The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Thirty Six: The Safe Haven

Eyes fluttering open, I stare up at the ceiling of the cabin. I yawn, arching my back slightly as I stretch out my arms. "Newt...?" I mumble tiredly, slowly propping myself up on my left elbow as I rub the sleep out of my eyes with my right hand. In the golden illumination of the sunlight seeping in through the small circular window on the cabin door, I see the chair pushed back against the desk. Empty.
My heart immediately stops. "Newt?" I ask, darting my eyes back and forth amidst the small room, no sign of him.
What if that was only a dream? What if Newt isn't alive? What if his cold body is somewhere else on the ship, waiting for burial?
The panic immediately bursts from within me, and I jolt completely upright. "Newt?! Newt?!"
"I'm awake!" A slurred, thickly accented shouts in response, Newt's head suddenly popping up from beside the bed, his hair disarrayed, eyes squinting tiredly, but he quickly scrambles up onto the cot beside me, pulling me into his arms. The light veins that were branching off his left jaw have darkened, spreading a little further into his cheek.
Heart pounding frantically against my chest, I fail to steady my rapid breaths. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry- I just- I thought-"
"Shh, it's alright." He says reassuringly, yawning as he holds me tighter. "I understand..." He whispers, resting his head against mine as he closes his eyes.
Catching my breath as his embrace slowly calms me down, I ask, "What were you doing?"
"I fell asleep on the floor..." he mumbles.
I rest my hands over his whilst his arms are wrapped around me. "Why didn't you wake me? I could've gone to my cabin."
"You looked so peaceful; I didn't want to wake you," he admits, "nor was I going to leave you alone when you could get night terrors."
Frowning, I look down at his hands. I can see the darkening veins beginning to bulge from his skin. "You need more Serum."
"Alright, just give me five more minutes..." he whispers tiredly, nestling his head atop of mine and exhaling deeply through his nose.
Sighing softly, I let Newt continue to cling to me, leaning against me, half asleep. I close my eyes, soaking up his warmth as my heart finally steadies, relieved that I was merely overreacting.
I feel his heart beating with a gentle rhythm, his soft, tired breaths steadily trailing behind them, as if following the tender beat.
A quiet squeaking sound interrupts the music of Newt's life, and I open my eyes just as the cabin door opens, Vince muttering to himself before freezing in the doorway when his blue eyes fall on us like a deer in headlights.
Newt, lifting his head to meet eyes with the man, smiles. "Good morning, Vince."
"How long have you been up?" He asks, slowly closing the door behind him.
Inhaling deeply, Newt slowly releases me and rises to his feet, asking, "The first time or the second?"
"Both." The man replies, folding his arms as he furrows his brows together.
Newt ponders for a moment as he attempts to brush out his bedhead with his fingers. "I first woke up at about four, and then I fell asleep around five. I woke up just now."
"Four?" Vince asks, leaning against the desk. "And you didn't attempt to wake someone up?"
"I had no need to. (y/n) was just outside."
"You were still up that late?" Vince's eyes shift to me.
I nod slightly, turning and kicking my feet over the side of the cot.
"That's why I let her rest in here." Newt adds.
His eyes still locked on me, Vince's face morphs into a paradoxical expression of concern and relief. He huffs a sigh and shifts his eyes back to Newt, eyeing the boy for a few moments. "Is this the best he's gotten?" He asks me, lowering his eyes to Newt's veiny hands that are exposed from the ends of his sleeves.
Frowning as I rise to my feet, I shake my head. "The veins were much lighter at four, but the pale moonlight could have been playing tricks on my eyes." I explain, looking to Newt, who stares ahead at Vince, clenching his jaw.
"Please talk about me like I'm here." He tells the man, a flicker of frustration in his voice. "I feel like those bloody scientists are examining me when you talk like that."
I feel slight unease rise inside of my chest, and I gently reach for Newt's upper arm, grasping onto his right jacket sleeve and brushing my thumb along it comfortingly.
Vince stares at the boy's narrow eyes for a long while, searing into Newt's soul. He, just like myself, can sense the virus already making the boy irritable. "You need more of that Serum." He concludes in a straightforward tone, turning around and sliding open the top drawer of the desk, taking out one of the small blue vials he had placed inside when he and Jorge had laid Newt in this cabin. "Roll up your sleeve." He orders Newt, unscrewing the lid to reveal the small needle.
The fact that the vials are just like the ones that came up in the Cage with Aris makes me feel a little discomfort. A lack of trust.
My face falls slightly as I watch Newt roll up his right sleeve. "Vince, what time is it?"
"It's ten thirty." He mutters. "Why?"
I gulp. "This is the third dose of Bliss in a matter of ten hours..." I mumble, shifting my eyes to Newt, who watches the needle inch towards his forearm.
Vince, pausing before he can inject the Serum, lifts his blue eyes to me.
"We hardly have enough vials to last Newt two weeks, maybe three- four, if we're lucky- at this rate." I mutter.
The bearded man's eyes shift slightly, thinking for a moment before looking down at Newt's arm with a heavy sigh, slowly injecting the sharp needle into Newt's skin. "I guess we'll have to use it scarcely."
Newt, wincing for a moment, lifts his brown eyes to Vince. "How bad will I have to get before the next dosage?"
Slowly removing the empty, small syringe vial from Newt's arm, Vince creases his forehead. "That call is up to you, kid." He says simply.
Newt slowly averts his worried eyes to me, not letting them falter as he asks Vince, "What if I get violent? I don't normally notice that I'm lashing out until I've already done so." He subtly shifts his doe eyes to the bandaging on the left crook of my neck that is exposed beneath my maroon sweater. "I could hurt someone..."
Frowning, I cover my shoulder with my right hand, not wanting him to loathe himself for something he couldn't control.
"If you can make the call beforehand, do so, but, if you can't, I guarantee that you won't hurt anyone. We've got lots of people that can stop you." The man says reassuringly.
Sighing softly, Newt nods, breaking his concerned daze with my shoulder.
Pressing my lips tightly together, I return my hand to Newt's arm as he rolls his sleeve back down. "Don't worry..." I whisper faintly, stomach turning slightly.
Newt shifts his eyes to mine, opening his mouth to speak, but he's cut off by a sudden shout from outside.
"LAND HO!" A voice exclaims, causing all three of us to turn our heads towards the cabin door. Hoots and hollers begin to rise in the air, muffled by the door but slowly increasing in volume.
"Land ho?" Newt distorts his face in slight puzzlement. "But doesn't that mean...?" His voice trails off as he looks to me.
"The Safe Haven..." Vince whispers in somewhat disbelief, quickly turning on his heels and rushing out the door.
Giving Newt a look that rises with anticipation, the two of us follow after Vince, stumbling out onto the outer dock, blinded by the bright sun that dances and glimmers along the blue ocean waves, the sky above the horizon a bright, vibrant blue, white fluffy clouds resembling snow-white cotton sailing along the sky. The salty ocean air sweeps through my hair beneath my bandaging, running in cool waves through the yarn of my sweater and brushing along my skin so gently that it almost tickles.
