Day Three Hundred and Sixty Seven

Despite the med hut being swarmed with people, Ada found herself unable to move from the doorway, simply watching the chaos unfold.

There was a strange staticky sound buzzing in her ears, her mind blurring just enough for her to feel as if she was floating, watching the scene from above, not from the confines of her own body.

She watched, a fine tremor wracking her body, as Alby swept jars and cloths off the small bed in the middle of the room, yelling something she couldn't quite hear. There was a certain panic on his face she hadn't seen in a long time, not since their discovery of George's body all those months ago, every feature tightened with stress until he was barely recognisable.

Alby had been the first to find them when they returned to the glade, Newt cradled carefully in Minho's arms, careful not to touch his leg as much as they were able. Ada trailed along beside them, her fingers clutching onto the ends of Newt's, her entire world narrowing down to the rise and fall of his chest and the opening of the maze doors in front of her. Alby had swarmed them immediately, clearing a path up to the medjacks and fending off the curious gladers who had come running.

He didn't ask any questions, didn't ask what had happened or if he was okay.

He already knew.

Clint swore violently as he and Connor gently laid out Newt's gangly limbs on the bed, unwrapping the rest of the ivy from his right leg. They hadn't dared remove it as Minho had picked him up off the maze floor – from the horrific angle the limb was twisted at it looked as though the ivy was the only thing holding it together.

Ada gagged as his leg came into view, turning away from the scene to face the window, watching as a small group of gladers pointed up at them and talked under their breaths. They would need a story, she knew, some sort of cover up. If anyone found out that Newt had jumped, that he had tried to kill himself, what little hope they survived off would die before they could stop it.

"Oh God," Minho muttered, taking a few steps back until he was standing beside her. "Why does it look like that?"

Connor grimaced and squeezed Newt's leg, running his hands up and down to feel the placement of his bones. For the first time since she had found him Ada was relieved that Newt was unconscious. "Broken," Connor said eventually, his face ashy, "in three places by the looks of things. Gotta cut his trousers off and wrap it, put it in a splint."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Ada asked, speaking for the first time, her voice cracking around the question. Memories of months back assaulted her mind, when Newt was in that same bed and she was sat vigil at his bedside, carefully monitoring his breathing to make sure his heart wouldn't stop right in front of her.

Connor hesitated, telling her all she needed to know, before he busied himself with crafting a splint from the nearby supplies. "I don't know. You want my honest opinion? It'll be a miracle if he wakes up, and an even bigger one if he can ever walk on this thing again. I don't know if you know this but we don't exactly have the outstanding medical help he needs to get all fixed up right."

"Did he hit his head?" Clint asked, fingers prodding at the back of Newt's skull. His blonde hair was streaked through with blood. "Ada, focus, I gotta know if he hit his head."

She opened her mouth to respond but the words wouldn't come.

Minho cleared his throat. "We don't know. He was on the floor, so I assume so, but we just found him like that. We didn't... we didn't see him do it."

Gally appeared at the door, face pale, staring at Ada with panicked urgency. "You gotta come down here, people are wanting to know what's happened. Some are saying he was attacked, they're worrying about Grievers being out during the day, you gotta come fix this before they spiral into a mob."

Dizziness clouded Ada's mind, her shoulders sagging as she leant against the wall. Alby nudged her foot with his before sending her a comforting smile. "I'll handle this. You stay here with them."

"Okay." She said quietly.

Clint lifted Newt's eyelid, shining a runner's torch in it, and then winced. "Shit."

"What?" She asked. "What is it? Is he alright?"

"He's gonna have one hell of a headache if he wakes up, let's put it that way."

Ada's head spun. If he wakes up.

Suddenly the reality that Newt might not pull through this slammed into her full force, making her legs weak. Minho grabbed a chair and pushed it under her right as her legs gave out, her head dropping between her knees to fight back the black spots clouding her vision.

"Ada, you should go." Connor said, not looking up from where he was carefully wrapping Newt's leg, forcing the bones back into place. "You haven't eaten yet, and Charles will be serving up lunch soon."

"I'm not leaving."

"At least go get something to drink-"

"I'm not leaving." She said again, lifting her head to glare up at him. Connor shook his head, returning to his task with steel-eyed precision.

Ada's eyes remained locked on Newt the entire time, watching him breathe, taking comfort in that steady rise and fall even if the rest of him remained motionless. She let out a shuddering breath, lifting one hand to rub at the headache forming in her temple, when something sharp crinkled against her cheek.

