THE SURVIVOR!
the truth.

NEWT!

   𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐙𝐄𝐃 while staring at the red-head as her sentence kept on repeating in his brain on a loop. 'His name is Gally, his name is Gally, his name is Gally.'  Gally. The boy who he had spent years in the Maze with. Gally, the boy who seemed to hate Thomas and Teresa more than anything under the sun. Gally, the boy Minho had killed.

He must have found himself frozen in place for a few minutes as he noticed Marg's mouth moving, yet he couldn't hear anything the girl was telling him. The pain of a pinch on his right arm caused him to jump out of his trance and brought him back to reality.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Margaret voice was calm, yet he could tell she was doing her best to control herself. If it was anyone else, Newt would have lied, he would have found a way out of the situation, but the girl in front of him was the same who had managed to make him feel like he could fly a thousand miles high in the sky without getting burnt by the scorching sun. "Newt, what is it?" And he was right, the red-head could see through everybody, her instincts never failed her so far and he had no choice but to hope for the best, knowing fully well that whatever came next wouldn't have been pretty.

Newt took a deep breath before redirecting his attention to the endless desert in front of them. Once he had gathered enough courage he exhaled loudly.

"Our Glade was a boys-only one; in all the years I spent inside that place we never had any girl sent up, yet there were still fights here and there. There was a boy there, one that a few could actually get along with, he was the Keeper of the Builders, being the best one when it came to building whatever we needed to live and survive."

He briefly closed his eyes remembering a heated discussion between Nick and Gally as the former had requested another cot around dawn, causing the latter to lose it as he'd been working almost on his own the whole entire day as two other Builders were sick. "The guy was so hot-headed, had a really short fuse and no one wanted to be near him when he lost it, yet we all managed to live quite peacefully for years."

Another flash of a very angry Gally, who had failed to become a Runner, caused Newt to smile as he had slammed the door of the Homestead so hard the whole building rattled and everyone feared it would have fallen apart. "Then one day Thomas showed up, the new Greenie. Thomas was different from the others, more inquisitive and curious and bent a very important rule, one that the boy thought would have brought severe consequences on all of us. Thomas became a Runner, regardless of the boy's protests as he didn't trust him as, after we had spent so many years looking for a way out, Thomas seemed to have found more clues than any of us in a short period of time. When Teresa arrived, the boy became extremely paranoid, not trusting her in the slightest and soon enough things started to change in the Glade, things that led a group of us to attempt to escape the place, while the boy decided to remain behind with a small group of other people."

The next thing that popped into his mind was the last time he had seen the Glader alive, the shock on everyone's face as they turned around and found him standing there, facing them all. "Once we made it to the control- well, I suppose fake control room, we found out that he had followed us and had been stung in the process. He made no sense whatsoever, yet he tried to kill Thomas and Chuck, a young shank, jumped in front of him and died saving his life."

"What happened after?" The previous melancholic, yet sweet tone, Marg had always reserved for him was long gone. The words that left her mouth were almost like small daggers sent in his direction, as if she already knew what the sandy-haired boy was attempting to say.

"Minho killed him. We were taken straight after, leaving his body behind. Thomas tried to force those people to let him go so he could take Chuck, bring him along, maybe save him even if we all knew he was long gone." The boy let out a shaky breath before turning around and facing the red-head whose air was currently flying all over the place due to the slight wind that had picked up. "Marg, the name of the boy was Gally."

The girl scooted backwards as fast as possible, dropping her knife in the sand due to her trembling hands; the boy didn't know if it was due to sadness or anger, yet he didn't question as he knew better. She started shaking her head, placing both hands on her ears as if what Newt had just told her could have been erased or was a trick of her mind, yet she didn't cry, causing Newt to raise a brow, worried as she had yet to react.

"No, no, no, no. Gally is still alive. That wasn't my brother, that..." She stopped herself mid-sentence before dropping her hands on the sand they were sitting on top of, causing a bunch of grains to float through the air surrounding the pair. "They killed him, they took him away from me twice!" She whisper-shouted, loud enough for Newt to hear.

Margaret darted forward to grab her knife, only for Newt to act quicker and securing it. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked, his voice shaking as he casted a quick look on Minho's sleeping form.

