In The Maze

Chapter nineteen (Y/N)

There are mentions of depression in this chapter. The reason for bringing up Newt's depression again is because mental illnesses don't just go away, even if your life has improved/you're happier. I want this fic to be realistic. And that's the reality of mental illnesses, especially for those like Newt (& me) who have high-functioning depression.

I spent the rest of the day silently seething and avoided Newt like the plague. Since I ran all morning I technically had the rest of the day off. But with the Molotov cocktail of emotions threatening to explode within me, there was no chance I'd be able to relax so I grabbed my ax and began hacking away at the dead tree near the showers.

It was scheduled to come down anyway, having died nearly a year ago with most of its branches missing, so I used it as my metaphorical punching bag and took my aggression out on it. Any glader who passed by on their way to the showers or bathrooms took the long way by going around the back of the tree, keeping a healthy distance from my swinging arms. If they knew about our fight they didn't mention it.

Working through dinner and taking no breaks I managed to reduce the dead oak snag to a mere stump. Decaying bark and chunks of wood littered the ground and a layer of dust coated the surrounding grass. The rough, calloused skin on my hands negated the friction from swinging and prevented any blisters from forming. By the time I was finished demolishing the tree I was sweaty, worn out, and much more level-headed than when I'd started.

Gally came to check on me after dinner, eyes wide as they flicked between me and the pitiful stump. When he continued to stare I threw the ax down, blade in the ground so it stood up on its own, and said, "I need to shower. Will you play bodyguard for me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He cleared his throat and composed himself, gesturing over his shoulder to the Homestead. "I can wait if you wanna grab your stuff." He didn't pry or inquire why I'd asked him instead of Newt, which I was grateful for. I could've easily used the excuse that Newt was otherwise preoccupied but knew Gally would see through the lie. Despite his hard exterior, Gally is very perceptive and attuned to those he's close to. I am lucky enough to hold one of those positions.

It's just so much easier to ignore the elephant in the room rather than address it head on. And, frankly, I was in no mood to discuss the fight between Newt and me. Our first fight.

Mulling it over in my head served me better and made me feel marginally less horrible than if I were to discuss it aloud. Talking about it made it worse somehow; like I was admitting to everyone how much I screwed up. I already know I acted like a dick; I didn't need anyone pointing out the obvious.

Chuck, on the other hand, had little experience in the art of nuances and tact. He singled out my insecurities the first chance he got albeit unknowingly. "What's up with Newt?" Chuck asked later that evening while we stood outside of my room, his hands and arms cleaned of any mud smears. A small bandaid on his chin from where a stone nicked it. "He wasn't at lunch or dinner! And, he seems extra sad. Why weren't you at dinner, by the way? You shucking destroyed that tree too. Are you upset or something?"

I facepalmed. Being discreet was not one of Chuck's talents. We were just lucky no one else was in the hallway since everyone had already gone to bed or was hanging out somewhere else. Even luckier, was that Newt was nowhere near our vicinity and was instead discussing things with Minho and Alby in the Map Room. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in another argument with him while Chuck was present.

While I can't remember my parents, I had a strong inclination that watching your parents or parental figures argue would be unsavory and Chuck didn't deserve to experience that. Even if we weren't his real parents, it'd surely be uncomfortable and Chuck would probably find some way to take responsibility for our discord.