The note was still in her hand, she realised, crumpled and torn now from her tight grip, those two words staring up at her, taunting her. A stab of rage sliced through her. How dare he leave her with only a note, no explanation or reasoning, not even a goodbye – just a simple I'm Sorry as if this wasn't one of the worst things to happen to her since she had come up in that godforsaken box.

As if seeing his body on that maze floor, tangled up in ivy and so still, barely breathing, wasn't one of the most horrifying moments of her life.

The idea of putting him in the ground, of burying him next to George, of crossing his name off that wall – it made her nauseous.

When he woke up – when, not if – she wasn't ever going to let him out of her sight.

"I don't think there's anything else we can do." Connor said eventually, staring down at Newt with defeat written all over his face. "He hit his head hard, likely has a bad concussion but we can't know for sure yet. Broke his leg in three places and all but shattered his knee, and fractured his shoulder."

"But he'll be okay?" Minho asked.

Clint shook his head slowly. "I honestly don't know. These first twenty four hours are gonna be crucial. If he pulls through the night then I'd consider it a gift from God. We'll keep checking on him but someone should stay with him, I don't like the idea of him being left alone."

"I'll stay." Ada said instantly, not looking away from the body on the bed.

"Ada-"

"I'll stay." She repeated.

Minho hesitated and then nodded, looking down at Newt with his hands twitching at his sides, clearly not knowing what to do with himself. "I'll stay with you. Just for a while."

She didn't fight him, not as Clint and Connor left the room, muttering something to each other she couldn't hear.

Silence descended over them, still and oppressive, but she didn't break it. All she did was sit, and stare.

—

The next five days were the hardest she had ever lived through.

Unlike those three days after Newt's first suicide attempt – she knew that was what it was, when he refused to eat anything and let himself waste away, uncaring if he lived or died – when she had sat at his bedside filled with restless energy, ready to yell at him when he woke up, now she was simply exhausted.

Ada remained at his bedside the entire time he was unconscious, never leaving, using the bathroom attached to the med hut, refusing to even sleep in her own hammock. Her back sent stabbing pains tearing through her entire body every time she moved, a result of sleeping in the wooden chair tucked beside his bed, but she stubbornly ignored them.

When the medjacks had come back to check on him the next morning they had seemed relieved, saying that the fact that Newt hadn't died in the night was a miracle and that his chances of recovery had skyrocketed. Ada had cried when they had left the room that night, silent tears slipping down her cheeks until she fell into a restless slumber.

Day three brought with it the first true moment of terror since she had found him in that maze. She had been speaking to him in a hushed voice, cracked from disuse, her hand resting on the bed beside his, when he had started seizing. She had panicked and screamed for the medjacks, and watched helplessly from the door as Alby and Minho held Newt's limbs still as Clint tried to prevent any further damage to his leg.

Minho had stayed with her after that, leaving only to bring her food and update her on the world outside that wooden shack. She hadn't cared enough to listen properly, counting Newt's breaths and trying to match her heartbeat to his.

The sun streaming in through the window was what woke her on day five, the light playing across her face and warming her, cutting through the cold that had taken root inside her. Ada blinked tiredly, groaning slightly as she turned her face into the scratchy sheets of Newt's bed.

Another sensation broke through the tired fog, something heavy moving on top of her head, brushing her hair away from her face. The sensation of it had her head snapping up, and the tired chuckle that came from the figure on the bed was quite possibly the best thing she had ever heard.

Newt was staring at her with a small smile on his face, the hand closest to her falling away from her cheek from where he had been playing with her hair. His eyes were half lidded from exhaustion, the bruises under them stark. Half of his body was black and blue from the fall, and he had to have been aching tremendously. "Hey." His voice was throaty and barely audible.

Ada let out a relieved sob, lowering her head to the bed again as she shut her eyes tightly to stave off tears.

"Oh, hey," Newt's fingers twitched with the effort it took for him to brush against her cheek, a touch so gentle it had sparks cracking underneath her skin, leaving a trail of warmth behind them. "S'okay."

Ada lifted her head, looking up at him with wide eyes full of tears. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around his, clutching at him as if he were her last tether to this earth and he might slip away from her any second. She opened her mouth to speak and had to bite back a sob at the way he was looking at her, eyes full of tears and desperation.