"I am not- I am not gonna kill any of you, I am not gonna kill Minho." The red-head quickly answered as she buried her hands in the scorching sand. "I can't, I can't forget what he's done, but I would have done the same if something like this had happened with Levi, if someone had killed him while trying to kill someone else." The girl spoke, voice slightly wavering for a split second. "But he was stung, he was stung because of WICKED and they all deserve to die. They are the ones who killed my brother, the ones who caused him to act like that." Marg spat out throwing the sand she had collected in her fists on the ground, causing it to swivel around her like a mini tornado. "I am gonna get my revenge, but I don't know if I am ever gonna be able to fully forgive Minho for what he has done." Newt noticed how the redhead ran her fingers through her long hair, gripping a few strands near her scalp so tight he immediately brought his hands-on top of her fists, trying to calm her down and stop her from hurting herself, something he managed to do rather quickly.

"You're not gonna hurt any member of the Group, right?" Newt felt the need to ask, even if he could see she was being as truthful as possible and she had never lied to him so far.

"No, I am not, but there is something I need from you." Margaret spoke up, locking her gaze with his and almost sending him in a state of trance.

"Sure."

"You have to promise, swear, that you're never gonna tell anyone, anyone at all, that I have a twin brother, a brother in general, and never, ever, mention Gally, okay?" Newt couldn't help but to look for any sign of a tear, anything that would have shown how she truly felt, yet it was almost like she had just erected high and thick walls around herself to prevent him from understanding anything. Now that the two were truly staring at each other he started to see the similarities between the twins and, even if he had his own fair share of spats with her brother, Newt couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to Margaret.

"I promise. Are you not gonna tell Aris?" The red-head simply shook her head, a stoic expression back on her face as she turned back toward the desert.

"No. But I do trust you, I trusted you with what has always been my biggest secret, and now has become even more important as Gally is- was one of you guys." As the redhead didn't make any effort when it came to move her gaze, Newt scooted closer to her and took her right hand in his, opening it slowly and earning a curious look from Marg, whom he smiled to before placing her knife he had taken for precaution in her hand and wrapping her fingers around the object with both of his hands.

Newt had no idea of why he did what he did next, yet he let his heart take full control of his actions as he slowly bent down and kissed the knuckles of the hand that was now wrapping the pocket-knife. The boy could have sworn he saw Marg blushing, but he couldn't truly see much due to the night-sky. He could feel how his own throat almost closed on itself, breathing became almost harder and his palms started sweating more than they ever did before.

The sandy-haired boy quickly straightened himself, clearing his throat. "For what is worth, I am sorry. Gally might have been a slinthead most times, but he didn't deserve to die, nobody did."

"Nobody did." She whispered running her thumb on his left hand's knuckles, creating patterns in the meanwhile. "I mourned my brother years ago, when I remembered how we had been separated, and it's not easy knowing that someone I escaped with killed him, but the real people behind all of this are those who work for WICKED." The distance that had made its way in between them was quickly erased as Newt noticed Margaret scooting closer and leaning down until her head was resting on his crossed legs, eyes facing the desert, ready for anything as one hand still held his own and the other held her knife as her axe rested in its holster. "I won't be able to properly mourn him now." As Marg spoke up, Newt brought his free hand to her hair and started running his fingers through them only to stop for a second as he realised what he was doing and how she might have found it uncomfortable.

Margaret must have read his mind as she placed her knife in her pants' pocket and brought her hand on top of the one he was using to run his fingers through her hair, almost giving him permission to keep on doing it.

Newt could barely fight the smile that made its way on his face as she kept drawing figures on the back of one of his hands as he brushed his free fingers through her hair.

None of them spoke anymore, just enjoying each other's company as complete silence surrounded them both, having placed the lookout spot far enough from the sleeping Group.

As they sat and laid there, Newt couldn't help but to think how the two of them had shared so much with each other already. Talking with Margaret seemed to be the easiest thing he ever did as far as he could remember, just like being there with her made him feel at ease, apart from the constant feeling of his stomach churning, as if knots kept on forming inside of him just because of their closeness. He knew he wasn't sick, this wasn't the same thing he felt when he ate something that Frypan had cooked in a hurry causing half of the Gladers to feel ill, this was a complete different feeling. She trusted him, he could see it just by the fact that she looked at ease by sharing so much with him, and he fully trusted the girl whose head rested in his lap as she kept on scanning her surroundings.

