~Sara~

It was late, and almost everyone was asleep. Everyone except Newt and Sara, and probably a few others given that the night wasn't completely silent.

Newt led Sara into the deadheads with a torch in hand. He buried the stick to the ground, making sure the torch was sturdy enough to stay upright, then he bid Sara to take a seat on a large boulder while he sat right across from her on another one.

Sara looked at him with fear in her eyes. "Newt, what's wrong? You haven't said a word to me since I got back. Please, just talk to me."

Newt looked so disappointed that she was terrified to hear what he had to say. "Maybe you should do the talking. Looks like you've got a long time's worth of things to confess." He frowned at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Oh no. No no no no.

He knew, and what was worse was that he found out before she could even confess to him, which she was planning to do tonight. 

He got ahead of her and knew something was up, because she could see the hurt in his eyes, and she saw every bit of trust he had for her shatter into a million pieces.

This was it for them; she knew it.

And she didn't even know how to begin. "Newt, I—"

"Let's begin with the letter, shall we?" He pulled it out of his pocket, and started waving it around in the air. "When did you write it?"

His tone was so abrupt that it sent her stuttering. "I... a long—a long time ago."

He leaned over to her, furrowing his eyebrows, and causing her to scoot back instinctively. "Why so nervous? I know it was you. Why do you think I made you write me that list?"

Although she had no right to be upset with him, it hurt to know that he used her to give herself away. She was an idiot for not having had thought about her telltale handwriting, but that was what she got for delaying the truth. And it was too late now.

And here she was, thinking he had asked her to write it just to be cute. And there was nothing she could say to explain herself now, so she didn't say a word.

She could almost hear her own heart break.

Newt passed shaky fingers through his hair, then extended his hands, batting them in the air at her. "Sara, you bloody talk to me! What are you hiding?" He stared at her intently, and she saw fear in his eyes, as if he were afraid of finding out.

Sara couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore. "I..." her eyes rapidly swelled with tears, "...I never lost my memories."

Newt huffed in utter astonishment, and his eyes grew wide. His gaze flickered to the ground in a daze, and he blinked rapidly as if to make sure that he wasn't dreaming; that he could wake up from a nightmare at any moment.

Sara took that as her opportunity to explain herself for once. "Newt, I was gonna tell you—"

But he held up a finger. "You've been lying... this whole time," he whispered in horror. "You weren't gonna tell me—not if I hadn't caught up with your lies first!" He stood up.

"I was terrified that you'd react like this," she whimpered.

He just kept shaking his head, and then he took a seat once again. "So you know everything. The Maze, the creators, what—how... How did you even get here? Everyone was right on that. Your arrival doesn't add up," he muttered with disgust.

No... not you too...

With a torn-up soul, she told him everything she knew Rebecca allowed her to tell him.

He remained completely silent the entire time, obviously trying his hardest to grasp everything and understand. But by the time she finished, he looked like he'd been in and out of the Maze about ten times.

The look of pure distress and dismay on his face broke whatever was left of her heart, leaving a black hole in its place.

That was exactly what she was afraid of doing to him. She didn't care about herself. She knew she deserved this for waiting so long to say anything, and for lying. And she already knew that what she had with Newt was in danger, and it was all her fault. But Newt still paid the price.

"One question," he finally spoke, but in a low voice, which surprised her. "Be honest."

"Yeah?" she urged him. Her voice was so small, sounding like she was afraid each of her words was a knife plunging into his chest.

But his words hurt more than a cut from the finest blade in the world. "Do you even love me, Sara? Or was that just a strategic move in your... plan?" He gazed straight into her eyes and maintained a stone-cold expression as his own eyes teared up. "Am I your cover?" he asked as his voice broke.

Newt... why... why would you...?

She huffed with shock and could barely keep herself from bursting out into loud cries.

"My love for you is as certain as my entire existence. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me," she sobbed. "Newt, I never lied about that. And if I didn't tell you the truth before, it's because I wanted to protect you from all the horrors out there. Because you already have enough to deal with, and I didn't want to add up to it. Please, believe me. I love you."

She tried to reach out for his hand, but he retracted it. "I've only known the person you've pretended to be this whole time. That's the person I've loved. And now, you're saying you're someone else. I don't know you anymore. I don't know the person you're telling me you are. Is your name even Sara? Who is she?" he demanded, without any intent of letting her respond. "Quite frankly..." he added, averting his gaze from her, "I don't even think I ever want to get to know her."