"Please don't yell." He said eventually, voice thick with tears. "I can't take that, not right now."

Ada nodded, looking away from him for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. A million questions fought each other in her mind, all of them desperate to burst free – why did he do it, why did he not say anything, why did he let it get this bad, why didn't he say goodbye, why did he try to leave her?

"Why?" She rasped out, rubbing her thumb over his. Nausea rose hard and fast, but she would be damned if she was letting go of his hand for anything in the world right then.

Newt's eyes fluttered shut, a pained expression overtaking his face. "Ada, please."

"Why?" She asked again.

Newt took a deep breath, the action clearly painful, and looked up at the ceiling, a single tear dripping down into his hair. "I couldn't do it. Not anymore. I just wanted it to end. Just wanted all of it to end."

Ada took another shuddering breath, not knowing how to respond.

"It hurts." Newt said, so quiet she almost missed it. "It hurts, Ada. You should have just let me die." He looked down at her fleetingly, his eyes so full of pain she had to look away. "Why didn't you just let me die?"

"You can't," Ada said. "You can't do that. You can't just leave me with a note like that. You didn't even say goodbye. You should have woken me up. Damnit, Newt, why didn't you wake me up?"

Newt closed his eyes and sunk back into his pillows, looking so pale and fragile she worried a gust of wind would shatter him. "Because I knew if I saw you, if you were awake and looking up at me and asking me to stay, I would have."

"So why didn't you?" She pleaded.

"Please don't do this, Ada." Newt shook his head as much as he was able to.

She wanted to push, wanted to demand he open his eyes again and just talk to her, but the terror of pushing him too far too fast rose up in her with enough forecity to have her lean back in her seat, squeezing his hand.

"I can't lose you." She said slowly. "I need you to understand that."

Newt's eyes opened blearily and landed on her.

"I need you to stay with me, because you're one of the only things in this goddamn place that encourages me to keep fighting." She hesitated, staring down at their hands, at the way his fingers were so much longer than hers. "I care about you. I care about everyone here, the gladers are family to me, but I care about you. You snuck up on me, I wasn't expecting you, but what you said the other night by the fire goes both ways. I need you just as much as you need me, so don't you dare do anything like this again, okay?"

"I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to stay." Ada said. Tears dripped down Newt's face openly now, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "That's all I'll ever ask. Just stay."

He nodded jerkily, hand clutching hers like she was his lifeline. "I want to," he said after a moment's hesitation, "but it's so hard. I don't know how to live like this. We've lost so many people. Every time there's a shred of hope it gets ripped away from us. It's not a life I can keep living, Ada."

"Yes, it is." She said firmly. "I'll help you. I'll help you find a reason to keep going."

Newt stared up at her, a strange expression on his face, as if he was trying to tell her something that she couldn't quite figure out, something she was missing.

Ada swallowed heavily. "Please, just let me help you. I can get you through this, if you just let me." She slowly unwound her fingers from his, holding out her pinkie. Newt's eyes were downcast and filled with tears when he looped his pinkie through hers, squeezing it as tight as he was able.

He nodded, eventually, eyes fluttering shut again, succumbing to exhaustion.

Even after sleep reclaimed him, Ada didn't let go of his hand.

—

Newt was confined to his bed for the next two weeks, unable to do anything but lie there and wait to heal enough for him to be able to move. Ada had caught him on multiple occasions staring at his leg with a pained expression. He would heal, Clint had said, but the damage was done and there was no way of telling what lasting effects there would be.

His mind would repair itself, she knew, but the reminder of what he had tried to do would be written on his body forever.

When Alby poked his head around the door one night, long after the rest of the gladers had gone to bed, his eyes landed on where Ada was sitting with her head resting on Newt's mattress, fast asleep. Newt was awake, propped up on the pillows, one hand holding that day's map of the maze that he was studying, the other absentmindedly toying with the ends of Ada's hair spread along the bed.

"She finally sleeping?" He asked, and Newt looked up from the map with a gentle smile. There was more colour on his face now, Alby was pleased to see, the bruises faded to almost nothing. "Bout time, was seriously considering dragging her down to her hammock if she didn't get some shut eye soon."

"She's stubborn." Newt said softly, voice lowered so as to not wake her up. The crease in his brow when he looked down at her told Alby he was more worried than he let on.