They sat back in their original position a few minutes before the next look out party came over to give them a chance to sleep. Newt nodded at both Frypan and Aris as he made his way, along with Marg, toward the sleeping quarters they had established.

As he started to fold a torn-up shirt as a make-shift pillow, he heard Margaret whispering his name, causing him to turn around and notice that the girl was standing near one of the corners of the place motioning for him to join her.

"Can you - Can you sleep here tonight? I don't think I'd be able to sleep on my own after..." The sandy-haired boy simply nodded before going back to grab his belongings and bringing them next to where the red-head was already lying down, facing the tarp. Once he placed his make-shift pillow and grabbed a manky old blanket from his backpack he laid down next to her. He felt awkward, but something inside of him almost missed being close to the girl, therefore he stretched his arm very slowly and tentatively placed it on her side, mentally ready for her to snap, hit him or react in any negative way. What truly shocked Newt was the sound of the sand as Margaret shuffled back until her back was resting against his torso, and placed her right arm on top of the one he was holding her side with, letting their fingers intertwine with one another. "Night, Newt." She whispered.

"Night, Marg." Newt replied as he slowly inhaled before closing his eyes and welcoming his dreams.

🙤 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🙦

MARG!

   Margaret couldn't exactly remember how long she had been in the Maze, but it must have been at least three months as she was keeping a close eye on the only other fourteen kids that had been sent inside that hell of a place so far. Night would have fallen soon and all they had were a bunch of knives they had found in some of their backpacks and a metal rod they had been able to extract from the only source of water inside that place, a well situated in the middle of the thick forest in the middle of it all.

Even if the red-head had done her best to prepare most of the Sunshines, this would have been the first night inside the Maze for four of them, one being a young kid who reminded her so much of someone she once was very close to, someone she had fought to protect. The red-head didn't want to lose anyone else, she didn't want to see another kid slowly dying of blood-loss due to a Griever's attack, therefore she had implemented mandatory training.

Regardless of what she wished and what she dreaded, the sun had disappeared quicker than usual and the small group could hear the faint mechanical noises that caused the girl to signal the others to take the positions she had assigned each one of them during the day. Some of them would have tackled the Maze, while she would have remained behind along one of the new-comers and another girl who had arrived along with those who had joined her after she had spent what felt forever on her own in there.

Each single Survivor, the name they had decided to refer themselves as, darted away, leaving her behind with Yoko and Finn, the former holding a knife, her knuckles white as she prepared to fight another night for her life, the latter holding a spear, hands shaking violently as he had never seen the beasts that plagued every waking moment and visited them even in their sleep.

After what felt like hours, Yoko had managed to wound one of the mechanical beasts, yet, not having seen any other charging at them, both Yoko and the red-head knew things would have just gotten worse as there was never a quiet night in the Maze. Marg held tight onto the metal rod with her right hand, being the only one strong enough to even lift it above her head without tumbling to the ground.

The screeching sound coming from each side of the group caused the boy to curse as he quickly searched the two girls' faces for any trace of fear, yet Marg's was completely void of any. The fourteen year old was ready for whatever came her way, yet she didn't expect to see Yoko being grabbed by one of the beasts by her head, causing the twelve years old to let out an ear-piercing scream just before silence engulfed the remaining duo once again as a large pool of blood fell from the trees above them, covering their entire bodies.

"What happened? What happened?" Finn, who had started to panic, kept on raising his voice and Marg was forced to place a hand on his mouth to silence him before cleaning away Yoko's blood from her eyes and mouth with a piece of cloth she always carried with her in case of injuries.

A large thud on Marg's right caught her attention, and there, in front of her, laid the gutted body of one of her former Survivors. The teen took a step backwards, only to hear another loud screech to which she twirled around noticing that there weren't two Grievers, yet there was only one of them, the biggest she had seen up to that point, and it was focused on Finn's shaking figure.

"Jump away!" She yelled, a command that the boy followed right away and just in time as the beast had started running in their direction.

