Newt’s POV:

Minho convinced me to eat a couple apples, then I just kind of stood around while the group discussed what they thought happened to Teresa. I didn’t know who, but I heard some one make suggestion that I couldn't take

“Maybe she died. . .”

My legs just kind of gave up, and I sat down on the floor. People rushed around me, I saw Minho, and I think I saw Clint. The world was swirling around me. I couldn’t hear anything except this weird rushing noise that seemed to fill my head. I felt hands on me, I heard Clint say something about breathing.

What had he said?

The rushing just stopped all at once. I saw everyone looking at me, but their faces were blending together. It almost felt deafening to hear silence. Then Minho’s voice reached out to me.

“Newt, Newt sweetie, are you okay?”

I managed to get out a few words

“Yeah, I’m okay. . .”

Then I passed out.

When I woke up, everything was black, and I was seriously questioning if I was actually awake. Then I felt hands on me, and head hushed voices. People were carrying me. I struggled in the arms, and heard Thomas.

“Newt, stop squirming, or me and Minho will drop you. . .”

“Well, put me down, I can walk!”

I felt my legs drop down, and I stood, and almost immediately crashed into the person who had been carrying the upper part of my body. Hadn’t Thomas said it was Minho? I felt hands on me, steadying me, then I heard the voice and I knew it was Minho. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“So, you can walk?”

I nodded.

“Yeah I can, I was just caught off balance. Let go of me!”

“If you insist!”

Minho’s hands dropped off me, and I took a few steps, before keeling sideways, hitting my body on a hard wall. Minho put an arm around my shoulder

“You know, maybe I should help you walk, as much as it’s funny to watch you attempt to walk, I don’t want you to die.”

I rolled my eyes, and realized I was fully awake, and the place we were in was still dark.

“Minho, where are we?”

“Well, we aren't exactly sure. The man told us that we had three weeks to cross the scorch, and we went into this portal, he called it a flat-trans I think. Anyway, we have to get through the cave into the scorch.”

I could understand that much. . . sort of.

“How long was I out? What even happened to me?”

Minho was silent for a second

“Almost three hours. Clint said that you had some sort of panic attack. Are you sure you're alright?”

I was about to answer, when a call came from up ahead. More of a blind scream. More screams followed, these I could make out.

“What is that?”

“Watch out!”

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“What the shuck?”

I was debating whether to run ahead, and help, or run away. After a few minutes, we had reached the place where the screaming was. There was a glader, dead.

His head was. . . covered in a metal ball. . .

That’s when everyone started running. Hard as shuck We had been running for what felt like forever, and about three or four gladers had been attacked, before we reached an exit. Thomas went out first, and came barrelling back in almost immediately

“It’s shucking hot out there!”

Minho sighed

“Well, Thomas, it’s a dessert. I think it’s supposed to be hot.”

The way he said it with no hint of sarcasm in his voice was what made me laugh. He just stated it. I turned, now able to see things a little better with the light filtering through the hole. Everyone had packs of things. Probably food. I stepped up onto the ledge, still a bit wobbly, but other than that, able to stand myself.

“Everyone, take your pack apart. We’ll have a few people carry the food at a time. Grab your sheet from it, and a partner, and drape it around you, then that should hopefully protect you from the sun.”

Everyone started to follow my orders. Minho held a hand out to me, and helped me down from the ledge, then bowed to me.

“May I have the pleasure of sharing your shelter?”

I feigned thinking

“Hmmm. I was thinking about sharing with Tommy. . .”

Minho looked appalled, but when he saw me try to hide my laughter, he immediately wised up.

“Hey! Not funny!”

Minho pouted, and jokingly pushed him

“Ah, slim it. You know I would be honored to share a sheet with you.”

Minho glared at me before chucking his sheet over the both of us.

Minho’s POV:

Well, day one is finished. We ran the whole day, and into most of the night too. We decided to sleep under our sheets, so here I was. Under the sheet with Newt. I drifted off into an uneasy sleep, and awoke to Newt gulping air. I turned onto my side so I was facing him. He was shaking. I put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched

“Newt? What is it?”

“I-I. . . nothing. I’m okay.”

I knew I sounded stern but I didn’t care

“No, no, you're clearly not Newt.”

Newt turned so he was facing me, and I realized he had tears in his eyes.

“I-It’s nothing. Really.”

“Newt. . .”

Newt looked straight at me.

“No, Minho. It’s stupid. Like everything about me. . .”

I shook my head

“Newt you are not stupid. Nothing about you is stupid. Every. Single. Thing. About. You. Is. Amazing.”

I made every word distinct and clear. Maybe now it would finally sink in to his brain.

“I-I had another nightmare. Go ahead. Laugh.”

Wait. another? So something like this had happened, and he didn’t tell me?

More importantly, I didn’t help him?

“What happened in it?”

Newt took a deep breath

“W-Well, I’m in the glade, a-and Alby and Chuck come, t-they say it was my fault. Because I t-told them it would be okay. Then they say I’m going to h-hurt someone else by saying it’ll b-be okay, a-and I s-see the other d-dead gladers.”

“Sweetie, that’s not stupid. Alby and Chuck didn’t die because of you. Alby died because he chose to, and Chuck also died because he chose to.”

Newt sniffled and nodded.

“Th-That’s not all of it. . .”

“What’s the other part?”

“Well, th-they say I’m going to hurt someone by telling them it’ll be okay-”

“Which you won’t”

Newt ignored me.

“And, I’m worried I might. . . hurt y-you. . .”

I hugged Newt.

“Baby, there's no way you could ever hurt me.”

“B-But I already did.”

I pulled back and looked at him

“When? When have you hurt me?”

Newt was crying now.

“W-When I jumped.”

My brain temporarily filled with the images of Newt laying on the ground, Newt close to death, Newt with crutches.

“B-But, Newt, you were hurting yourself more. . .”

Newt shook his head.

“That's the p-part that makes no sense. It d-didn’t hurt. It felt g-good. . .”

How many times will my heart break before it heals?

Jurys is still out on that apparently.

The number has just gone up by one.

I just sat there, with tears running down my cheeks. Newt reached a hand out to me

“Min, it’s alright. . .”

I noticed he didn’t say okay.

“No. No it's not Newt. It's not alright that you ever felt like that in the first place. It’s not alright that you blame yourself. It’s not alright that I can't help you!”

I yelled that last part. Or at least it felt like yelling.

“Minho. You’ve always been there for me. . .”

I managed a weak smile

“We’re both there for each other.”

“Always.”