The Girl Glader (Updated, edited and revised version)

The Aftermath

Y/n's POV

Images flash before me. People in white lab coats, tests, blood being taken, a cafeteria full of children my age and some younger. Sneaking around with Minho, Newt and Alby. Others, such as running through halls with my brother Thomas, Thomas being ripped from my arms, surgeries, experiments, the screams of the children. Newt being ripped from me as they took him to send him up in the Maze. Thomas turning his back on me as they took me to send me up. Another girl with dark hair, telling me to trust the process and that "WICKED IS GOOD." over and over again. In the final image, I am in a glass container full lf water. I slowly start suffocating, banging my fists on the glass, faces staring at me. A new face pops up and the water floods out of the container to reveal Newt, who takes my hand, telling me to run.

I gasp for air, keeping my eyes clenched shut. As my breathing slowly settles down, I become more aware of the ache in my back and of the presence of other people around me. Slowly opening my eyes, I look around and see Newt to my right, Minho to my left, Clint at the ed of my bed and Jeff tending to Thomas in the bed beside me. Minho grabs my hand, a small smile forming on his lips. He gives it a small squeeze and I squeeze back.

"How are you feeling, y/n?" Clint asks, gently pushing Newt out of the way to get a closer look at my condition.

"My back is sore. And I feel like I'm going to be sick." I reply, earning a chuckle from Minho.

"Still feel like chucking people off the Cliff?" Minho asks, earning a snigger from Clint. I close my eyes, holding back a laugh.

"Yeah, actually." I reply. "Are you offering to be the one thrown?"

"No!" He says, placing a hand to his chest.

I look over at Newt. He seems to be avoiding eye contact and he looks to have been crying. As he meets my gaze, he quickly walks out of the room. I look at Jeff tending to Thomas.

"What happened? To me, to Thomas...?"

"Grievers attacked. I presume you remember that much?" I nod before wincing. "Well, you jumped in front of one so it didn't get Newt. Got stabbed in the back by one of its nasty legs, not too deep though, thankfully. After that, you got Stung."

"Stung?"

"Yeah, you were out for a good three days." Clint adds, handing me a glass of water. I take a sip. "You came to for a few seconds before going back under, probably because of the pain in your back." I take a moment to let it process. I remember jumping in front of the Griever, but the rest... I guess that explains what happened to me but what about Thomas?

"And what happened to him?" I ask, referring to Thomas in the bed beside me.

"That shuckface, he...uh..." Clint starts.

"He purposely got himself Stung. Said he 'needed to know.' Or something like that." Minho finishes. I nod, still processing. "The Grievers have been taking one Glader a night. They have taken Adam, Chris, Zart, Liam...so many great Gladers, gone like that." He adds sadly.

I close my eyes to hold back tears. Zart? He was such a great friend. I can't believe he's gone. A piece of hair falls in my face and I move my hand to brush it away, a spasm of pain getting sent down my back.

"Can you...?" I gesture to try and indicate that I want to sit up instead of laying down. Minho and Clint immediately rush to help, gently placing a hand on my back and pulling me up. Spasms run down my spine, making me wince. I try to hide them though. Once I am seated upright, Clint grabs a glass.

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to get some more water." He exits the room and I am left with Minho.

"I really thought I had lost you." Minho says quietly. "We had to move you to the Slammer at night and in the mornings, we brought you back here." He sighs, placing his head in his hands. "From now on, I am going to be there. I'm not letting you get hurt. Not again."