Turning to the right, I squint as I peer down the stretch of dock, looking towards the front end of the ship where people begin to crowd around to get a good view of the island.
I turn back to Newt, watching him as he stares towards the front of the ship, his face displaying true longing and excitement to see the Safe Haven.
And to think that he could have never seen Paradise.
Smiling warmly, I slowly grasp his hand, breaking him out of his daze as I intertwine my fingers with his.
He shifts his brown eyes to our hands before lifting them to my eyes.
"Come on," I grin, turning on my heels and pulling him behind as I stride along the deck.
I feel my heart rate begin to incline with pure excitement, and, as we approach the front of the ship, I carefully squeeze into the large group of people huddling closer together, squeezing Newt's hand tightly so that he doesn't break away from me, just as he had done when we were making our way through the chaotic scene of Marcus's Crank party.
However, as we move towards the front, slipping our way through the crowd, Newt suddenly halts in his tracks, which nearly yanks me back by my arm in the process.
Drawing my brows together, I look back at Newt. "What? What's wrong?"
Newt stares ahead, his widening eyes locked onto something in the very front of the crowd. His mouth falls open slightly, unable to conjure up words.
Frowning in concern, I turn forward, leaning left to right in attempt to get a glimpse of whatever he is staring at.
In perfect timing, as if reading my mind, the people in front of me step apart just enough for me to get a glimpse of the group at the very front of the ship. Our group.
Minho stands on the railing just where the front of the ship meets to make a point at the very tip, and, with one hand grasping onto the top rail, he leans forward over the edge of the ship, shouting as he points towards the island that seems to subtly grow in size as we slowly approach it.
I can hear Harriet snap at the boy, grabbing the back of Minho's shirt as soon as he releases his grip on the bar and stands completely upright on the railing, swinging his arms as if waving to get the island's attention.
Brenda, laughing at the sight, reaches over to pat Frypan's back as he pulls her into a side hug, squeezing her tightly by her shoulders. I can hear his loud, wholehearted chuckles from here.
Latching onto Aris with a big hug, Sonya squeezes the boy tightly, shouting in joy as she jumps up and down in excitement.
Gally leans back against the railing, staring at the Safe Haven over his right shoulder.
"You're going to fall!" Harriet exclaims as Minho slaps her hand off the back of his light blue long-sleeved shirt.
"I never shucking fall because I'm too good for that." I can hear Minho retort in a snark tone, grasping onto the top railing and climbing over the bars, stepping onto the outer side of the railing and standing upright, facing the crowd on the ship and extending his arms outward victoriously. "See? Too good!" He smirks proudly, his brown eyes shifting slightly to get a look at the crowd. He glances at Newt for a moment before looking down at the group again and doing a double take, darting his eyes back to the blonde boy in the crowd, his face falling.
"What?" Fry asks as he witnesses his wild friend suddenly calm down. "What are you looking at?"
The others, watching Minho, morph their faces in confusion due to his sudden change of stature, and they trail their eyes along Minho's line of sight, each eventually spotting Newt, their expressions dropping in pure shock.
"N-Newt?!" Minho calls.
Speechless, Newt simply stares at his good friend in return with a dumbfounded look.
Minho, staring at Newt with a whirlwind of emotions, such as joy and shock and relief, slowly steps back over the safety rails of the ship, jumping onto the wooden deck of the boat and quickly striding through the crowd, squeezing past the cluster of thrilled individuals. He pushes past people impatiently, his eyes remaining on Newt the entire way, and, beginning to rush through the crowd as quickly as he can, Minho basically charges at his friend as soon as the crowd clears up enough to do so, wrapping Newt up in a massive hug.
Eyes wide as his brain takes a moment to register the situation, Newt shakily wraps his arms around his friend, hugging him tightly in return.
Minho squeezes his eyes shut as if he uses all of the strength he has to hold onto Newt, burying his face from his nose down into Newt's shoulder. "You're okay." He whispers in disbelief, muffled as the two slightly sway from side to side in the consoling embrace.
"Yeah..." Newt manages to laugh weakly as tears swell in his eyes. "Yeah, I am..."
Fry jogs to the three of us, slowing to a stop with his jaw to the floor, a grin pulling upward on the ends of his lips. The others follow quickly behind.
"Shuck, man..." Minho laughs as he pulls away, fighting back tears as he smiles at Newt. "For a minute there, I thought I had failed you." He admits. "I thought all of the progress over three years was gone, and that- and that shucking WICKED won..."
Newt, pressing his lips tightly together as a smile tugs on the left corner of his mouth, pats Minho's shoulder. "You didn't fail me, nor would you have if I weren't here." He says comfortingly before averting his big brown eyes to Frypan. Newt chokes out with a smile, "Fry," before giving the kindhearted boy a hug.
Frypan squeezes the blonde boy tightly, patting his back. He chuckles softly under his breath, happy to have his friend back and alive. "I can't believe you look the way you do after what we last saw." Fry smiles as he steps back, looking Newt up and down.
Newt, laughing lightly, nods. "Me neither."
Sonya is the next one to step up to the blonde boy. "Vince had told us what happened..." She mumbles with a somber expression before suddenly hugging him tightly. "We're glad you're better."
Taken aback, Newt slowly returns the embrace, a warm smile stretching across his face.
I don't know why, but seeing those two hugging triggers a minuscule itch in my brain. I wonder why?
As Newt pulls away, smiling at the blonde girl, Aris rests a comforting hand on Newt's shoulder from behind. He smiles warmly at Newt as the boy with renewed health turns to face him, and Aris is suddenly pulled into a tight embrace by Newt before he can get a single word out.
Harriet grins widely, stepping up to Newt as Aris pulls away. "Glad to have you back." She says, hugging him kindly.
"Glad to be back." Newt nods, chuckling as he steps back from Harriet.
Patting Newt's back, Brenda grins up at Newt as he turns around to face her, and she pulls him into a tight hug, not saying a word for a few moments. "You gave us all a scare last night." She manages to laugh weakly.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." The blonde boy chuckles, squeezing Brenda tightly.
Gally's the last one to wait for an exchange with Newt, and, as the blonde boy pulls away from Brenda, Gally clears his throat, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his grey hoodie. "I, uh... It's good to see that you're well." He tells Newt.
Staring at the buff boy with an unreadable expression, Newt draws his brows together slightly.
"We're all glad that the Bliss is helping, and I'm sorry we almost failed you." He pauses, as if expecting a response from Newt, but nothing comes. He sighs heavily, looking down at his feet as he continues, "If you still want to get that punch in like Thomas, I am one hundred percent okay with-"
Before Gally can even finish the sentence, Newt limps to the boy and wraps him up in a big hug.
Gally's eyes widen in complete shock, and he freezes in place, hands remaining in his pocket, unsure of what to do.
