Note:  I want to thank everyone so far for reading! I know it took quite a bit of time for me to gain traction on this book, but I have a lot of great plans for it, and I always enjoy comments and feedback, and voting if you feel up to it. Feel free to let me know your ideas and thoughts as you read, and enjoy~

Chapter 8

229.02.10 / 10:45 p.m.

By the time you slipped back to your dorm, most of the lights were out and the girl's breathing had slowed, some slipping into quiet snores. You ducked past the grate Thomas held open as quietly as you could and then reached back to help him set it back into place.

"That was one hell of a show," Thomas whispered with one last grin before he disappeared. You rolled your eyes, face still burning, and slid the vent between you. You heard his footsteps retreat and tiptoed as carefully as you could back to your bed, glancing around nervously like any of the girls could wake up at any moment. You'd reached your bunk and climbed soundlessly to the top, getting ready to settle down for the night when-

"Hey!" a harsh whisper came from the bunk below you. "(Y/N)!"

You leaned down to see Harriet sitting up on her mattress, glaring suspiciously up at you. "Lovely of you to finally join us."

You put a finger to your lips and shook your head frantically. "Be quiet Harriet!" you hissed. "Listen, I'll explain in the morning. I don't wanna wake anyone up."

Unsatisfied with this answer, Harriet scooted closer to you, looking bristled. "You look like you've just seen a ghost," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Why is your face so red? You know better than anyone here that you're not supposed to leave after lights out. A guard came by to check on us, and we had to cover for you!"

You groaned and lay back in your bed. "I'm sorry," you said softly, not even sure if she'd heard you. Either Harriet had or she'd just given up because the room fell silent again and you felt yourself drift into eventual darkness, your head buzzing pleasantly, thinking back to the night's events.

229.02.23 / 9:12 a.m.

The next few days were abuzz with gossip about you and Newt. You couldn't wrap your head around why that was the thing everyone wanted to talk about, but you figured with days consisting of boring classes and blood tests it was the most excitement anybody had gotten in years.

You hadn't gotten a chance to see Newt since that night, working in the wee hours of the morning to long after everyone had gone to bed, so that day at breakfast would be the first, and you were dreading it.

As you'd been dressing, Sonya had sent you a knowing smile, and for a second you'd forgotten she was Newt's sister -- she probably already knew every detail of what had happened. For such a secure place, news sure did travel fast at WICKED; you just prayed that Paige hadn't found out, and hopefully never would.

You walked to the breakfast table with your head down and didn't look up until you slid down beside Newt, who looked slightly surprised to see you. The other boys were chattering quietly amongst themselves and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Newt smiled. God, even that smile drove you crazy. You wondered if you could get away with dragging Newt to the nearest corner without anyone noticing. Wishful thinking, you supposed.

"(Y/N)!" Minho exclaimed, catching sight of you. "You've finally decided to bless us with your presence!"

You shook your head and grinned. Maybe everyone had already forgotten about your kiss with Newt. "I've been working insane hours," you told him. "It's like WICKED knows they're months behind insertion or something."

Minho laughed. "Yeah, they've been running me into the ground every day this week. All of us actually. Building that shuck box that'll be hauling our poor asses up on Judgement Day."

Everyone chuckled at this and you were beginning to feel a little more at ease. You even let Newt reach under the table and squeeze your hand.

Then little Chuck piped up.

"Hey, (Y/N), is it true you threw Newt up against a wall and made out with him?"

You choked on your water and yanked your hand from Newt's instantaneously. Minho broke down laughing, and Newt barely had time for the shock to register on his face before it went tomato red. Chuck just had a sort of disgusted look on his face. "What?" he asked, glancing around, obviously confused.

You were so busy mopping up the water you'd spewed down your front, Minho got to the kid before you got a chance.

"That she did, kiddo," he said matter-of-factly. "I saw it with my own two eyes."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"She was like some kind of animal," Thomas called from the far end of the table.

You never thought you'd ever hate someone more than Rat Man than you did in that instant.

"Not true!" you stuttered, regaining your composure. Even Newt raised an eyebrow at this.

"Are you sure? Because I've got a bloody massive bruise on my lip that says otherwise."

You sat back and pictured the floor opening up and swallowing you whole.

"We should thank you, though," Minho said. "We'd never seen anything like it. Best action we've got around here in ages."

Newt grabbed your hand again, more firmly this time, and raised his cup.

"I'll bloody drink to that."

They each took a sip and you glanced between the two of them, smiling despite of yourself.

"Honestly, you guys are children."

