You gasped loudly, shooting up from the bed you lay on as you struggled to bring air into your lungs.

Pain. Blood. Memory. The Maze.

You immediately regretted moving anything at all, much less your entire body as every wound screamed in protest, pain ripping through the wounds. You laid back down, staring at your body, with hundreds of cuts, large and small, blemishing your s/c skin. You heard a rustle, and saw a worried-looking Newt enter the room, brushing aside the palm fronds that made for a door in the Medjacks' hut.

"Y/N!" he rushed to your side, brushing some of your hair from your face, his large, warm hand caressing your cheek with the softest, kindest of touches. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Like ... shit ..." you laughed weakly. Newt managed a chuckle that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"H-hey." You slowly moved so your head was in his lap. "What's wrong?"

"I'm worried about you," Newt pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you, Y/N, you know. Minho and Tommy practically dragged you out of the Maze half dead, and everyone started fighting about whether to go where you found or not."

"I love you too," you made sure to affirm, before continuing with your question. "Why was there fighting? I-it's our only way out."

"Gally thinks it's too dangerous," Newt sighed. "But I do agree with you."

You sighed, letting Newt run his hands through your hair. Before you could get carried away by the moment, you noticed he still looked worried and a little ... terrified?

"Newt? Something else is wrong, I can see it." You made sure his soft brown eyes connected with your e/c ones. "What is it?"

Newt heaved a loud sigh. "Alby woke up. We- we gave him a cure for the sting - that was what was in Teresa's vials. And he said that Thomas used to work for WICKED.. And-"

He took in a deep, shuddering breath. "And he said that he remembered you. They always made you do more than us, pushed you harder. They used to make you hurt people - hurt us. They'd hurt you until you hurt us ... and some people didn't know they tortured you to hurt us and they hated you for it. They called you the Warrior, apparently."

You put a hand to your mouth, feeling flashes of memories come back at his words. Hands, your hands, slick with blood as a brown-haired boy sobbed on the floor, screaming his hatred for you as his eyebrows contorted in pain.

"Gally. I remember them making me hurt him ... that's why he hates me so much. Oh, I feel like such shit now."

"Shh, don't blame yourself," Newt hushed, putting an arm around you. "They made you."

"Newt!" Thomas yelled, ripping into the hut, sparing you only a second of a sympathetic glance. "The ... the doors ... they're not closing."

"Holy shit," you got up, ignoring Newt when he tried to push you back down. You stretched, and were relieved that you couldn't find any trace of a pulled muscle, though your body was still destroyed in a way you'd never known could happen from a simple fall.

"Y/N, lie back down," Newt begged. "You're injured."

"If the doors aren't closing, I'm going to help defend our friends," you grabbed a spear from where it leaned on the wall. "I'll be okay, Newt."

Newt sighed, taking a torch, and running outside with you. Just in time, it seemed, as you could hear the screams of the Grievers. You saw, with a pang, that one of the small huts used for rest breaks was already up in flames. Frypan's kitchen was on fire as well, and several shouting boys ran around like headless chickens.

"Shit," you gasped, looking around wildly. "We have to get to the Council room."

"Then the fastest route ..." Newt bounced on the balls of his feet, thinking.

"Through the cornfields," you said in unison.

You both ran for the tall green plants, meeting with Thomas and Teresa as they too tried to run for the safest building in the Glade. There were shouts, shrieks and screams constantly piercing the air, and you could swear that there were Grievers all around you.

A boy you didn't recognise, his face cast in shadows, screamed as he was grabbed by a Griever only a metre from you, crying out to you, Newt, Thomas and Teresa. You stood there helplessly.

"We have to go!" Teresa cried, tearing you all out of your dazed, horrified spell. "Now!"

You kept running, feeling pains all over your body but not stopping, never stopping, until you burst from the cornfield.

A Griever stood between the four of you and the hut. It screeched loudly, and you impulsively hurled your spear at it, giving you a break to sprint for the Council room, locking yourselves inside. You looked around at the other people there: Alby, Chuck, Minho and more. You couldn't see Gally, and you felt a pang when you realised you might never get the chance to set the record straight.

"Okay, guys, shush," someone hushed, and you couched into the shadows as the telltale thunk of Griever legs echoed around the Glade.

Newt hunkered down next to you, pressing close to avoid being seen. You leant back into his chest, feeling the soothing rush of calm that came from being in his arms. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, and then stayed completely still.

There was silence, and suddenly, a metal leg crashed through the roof of the hut, bringing most of the ceiling down with it. You coughed loudly, and cried out, realising you were stuck under a beam. Newt quickly pushed it off you, pulling you up and glancing around the rest of the hut so quickly you were sure he'd get whiplash.

"Is everyone okay?" he called out. You heard a panicked cry from Thomas and rushed towards it, to see him frantically holding on to Alby, who was in the clutches of a Griever.

"Help!" Thomas cried. You latched onto Alby's arm, seeing the fear in his eyes, but also seeing the acceptance.

"No," you begged. "No, Alby, please, don't!"

"Get them out of here," he ordered quietly. "And keep them safe."

"Alby!" you screamed as the last of his resistance was drained and the Griever withdrew its prize.

You hoped that, as sad as Alby's death had been, it might buy the rest of you some more time. You all huddled in a little group at the foot of the last standing support beam, rushed breaths and occasional "shh!"s issued. Then, through the window, the tail of a Griever smashed through and seized Chuck in its firm hold.

"Chuck!" Thomas screamed, holding onto the kid. You froze in fear, but your thoughts screamed at you.

I am not losing another friend!

You seized a piece of rubble, and launched an assault on the Griever's tail, hitting it over and over, unleashing all your pain and agony.

Something inside of you clicked, and you screamed, a sound of pure and absolute agony. You launched yourself at the piece of metal itself, took it in your two hands, and ripped it in two.

Your stared down at your hands in horror as the Griever withdrew with screeches of pain, leaving Chuck collapsed on the floor.

What have they done to me?

"Y/N?" Newt asked, putting an arm around your waist and pulling your shaking body close to him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"What did I just do?" you whispered, terrified. "What did they do to me?"

"It's okay," Newt turned you towards him, using his other arm to cradle your head close to his chest. He rested his chin on top of your head as you released a few sobs. "Shh. You saved Chuck's life, Y/N. It's okay."

When you'd calmed, you stumbled outside, witnessing the total destruction.

The Glade was on fire. Boys, you could't tell if they were unconscious or dead, littered the grass, the Grievers retreating back to the Maze.

Gally stalked towards Thomas, flanked by the rest of the boys, and any desire you had to repent and explain that your younger self had had no choice and meant no harm vanished when he shoved the brunette boy, claiming:

"This is all his fault! And the girls. They're all abnormal."

"Gally, stop-" you stepped forward threateningly, but Newt gently held you back.

"He's right, Y/N," Thomas said a little sadly. "I used to work for whoever put us here. WICKED, whoever they are. Some of this is my fault. And I'm going to fix that."

You could only stare in horror as took the Griever poison he'd obtained from the one you'd torn apart, and stabbed himself in the thigh.

"Thomas!" Teresa cried, rushing to his side as he fell to the ground. Newt released you, and everyone surrounded the boy convulsing on the ground.

"Get the serum!' Teresa instructed, panicked. You raced to the Medjacks hut, hoping, praying he would be okay.

You couldn't lose another friend. Not today.

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