It felt as if a thousand little bugs were scuttling through your skull; not painful, just uncomfortable, and loud. You tried to bring up a hand to push against your temple -- but found you couldn't. Your arms remained stiff at your sides, stubborn and unmoving. Same with your legs, and the rest of your limbs. The inky darkness that surrounded you pressed in, suffocating.

Stifling a sob, you wriggled and writhed -- well, tried to. No matter how hard you willed yourself to move, your body contradicted the order as if it had a mind of its own.

"(Y/N)!" A gravely voice echoed around your head, scaring you out of your wits. "Very soon now... very soon." Attempting a response was probably the dumbest thing you'd ever tried to do; your jaw stayed clenched, so you stayed silent.

"Yes," it hissed. "Very soon, best prepare yourself... and your friends." Then, it was gone.

You weren't exactly sure how you knew when whoever had spoken disappeared exactly... You just did. Like someone was hovering over you -- you could feel their body heat, and sense their presence -- and then they vanished.

"(Y/N), I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry," the scratchy voice choked out, but it was fading, molding into a new voice, one with a strange accent that it didn't use to have.

A curtain of light stretched behind your eyelids, illuminating them, turning a muddied orange color. You flinched, and relief flooded through you, seeming to give you strength. You could move again!

"Wait, I think I saw her move!" someone shouted. You wasted no time in opening your eyes, gladly welcoming the bright light that illuminated the room.

The first thing you felt was the soft mattress of the bed you lay on, and the rough hand that grasped yours. Newt's face appeared above you in an instant.

"(Y/N), bloody-" but he didn't even finish, just pulled you into his chest in a tight hug. "I thought, I thought," he stuttered, unable to continue. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm fine," you croaked. Tears welled up, blurring your vision, before spilling over and down your cheeks. Newt's neck and shirt grew wet quickly, but he didn't pull away, and neither did you.

"Oi, Newt, we need to talk to her!" a boy said, tapping his shoulder. Your friend reluctantly pulled away, shooting you an apologetic look as he did so.

"What did you-" he started but stopped as you let out a strained cry of pain. The pulsing, shuddering wave washed over you suddenly, and you crumpled to the floor, squirming in agony.

You swear you'd never been in so much pain.

"N-Newt," you sputtered, wincing at the effort it took to utter the single syllable. Black spots swam at the edges of your vision, though, through them, you could still make out Newt's terrified expression.

Another spasm sent your arms flying, and the older boy barely had time to jump aside before you smacked him in the face. You let out a pained gasp as your bony wrists made contact with the hard floor.

"Newt!" You screamed when he didn't reappear after you'd settled down again.

"I'm here," his voice sounded, choked with stifled sobs. "I'm here, focus on me, (Y/N), look at me." You smiled the slightest bit as you saw him lean over you again. He braced your neck with one hand, lifting your head delicately off the grass, and squeezed your hand reassuringly with the other.

Newt's face was tear-stained, smeared with dirt, and his hair was sticking up in all directions -- but to you, in that moment, he was the most beautiful person in the world.

He'd been your friend since day one. He'd supported you, and graciously forgiven you (for the most part), even after the whole Maze incident.

"Please don't be sad," you croaked. You hated seeing him like this -- where was the strong Newt; the calm one? He was the one who'd kept you sane through this entire ordeal.

He was the one that held everyone together -- kept everyone from... falling apart.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, obviously struggling to speak through shallow breaths. "Look at me... you'll... be okay, (Y/N)." The strain it took to chuckle almost caused you to lose consciousness.

"We both know that's not true Newt. I'm not an idio--" you were cut off as a fresh wave of pain washed over you, and you had to stifle a scream. "You guys keep going," you forced out when it had subsided. "Get out. Whatever happens, you have to get out of here..."

Those were the last words you remember speaking aloud, despite some gibberish you might or might not have been spewing as you let the darkness consume you. You let out one last, shuddering breath, then your eyes became unfocused and you felt your eyelids droop slightly. The surrounding noise dulled to a low hum like you'd just been dunked under water, though Newt's sobs were still loud enough to make out through it all.

Your body became numb, and you knew no more.

~~~

"Are we sure this won't affect any of the Variables?"

"I'm positive. If anything, she was just another Variable we didn't account for. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Are we gonna... you know..."

"Sure, it couldn't hurt. It was never meant for her anyway."

"Yeah, but... isn't it going to hurt?"

"Oh yeah, it's gonna hurt, but that's not my problem."

The voices sounded male, one younger, and the other one older, wiser. As you regained consciousness, you felt the pounding behind your eyes, the tingly numbness that had engulfed your limbs, which was beginning to fade, and the faint feel of light cotton that covered your body. Cold air danced across your bare arms, goosebumps springing up in its wake, and you shivered. "We should get her back to her room," the older man spoke, and you heard footsteps echo on tile, then a loud hissing sound. The men muttered under their breaths, too quiet for you to make out, and next thing you knew, you were drifting off into a deep sleep.

Three days. Three days you'd been in there, all alone. It was enough to drive someone insane, except you were smart, and had ways of dealing with the boredom. You'd asked them, WICKED, why they kept you cooped up in there for so long. They said they were waiting. That's all they would ever say. Waiting.

You'd asked Janson once -- your only visitor -- what they were waiting for exactly. He just smiled and shook his head. Just another of the many secrets they kept, locked up in the dozens of rooms that made up what you assumed was their headquarters.

Now, you sat at the small table in your room, munching on an apple Janson had delivered to you as part of your lunch. He stood by the door, absentmindedly tapping his foot on the ground. You took another bite.

"So, Janson," you started, breaking the silence, "how much longer are you going to keep me in here?" You would have expected him to continue staring at the same seemingly uninteresting part of the wall he'd been looking at to avoid eye contact with you, but he actually turned to meet your curious gaze.

"Why so eager to leave?" he asked in his gruff, unkind voice. You'd bet your freedom if a kid saw him, they'd run away crying. Janson's long, claw-like fingers were curled around the doorframe, his eyebrows softly raised, his entire body seemingly caught in a perpetual shrug.

You glared at him. "Oh gee, I don't know, maybe I don't want to be a prisoner for the rest of my life?" You bit through the center of your apple with a loud crunch, slurping the juice that was running down your fingers as noisily as you could, then finished by smacking your lips.

"Actually," Janson mumbled under your unruly eating, "Once you're done there, you'll need to come with me." This silenced you instantly, which was obviously the reaction Janson was looking for, because the corner of his thin, chapped mouth curled into a smirk, one that made your blood boil.

"What for?" You tried to sound careless, but utterly failed, He knew he had your attention, and now that he did, he wasn't about to let it go so easily.

"Oh, we just need to run a couple... tests, nothing major," Janson said it nonchalantly, brushing it off like he'd just proposed a nice trip to the park, and not to some crazy scientists who would be poking around in your brain with pointy tools. You'd seen it happen firsthand to a man on your first day, and didn't in any way wish to be in his position, even for a second.

Janson walked over to where you were sitting and set a bony hand on your shoulder. An unpleasant shiver washed over you, and you quickly stumbled to your feet, pushing him away as you did so. "You don't need me to call the guards again... do you?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous. Your stomach did a summersault. The last time he'd called the guard, you'd been electrocuted or tasered, or whatever their big black guns did; you didn't want to experience it ever again.

"Fine," you muttered, deciding you had no other choice but to follow him from the room, and bracing yourself for the worst.