~Rebecca~

That night, as the very last one of the Gladers fell asleep, Rebecca got to work.

She had no other resort than to implant evidence in their minds as they slept, something she hoped would certainly work in Sara's favor.

Memories. Old moments in their long-forgotten past life. Anything that would help them understand Sara's purpose—that she wasn't who they feared she was.

After minutes of searching for a specific episode in each of their stored memory files, she was ready to release the snippets of memories back into their brains.

Right as she gained momentum to press the button, her eyes fell upon Camera Twenty-five. The image on the monitors displayed a sleeping Newt. He was lying on the grass next to a tree, in the deadheads, far away from the others.

An idea surged in her mind. It was a risky procedure, but she felt it was the right thing to do.

She exclusively selected files from Newt's stored memories and began surveying through them. She selected them, and meticulously focused on releasing them into his brain, prioritizing his over those of the rest of the Gladers.

When she finished with Newt, she quickly began releasing the previously selected memories of the others into their brains too.

"What are you doing?" a voice called from behind.

She quickly whipped around to see one of the doctors standing in the entrance to the monitoring lab.

"J—just watching some of the kids. I grew very fond of them," the woman answered, trying to keep her cool.

The doctor took a step forward. "As far as I know, you're not supposed to be in here. What were you actually doing?"

Rebecca glared at her. "Dr. Lynne," she chuckled, "are you spying on me now?" She pulled out a gun from her coat pocket and pointed it at the doctor who caught her in the act.

"Nice work cutting the security system. And yes, I followed you here," Lynne sneered as she raised her hands in defense. With that, she quickly brought her wrist to her mouth to speak into a communicator device in her watch. "Security—"

"Hand it over or I'll shoot!" Rebecca threatened. "On the floor. Now!" she shouted, motioning with her gun. Lynne complied, kneeling down. Rebecca ran toward her, and forcefully snatched the device from Lynne's wrist.

Still pointing the gun at her, Rebecca went back to the monitor, searched up the history of activity, and she began deleting any evidence of what she'd previously done. Newt's procedure had been completed, but it had to be cut short for the others as she heard the rapidly approaching footsteps.

Guards are coming, she panicked.

Rebecca scrambled to the floor, next to Lynne, who was kneeling down and backing away from the gun pointed at her. Rebecca suddenly pressed the gun to her own arm and shot herself, being wary of her aim so as to avoid damaging a nerve.

She let out a horrible scream of agony, but then she quickly swept her leg over and raised it to kick Lynne on the side of the forehead. The doctor doubled over in pain, grabbing the side of her head in her hands.

Rebecca threw the gun, so it landed right next to Lynne. As soon as the gun reached her, Lynne snatched it and was ready to shoot at Rebecca.

That's when the guards threw the door open.

They saw a bleeding Rebecca, who was holding her arm, about to be shot by the doctor who was bleeding at the side of the head.

Lightheaded from blood loss, Rebecca gave the guards a relieved expression. "Finally. I thought you'd never come."

"No, I didn't—" argued Dr. Lynne as she dropped the gun, but the guard shot her with his launcher, causing her to sprawl on the ground with spastic electricity coursing through her body.

Several other doctors came in, and they tended to Rebecca's injury. Janson then appeared behind the crowd of doctors.

As he was informed of the situation, he rushed over to Rebecca, lifting her chin up so she would look at him. Once he took a good look at her arm, he suddenly rushed over to reach the gun on the floor and sent a current of bullets through the agonizing Dr. Lynne's skull.

Tears silently streamed down Rebecca's cheeks as she looked away from the scene.

It was my fault. Someone died because of me, she tortured herself. The bitterness of it all made her question just how far she was willing to go for the girl she cared about. Rebecca was absolutely disgusted with herself.

~Newt~

Newt's subconscious led him through various instances of his childhood, most of them in some building he found strangely familiar.

His thirteen-year-old self snuck out of his own room around midnight, making his way down the hallway until he came across her room. The door was always closed, but he never seemed to mind so much. Several nights in a row, he would sit on the floor, right across from the girl's door, and he wondered about the many mysteries that surrounded her.

He remembered the first time he saw her. She was so pretty. She had looked over at him, and he was so taken aback that he didn't know how else to react, so he frowned at her—probably not the best way to try to get to know her.

The scene switched to a different time, and he watched himself, even more nervous than before. He was hesitating whether or not to go right up to the door and just knock already. They'd already talked once, but it wasn't during the best moment. They had to sneak past guards and doctors to talk, and their conversation wasn't very friendly at first.

"Newt?" He nervously flinched at the sound of his name and turned around. He was relieved to see it was a green-eyed woman.

"Rebecca, hi," he said, exhaling in relief.

"What are you doing out here, sweetie? It's past midnight," said Rebecca with concern before she looked over at the girl's door and smiled knowingly.

Newt bowed his head and his cheeks turned pink. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I just—"

"Hey, don't worry," Rebecca reassured him. "She's actually awake," she added, smiling kindly at him. "If you want, I can let you in and see her. I have to be there too, though, keeping watch so no one else sees you."

Newt didn't know how else to express his excitement. He nodded quickly, and impatiently waited right outside the door as Rebecca notified the girl about the curious boy waiting to see her.

They both opened the door and bid for him to enter.

"Newt," said the girl, smiling brightly. "What are you doing here?"

The boy stammered. "I—I came here to apologize. Sorry for how I treated you."

The girl raised an eyebrow and looked at the clock on the wall. "This late?" When she saw the embarrassment in his eyes, she just smiled. "It's okay," she whispered. "I don't blame you. I'm ashamed to be his niece, you know?"

