Minho’s POV:

Why had they taken Newt away?

I can’t remember. . . something about me needing time to heal?

My brain wasn’t working.

There was too much pain.

I don’t know how to describe it.

Think of pain like an ocean, then think of yourself jumping in. You know that one moment when you first hit the water, and it just covers you in ice cold water? Pretend it was engulfing you in sharp pain instead, then replay that one moment over and over. That's what it felt like. I was never fully conscious. There was always some part of me still passed out. Even when I was awake, I could barely, if at all, move. I think I was screaming. I didn't actually know. I heard someone screaming. Whoever was screaming was hurting my head. And my throat.

So it probably was me.

I couldn’t stop though. The pain was just too much. There were some moments of relief where my body shut down, and allowed me to pass out. There was no pain there, but there were thoughts. Were they thoughts? I didn’t know if they were memories, thoughts, or nightmares. They were always bad though. They all had Newt in them. Oh, I wanted Newt to be here so much. I wanted him to be with me more than anything in the world. I wanted him to comfort me, for him to tell me I’d be okay, even if it was a lie. Maybe they’d let me see him. . .

Newt’s POV:

I didn’t eat that night. I didn’t leave the med-jack hut. Now that I knew Minho Was alive, I wasn't leaving. They could tell me not to go in his room all they want, but that wouldn’t stop me from staying inside the building, waiting. I heard the screams. They were on and off now. One minute Minho would be screaming his head off, only to be abruptly cut off, then start screaming again. I’d never felt worse. Having Minho in the next room, having him be in unimaginable pain, and not being able to help him. Not even being able to comfort him. At some point I accepted the fact that I couldn’t help, but I don’t know if that was better or worse than hoping I could help. I just sat down in the hallway outside of Minho’s door, and rested my head against the splintering walls of the homestead. I fell asleep there. So used to the screaming, I could just fall asleep. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Probably bad. I knew they wouldn’t let me in again. I set Minho off. I would have to wait. And wait. And wait.

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Minho’s POV:

I don’t know how long it has been. When I was awake, I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the sharp pain that was inside every cell of my body. There really is no way for me to tell time. They don’t give me meals, they don’t talk of what day it is, and the only window is above the headboard, so I can’t see it. Remember how I said I saw stuff in my dreams? Well, before I couldn’t tell what they were.

Now I could.

Only sometimes, not always, but sometimes. It starts the same as always. I will be passed out, usually from pain, and I see all these snippets of memories, or what I think are memories, pass by. Nothing unusual from what I can see of them. A room, a freshly made bed, a doctor, a plate of bland food. All of these un-notable memories and more flashed by, so fast I couldn't make some of them out. They always consisted of white though. White bed, white room, white tray covered in faintly colored food, and a doctor in a white lab coat. It always started with that. It keeps going as if on replay. That's when I usually wake up. This time I didn’t. The memories went around faster and faster, then all of a sudden, just winked out. I’m left in a black space.

No memories, no nothing.

Then, as if my mind glitched, I see an image of Newt. It only stays for a brief moment before it disappears. It comes into my field of vision, before moving away as if someone swiped it away. weird.

Like I said, a glitch.

One moment it's there, the next it’s gone. But, I can tell what it is. It’s Newt, but different. He looks, I don’t know, desperate and angry. Somethings wrong with his eyes, they look wild, crazy if you will. His face is covered in some kind of black liquid, and he looks insane. I don't remember this. This never happened. Hopefully, it never will. . .

Then I woke up.

Then I feel the pain.

Then I passed out again.

Then the normal cycle repeats itself.

But no Newt.

Just boring, bland memories of a life I don't even remember.