Ada had all but refused to leave his side, and had only been doing half days in the maze that last week. After the end of every shift, she had trudged up the steps to the med room with her arms full of paper, and Newt would help her map what route she had taken that day, so that the model in the runners hut could be updated.

"She isn't the only one." Alby shot him a pointed look, which Newt promptly ignored. "We gotta talk." He said after a beat of silence, moving around to the other side of the bed.

"About what?"

"I told the rest of the gladers it was an accident." Alby said, not looking away even as Newt flinched and looked back down at his lap. "They were worried about it being an attack. Some slinthead spread rumours about you getting mauled by a Griever. Idiot."

"Bet that was fun to clean up." Newt swallowed heavily and glanced up at Alby curiously. "Why didn't you tell them?" He asked. "That I tried to... that I did what I did. Why didn't you tell them?"

Alby sat down slowly, eyes heavy with thought. "Because I know what the people here are like. If there's even a hint of darkness it spreads, and wipes out the hope entirely. We can't have that, otherwise we'll have another Stephen on our hands and will be banishing people left right and centre. Besides," he said after a moment, "they'd treat you differently. Not all of them, I'm sure, but some would look at you as if you were weak. Damaged. Incapable. You don't deserve that."

"Maybe they're right."

"They're not." Alby said, as if it were the most simple fact in the world. "You were scared and angry, and you lost hope for a second. Lost sight of what we fight for. That's not a crime, Newt. You did what you did, and there's no changing it now. What you can change is how you react to it. You can grow from this, come out the other side stronger. And if you need someone to remind you of that, I know a few people who'll be in your corner." Alby winked at him teasingly, and Newt chuckled as he looked down at his lap again.

His fingers toyed with the edges of the map in front of him, drawing Alby's attention to it.

"She gave you the maps again?" He asked. "Good. We all thought it would be a good idea to keep you involved, even if you can't run right now."

"I can't run at all." Newt said, gesturing half-heartedly to his leg. "Fucked this bloody thing up and now it's useless. Clint reckons it'll heal but he doubts running will be much of an option for me. Not for a long while, if ever."

"We'll take it one step at a time. You're an important part of this, Newt. That hasn't changed. Don't give up on that. When you can, and you will be able to, you'll pick yourself up and finish what you started." Alby nodded firmly. That crinkle had appeared between Newt's eyebrows again, so he changed the topic before he could get too much in his head. "There was another thing I wanted to discuss with you. I was thinking about giving you more of a leadership position in the Glade. You're already part of the inner circle, so your say counts a lot more, but we need someone with a level head and some common sense to be second in command around here."

"I thought Ada was second in command?" Newt asked as he looked back down at the girl sleeping at his side, smiling slightly at the tuft of hair that had fallen across her eyes. He brushed it away carefully.

"Yeah, because level headed and rational are definitely words I'd use to describe that girl." Alby rolled his eyes affectionately. "She doesn't want it." He shrugged. "I talked to her about it last night, and she doesn't want the responsibility. She'll always be the head of this place, really. I mean, her and I took charge when we had to, we know this place better than anyone. I value her opinion more than anything in this world, so she'll always have a say really, but I don't think she's interested in her leadership role going any further."

"Why do you think that is?" Newt asked curiously.

"Stephen. He shook her confidence, I think. She made the call not to pursue the possible exit, and in her eyes it cost everyone the chance of a way out of here. Can't imagine that shank helped, turning people against her."

Guilt flashed across Newt's face, remorse for the blame that he himself had placed on her, just because he couldn't get out of his own head long enough to see that she was suffering too.

Alby watched him with knowing eyes, shaking his head slightly. "She'll come 'round eventually. But I agree with her when she said there's no one else better suited. So? You in?"

Newt hesitated for a moment before nodding, shaking Alby's hand. "Yeah... yeah, it might be nice to help out more."

Alby nodded, relieved. Ada was worried, he knew, about Newt slipping back into the cracks of his own mind, feeling useless in their pursuit for freedom. Worse, now, when he couldn't run and help them map the maze. The glade had been a gilded cage to him before, but now? When he couldn't move? She worried that the bars were shrinking fast and steady enough to suffocate him.

"Good that."

A quiet snuffling sound came from where Ada was blinking her eyes open, stretching as well as she was able to whilst still hunched over.

"Well hello there." Alby grinned at her. Ada simply huffed and face planted the mattress again. Newt laughed and patted her head carefully, smiling softly down at her.