That felt like a knife was plunged into her chest, pulled out, re-inserted, and swiveled around to dig deeper, opening up a wound too severe to heal.

It was her fault. He felt much worse, knowing she kept this from him. She didn't even want to pretend like she was hurting just as much for his lack of understanding toward her.

"No, Newt, please," she begged, nonetheless. "You don't get it, just let me explain!"

"It's too late for that!" he shouted, tears spilling from his eyes. "You should've been honest with me from the start! You even got mad at me for doubting you when the thing with Thomas happened. You said I was acting like I didn't know you and never gave you the benefit of the doubt. Well, guess what? I don't know you, and you don't deserve the benefit of the doubt, but I still gave it to you until I confirmed that you wrote that letter!"

"You could've just asked me about the letter when you found it!" she shouted back, crying as well. "You didn't have to make me look like a fool!"

Newt was silent for a few seconds, trying to wipe away the continuous flow of tears. When he finally spoke up, Sara almost felt sick to her stomach from the well-deserved guilt.

"Why would I even bother?" he asked softly. "We weren't even together yet when I found that letter. If I had asked, like you're saying I should've done, you would've just lied to my face... I didn't make you look like a fool, I have to give it to you. You were very smart... I was the fool."

And just like that, he stood up, took the torch, and walked away. She begged after him so they could go back and talk, but he strayed further away from her. And he disappeared from the deadheads, leaving her in the darkness, and the aching remorse crawling inside, eating away at her.

She'd never sobbed so bitterly since she stepped foot in the Glade. They were tears of total loss. It wasn't that everything else that'd happened to her in the past wasn't worse. But she had Newt. And now, she lost everything she loved. She had nothing.

That's what you get for always trying to play the hero. Trying to save everyone all on your own. That's not your job. Rebecca should've chosen someone else, she told herself as she slumped to the ground, a crying mess, curling up into a ball.

Suddenly, the pitch blackness was painted by the glow of fire. Her crying stopped, and she was relieved that Newt had changed his mind.

But her disappointment was greater as hands gripped her arms harshly. She knew it wasn't him. And the next thing she realized, she was being hauled to her feet. She blinked several times to free her eyes from the blurriness of her tears, and the image of the boy gripping her arm finally cleared up.

Just who she needed to see.

"Gally, please let go. You're hurting me," she pleaded with him.

"Let you go? Not this time, shank. I've been waiting so long for this moment," he sneered.

His grip on her arm tightened, and Sara let out a soft whimper. He forcefully pulled her along with him, all the way to Alby's hammock. Gally didn't even bother to be quiet, and a few Gladers woke up to see her being hauled along. But of course, no one bothered to say anything.

"Alby! Surprise, surprise! Got a little gift for ya," Gally shouted triumphantly.

The leader jerked awake in his hammock. He rubbed his eyes before focusing his sight on the obnoxious boy standing before him.

Gally pulled her in front of him, as if bringing a prisoner before a king for a final sentence. She was already condemned in Gally's mind.

Alby couldn't have looked more confused. "Dude, what the shuck? Is that...?" he squinted his eyes and lowered his eyebrows, "...w—what are you doing?"

Gally smiled proudly. "Got ya proof that what I've been warning you guys about this whole time is true," he gushed.

Alby still wasn't sure what was going on. "Sara? But... I don't understand."

"Easy," said Gally. "This slinthead has been lying to us about everything." His grip on her arm felt like he could rip it off her torso.

Alby groaned. "Gally, I swear I'll skin you in the morning for waking me up for this klunk. Go back to sleep and leave Sara alone." He lay back down, turning his back on Gally.

"Don't believe me? Ask Newt," said Gally.

Sara's eyes widened. He was either spying on her and Newt, or Newt went straight to tell him, which she hoped that wasn't true. If Newt were to tell someone, it would be Alby, and he hadn't known anything until Gally opened his big mouth.

Alby was fully awake as soon as the words left Gally's lips, and he scrambled to stand up. "What? Why Newt? What does he have to do with this?" He looked over at Sara for an answer, but she could hardly even maintain eye contact.

"Thank the Grievers I overheard a conversation between the lovebirds. Ended up in a fight. And I saw how Newt was acting at the end of the Gathering. That raised my suspicions." Gally spoke as if he had discovered an exit to the Maze. All he wanted was to find some kind of fault in Sara, and now that he won, there was no stopping him.

And now that news got to Alby, the last of her disgraces unveiled before her eyes. Alby had started being nicer to her at Newt's expense. Now she had to say goodbye to that too.