"Just be glad ol' Chucky here wasn't in the room, (Y/N)," Minho said after he'd downed his cup. "That was definitely some PG-13-"

"Oh, shut up!" you snapped, smacking him in the shoulder. "At least leave a little bit of the respect he still has for me."

"And she didn't throw me," Newt interjected. "That makes me sound like some sort of buggin' doll or something."

You shrugged. "You kinda were."

Minho laughed loudly. "Dude, you were so speechless, she could have thrown you off a cliff to a bunch of hungry Cranks and you would've gone with a wave and a dreamy smile on that shuck face of yours."

Now it was Newt's turn to redden and you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand.

"It was cute," you assured him.

"We're not surprised anyway," Minho continued. "It's been a long time coming. You guys just better savor it while you can because in a few months we'll all be WICKED's lab rats, and teen romance will be the last thing on any of our minds."

The words rang true, and the whole table nodded their silent agreement. Newt's lips were pressed together into a firm line as if he could already see that day playing out in front of him. You grabbed his hand in both of yours and pulled him back to reality.

"Well, it hasn't happened yet," you told him with a weak smile. "WICKED's behind, they're not ready. We shouldn't waste time worrying about it before it happens."

"Don't let Rat Man find out, though," Thomas said, scooting closer. "They'll go crazy with all the Variable possibilities that could arise from something like this. And knowing him, he'll enjoy it way too much."

"I'll break his bloody rat nose before that happens," Newt growled, taking an angry bite of food.

"Let's just focus on finishing our work," you said finally. "There'll be no point to any of this if the entire world is consumed by cannibalistic zombies first."

229.02.30 / 11:18 p.m.

The weeks progressed as normal, school, work, late night programming, except now you had Newt.

He'd meet you in little corridors in the evenings, in bathrooms, if you passed each other in an empty hall he'd tug you aside and press you against a wall to sneak a kiss.

It was never a thing you'd thought about much, kissing. But it tended to lift your mood almost instantly, a flood of hormones and chemicals that could turn almost any bad day upside down.

And when he got off work early and you were stuck programming by yourself, he'd rush up to keep you company, which was usually more distracting than helpful. You'd sit at your computer and type frantically, peering down at the maze every couple minutes, or sometimes maneuvering a beetle blade into harder to reach places. He'd sit and stare at you, so long most often you'd feel the back of your neck going hot.

"What?" you grumbled that night, sipping a coffee a guard had brought you hours earlier, which had long gone cold.

"You're so bloody cute when you're concentrating," he said matter-of-factly.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, you're cuter when you're actually doing something useful, like telling me when those walls over there decide to move."

He got out of his seat and stood where you'd pointed without complaint, long legs crossed comfortably out in front of him.

You tried so hard not to picture him down in those walls alone. Being taken away and inserted while you stood idly by and watched. It hurt you to the bone, but you knew if you'd told him he'd probably refuse to go altogether, and then he'd be knocked out or sedated and thrown in anyway and you'd be in a world of hurt.

You pushed the thoughts from your mind and continued your work, still heavily aware of Newt only a few feet away.

"If this were a different life," he said after a while. "We'd have nothing to worry about. Do you think I'd get to meet your father?"

You snorted. "No shit, Sherlock. He'd probably have your head, though."

"I think I'd be pretty low on his kill list," Newt said. "With all the buggin' crap WICKED's pulled, he'd probably go crazy if he knew."

"Do you think he does?" you asked quietly, feeling a little jolt at the idea. He did still work for WICKED, right?

"No, no bloody way. He wouldn't do that to you, (Y/N). You're his own flesh and blood."

"How many other people do you think probably sold their family members to WICKED?" You sighed. "Probably enough for it not to be so crazy."

"I just hate what they've done." Newt clenched his fists to his sides.

"Just remember what it's all for," you reminded him, stretching back in your seat. "Whatever lives are messed up here, though it sucks, we're saving millions and millions of lives in the long run." You hated that you were using the same speech WICKED had used on you so many times before.

You grabbed the screen from beetle blade number twenty-two and threw it onto the computer facing you. It stood under the towering maze wall you were programming. Soon enough, you knew this would be your only window to your friends down in the maze, and another pang of sadness welled up in your chest.

Newt noticed this and walked back over to you, covering the distance easily in only a couple steps. He sat down behind you and wrapped his arms around your chair and rested his chin on your head. You worked the last few hours like this, somehow feeling much more at ease with him beside you, but the ache you felt at knowing that would go away stayed in the corner of your mind like an unscratchable itch.