"Time for things to get hard? He's kidding right?" Minho says, standing in a circle with the surviving members of the glader council. "I mean, what does he think it's been so far? Easy?" We had gathered in the unused dorm room, attempting to make some what of a plan. Or at least pretend that we were.

"Ya and what did he mean with the bit about, 'they call you munies, and the really, really hate you' and all that klunk?" Winston asks. Ah, yes, Ratman's last words to us. After his formal goodbye, he'd added two things: that everyone hates us, and a deadline, ten days. Then, Ratman had vanished, taking his mysterious decorations with him and leaving us no further instructions on what to do. All we know is this: go through the flat trans, make it to the safe haven, get the cure. Oh, and not to mention we only have ten days to find it. In the middle of a desert. With no directions. When everyone hates us. We spent two years solving the maze, now we have ten days? Greaaaat.

"I don't know, but we need to get this figured out." Newt sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Frypan is already rationing the food, but we need to plan some other things."

"How can we? We have zero idea of what we're up against." I comment, shaking my head.

"We should at least have a clear knowledge of whose in charge." Newt says, sitting down on one of the beds behind him. He leans back, resting against the bed frame, all of the stress of the last two days showing as he closes his eyes.

"Easy, you are." Minho says, seemingly without a second thought.

"Are you sure?" Newt asks, "even with the tattoo?"

"Newt don't be ridiculous, I don't trust anything WICKED says we all kno–"

"You know what?" Newt says, interrupting Minho's sentence. "Everyone out but Minho."
We give him curious looks, but leave, waiting in the common room for the decision. Frypan is already busy proportioning out food, separating it into piles and yelling at anyone who tries to take any. I smile a little at Frypan's extreme obsession with food. It wouldn't surprise me if he named his food before he ate it.

"You ok?" I ask Mal, when I notice her slumped against the wall by herself.

"Yeah, I'm just worried." She answers, keeping her eyes on the floor. I sit down next to her, the cold from the concrete seeping through my shirt.

"We all are, I'd think you were crazy if you weren't." I answer, wincing when I say the word crazy. I shudder at the thought of turning into one of those cranks.

"Well, I'm worried about that too, but that's not exactly what I meant." She says, her gaze wandering from the floor to the rest of the room.

I look sideways at her, "then what did you mean?"

"It's just... I'm worried about Newt, he seems so stressed out."

"don't worry, Newt's tougher than all of us, he'll be ok." I smile at her reassuringly, though it's obvious to anyone with eyes that Newt is beyond stressed out. "You gotta remember, he did this for two years in the glade before you even showed up."

"Ya, I guess you're right." She replies, returning my smile. "Hey, I never got to ask you, what does your tattoo say?"

"Subject A3, the compass and the incentive." I recite, my voice flat and robotic. "What about you?"

"Subject A15, the surprise." She sighs.

"Hmmm." I answer, not really sure how to respond. I mean, there's not really a book on what to say to someone who got a mysterious tattoo in the middle of the night, and if there is, I haven't read it. She's just about to say something else when Newt walks into the room. We both stand, waiting to intercept him on the far side of the room.

"Where's Minho?" I ask, when he makes his way over to us. Newt just jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the door. Worried, I hurry across the room, only pausing for an instant before stepping inside.

I find Minho sitting in a chair, facing the wall. Even though I slam the door fairly hard, he doesn't even seem to notice I've come in.

"Hey, so, what did you guys decide?" I ask, moving across the room towards him. I pause behind him when he doesn't answer, suddenly afraid something has happened.

Finally he sighs and acknowledges my question, though he doesn't turn around. "Newt convinced me to be leader."

"Oh, well that's, um..." I trail off, not sure wether that is a good decision or a bad one. I don't think it matters, he doesn't appear to be listening to me anyways.

"Ya, except I don't think I can, I'm not sure I even want to." He says, replying to something I didn't say. Ya, he's definitely not listening.

"You'll do fine." I reassure him, draping my arms around his neck from behind.

"Thanks...I guess." He murmurs, putting his hand over the place where my arms overlap. "But if I'm leader, and I make a mistake, people could die, you could die."

"It will be fine, you'll see." I tell him, saying it without a second thought. Empty promises I don't believe, roll off my tongue. No, I don't actually think everything will be fine, it's already anything but fine. In all honesty, I'll be surprised if half of us survive whatever WICKED has planned, but I smile and say it anyways. But I do think Minho will be a good leader, that much isn't a lie.

"Thanks babe." He replies absently, still only half listening to what I'm saying.

"No problem." I mutter, going to lay down on one of the beds. "No problem at all." I stare at the bunk above me, wondering where I would be right now if I had stayed with Teresa. Wondering what I would be doing if we had all stayed in the maze. The last one I can actually answer. If we'd stayed in the maze, I would probably be dead. Even that doesn't sound all that bad at the moment. I bury my face in my hands, only to find tears streaming down my face. I hadn't noticed I was crying, and I don't remember starting to cry, but tears stream relentlessly down my face regardless of the fact I don't want them.

"What's wrong." Minho asks, noticing my tears only a few seconds after I do.

"I don't know." I say truthfully, racking my brain for an explanation.

"You can tell me." He says gently, misinterpreting my answer. I really don't know why I'm crying, I didn't even know I was doing it. Though I guess, if I really think about it, I do know why I'm crying.

"I guess..." I sniff, fighting to speak through the tears, "I guess it's just that for a moment.... for a moment, I dreamed that it was all real, that we were going to be ok, be normal again, that we were finally safe but...." I stammer, choking back a sob before forcing myself to continue, "but then I woke up to this horrible, real-life nightmare." I pause for a moment, reigning in my emotions. "Do you know how many of the kids put into the maze died?"

"Well, counting the ones tha–"

"All of them, that's how many, every single one of them." I answer myself, cutting him off mid-sentence. I stare at the bed above me, willing myself to stop crying. I have to be stronger than this, or we will never make it. I don't know where this new Skylar came from, the terrified girl who cries herself to sleep every night, but I'm really starting to hate her, and I really wish she would go away.

"You know what?" I ask with a laugh, clearly confusing Minho with my mood swings. Maybe I'm already going crazy? Who knows. I certainly don't feel sane. I sit up on my elbow and look him dead in the eye.

"Sometimes, reality just plain sucks."