Snickering softly, I clear my throat to get Gally's attention, but, before I can gesture for him to hug Newt, Minho says in a sassy voice, "Don't just stand there, you dumb shank."
"Hey, be nice." I turn to Minho, nudging him in the arm. "He doesn't understand 'affection and stuff', remember?" I tease, averting my attention back to Gally with a warm smile.
For the first time, I see a small, genuine, wholehearted smile tug on the left corner of Gally's lips, and slowly, and a little awkwardly, Gally lifts his arms to Newt's back and returns the embrace.
Brenda, grinning widely at the sight, puts an arm over my shoulders, the other on her hip.
"Now, that is something I would have never thought to see again in my entire life." Fry chuckles.
"Oh, shut up..." Gally grumbles, almost bashful, as he steps away from Newt.
The entirety of the group cannot help but stare at the blonde boy in awe, though I see Minho's eyes trail to the veins in Newt's cheek. He stands a little taller, taking in a deep breath. "Well, we were getting the best shucking view of the island." He smirks, grabbing Newt's arm. "Come take a look." With that, Minho suddenly turns on his heels, yanking Newt behind him through the crowd, which then causes Newt to grip onto my arm by instinct, and I get pulled along the train of individuals, squeezing past the people huddled around the front tip of the ship.
"Sorry, sorry- Sorry," I whisper quickly to each person I accidentally bump into on the way, snickering softly under my breath as I'm basically dragged behind, the others quickly rushing after us.
Once Minho pulls Newt, who then pulls me, to the very front of the ship, Minho already begins climbing onto the rails, pointing to the island. "Look! It's the Safe Haven, shuck-faces!" He exclaims to the rest of our group over his shoulder.
Looking out into the glistening ocean, I slowly step up to the safety rails. I rest my hands along the slick bars, staring out over the blue sea. The white shores along the edge of the flourishing green island call for our ship as the waves pull us towards it, as if the world knows that we are destined to be in Paradise. Vast, rocky mountains rise up from the ground in the heart of the island, embodying power and magnificence.
Minho, letting go of the top rail, stands upright on the bars, extending his arms out. "This is our home now."
The word 'home' causes Newt and I to look at each other in perfect sync, and, slowly averting his eyes to my bandaged left hand, he gently takes it with his right, intertwining our fingers before lifting his eyes to mine, a warm smile stretching across his face.
Smiling in return, I step closer to Newt, resting my head on his shoulder as he gently kisses the top of my head before resting his atop of mine, staring at the island ahead.
I'm already home.
• • •
"Minho, Vince said to wait!" Harriet snaps as the cocky boy takes one of the ropes hanging over the side of the ship and disobediently slides down it, hopping onto the sandy shore with his boots far below within a matter of seconds.
With a sassy smirk, Minho looks up at us as we peer down at him from over the railings. "Forget the one small step for a man, I'm taking the shucking giant leap for mankind!" He exclaims, throwing victorious fists in the air.
I can't help but laugh at him. Oh, how I've missed Minho!
Harriet, with a lifted brow, looks to the rest of us. I can see her fighting the urge to laugh, doing her best to keep a straight, frustrated expression. "You guys seriously risked your lives to save this guy?"
Chuckling, Fry nods. "Yeah, that's about right."
"He can be a bloody pain in the neck, but he's our pain in the neck." Newt chimes in, grinning.
Vince, staring down at Minho with an exasperated look, averts his attention to the rest of our group, sighing. "You kids go." He says in a somewhat defeated manner, gesturing to the rope.
I give him a puzzled look. "But didn't you say to-"
"Just go." He says, shaking his head as he chuckles softly. "But don't think this excuses you kids from helping set up the camp." He adds.
Face lighting up, Brenda grasps onto the rope that Minho had slid down. "We won't!" She exclaims before climbing over the railing and sliding down the side of the ship.
Smiling widely, Sonya follows after, cheering on the way down to the sand.
"Sonya, wait up!" Harriet takes hold of the rope once Sonya releases it, and she jumps over the bars with ease and glides down after.
I look to Newt, whose veins have lightened up a bit in the matter of time the Bliss has kicked in, and he grins at me. "What are you waiting for?" He chuckles softly. "Get going. I'll be right behind you."
With a smile stretching across my face, I nod before carefully climbing over the safety rail, taking hold of the rope, and slipping down the side of the ship.
With a soft psh sound, my combat boots hit the sand within seconds, somewhat sinking into the pale, white grains. Releasing the rope and stepping away so that the other boys can follow, I look down at my feet, grinning even wider. Without a moment of hesitation, I plop down onto the sand, untying the lacing of my boots as quickly as possible and sliding off my shoes and socks. I stuff my white socks into the boots as I rise to my feet, feeling the warm, soft sand beneath my feet and between my toes.
Newt lands in the sand beside me, his face slowly dropping in awe as he looks out into the distance, examining the massive island, the flourishing trees swaying in the salty breeze.
Holding my boots with one hand and placing the other on my hip, I look back at Newt as Frypan hops into the sand, followed by Aris and Gally.
As Newt meets my eyes, a small smile tugs on the right corner of his lips. "We're here. We're all here." He says in awe as he grins even wider, but it quickly fades away as his eyes fill with sudden anxiety.
Drawing my brows together, I step closer to Newt. "What's wrong?"
He locks his brown eyes onto mine, the fear making the shade of his irises seem darker than normal. I can see the muscles tighten in his neck as he chokes out, "Where's Tommy?"
Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, I gently rest my left hand on Newt's right arm. "He's here." I say reassuringly. "He's just... He's still resting."
Newt's panicked stare does not waver. "I only remember bits and pieces from when the Flare consumed me, but...I remember pushing the end of my dagger into his chest..." He explains shakily. "I didn't...?" his voice trails off.
Knowing what Newt is thinking, I shake my head. "You didn't succeed in stabbing him, Newt." I mumble softly, brushing my hand up and down his arm comfortingly.
Newt, clenching his jaw, whispers, "Did I manage to injure him at all?"
I shake my head, smiling weakly in reassurance. "The virus tried, but it failed." I rest my right hand over the left crook of my neck. "This was the worst the Flare made you do... Alright?"
Shifting his eyes back and forth between both of mine for a few moments, reading me intently, Newt hesitantly nods, inhaling deeply through his nose, his chest puffing out slightly. "Alright." He takes my hand in his shaking, lightly veiny hand, squeezing it tightly as if it's a security blanket. "Then, what happened to him?"
Sighing softly as I smile weakly at Newt, I nod towards the rest of the shore. "Let's walk and talk." I say kindly.
Seeming to ease a little as he takes another deep breath, Newt nods, and he limps alongside me as I turn and begin walking along the sandy shore.
"Thomas had ran off to find Teresa once I had knocked you unconscious the first time." I explain, looking down at the pale sand beneath my feet, the water rising along the sand but slowing to a temporary halt just beside my feet before sinking back into the rest of the blue ocean. "In the process, he had gotten shot. I don't know when in the duration of time we were apart, and I don't know who did it, but it was definitely a bullet wound in his right abdomen."