Gally told Alby everything he heard, and Sara tried her hardest to keep avoiding eye contact. She was tired of all the faces of disappointment thrown in her direction, from people with which she grew close—except for Gally, of course.

"Put her in the pit," Alby said, pinching the bridge of his nose, then groaned loudly. "I'm tired of this, but we'll have another Gathering tomorrow. And we'll decide what to do with her."

Gally nodded, satisfied. "And what about the other five guys in there right now?" he asked.

Alby was pensive for a moment, but then he raised his head decisively. "Let them out. And put her in," he said, nodding toward Sara.

He gave her one last look of dismay before walking over to take a seat by the fire, still burning in the dark of the night. His deception was so strong that he couldn't seem to want to go back to sleep.

"Right on it," Gally said, pulling her along. Taking a glance at the leader sitting by the fire, he added, "It's for the best, Alby. Soon, no one'll have the shuck guts to defend this girl."

Sara shook her head, and with Alby being unresponsive, she panicked. "No! Alby, no, please. Listen to me! I did it for all of you," she pleaded, struggling against Gally's grip to no avail.

Gally yanked at her arm. "Shut your hole! Only ones willing to listen to your screams will be the beetle blades!" he shouted in her ear, and she cringed.

No more words were spoken before Sara was thrown into the dreaded slammer for the third time.

Her ears were buzzing, and the only clear sound she was able to hear was the slamming of the door and its haunting echo afterwards. The laughter of the five boys that were liberated as she was thrown inside would've normally affected her, but even those mocking voices seemed too distant to pay any heed to them.

She was left there all alone, enclosed with her worries, and left to drown in every drop of guilt she could take in until it completely consumed her. No more tears were left to shed. Her mind, her thoughts, her body—everything was numb.

Newt was the only thing occupying space in her mind. She half expected him to be rushing to see her, just like the last time she was thrown in there. To tell her that he understood, and that he forgave her; that everything was gonna be okay.

But all those illusory thoughts vanished into thin air. That was all they were. Mere illusion. Fantasy.

She wondered: did he go back to sleep in their hut? Well, maybe it was now her hut if he didn't want to sleep there anymore. Or maybe it was his hut now, since she felt no more worthy of anything else after the night's events. The slammer would be her new bed for quite some time by the looks of it.

Or maybe Newt chose to sleep back in his own hammock, to forget about her. 

She was angry at herself for wanting to know where he was, since she never even saw him around when Gally brought her up to Alby. It was as though he completely stopped caring about her.

She knew all that speculation wasn't gonna lead her anywhere, but it was the only thing in which she could occupy her mind. At least to prevent insanity from clawing at her. Being aware that she had not a single right to be upset with Newt about anything, she felt even worse.

After minutes of curling up into a ball in the darkness, she even started to have selfish thoughts.

Maybe all the Gladers were the ones being selfish. They were judgmental when all she'd been trying to do was help them. How could they be so ungrateful? Rebecca promised to get everyone out of there, and she mentioned that Sara was key in the whole truce.

That was it. They should've just forgiven her for lying, because she was told to do so. And they could all work together to figure a way out of the Glade.

Her thoughts inevitably found their way back to Newt.

Sara had been there for him during the times he'd been at his worst. She'd helped him cope with pain, because she knew exactly what it felt like. She'd shown him how much she cared about him, and how much she loved him.

Has he forgotten that fast?

Above anything else, Sara had a heavier burden with her past than anyone in the Glade could even imagine. All because she kept her memories. Couldn't they just give her a break? Not even half of them would be able to stay sane if they were in the same situation.

Who was she kidding? This wasn't a kid's game where one competed to see who was the strongest—who could cope with the most pain. There were worse things out there that required everyone to leave their differences aside to collaborate and survive. To stay safe.

It didn't matter that Sara was trying to help. At the moment, no one trusted her, and it was completely understandable because she did lie to them. All she needed was to give everyone time and space. Especially Newt.

She only hoped that whenever they decided her intentions were trustworthy—if they ever did—that it wouldn't be too late to act. Their lives depended on it.

A faint red beam of light startled her. She was about to freak out until she realized it was a beetle blade. It remained still, as if observing the state in which she found herself, and somehow making fun of her. Of how much of a failure she was. After observing her for a few more seconds, it scurried past, and disappeared into the night.

Her hopeful side wanted to think it was just Rebecca overseeing her situation. Maybe she could help her get out of this.

❀❀❀

It must've been way past midnight by then. She didn't have anyone else's wristwatch to check the time just like she always did when she was with Newt.

