Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 20.

Her legs ached from running all night, heavy with fatigue as they hung limply from Minho's arms. Her head was pressed against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat thudding against her ear. It soothed her nerves, almost made her fall asleep right then and there.
But she forced herself to stay awake.
Voices spoke around her. She did not know what they were saying, but she did know that they belonged to Thomas and Minho. They sounded strained, exhausted. Though somewhat excited.
She could not blame them, however. They just did something that no one else has done before- survived a night in the Maze. Well, no one else except her.
Her eyes were open, but her vision was blurred. She could barely make out anything around her. Whether it was just because of exhaustion, or the sudden brightness of the rising sun, she did not know. She brought her hand to her face and rubbed her eyes until she started to feel them water.
"Easy there," she heard Minho chuckle lightly; his voice was faint, as if he were hundreds of feet away instead of right above her. "We don't want you irritating your pretty little eyes now, do we?"
She heard Thomas laugh beside her. His voice was faint, as if he were miles away, as well.
"Wh-where are we?" Emily choked out. Her voice sounded foreign to her somehow, as if it did not belong to her at all. She knew it was the exhaustion kicking in, making her disoriented.
"Almost back to the Glade." It took her a moment to recognize whose voice this belonged to, but she then realized it was Thomas who had spoken.
"Don't worry, you tired little shuck-face. You will see your boyfriend soon enough," This came from Minho.
"Why are you guys so energetic? I feel as if I am about to pass out at any given moment." Though this was true, Emily could slowly feel the energy trickling back into her at the thought of seeing Newt again.
"Trust me, we're just as tired as you are," Thomas said.
Emily groaned and threw her head back against Minho's hard chest. She longed to walk alongside them- their pace was far too slow for her liking- but the exhaustion that tugged at her feet held her back from doing so. A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over her, and for a moment, she felt as if Minho had dropped her, and she was falling to the Maze floor. She jumped, grabbed on to the nearest thing she could find- which so happened to be Minho's shirt. Her breath came in quick gasps, as if she had been running for hours all over again. Minho's grip tightened around her small, exhausted body and, though her eyes were closed and she could not see him, she knew he was probably staring down at her, his eyebrows furrowed, with concern written all over his face.
"We should hurry up," he said slowly, probably addressing Thomas. "She needs to rest, and in an actual bed instead of someone's arms."
"Well, I hope you do realize that, when we get back, Newt won't take his hands off of her long enough for that," Thomas said and snickered. She didn't know whether he meant that in a perverted way or not, but at that moment, she didn't exactly care. He was speaking again, saying something about a Griever, though she couldn't exactly make it out, as she was drowning in her own thoughts.
Her mind was racing with all of the events of the night before. Though one lingered, something that seemed important, but she just couldn't put her finger on it.
And then it clicked.
"Alby!" she shot up in Minho's arms, her eyes wide as she thought about the unconscious leader hanging somewhere in the Maze.
"What about him?" Minho looked over at Thomas, his eyebrows knitted together. Emily forgot that he still didn't know exactly what happened to the boy.
"Don't worry, Em," Thomas said. "He was fine when I left him. I buried him in the ivy so he would be hard to spot. Unless a Griever somehow found him, he should be fine."
"We need to go back for him," Emily insisted, wriggled in Minho's arms. She no longer felt tired, the exhaustion replaced with worry for Alby.
"And we will," Minho said. "But what we need to worry about right now is getting ourselves back to the Glade safely." he paused for a moment, looking around him as if he expected a Griever to explode out of the ivy. "There may be some rebel Grievers lurking around."
Emily sighed, relaxing in his arms once again. At this point, the word Griever didn't even bother her anymore. She was too exhausted to even care about any blood-thirsty monsters still lurking the Maze. She had enough of them to last her a whole separate lifetime.
She found herself drifting off into sleep. It wasn't a deep sleep, as she was still conscious of the conversation going on around her, but she wasn't exactly awake. She could just barely make out what the two boys were saying, but it was enough to make a smile form on her lips.
"She really is a survivor, huh?" This was Thomas, his words were laced with awe as he spoke.
"Emily?"
"No, the girl in the coma," Thomas retorted with a scoff. "Yes, Emily."
"Watch it there, Green Bean," Minho's voice was full of warning, though Emily knew he was only joking. "Yeah, she's a survivor, alright. Strongest one we've got, no doubt about that. I don't know where we'd be without 'er."
"I'm proud of her," Thomas said.
She felt Minho shift, and she guessed that he was looking at Thomas as if he had grown a second head- one of his signature looks, "Proud of her? Why?"
Thomas didn't speak, though Emily guessed that he was shaking his head, bringing the conversation to an end.