Newt shifts his wide eyes to me.
I look up at him as we slowly walk along the beach. "Vince and the guys immediately patched him up on the Berg. They said he'll be okay; it's only a matter of time until he wakes." I tell him reassuringly.
Pursing his lips together tightly as he looks ahead in the direction we're walking, Newt nods slightly.
Sighing as I look back down at the sand, I walk alongside him in silence.
When I do, however, open my mouth to speak up, I'm cut off by a familiar voice shouting, "(y/n)!"
Darting my eyes ahead, I spot Sonya standing in between Harriet and Aris as she jumps up and down farther down the shore, waving her arms to get my attention. Aris jumps up and down, too, but Harriet simply waves a hand at me.
"(y/n), come here!" Sonya exclaims. "I found a really cool seashell!"
Laughing softly, I shift my eyes to Newt. "You care to join?"
Newt manages to chuckle weakly. "They're calling for you."
I tilt my head to the side. "Newt, that doesn't mean you can't join us."
"I've been with you for months; Sonya and Aris got a mere day with you before you ran off with Tommy, Fry, and I, and Harriet has not seen you the past few days." He smiles, nodding towards them. "Besides, the likelihood of-"
"Newt!" Another voice shouts from even further in the distance, causing the two of us to look at the source: Minho. He sprints along the sand towards us with insane speed, waving a stick in the air. "I found a jellyfish or something on the shore! We should poke it and see if it really stings!"
I lift a brow, looking to Newt.
"As I was gonna say, 'The likelihood of Minho wanting me to help him with a stupid idea is very high'." Newt says flatly, shaking his head as he averts his brown eyes to me. "I should keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get himself stung."
I can't help but laugh. "Alright. I'll see you in a few, then." I smile up at him.
Grinning at me widely, he quickly leans down to peck a kiss on my lips. "See you in a few." He nods before turning on his heels and swiftly limping towards Minho, who has already turned around and started running back in the direction he came from. "Don't poke the buggin' thing, Minho! You'll get stung!" I hear Newt groan as he rushes off, rubbing his temple in irritation with one hand, the other on his hip. "Bloody Glade, it's just like with the Grievers all over again..."
I giggle to myself, folding my arms and shaking my head as I watch the boys run off before turning and jogging to Harriet, Sonya, and Aris.
• • •
Standing in the small tent, the cream fabric swaying in gentle waves from the cool beach breeze, I examine myself in the little, broken mirror that sits atop of the small steel table that I had carried inside. I'm just relieved to have no more bandaging wrapped around my head and to be in clean clothes. I adjust my black long sleeved shirt around the collar to cover the bandaging on the left crook of my neck and then tug on the sleeves of my double layer bomber jacket, the inner layer a light, heathered grey with a hood, and the outer layer a light camo green. I brush off my russet brown pants and tighten the laces of my black combat boots before standing upright and sighing in content. However, my small smile fades, and, staring into the little mirror, I slowly lift the bottom right side of my shirt, just enough to look at a small patch of the large discolored scar on my side. Drawing my brows together in concentration, I stare at it intensely, searing into the faded mark and wracking my brain for any answers, any recollection. None come. I sigh heavily in frustration, shaking my head in disappointment.
"Is everything alright?" The sweet, thickly accented voice asks, causing me to jump with a start.
Quickly tugging my shirt back down, I turn back to look at Newt, who examines me with concern in his eyes from the entrance of the tent. He's changed into an olive green long sleeved shirt, though he has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and some dark grey cargo pants. His head, too, is free of bandaging. "Oh- Yeah," I laugh lightly, partially frazzled, "I'm alright."
He furrows his eyebrows together, limping inside. "What were you looking at?" He asks.
Frowning, I turn towards the small mirror again. "Just...nothing."
"(y/n)," Newt mumbles as he steps beside me, looking at me in the reflection of the mirror, the muscles in his neck tensing up as he clenches his jaw.
I tilt my head to the side slightly as I stare at his reflection. "What?"
"You're not," he pauses, struggling to get the words out, as if they would choke him, cutting off his airway, "hiding signs of infection... Are you?"
"What?" I manage to laugh lightly, turning to directly face Newt. "No, of course not. I would tell you."
He shifts his doe eyes back and forth between each of my own, doing his best to read me. "You promise?"
I nod. "Yes, Newt. I promise." I whisper reassuringly, taking both of his hands in mine.
The worry does not leave his deep stare. "Then what is it that you're hiding?"
I open my mouth to make further excuses, only to sigh heavily and let my head fall. "I don't even really know what it is..." I mumble.
Newt's head subtly tilts to the side, and he leans closer to me, tensing up a little more. "What do you mean?"
I take a deep breath as I look back up at him, frowning slightly. "Just... Don't tell anyone." I mumble before letting go of his hands as I take a step back, looking down at my right side as I hesitantly lift the bottom of my shirt about two inches above the lining of my pants, exposing the soft pink scarring.
Newt, shifting his eyes to my side, stares at it before lifting his chocolate eyes to mine. "Do you mind if I look closer?"
I shake my head, pressing my lips tightly together.
Newt gets down on one knee, gently raising his left hand to my side, brushing his thumb over the little bit of skin that's exposed.
"I've had it since I came up in the Maze... I have no idea where it came from." I explain in a weak voice, awkwardly raising my right hand to point at my right rib just below my armpit. "The scar goes all the way up here."
Newt doesn't say a word, closely examining the off-pigmentation of my skin.
"I just... It really bothers me that WICKED took away some story that drastically impacted me, you know?" I mumble, looking down at my feet as Newt stands and I adjust the bottom of my shirt. "I mean, whatever happened had to have been fairly terrible, given that it's left such a massive, ugly mark."
"Ugly? That word implies that beauty is involved, that mere appearance defines a person." Newt says, distorting his face in a manner that seems almost offended. "That mark is a part of you, (y/n). Scars are a part of all of us, whether their internal or external, whether or not we know where they bloody come from. Sure, their stories are 'ugly', and the reasons we have these unwanted and out-of-place imprints upon our flesh are likely horrific, but do you think that being stained and full of flaws makes one any less important?"
I lift my eyes to Newt, a little taken aback.
"I mean, do you think that this makes me any less of a person? Any less human?" He asks, holding his bare wrists out to me.
At that moment, looking at the subtle lines in his arms amidst the slightly darkened veins, I realize something: This is the first time in all of the months that I have known Newt in which he has his forearms completely exposed, not hidden under a jacket or a long sleeve shirt or wristbands or his bandanna.
I shake my head rapidly. "No, of course not."
"Well, neither do I think any less of you, (y/n)," he says, staring deeply, almost sternly, into my eyes, "so don't you dare say anything so absurd again. Being infected doesn't make you a monster, having a dark history doesn't make you a bad person, and scars do not make you any less human. Got it?"
