"No, you can't send him into the Glade without his sight," a boy stammered, "he won't even last a week."

A woman holding a clipboard sighed. "It's all part of the experiment, we need as many Variables thrown at them to find this cure."

The boy scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. "How is basically sending off a blind kid to die helpful?"

Another girl spoke, but quietly into the other's ear. "Listen, you need to stop. We can't do anything to change their mind."

The boy shook his head. "No, there's no way I'm letting you guys do this. He'll die."

The woman spoke again. "Please step aside, I'm sorry but you can't fight me on this. The board has decided on who gets sent up, and unfortunately he has been chosen."

He backed up, body touching the side of the bed where a boy, blonde and perfect, lay. His eyes were closed, lips open merely, and his chest moving up and down every so slightly. "At least give him his sight." He pleaded.

She sighed. She gestured for two big men to come in, and before the boy could do anything, they had grabbed both his arms, pulling him out of the way. More people entered the room, and started to take the bed away, ignoring the screams and the cries of the boy.

"Please, not Newt... Please!"

***

He wakes up. It's odd to him, though, as he feels his eyes being open but still seeing darkness. He doesn't exactly know where he is, so he sits up in silence, pulling his legs up to his chest. The Glade, he thought to himself, that's where he was. He frowns, though, as he has never heard of such a place.

"Good morning, greenie." A voice next to him says.

He jumps instantly, hands grabbing himself in instinct.

The person laughs, he recognizes them from yesterday. It was the person who had welcomed him. "Gotta remember not to scare you like that."

He doesn't find it funny, but he smiles and nods in response.

"So, you got a name, greenie?"

He frowns, and tries to remember. He concentrates hard, through his world of darkness, trying to find something that had been taken away from him. Suddenly, everything clicks for just a few seconds, and he remembers.

Newt.

He finds it weird that he can remember, even if he had attempted to remember. It was as if someone had flicked a light switch, and everything was clearer, except in this case, it wasn't. Newt was still blind.

"My name's Newt." He mutters. He finds it weird the way it rolls of his tongue, and how it sounds.

"You've got a funny way of speaking, Newt," the guy says, patting his shoulder, "I'm Alby. I'll be the one to take you around and introduce you to everyone."

Newt is quiet for a while, and it makes Alby squirm in uncomfortableness.

"I don't need a babysitter." He says firmly.

Newt hears Alby shuffling around him, and jumps slightly when he feels Alby hand him a long stick of wood. "You don't," he agrees, "but I'm going to make sure you don't get yourself in any trouble, anyway."

Newt doesn't object, but he does ask about the stick in his hand.

"Minho figured it'll help you walk around and make sure you don't bump into things," Alby says, "you don't need to use it if you don't want to, but it was just an idea."

Newt nods, swinging his legs off the bed. He stands up, gripping the stick tight, and he walks forward, swaying the stick left and right, along to his steps. He can feel the roughness of the floor, and hear the sounds of the stick hitting something nearby, and he feels a small smile on his face.

"Thank you."

***

From a screen, a boy watches, heartbroken and devastated. His eyes are glazed with tears, threatening to spill.

"I'll protect you, I promise." He whispers to himself.