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HE WAS PROBABLY GONNA REGRET asking that of Minho later, if he even survives. however that window of hope shrinks more and more the longer he runs out here.
the griever behind him is persistent, and it's taking everything in him not to collapse.
Eventually, however, he came across a dead end. he sighed. really?
he turned and faced the griever, his pulse spiking and fear cycling through his body. he trembled.
now, he wanted to pretend he did some heroic dodging method that got him out of there, but when he went to do that, the griever protruded a limb and swiped a blade across his stomach.
he cried out, pain dulling his senses, spiking across his abdomen. he yelped, and fell to the ground. blood poured out of it, but then the pain dulled to a slow throb, as the griever began stalking towards him. just like a cat who caught a mouse.
he pushed himself up, and groaned as the pain spiked again, running out of the corridor, dodging it, taking lefts and right's, circling it, to lose its track.
eventually, it fell far enough behind where he could slow down, especially as his vision began to blur.
the rising sun overhead, began to heat up the concrete again, blushing the sky in reds and blues. he gasped as he fell towards the wall, placing his back against it. wheezing breaths escaping him.
the world above him began to spin, and he felt a tear slowly slide down his cheek.
maybe this was a stupid idea, running out, what if it didn't even work? Minho and Thomas could be dead right now, and all he did was delay the inevitable.
he did it, maybe because he still felt partway guilty for nicks death. that heavyweight sadness he still bore onto his shoulders. but the longer he sat there, the more free he became.
he did it, partly because he knew his life was far more dispensable than that of Minho or Thomas's. He knew that it would be better for him to die if it saved them, knowing no one could get them out of the maze faster than thomas, not even newt, or even alby.
he smiled, knowing he did at least a little good in his short life.
the last thing he saw, was the sun overhead, as his vision blurred and tumbled into darkness.
when he opened his eyes, it was not the ivy covered wall in front of him, it was a dimly lit hallway, back in that stupid hospital.
"you are not as worthless as you say you are." a man said in front of him, with a greying beard and a pointed nose.
this was another dream, maybe a memory, but at least he knew he wasn't dead yet.
"you know, that when all of this is over, and said and done, he will be by your side. no matter the situation." he said, and it took Atlas a minute to realize he must've been talking about Newt.
"you kids are smarter, smarter than you know. you'll realize it eventually. it'll come to you in your greatest time of need." he said, and Atlas felt his dream self nod.
"always remember that, even when you lose your memory up there."
the second time he opened his eyes, he was back in the maze, his arm felt sticky, and the wound on his stomach was still slightly bleeding. it seemed to be late morning, and he knew, that he had to pick himself up and get the hell out of there.
he took turns and twists he knew from the bottom of his heart, and he knew the minute he stepped into the main corridor.
never in his life would he think he would've been this excited to see the Glade. he watched as teenagers milled about, the sun shining on green grass, and he let out a surprised chuckle.
his vision blurred suddenly, and he clung to the wall for support. he dragged himself the last few inches, and he heard a distant yell.
people rushed towards him, holding him up, laying him down, gripping his shoulder, lifting his shirt. his vision suddenly became spotty, and the world above him blurred into a hazy watercolor sky.