I lick my lips as I swallow the rising lump in my throat, my eyes fighting to water as I stare up at the boy. "I love you." Is all I can manage to say.
While letting out a soft huff of a sigh, a small smile tugs on the right corner of his lips, and he gently brushes the hair behind my ear. "I love you, too." He murmurs before gently planting a tenderhearted kiss on my forehead.
I can't help but smile, closing my eyes as I soak up his loving gesture.
"Hey, lovebirds." A snarky voice says from the entrance of the tent, startling both myself and Newt, and we look to the opening of the tent where Minho smirks at us with folded arms, dressed in a light blue long sleeve shirt and beige pants. "You've both changed into clean clothes, so now it's back to work. We don't have time to shuck around. Besides, I need help with Thomas."
Newt's face somberly falls at the mentioning of our friend. "Tommy still hasn't woke up?"
Minho huffs a sigh through his nose, his broad chest sinking as he shakes his head. "Nope, not yet."
I press my lips together, feeling conflicted when I ask, "What about Teresa?"
Newt, furrowing his brows together, looks to me. "Teresa?"
Frowning slightly, Minho shakes his head. "Not awake either."
"Wait, you didn't mention that Teresa was here, too, when you were telling me that Thomas was safe." Newt mumbles.
I hesitantly lift my eyes to Newt.
However, before I can reply, Minho answers for me. "(y/n) dived off of the shucking Berg to save her from the top of the tower while it was collapsing." He says proudly.
"What?" He asks. "But...Why?"
Minho shifts his eyes to me as I ponder on it for a few moments before looking up at Newt again. "Because you told Thomas you would be crazy enough to go after me if I did what she did." I whisper, standing slightly taller. "And...after learning what it felt like to lose you," I struggle to mutter out, taking a deep, stuttered breath as I recollect the agonizing pain in my heart, "I didn't want Thomas to experience that... I didn't want him to feel the unbearable pain of such a loss."
Newt, pursing his lips together, stares into my eyes for a few moments before nodding understandingly, not saying a word.
Minho clears his throat to regain our attention. "Anyways, I need help with Thomas."
Newt, clenching his jaw slightly, nods. "Alright, but in what manner?"
"Vince has him lying down in the medical hut." He nods to his right before turning on his heels and walking out of the tent.
Newt and I glance at each other before following Minho out into the sunlight of the afternoon.
"We got a table and chairs set up in the shelter, and Brenda and Fry had carried crates of medications and such into the hut. Our job is to tidy it up before the shank wakes." Minho explains as we make our way along the sand, people eating and chatting and hard at work as they set up the camp. "However, Vince also needs us to check him for anything that may be important to Thomas before he gets changed into a new shirt and pants." He scoffs lightly, giving us a funny look over his shoulder. "And guess who gets to do the shucking honor of seeing that ugly shank in his undies?"
My eyes widen slightly, and I clasp my hand over my mouth as soon as I start to laugh, looking over at Newt, who's face drops. "You're bloody kidding."
Minho, chuckling, shakes his head, turning to face forward as he leads us along the beach. "Nope. Vince said, and I quote, 'You and Newt are his closest friends, so you shouldn't mind doing that for me, right kid?'"
I am unable to fight the laughter swelling up inside me, struggling to muffle it into my hands.
Shaking his head, Newt mutters, "Great."
"Oh, come on." Minho says, smirking back at Newt. "It's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before."
Immediately reminded of the prank Minho had pulled on Newt in their Maze, I'm no longer able to control myself, and I burst into a loud fit of laughter.
Balling his fists, Newt mutters through clenched teeth, "You shucking..." he doesn't even finish before charging after Minho, who immediately sprints ahead, laughing out loud.
Giggling uncontrollably, I pick up the pace, shouting, "Hey! Wait up!" as I run after the boys.
We pass Frypan and Brenda on the way as they carry a long board of wood, watching us run past. I hear Fry chuckle, "Things have definitely returned to normal."
"You can say that again." Brenda laughs softly.
Aris, Sonya, and Harriet sit around a small fire in the direction we're heading, laughing and chatting as they eat their lunch.
Minho, sprinting as fast as he can, charges towards the flames with upmost speed, and, just before he reaches the fire, he leaps as high as he can, jumping over the flames. As soon as he lands, he zooms off in a blur, his sprinting sending a puff of sand into the air. The dirt lands on their fire, putting it out.
"UGH, MINHO!" Harriet snaps, rising to her feet and throwing her free hand in the air, watching him as he runs off.
Newt, running as fast as he can in a hobbled manner, carefully charges around the trio, avoiding their little spot altogether. "Sorry!" He apologizes for Minho just as he passes before darting down the shore.
Laughing, I safely run around the group, too, and charge after Newt and Minho.
The sand beneath our feet eventually morphs to grass as we sprint towards the farther end of the campground.
I see Minho charging towards a wooden shelter ahead of us, where Gally is hammering some wooden planks together as he works to make furniture of some sort just in front of the hut.
Lifting his head towards us, Gally's face falls. "No, no, no..." He mumbles as his eyes widen, rising to his feet and blocking his project. "No, no, no!"
I don't have to see it in order to know that Minho is smirking, and I see the boy run even faster in Gally's direction.
"NO, NO, STOP!" Gally basically shrieks. "YOU'RE GOING TO SHUCKING BREAK-"
Before he can even finish, Minho shoves Gally to the side and jumps over the incomplete furniture, safely landing on the other side without touching the project whatsoever. "'Nobody's perfect'? Think again, shuck-face!" Minho exclaims as he sprints off and charges into the shelter, shoving the fabric that acts as a door out of the way on his way inside.
Newt apologizes for Minho as he runs past dumbfounded Gally, and I wave at the buff gaping boy as I rush past.
I stumble through the doorway just after Newt, laughing as I struggle to catch my breath, leaning forward with my hands on my knees; however, I manage to calm down as my eyes trail to Thomas, who lies in his small cot in the back right corner of the wooden shelter, unconscious and wrapped up in a new set of bandaging, and I slowly stand upright, panting softly.
"Alright," Minho says, pointing to the crates on the opposite side of the tent, "so these boxes right here have the medical stuff from the last camp ground, so let's get them unpacked, and then we'll check Thomas for anything important."
Exchanging a glance with Newt, I nod.
Minho smiles slightly. "Then, let's get to work."
• • •
I carefully check the pockets at Thomas's calves on his WICKED uniform pants. "The left calf pocket is empty." I mumble to the other two as I shift my hands to Thomas's right leg, undoing the velcro and reaching into his pocket. I feel a small object brush against my fingers, and, furrowing my brows together, I mutter, "He has something in here..." before I pull out a small, wooden carving, about the size of my palm. It's mainly stained a deep shade of reddish brown, the deeper crevices of the carving, however, a pale yellowish color from where the staining did not get on the wood in the crevices. I hold up the object in my right hand, examining it closely. "What's this?" As I shift my eyes to Newt and Minho, I see them both staring at the object with unreadable expressions.