"What time s'it?" She grumbled.

Alby checked his watch. "Just gone midnight. Everyone else is asleep. You need some proper rest, come downstairs and sleep in your own hammock for once, okay?"

"No, no I should stay here." She protested tiredly, her eyes already sliping shut again.

Newt nudged her and shook his head. "You need sleep, Ada. Proper sleep. Whilst I appreciate you keeping me company like this, it's not good for you to stay here all the time. Go get some proper rest."

Ada frowned, unease sparking in her eyes. "But-"

"No buts." Newt stretched out his hand until it rested beside hers on the bed, his thumb pressing against the side of her little finger. "I'll be just fine here by myself for one night."

"Are you sure?"

"It's not like anything's gonna happen." Newt shrugged. "What am I gonna do, run off again?"

"Too soon, Newt."

"I'm just trying to get rid of you before the yelling starts." He raised an eyebrow at her as she tried to interrupt. "You've been building up to a pretty solid rant for weeks now. At least this time I didn't wake up to apples being thrown at me. A small mercy."

"Don't tempt me." She said darkly.

Newt shot her a teasing wink only slightly hindered by his own tiredness. "Dictator."

"Moron."

"Idiots." Alby said tiredly to himself. "C'mon, Ada. Let's go get some rest. He'll still be here tomorrow, alright?"

Ada glanced at Newt uncertainly one last time as she rose to her feet, hesitating even as he shot her a supportive smile. When she was sure he wasn't going to try anything, she nodded to herself and made her way to the door. "I'm holding you to that."

—

It was another week before Newt was able to stand up again, and another week after that before he could walk. The stairs down from the med hut were gruelling and painful, Ada could see it with every grimace and wince he tried to hide from her on the way down. The crutches Nick and Avin had fashioned for him, glorified wooden sticks wound together with ivy and rope, were uncomfortable under his arms, but the weight of his broken leg was too agonising to move without them.

But re-entering the glade almost a whole month after his fall was worth the trouble it took. Ada watched him intently as they emerged into the sunlight, the dew of the grass crunching under their feet, the smell of pork and hash browns lingering heavily in the air. Laughter and teasing yelling came from all four corners; from the track hoes as they tended the gardens, the slicers as they cared for the livestock, the cooks from the kitchen as they cleaned away the remnants of breakfast, and the builders as they chased each other with hammers and repaired the hole in the side of the council hall.

All of it created an atmosphere of home that she breathed in with relief, hovering by the Homestead as she waited for Newt to join her. When he reached her side he visibly paused, staring out at the glade with such a lost but hopeful expression that it had Ada's insides flipping.

"This place is home for me." She said after a moment, staring out at the family she had built before looking up at him with a sweet smile. "Even though we search every day for a way out, this is home. I know it doesn't feel that way for you now, but it will. I promise."

Newt was silent for a moment before he looked down at her, his eyes unusually bright. "I hope so."

"C'mon," she said, "I wanna show you something. Think you can make it to the deadheads?"

"I can sure as hell try." Newt shrugged and readjusted the crutches, keeping his bad leg off the floor as he hobbled after her. Ada slowed her pace to match his struggling one, and tried to ignore the stares and odd looks they received from the curious gladers around them. Most of them were unfazed by it – injuries were common in the glade, after all – but it was the first time any of them had seen Newt outside since the 'accident'.

"Why are they all staring at me?" He grumbled, obviously uncomfortable. "I know my leg is a little... unfortunate looking, but this seems extreme."

Trying to take his mind off it, Ada shot him a smug smirk. "Your leg looks fine, it's your face that's unfortunate looking."

"Is that so?" Newt grinned down at her. "And to think you once called me pretty."

Ada huffed. "That is taken out of context."

"How dare you. I'm stunning."

You certainly are. The thought appeared before she could stop it, and it almost had her tripping over nothing as she flushed a deep red. "You, uh–" Fuck. "You keep telling yourself that, sunshine. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Oh I'll sleep fine now that I'm out of that goddamn hospital bed." Newt shuddered dramatically, seemingly not picking up on her internal panic. "Honestly, I nearly died and that's the treatment I got. Pretty sure the sodding thing was made out of bricks."

"Encouragement to recover fast, I'm sure." Ada snickered.