She lay on the cold ground. Her body was perfectly still, except for the rising and falling of her chest. Sleep was far beyond her.

Sara didn't expect to hear anyone approaching, and she convinced herself that it was just her mind playing games on her. But she definitely heard footsteps. Through the holes of the cell door, she could see a figure approaching the entrance. The footsteps were uneven, and as he crouched down, the moonlight illuminated his blond hair.

"Newt!" she half whispered with surprise and sat up instantly.

He jumped back, probably just as startled as her. "I—I thought you were asleep," he said, clearing his throat right after.

"I can't sleep," Sara mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I couldn't sleep either," he replied. "I went back to the hut."

Her head perked up and she finally gazed up at him.

"You did?" Maybe he wasn't so upset anymore now that he had more time to cool off.

Scratching his head, he continued, "I thought maybe you would come back, and that I would move back to my hammock so we wouldn't make a scene."

Sara's head fell. "Oh."

Sensing the uncomfortable situation, Newt kept talking as if it could make it any better. "But then I knew something was up when you never showed up, so I went out. Everyone kept saying Gally took you to see Alby. That they'd put you here, and I just waited until I assumed you were asleep to come by and check on you."

Sara pursed her lips, extremely disappointed he didn't say a thing against her being hauled to the slammer. In his defense, he was hurt, and there was no way she looked innocent in anyone's eyes.

"Well, at least you won't have to do that anymore," Sara told him in the kindest way possible, meaning every word. "You can thank Gally for making the scene you wanted to avoid."

Silence filled the space between them; space now split by the cell door.

"I'm sorry things turned out like this, but there's nothing I can do," he said sadly. "You have to understand."

She just wished he'd stop saying things like that; it only made her feel worse. "Yeah, I know. I don't think you're remotely as sorry as I am."

Newt let out a frustrated sigh. "It's just too much, Sara. Way too much. There shouldn't be any secrets between us."

"I know, I'm so sorry," she said, but determined to seek his forgiveness, she pleaded, "we can start fresh, though. Newt, all I wanted was to protect you—"

"Protect me from what?" he raised his voice, frowning at her. "There isn't anything worse to discover than being stuck here and realizing that the person you loved the most in the world has been lying to you since you met."

Sara didn't know whether to interpret that as if he didn't love her anymore, or he was just too hurt to ever forgive her. Either way, his words broke something within her. 

It was ironic how he claimed she lied since they met, but that day in the Maze wasn't their first time. When they actually met and eased up to each other, they would tell each other everything, up until Newt was gone.

"Yeah, there's worse." Her voice was barely audible, not intended for him to hear.

"Oh, like you having a wonderful life with the creators, treated like a bloody princess while we were stuck in here?" he spat the words out harshly.

Sara angrily gripped the bars of the prison. "Don't you dare assume what my life was like back there. Everything I've had to deal with since I was thirteen is a nightmare. I had to deal with my own pain while I learned what all of you were going through. I just wanted to fix things. You know nothing, Newt!" she muttered, extremely offended.

She didn't mean to blow up like that, but his words reminded her of a conversation they had back when they were thirteen. 

You're practically living like a bloody princess, were his exact words back then.

He first said them back when he gave her a chance to show him who she was, and he helped her try and earn the trust of his friends.

Now, she was hearing those same words, but so full of spite, and no hint of trust behind them.

Where was that Newt who would always believe in her? Where was the Newt that believed her promises, and the one who said he'd trust her? What about the Newt that told her, barely the night before, that everything would always work out in the end?

That Newt was nowhere to be found. Sara had hoped the memory wipe wouldn't change that aspect of him. Maybe she was wrong.

"I'm done talking," he said, full of resolve. "We have a whole Gathering tomorrow for that."

Her outburst had taken him by surprise, but he was far too upset to even ask her to help him understand. Sara wanted to scream due to how frustrated she felt. Things were not supposed to end like that. What was she gonna do now?

Nothing, apparently. She couldn't.

"Fine," her voice quivered, but she refused to let herself cry in front of him again.

"Goodnight, Sara," he mumbled, and immediately stood up to leave before she could even say a thing.

His words were so painful to hear. That last 'goodnight' sounded like a 'goodbye' more than anything.

She still replied, although her words full of sadness, got lost in the air of the rusty pit for no one else to hear, except herself.

"Goodnight."

–––––––––––––––

~A/N:

I'm so sorry 😭

But...

It won't always be like this, I promise.