"That was Chuck's..." Newt mumbles somberly, shifting his sad eyes to me.
I feel a deep ache pierce my heart. "The boy that saved Thomas?"
He nods.
"He originally made it for his parents," Minho adds, "but, given that he wasn't going to make it, he gave it to Thomas. The wood wasn't red until then."
The breath hitches in my throat. "His...blood stained it red?"
They both nod, frowning.
I shift my eyes back to the carving, feeling my throat begin to burn with the urge to cry. The blood of a little boy that only wanted to know his family was shed for another boy he looked up to like a brother.
"Tommy never let it go." Newt whispers, nearly inaudible.
Pursing my lips together as I blink back the rising tears, I hold the carving tightly in my fist, nodding to the boys. "Then I'll make sure he has it with him. Safe." I tell them, turning and walking to the small table at the foot of Thomas's cot. Opening my hand to examine the tiny carving once more, I gently set it down upright on the center of the table, having it face Thomas as if it is waiting for him to wake up.
Suddenly, Brenda pushes the fabric to the side at the doorway and peeks into the shelter. "Hey, guys!" She says, causing the three of us to jump with a start. Chuckling softly, she folds her arms. "Sorry for scaring you guys. I just need to borrow (y/n)."
I lift a brow. "Oh? Okay."
She nods. "I need help setting up for a bonfire tonight. Vince is calling for a celebration, given that it'll be our first night in Paradise." She explains.
Nodding, I turn to say goodbye to the others before following Brenda out; however, just as I leave the wooden shelter, I glance over my shoulder to see Minho pull out a little necklace from one of Thomas's pockets, and he looks to Newt. "What's this?"
I'm out of earshot before Newt can respond.
Brenda leads me up the shore, towards the greenery up the hill.
The two of us hike a little ways into the forest, treading through the leaves and vines. Not a single word is spoken by either of us as we travel uphill.
We eventually stop once we are fully engulfed by the trees of the jungle, and we begin to collect wood from the surrounding trees, picking up fallen branches from the ground or breaking them off of the trees themselves.
"You know," Brenda begins, hopping up and grasping onto a branch above her head, dangling from it, "Vince didn't order me to have you help." She explains, pulling herself up slightly before swinging her legs with such force that the branch snaps and she lands on the ground with ease, grunting softly.
Furrowing my brows together, I look to the girl questioningly without needing to verbally ask her what she means as I pick up some bark branches from the ground, gathering them into my arms.
"I just wanted to be able to talk to you alone." If it were not for the fact that she smiles at me, my stomach would have anxiously tied to knots.
"Why?" I ask curiously, reaching above my head and snapping off a thin branch with one hand.
"Because," she says, dropping her branch to the ground before jumping up to dangle from another, "I wanted to thank you."
I carefully walk towards her and take the branch she had set down into my arms. "Thank me?"
"Yeah," she grins before bending her legs up and suddenly jerking them outward, breaking the branch with her force, safely landing with her knees bent, "you saved Thomas from a lot of pain. Physical and emotional." She stands upright and hands me the branch.
Taking it, I tilt my head to the side in puzzlement.
She laughs lightly in response to my confusion, picking up wood that had already fallen to the ground. "While Aris, Sonya, and Harriet were talking to you this morning, shortly after we landed here, Newt had told me what you did."
Drawing my brows together, I listen intently, cautiously adjusting my hold on the collection of wood.
"He told me that you stopped him from stabbing Thomas, and that you had kept him from killing himself." She explains as she yanks down another branch. "Knowing how much Thomas cares about each and every one of his friends, I guarantee that not being able to prevent Newt from taking his life would have been the closest thing to death for him."
I manage to scoff slightly, nodding as I look down at the pile of wood in my arms. "Yeah, I could imagine..."
Brenda, seeming slightly confused by the comment, stares at me for a moment. Shaking off her puzzlement, she strides to me and gently rests a hand on my good shoulder, smiling warmly. "You saved more than just Newt. Trust me."
I smile weakly in return. "Thanks, Brenda..." I mutter quietly.
"No," she says softly, "thank you."
• • •
After about an hour of travelling back and forth between the beach and the trees, Brenda and I make our way to the shore one last time, carrying long strips of wood in our arms and doing our best not to trip as we travel down the declining slope.
"I had a brother." Brenda explains with a weak smile. "His name was George. I have a locket of him that I can show you once we've finished up here."
I grin at her as I nod. "I'd love to see a picture of him." Carefully walking beside her, I avert my eyes to Brenda as she carries her collection of wood, splinters of the material sticking into her white long-sleeved shirt that she has tucked into her pants. "I'm sure he was a great, just like his sister."
She manages to laugh weakly. "Thanks." She mumbles.
"Don't mention it." I smile in return, looking down at the ground as I cautiously step through the greenery. I hesitate for a few moments before adding, "I wonder if I had any siblings?"
Brenda curiously shifts her big, brown eyes to me.
"In fact, I wonder who of us Gladers had siblings in our homes before the Maze?" I mumble, lifting a brow.
Pondering on it for a few seconds, Brenda replies with, "Well, even though you don't remember if you had a brother, I can guarantee that you, at least, have one sister."
Furrowing my brows together, I return Brenda's stare with an expression of utter confusion.
She laughs softly under her breath. "You've got me, and I definitely consider you to be my sibling."
I feel upmost joy bubble up inside me, and a wide grin stretches across my face.
Brenda returns the smile.
Taking a deep breath as we step out of the trees and into the open, the two of us finally realize that the camp seems to be much nearer to completion. It's insane what a small community can do in a matter of hours when they work together.
"Woah," I say in awe, gaping slightly, "I didn't even realize how far along they were with the camp."
"Neither did I." Brenda says, shifting her brown eyes to me as we both laugh at the thought, treading through the soft sand and down the shore.
We carry the wood to the pile we've set up in front of a seating area that everyone has set up with a careful arrangement of logs and large, cream tarp fabric stretching over the area to provide shade from the sun, the fabric swaying with the waves of the breeze.
Grunting, I carefully toss the wood onto the pile before dusting off my hands with a proud sigh as Brenda does the same.
"Now, that's what I call girl power." Brenda smirks, lifting her hand to give me a high five.
Giggling softly, I accept the gesture, proudly slapping my right hand against hers.
However, in the split second that our hands meet, Brenda's eyes flicker to something behind me, and her face falls, jaw dropping.
Creasing my brows together in confusion, I turn to look over my shoulder, squinting as I scan the long stretch of shore. Suddenly, my eyes fall on a figure slowly stepping out of the little wooden shelter towards the far end of the camp in the distance, dressed in a dark blue shirt and jeans, walking out towards the ocean, staring out into the waves in shock.
I immediately dart my eyes to Brenda. "That's...?"
She averts her eyes to me, nodding rapidly before taking a deep breath and suddenly running along the sand.