They reached the edge of the deadheads at last, and the lights and sounds of the glade faded into nothing behind them as they walked further and further towards the back walls. Newt grew quieter the deeper they went, from pain or unease she wasn't sure. He had to have recognised where they were going by now, lord knew he had spent enough time in this part of the forest in his first few months in the glade, but he didn't speak and simply followed her blindly until they reached the cemetery.

Ada paused at the edge of the small clearing, staring down at the seven lopsided graves in front of her, more overgrown the further back they went. She walked over to Luke's, carefully picking off the moss and fixing the wooden slats where it had tilted over time.

Newt watched her silently by the trees, but after a minute of quiet he broke the silence with a soft but guarded voice. "Why did you bring me here, Ada?"

"I wanted to show you."

"I've seen them before." Newt's eyes were mapping the final four graves, glossing over Stephen and Isaac's before fixing on Archie and Ennis's, the soil still overturned and fresh.

"Yes," she nodded, "but you don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"Who they were." Ada crouched down in front of George's grave, a tear slipping silently down her cheek as she placed a hand against the wood. "You don't know their stories, what happened to them. What they sacrificed."

Newt hobbled over to her, pausing before the first row of graves. Slowly, he sank himself down into a seated position, stretching out his bad leg, and stared at her expectantly. "So tell me."

So she did.

Ada told Newt of the boy who had first walked into the maze, of his red hair and kind eyes and the golden chain around his neck. Told him about the funny faces he had pulled at the beetle blades, about the panic in his voice as the doors were closing, about how he had shoved her through before they closed and sacrificed his safety for hers. She told him about the first boy who had died there, on their first day in the glade, and how she still wore his chain around her neck over a year later.

She told Newt about the boy with the dark hair and the serious eyes, who was the worst cook there but somehow the only one who either didn't burn the kitchen down or give them food poisoning, about how she missed his god awful vegetable stew at times. About how he was the only one brave enough to climb the wall, and how he screamed as he fell when the creators stopped him.

She hesitated when she got to George, sitting cross legged staring at the patch of grass where she knew he lay peacefully, ignorant to the suffering and trials of those around him.

"Who was he?" Newt asked, speaking for the first time since she had started speaking. He squinted at the lopsided lettering on the wooden slat. "George. Who was he?"

"He was my... he was my friend." Ada said after a moment. "He was the only one who understood. Who got what it was like. He was never cruel, or snappish, but he was smart, and witty, and so unfailingly loyal. He stood by me through everything, made me feel that there was hope to keep going when I thought there was none."

"... What happened to him?"

Ada swallowed heavily. "He killed himself." She could hear Newt's sharp intake of breath behind her, but didn't turn around. She couldn't look at him, not right then. "I don't know if he meant to do it or not. He got stung, got violent. It was my fault, really. I took him out into the maze with me, and he got stung. Told us to tie him to a tree overnight, said that he didn't trust himself not to hurt us. When I went back to untie him the next morning he was... it was too late."

"God, Ada..." Newt shuffled in his seat, reaching a hand out to her. It brushed the back of her shirt, just a featherlight touch. "I'm so sorry."

"He would have been proud of this place." She said, swiping at her wet cheeks. "They all would. Luke, Carson, George... they would have been so proud. I can almost see them laughing and joking around with the rest of the Gladers. It was just us, back then, just the six of us, and there's so many more people now. They would have loved it."

"Ada... why are you telling me this?"

Ada turned her backs to the graves, looking at Newt where he was silhouetted in the streaks of light struggling in through the trees. "Because all of these people, all of my friends, died to get us out of here. Luke saved my life, sacrificed himself for me, a complete stranger. Carson risked everything and climbed one of the goddamn maze walls to see the top and tell us what we were up against. George killed himself so that he wouldn't hurt us, so we would have a chance to go on and solve this mystery. Stephen and Isaac, as misguided as they were, died for the chance to get out of here. Archie and Ennis both gave their lives searching for a solution."

She gestured vaguely behind her, staring at the tears slowly gathering in Newt's eyes.

"All of them died so we could get out. So that we could keep searching, keep fighting, for a way out and for each other. I refuse to give up on that, and I refuse to let you give up on it too. We are going to get out of here. We are going to see what's beyond those walls. And when we do, we do it together. Okay?"

Newt stared at her for a moment, face impassive, before his eyes tracked over the graves behind her. Each of them someone who died for what they believed in. A new sense of purpose filled him, invigorating him as he looked back at Ada.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Okay. Together."