"You deserve better than that," he said, averting his eyes, and his hands fidgeted in his pockets.

Sara's eyes softened. "So do you. And your sister. All of us do. That's why we've gotta get busy to figure out what WICKED's hiding."

Newt glanced back up at her, tears stinging his eyes.

His sister. The subject always made his heart break.

"I'm the worst brother ever," he muttered, feeling ashamed of himself.

Sara reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Hey, I'm sure Sonya would understand if you talked to her. She just doesn't understand why you're ignoring her."

Sonya. That wasn't her name. Why did WICKED always do that? He couldn't even remember his own name, but hers, it was impossible to forget.

"Lizzy," he whispered the name with such heartfelt emotion.

Sara furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"Her real name," he explained. "I promised mum I'd take care of my sister in case anything happened to her. I failed. I failed mum, and I failed Lizzy. I just can't live with myself after what happened to my parents. And I feel like I would only end up hurting Lizzy. I need time to face her again." Newt was so distraught, and he felt bad for bringing his problems for Sara to have to listen to them.

At that point, they were both crying. The girl reached out and wrapped her arms around Newt. His heart fluttered at the sudden contact, and he gladly returned the gesture.

"I know how it feels," she whispered as they kept embracing each other. "Losing our parents like that shouldn't ever be a part of our lives—any kid's life."

They pulled apart briefly.

"Yah," said Newt.

"But your sister needs you," the girl continued. "We've gotta get out of this place somehow. I promise I'll do whatever I can—even force myself to do the impossible—to get us out, okay? Stay strong, Newt."

Tears continued to pour down their eyes, and they hugged even tighter.

"Thank you, Sara," he whispered.

❀❀❀

Newt woke up with a start. 

He surveyed his surroundings only to realize that he fell asleep in the deadheads after crying his heart away.

His cheeks were moistened, as if he were also crying in his sleep.

The dreams.

What in the lovin' shuck was that?

As the events rushed back to his mind, an overwhelming wave of panic and absolute bewilderment swept over him. His breathing accelerated, and the air seemed to be suctioned out from the atmosphere. He gasped for air, but his lungs felt like they were crumpling and tightening up against his chest.

"Newt!" Minho came rushing to him. "C'mon, man—are you okay? Newt! Breathe!"

"I—I can't—" he gasped.

"Here, look at me." Minho grabbed his shoulders. "I want you to focus only on me, okay?" The blond boy nodded rapidly, still struggling to breathe. "Describe what I'm doing with my face. Anything you see me doing, alright?"

Minho took a deep breath, exaggerating the intake of air.

"You—you're breathing in," said Newt, in between pants.

Minho exhaled. "Okay, now what?" He repeated the breathing exercise once again.

"You exhaled. You're doing—you're doing it again. Your nostrils tightened," said Newt, continuing to look at Minho with fear in his eyes.

Minho breathed out. "Now, I need you to try it with me. Look at me. I want you to do exactly what I'm doing."

Newt took in a shaky breath.

Minho's voice kept its steadiness, however. "Imagine your lungs physically filling up with air, like bags that you blow into."

The frightened boy nodded. "Okay."

"You got it? Let's go."

They both did it together, and Newt took a huge gulp of air, finally replenishing his lungs with oxygen.

"Are you okay?" Minho finally asked, his eyes full of concern.

Newt nodded, his nerves reducing quickly. "Yah. Thank you—thank you, Minho."

Minho wrapped his arms around his friend, patting his back with reassurance. "You're okay, buddy. I got you. You had some bad dreams, huh?" he muttered as he pulled away.

"Not really. It's like I remembered things from my past." It was an unsettling feeling; Newt couldn't believe what he saw.

Minho nodded. "Me too. I started to dream—or have memories; I don't know, but I didn't get to see much. It got cut short."

Newt blinked back at him. "How did you know I was here?"

The Runner shrugged. "Well, I couldn't sleep after the memory thing. And Thomas was still awake. He actually came looking for me telling me you'd ran off to the deadheads after talking to him. We both came to see you but you were asleep, so I told Thomas I'd watch out for you so he could go back."

"I hate that you guys had to see that," Newt mumbled, averting his eyes.

"Only I saw it. And it's okay. I tried to sleep nearby in case—you know—you had one of those panic attacks from before... which you did," said Minho, feeling bad for Newt.

Even before Newt's fall, Minho had a lot of practice helping him out and was now an expert.

Then Minho was pensive for a minute. "We need to bring this up in the next Gathering. Whatever we saw in the dreams, it could be important."

"Yah, maybe it can help us turn down the banishment," Newt suggested.

"Are you gonna tell her?" Newt only stared back at Minho in response. "About the panic attack? I can get Alby to let her out for a moment right now. It'd be good for you—"

"No!" He grasped Minho's shoulders tightly. "I don't want to worry her, and... I kind of deserve it. She was right, I think."

Minho sighed. "Dude, you don't even want her to keep things from you, so don't go and do that to her. If you want me to keep my mouth shut, you better talk to her at some point and forgive her," he said, pointing a warning finger at Newt.

Silence filled the air before Newt spoke up. "Minho, I'm sorry."

"For?"

Newt shook his head sadly. "Everything. I blamed you for things I can only blame myself for. And you're always there whenever we need you."

Minho half-smiled. "Forget about it, man. It's better talking things out, you see?"

Minho helped his friend to his feet, and they both made their way back to the open of the Glade. They walked quietly over to their hammocks, careful not to wake anyone up.