Without a moment of hesitation, I sprint after Brenda, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and joy rise up inside of me.
As we make our way along the sand, I can see Fry, who hands Gally a tin cup of water while the two of them work on locking a tent's peg into place for a sturdy foundation, shift his eyes to Brenda and I in puzzlement before peering in the direction we're headed. His face falls, which causes Gally to follow his stare. Once Gally spots the figure in the distance, he exchanges an anxious look with Fry before the two of them rise to their feet and quickly follow behind Brenda and I.
As Thomas slowly makes his way along the path in the grass in the distance, I see Newt and Minho sitting on a rock towards the edge of the sand where it shifts to the grass, chatting quietly to one another. However, they catch the boy making his way down the path in their peripherals, and they lift their heads to the boy before exchanging a dumbfounded glance.
As Brenda, Fry, Gally, and I approach Newt and Minho, we slow to a stop in our tracks, gaping at the boy before us.
Thomas, staring at the group of us with an expression that displays such a whirlwind of emotions that it's impossible to describe it in a few words, slowly steps off of the path and onto the sand, pursing his lips tightly together as he blinks back tears.
Minho and Newt stare at their best friend, speechless and seeming frozen in place for a few moments; however, the two boys stride to Thomas, and Thomas quickly walks to them, the three of them crashing into a massive group hug, clinging to each other tightly. I can see Thomas's face over his friends' shoulders, his eyes squeezed shut as he holds onto his best friends for dear life.
Feeling a little choked up as my vision blurs with tears, I sniffle, managing to smile weakly at the sight.
The trio, whose bond is unbreakable, is finally reunited and safe.
Fry, sniffling softly, pats my back comfortingly and grins at the sight, too.
Looking back over my shoulder, I see Jorge, Aris, Harriet, and Sonya slowly walking towards our group, staring at Thomas in awe.
Shifting my eyes back to the trio, I catch a glimpse of Vince in the background, watching Thomas with his hands on his hips as other people walk past him or are busy with laboring work.
The three boys finally pull apart, and Thomas darts his eyes back and forth between Newt and Minho, keeping each hand on their shoulders. "You're here... You're both here." He chokes out in disbelief, eyes glossy with tears.
Minho and Newt manage to laugh weakly, their eyes swelling with tears of joy, too.
"Yeah... Yeah, we are." Minho says, smiling widely.
Newt, sniffling, nods rapidly. "We're all fairly alive and well."
Managing to laugh amidst the tears, Thomas smiles at his two friends before giving them each of hug of their own, squeezing them tightly.
Chuckling, Fry pats my back before striding to Thomas, wrapping the brunette up in a bear hug just as Thomas pulls away from Minho.
"It's good to see that you're alive." Frypan says kindly, patting Thomas's back as they tighten their friendly embrace.
"I'm surprised that I am." Thomas admits with a light, somewhat disbelieving laugh.
As he steps back from Fry, Thomas's soft eyes fall upon Brenda as she slowly walks towards him, her hands clasped together behind her back.
With a warm, kindhearted smile, Thomas let's out a deep breath as he steps towards Brenda and wraps her up in a strong, comforting embrace.
I can tell that Brenda is holding onto the boy for dear life, burying her face in his shoulder to hide the fact that she is fighting back tears.
Releasing Brenda, Thomas's brown eyes trail to me, and his face falls. "(y/n)...?"
A weak smile tugs on my lips as I brush away the rising tears from my eyes. "Thomas." I nod.
With his eyes locked on me, the brunette boy quickly strides towards me. As soon as he is in arm's reach of me, Thomas wraps me up in a tight hug around my waist and lifts me off of the ground. "You're alive... I can't believe you're alive!"
I laugh pathetically as I break a sob, squeezing him tightly as the tears finally roll from my eyes. "I can say the same about you..." I sniffle, muffled in his shoulder.
He squeezes me even tighter, burying his face in my right shoulder as he sets me back down on the ground. "You saved Newt... You saved him and managed to get yourself and the others out in time to save me..." He whispers quickly, choked up. "Thank you, (y/n). Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
• • •
"I'm going to burn down this shelter- no, this entire campground- if you don't supervise me." I confess to Fry as I carefully add wood to the little fire he uses to boil his water for the potatoes.
He lets out a burly chuckle, shaking his head. "You seem to be a fine cook to me, (y/n)."
I giggle softly, helping him drop the potatoes into the boiling water in the pot. "Thanks."
He nods, grinning. "Are you sure you weren't the cook of your Maze?"
Laughing, I nod. "I'm positive. When I had to make my own meals in my beginning days in the Maze, it would typically result in food that's nearly inedible."
"Oh, man," he chuckles as he turns to cut the bread he has resting on a little wooden table that Gally had built to keep the food from getting any sand on it while being prepared. "Well, it's not like I was a born cook," he says, "it took lots of trial and error. Of course, the guys that were around since those days really hated meal time when I had first started out as the cook."
Giggling softly to myself as I check on the corn boiling in a pot over another small fire, I ask, "Then, what about your name?"
Fry looks over his shoulder to me. "Oh, Frypan's not really my name." He laughs.
I lift my brows. "Woah, wait. Okay, I knew that wasn't your name, but I didn't think you knew your actual name." I explain. "I just assumed WICKED never allowed you to remember yours, and so you just gave yourself one with the profession you found yourself in."
He chortles, shaking his head as he stops in the middle of preparing the bread to face me. "Nope. I remembered my name the day I came up." He smiles widely, dusting his hands off on the apron Vince had given him.
I stare at him with a curious expression, wanting to know what it is.
Frypan, obviously sensing that, chuckles. "I'll tell you as long as you promise to not tell anyone. Only the original Gladers know what it is, and I made them swear to keep it to themselves."
I nod rapidly. "I'll keep it a secret, I promise."
Grinning widely with a sparkle in his eyes, Fry stands taller. "The name's Siggy." He says, holding out his hand to me. "And you are?"
Giggling, I take his hand and shake it. "(y/n)." I reply.
"Nice to meet you, (y/n)." He says kindly, as if we've never met before.
"It's nice to meet you, too," I pause, almost calling him 'Fry', but catching myself, "Siggy."
He somehow manages to grin even wider, chuckling to himself in response.
I can't help but laugh. "Siggy is a nice name, but Frypan definitely fits you better." I conclude as I fold my arms.
He laughs, nodding. "That's exactly what I thought!" He exclaims as he returns to slicing the bread. As he prepares the food, he lifts his eyes to look out of the small opening of the shelter that acts as a small window. "Newt's out there by the ocean alone."
Drawing my brows together, I look to Frypan questioningly.
He returns the glance. "You should go see him. I can finish up in here."
"Are you sure?" I ask. "Because I don't want to leave you alone and-"
"I've always worked on meals by myself in the Glade. Besides, Vince is probably going to send some kids in here to help, anyways." He says reassuringly, nodding towards the doorway. "Now get going."
