All That We Are | NEWT (tst)

Eleven | THE MEMORIES THAT HAUNT

Night Three

Newt kept his eyes firmly fixed on the rucksack in his hands, digging through the pockets perhaps more violently than necessary, fighting to keep his focus on anything but the pressure weighing heavy on his chest.

He recognised it as guilt, and decided immediately that he didn't like the feeling.

It was something he hadn't felt the sting of since that morning he climbed the maze wall, when it had tugged at the back of his mind, a futile reminder of what he was leaving behind. It had slammed into him again full force when his eyes cracked open days later, and saw a head of red hair asleep at his bedside.

Newt swallowed, clearing his throat, shoving the rucksack aside. Other than a few empty wrappers and a single sock caked in dirt, it was empty.

"This is pointless," Frypan groaned, tossing down a pair of pants that looked like they once belonged to a small child. "This is all just junk."

"I found these at least." Jack held up a bundle of what looked like soup tins, the logos so faded Newt could barely tell what they said. "There's like ten of them down here. Should we grab them all?"

"Yeah." Newt nodded and chucked him the rucksack. "Put them in there."

"You think this is all gonna be enough?" Frypan asked suddenly, and there was something tentative in his voice that had Newt looking up from where he was rummaging through a discarded pile of clothes.

His fingers caught on a soft material, and he glanced back down to see what it was.

There, tucked underneath a ripped raincoat and a large black puffer vest, was a jacket made of denim washed a greyish taupe colour. There were two large pockets on each breastplate, the silver buttons on them dull with age. The top tapered off into a large hood – it was made for a woman, and he instantly thought of Ada.

He clutched it to his chest, rising to his feet, shooting Frypan a confused glance. "The food? Probably not, but I'm sure there's more-"

"No," Frypan said awkwardly, and Newt had never seen him look so put out, so lost. "No, I mean... all this, is it gonna be enough for us to survive? I mean, we don't know how long we're going to be out there, or what's waiting for us, or-"

Newt suddenly regretted ever speaking up about his fears, for ever letting that leader's mask slip for even a second. For letting any ounce of his terror seep into the people around him.

He remembered, suddenly, why Ada and Alby didn't want to tell people that there was no way out when they had finished mapping the maze. He had been hurt by it, betrayed and broken, but the look on Frypan's face was a stark reminder of why it had been the right decision.

Alby wasn't there anymore, but Newt was. Ada was. And he wouldn't let her shoulder that burden alone anymore.

"We're gonna be alright, you hear me?" Newt asked, moving forward to squeeze Frypan's shoulder.

"How do you know that? You said it yourself-"

"I know what I said. I didn't mean it."

"That why you took Ada's head off for it?" Frypan raised an unamused eyebrow. "You snapping at her like that doesn't just happen, Newt."

That guilt was back.

Newt ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Okay, you're right. This is dangerous, more than. We're stupid for doing it."

"Do you think we should have stayed?" Jack asked quietly.

Newt's throat was dry all of a sudden, the words getting lost there.