemed almost impossible for him. She found herself leaning down, planting a small, quick kiss on his moist lips.
Once again, she rested her head on his chest, listening the sound to his breathing- which was now a lot stronger than it was earlier. It wasn't the most comfortable position there was, but she'd much rather be by his side than in her own bed, so she sucked it up.
She felt his chest shift and, for a moment, she thought he was starting to wake up. But then she realized that it must've been only his breathing, though she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointed.
She tried to fight the sleep as she felt herself dozing off, as she didn't want to remember anymore. She remembered enough and she was beginning to think that they were better off staying in the Glade for the rest of their lives.
She was quickly brought back into reality as a familiar, soft voice filled her ears. It took her a minute to process his words. But she recognized the accented voice immediately- and the sound of it sent a wave of warmth through her, as if she were finding out the world was okay again.
She lifted her head, only to have her eyes lock with the familiar, chocolate brown ones.
"Hey, princess."