With a small grin stretching across my face, I nod. "Thanks, Fry." I say before turning on my heels and striding out of the little wooden hut, rolling down the sleeves of my black shirt.
Stepping out onto the open shore, I look out into the horizon, the sun setting along the ocean in the distance, sinking towards the dark waves and illuminating the sky in beautiful, breathtaking shades of vibrant pinks and oranges, the clouds a dark purple. I trail my eyes to the shoreline to see Newt sitting at the edge of the water, his legs crisscrossed and hands folded on his lap, his back towards the camp. His shoulder's slowly rise and fall as he breathes calmly, and I feel a warm sensation spread from my heart in content to see Newt truly at peace.
Scanning the remainder of the beach, I see Gally still hard at work to my right, building a bench and holding his hand out to Brenda as she hands him another nail, not fully paying attention to the boy whilst she has her face basically buried into a book that she reads in her other hand.
Minho is farther down the stretch of sand with Jorge as the two of them get the fire started for the celebration that should begin sometime soon. The masculine boy takes a large branch and pokes it into the flames, only to pull it out and admire the fire that has ignited at the end of his stick.
To my left, Aris braids Sonya's hair, the two of them chatting to five of the hostages that we had saved from WICKED yesterday, the five kids sitting in the sand and listening intently to Sonya and Aris's stories. The brunette kid that had protected the Serum, along with two of his friends, make their way towards the medical hut, where Vince had taken Thomas to give him some pain killers.
I stuff my hands into my pockets, the cold beach air brushing through my hair as I stride down the sand in Newt's direction. "Hey." I whisper as I approach him.
Breaking out of his daze on the sunset, Newt looks up at me. "Hi..." He whispers.
My face immediately falls. The veins in his face are getting predominant again, and the whites of his eyes are turning red. Shifting my stare to his arms, I see that the veins have darkened so much more, a deep shade of purple like the clouds in the sky. "Newt..." I whisper, gulping, "y-you're-"
"I'm fine..." He mumbles reassuringly, returning his attention to the ocean.
I sit beside him along the edge of the shore, the waves rhythmically rising and falling upon the sand, creating a gentle sway. "Newt," I frown, examining his bare forearms, the darkening veins beginning to bulge, "you're getting worse again..." Shifting my eyes to his face, I see the dark veins that are branching across his cheeks more clearly.
"Yeah, she's right, Newt." Someone mumbles, causing me to glance back over my shoulder at the source.
Minho slowly walks along the sand towards us, and he sits down on the other side of the blonde boy. "You need more of the Bliss."
"We only have so much of that. Vince said I have to take it in rations, only when I'm getting really bad..." Newt mutters.
"When was your last dosage?" Minho asks.
I frown as I mutter, "At ten this morning..."
Minho draws his brows together. "And you've already gotten this much worse? It's only been about seven hours?"
"Guess my body is too weak to put up much of a shucking fight..." Newt scoffs slightly.
I swallow the growing lump in my throat, shifting my anxious eyes to Minho.
He's getting irritable.
"What's this about putting up a fight?" Another familiar voice asks.
Jumping slightly with a start, I turn to look in the direction of the voice, only to see Thomas striding towards us with Vince following behind, a worried look on their faces.
"The Flare keeps fighting the Serum we give him." I explain, biting my lip as I feel it begin to quiver. "He's only well for so many hours with a single dosage in his system, and, at this rate, we'll be out of his supply of Bliss before the month is up."
Newt, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin atop of them, mutters, "No need to talk about me like I'm not sitting right here."
Staring at his ill friend, Thomas's face falls over the state of Newt.
Vince sighs. "Unfortunately, this is how it's going to have to be. You don't want him to use it all up now because, once we're out of the Bliss, we're out."
My heart stops at the thought. Once we run out, Newt will have no other option but to turn into a full-term Crank.
As if reading my mind, Newt shifts his brown eyes to me. "I'll be fine... I'll hold off on the Serum as long as I have to."
Thomas, with widening eyes, suddenly gasps.
As the rest of us immediately dart our eyes to Thomas, Minho, with his brows furrowed together, asks, "What? What is it?"
Quickly reaching into his pockets, Thomas fumbles about for a few moments before taking out a tiny, glass vial of blue liquid.
The encasement in his hand is much smaller than those we stole from the supply at WICKED headquarters.
"What's that? More Serum?" I ask in confusion.
Thomas, breathing rapidly through parted lips, holds up the vial, shaking his head. "No," he says, "it's the Cure."
Eyes widening, I exchanged a shocked look with Minho before I scramble to my feet. "Wait, you mean to tell me that, in the midst of time you were away from us, you were able to get the enzymes extracted from your blood?"
Licking his lips as he attempts to steady his breathing, Thomas nods as he fidgets with the small glass container. "Janson." He says. "He was infected, and he had my blood extracted for himself."
My jaw drops. "He's the one that shot you."
Thomas nods, averting his eyes to Newt and Minho as they rise to their feet before shifting them back to me. "Here." He says, holding the vial our to me. "Take it."
Heart beginning to pound against my chest, I slowly take the vial from Thomas's hand, examining it between my pointer finger and thumb. As I look at the tiny vial closely, my face drops as my heart stops. "Wait... Wait, this is much different than the other vials."
"What?" Minho asks in concern, stepping closer. "What do you mean?"
Looking over my shoulder at the boy, I worriedly explain, "This is completely enclosed." I unscrew the lid, showing him the open vial. "It's not like the larger ones. It doesn't have a built in syringe." I feel my breathing begin to anxiously pick up, heart thrusting against my ribcage with each intense beat, which causes Newt to slowly grasp my arm in an act of comfort, even though his eyes show his concern, too. "How are we supposed to get this into his system? We organized the medical supplies hours ago, and there wasn't a single vial, needle, or syringe of any sort in there."
"Actually," Vince finally speaks up, gaining our attention with his hands on his hips, "we have all of that stuff. It's just with my own supplies."
Drawing my brows together, I ask, "What?"
Sighing softly with his lips pressed together, Vince eyes the small glass in my hand. "I kept Mary's stuff."
Merely hearing Vince utter her name sends a pang of pain to my heart.
He shifts his eyes to mine, smiling weakly. "I salvaged all of it just after WICKED attacked months back."
Forcing a small smile in return, I nod somberly before looking down at the vial in my hand. The uneasy sense does not leave, nor does it partially fade. "There's one other problem, though..."
Thomas, frowning, asks, "And what is that?"
Lifting my eye to his, I mumble weakly, "What if this isn't enough to Cure him? What if we need a sizable amount? Or, worse, what if we somehow shuck up and it doesn't properly enter his bloodstream? We don't have anyone who can make more."
"I can." A soft voice suddenly speaks up, causing the huddle of the five of us to turn in the direction of the voice: standing a few yards behind Thomas and Vince, dressed in dull green pants and a tan long-sleeved shirt, her dark, full hair pulled back into a ponytail, is Teresa.