When I woke up my first thought was

How the shuck am I still alive?!?!

A giant rock landed on me!

Then I opened my eyes and saw a blonde head. Newt must have landed on me when I tackled him to avoid getting crushed. Why wasn't Newt moving? He was just laying on me. That was weird. At first, I thought he was still passed out, or had just woken up, but then I thought of something awful. He could be dead. My heart jumped as I crawled out.!

“ Newt! Come on, you shank! Wake up! “

Newt grunted and tried to squirm away, but his eyes remained closed.

“ That’s It, Newt! Come on, wake up! ”

Newt’s eyes opened, and he moaned

“ Minho, what's going on? My head hurts.”

“ There was a rockslide. We got separated from the others.”

“ Where are they?”

“ I-I don’t know. I passed out too, by now they could be a couple miles away from the WICKED base.”

Remembering that I immediately stood up, only to stumble, grab on to a wall, and slide to the floor again. Newt, who must have recovered from the dizziness faster than me, or was shuck hiding it really well, ran over to me and knelt down.

“ Hey, easy Min, we won't do anyone any good if you pass out again. Let's try to take it slow.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Min.

Newt only ever called me that when he was scared. Even though it was dark, I was close enough to see worry and concern etched on Newt's face.

“ Okay, okay. “

I was feeling helpless and defeated. It was like I was a greenie again. This time I stood up again, but more slowly. I could walk, but only by holding on to a wall, and after a couple hours I fully recovered. I couldn't tell if Newt was feeling alright. If he was hurt, he wasn't showing it, and I knew if I asked he would get defensive.

“ Hey, look! “

I looked up. Newt was standing in a room. A room.

“ What the shuck is that doing there? ”

“ I don't know Minho, I don't know.”

Newt had a puzzled look on his face, but I didn't want to waste time thinking.

“ Well, do you want to explore it or not?”

Newts puzzled look turned into excitement.

Phew.

I knew that when Newt starts thinking, he doesn't stop.

He spirals.

A lot.

That was Newt’s reaction to getting stung. He started thinking, making theories, and didn’t stop. The theories got more and more elaborate, and he got more and more panicked, until he couldn't stop adding to the theories.

Then one day Newt just stopped.

The med-jacks were puzzled. The day before Newt had been screaming his theories, just kept adding to them, he was screaming all day all night for almost a week. Then on the 7th day everything stopped. No noise, no screaming, nothing. The med-jacks were worried that if they approached Newt, it could start up again, so they got me. They told me to go in, make sure he is okay, don’t tell him anything that could excite him, so that’s what I did. I went in, checked on him, made sure he was alright, didn’t say anything to excite him, but what I saw might have been worse than the screaming. Newt was lying on the cot, curled tight into a ball crying silently. Newt, Newt of all people! He was for sure the toughest out of all of us, but the grief serum did this. I never want to see him like that again.

“ Come on ya shank! Are we looking in the room, or what?”

“ Oh! Oh yeah, we are. Let's go!”