Minho through himself into work. While the Builders began to attempt to barricade the Doors, he carried boxes of weapons to the Homestead in preparation for the inevitable arrival of the Grievers that night. He made Pasty tag along and she did her best to help, but her hands were shaking so much, she kept dropping the boxes she carried. He tried to remain calm and collected, but eventually he snapped at Thomas, who spent ten or so minutes trailing after him like an eager puppy.

 “Maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on him. He’s your friend, right? And he’s scared,” Pasty whispered. Minho balled his fists up.

 “God, you never used to be this timid. Just back off, Pasty. I’m busy, I don’t have the time for this klunk. I’m scared, and I’m tired, leave it.”

 “Yeah, alright. So your allowed to be scared, but I’m not allowed to be, as you put it, timid? Because I don’t have any reason to be timid, do I? Thrown in a bloody maze with a load of strangers? Don’t you think I’m just as scared as you? If not more?”

 Minho sighed helplessly, wiping his brow “Pasty-”

 “I don’t want to hear it,” Pasty said, crossing her arms. With that, she whipped her hair over her shoulder and stormed towards the Doors. Minho was about to chase her down, thinking she was heading into the Maze, but she just gathered some wood and began helping the Builders. And besides, he reasoned with himself, the Glade ain’t so safe these days either. Would it matter if she did run out there?

 Of course it would matter! She’d get herself killed! But part of her seemed to have died since she disappeared anyway. And not only that, but her love for Minho. He watched her go, his chest aching. He’d changed too, so quickly. He couldn’t seem to talk to her anymore. Maybe it was the pent up frustration; having her back, for her to remain absent to him. He hadn’t expected love at first sight, but he didn’t anticipate the coldness that had settled between them. He always thought the day Pasty came back to him would be the happiest of his life. Now he wasn’t so sure.

 He carried on with his work regardless. He, Newt, Thomas and Alby had a meeting to discuss what staying in the Maze overnight, but when Alby stormed out into the night, Minho was left feeling even more frustrated. So while the other Gladers settled down to sleep, he sought out Pasty. Even though things weren’t the same, and maybe never would be, he knew she was the only one he wanted to be with if it was his last night on earth.

 He found her in one of the upstairs rooms in the Homestead, lodged in between some boys she’d never really spoken to. Of course, everyone was a stranger to her, but she looked particularly wary of them. She had a torch and a knife by her side, but she still looked terrified. She still managed to muster a glare at Minho when she saw him, though, which for some reason made him smile. Without asking permission, he dumped his sleeping bag next to her, the other boys shifting up to make room for him. Pasty turned on her side to avoid speaking to Minho, so he didn’t have to hide the hurt in his eyes.

 “I’m sorry, Pasty. For snapping at you. I ain’t normally like that. I was being a mean old piece of klunk.”

 Pasty didn’t reply for a while, before croaking “That’s OK.”

 Minho shifted a little closer “Are you crying?”

 “No,” Pasty lied.

 “It’s okay. I know you don’t remember but…I cried my first day here. You’re being much braver than me.”

 Pasty sniffed and finally turned to face him. “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 Pasty sniffed and picked up her knife, twirling it around her fingers “This…this won’t help, will it? Newt told me about the Grievers.”

 Minho sighed “In all honesty? I don’t know. Probably not. Too short range. You’d never get close enough.”

 “Then why are we here? Waiting for them? Why aren’t we out there, finding a way out?”

 “Pasty, there is no way out.”

 “So you say. So how did I get out?”

 Minho was surprised by the question, and he puffed out air from his nose “Good question.”

 Pasty leant on her elbow, her dark hair falling in waves around her face “I have so many questions, Minho, and not enough time to have them answered. But…there’s something else that’s scaring me. I…before, when I was at the Doors…I had…a moment.”

 “A moment?”

 “It was like a…hallucination. A really strong memory. I assume it was a memory. You…you were in it.”

 Minho leaned closer, excited “You remembered something?”

 “I don’t know. Maybe? I…I think we were in the Maze. And…and we were scared. It was dark.”

 “What did we say?”

 “You said you left someone behind. You were upset. And I kept telling you that you needed to think straight. That we…that we had to do what we do best.”

 “Run,” Minho whispered “You told me to run.”

 “Yes! That’s right! So…it’s real?”

 “It’s real. You said…you said something about a Malfunction. To Alby. I think…I think maybe there’s something special about you, Pasty. You used to have…gifts. Maybe whoever put us here…maybe they can’t control you.”

 Pasty blinked “This…it’s a lot to take in.”

 Minho cursed himself for dumping so much on her at once. But at least they were getting somewhere “Don’t worry, Pasty. We just need to get through tonight. Then I can explain everything to you. Help you remember.”

 “You think I can get all of my memories back?”

 “I hope so. I don’t think I can cope if you don’t.”

 Pasty shifted awkwardly “I want to remember you. I hate you feeling like a stranger.”

 I know that feeling.

 “And I hate…I hate feeling scared. I feel hopeless. I don’t feel myself. What if they get in here? Minho? They’ll kill us, those things.”

 Minho longed to touch her face, to kiss her and share some of her load. But he knew he couldn’t. So he patted her arm awkwardly “I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you die. And you can take care of yourself. You’re a fighter.”

 “That may be… but Minho, these creatures are ten times our size. They’re dangerous. We only have knives to protect ourselves.”

 “You’re forgetting your best defence.”

 “And what’s that?”

 Minho smiled “You can run. If you run, and you don’t stop, you’ll be OK. I know this Maze. I can find my way back if we need to. I’ll get us somewhere safer. But if it comes to it, we’re just gonna have to leg it. We can’t be heroes and help people. It’ll get us killed too.”

 Pasty nodded “I can do that.”

 It’s easier for you. You don’t know how much these people mean to you. Leaving them behind would once have killed you.

 “Get some sleep, Pasty. I can keep look out if it makes you feel better.”

 Pasty allowed him a small smile “Thank you…Minho.”

 He nodded, leaning his back against the wall. Pasty settled into her sleeping bag, but didn’t close her eyes for a long time. She chewed at her lip until it bled. Minho watched her for a long time, and in the end, though a little tentatively, he placed his hand on her head gently. It was like an off switch. Pasty’s body relaxed and her eyes shut. Minho’s hand rested for a while, before gently stroking the length of her hair. Then he moved his hand back and continued to caress her hair. Only when he was certain she was asleep did he kiss his hand and press it to her pale forehead.

 A few hours passed. Minho allowed his body to relax a little, slumped next to Pasty wearily. But then everything changed.

 First came the mechanical clicking of a Griever. Then, it was shortly followed by Pasty’s piercing screams.