The Griever, apparently, content to face a furious Margaret, raised one of its mechanical arms that the girl quickly blocked with one end of the rod, grabbing the object right in the middle with both hands. Each attack was blocked by the red-head who was forced to plant her feet in the ground and push the rod as strongly as possible when the Griever grabbed one end with two of its arms trying to disarm the girl. Margaret let out a loud scream as she removed the bottom end from the ground and threw herself under the Griever who managed to wound her left leg that started losing a lot of blood almost immediately, yet not even the wound stopped the girl who was now fighting for her life, a Sunshine's and avenging her departed Survivor.

Once she reached the back of the Griever she called for him, trying to distract him from Finn who had climbed a nearby tree as quickly as possible. When the beast didn't turn straight away, Marg gritted her teeth and swung the rod with one single and smooth movement against the Griever's back legs, dethatching them from its body that fell on the ground, still screeching even if two of its limbs now laid a few feet from it.

With the newfound opportunity, given to her due to the back-side of the monster laying on the ground, Margaret took a few steps backwards before sprinting and jumping on top of the creature, impaling it with the rod. She didn't move from there until the body of the beast fell, lifeless, on the ground, not caring in the slightest about the deep wound on her leg or all the cuts she had received by fighting against the Griever.

When Margaret finally jumped off the body of the beast, she stumbled slightly due to the long gash, but was too focused on the events of the day to actually acknowledge the fact that the sun was now starting to make its appearance and a few other Survivors had now gathered around the wounded girl who was still standing on her own.

The red-head didn't care about some of their comments in regards to the fact that she was covered from head to toe in blood, only some of it actually belonging to her. The Leader of the Maze made her way toward where she had last seen Yoko's body, which was now almost unrecognisable, and bent down to close the eyes of the girl before finally turning around and taking in her surroundings.

That place didn't look like a Maze, it didn't feel like one, it felt like a battlefield. It felt like a constant war with whoever had sent them in there and Margaret promised herself to never let them win. She promised Yoko she would have never let whoever forced them each night to put their lives on the line win.

🙤 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🙦

   Marg's eyes snapped open and she immediately tried to get up, only to find herself pinned down on the hot sand, something that sent a shiver of panic, due to her survival instincts, up her spine. It was only when she lowered her gaze and noticed a hand larger than hers pressing against her stomach that she realised her and Newt fell asleep like that.

The red-head closed her eyes once again, their conversation from the previous night coming back to her in big waves, strong enough to feel her heart crush over and over again as if someone had started tearing it apart piece by piece. She let out a deep breath, forcing herself to put aside those feelings as she had mourned her brother once already, yet the fact that her twin didn't like Teresa either just fuelled her deep distrust toward the brunette girl. Marg couldn't understand what was her twin's issue with Thomas, but ever since she met him, she had only seen his need to save his friends, to escape from WICKED, his hatred toward the organisation, all mutual feelings. Whatever happened between the two of them, the red-head found herself disagreeing with her departed twin on this matter.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Newt buried his face in her hair, his mouth only a few inches apart from her ear and her neck. Margaret could feel the sandy-blonde haired boy's breath on her neck, sending a tidal wave of goose bumps all over her arms and causing her to smile; the girl placed her hand on top of the one that was holding her tight and started drawing patterns on top of it and, within a few minutes, the boy stirred before letting out a small yawn followed by a small smile Margaret could actually feel as his lips were grazing her cheek.

"Morning." Newt's voice was deeper than usual, still full of sleep as he didn't move his body of one inch as he spoke to her. "Slept well?"

"The usual." Marg answer was as truthful as ever as she found herself trusting the boy with the weird accent. "You?"

"Way better than the previous night." They were still laying there, closer than ever, his mouth moving against the side of her cheek next to her earlobe.

"Ready to train today?" Newt tried to keep his laughter as quiet as possible, yet the action alone caused Marg to feel his chest tremble against her back, something that managed to make her smile.

"Only if you go easier on me than poor Frypan." She quickly turned around and sat up placing both hands on her sides.

"I'll let you know that that was me going easy on Frypan." Marg announced raising her left brow and soliciting someone else's laughter, that person being Minho.

No matter what she told herself, how much she tried to convince herself she could lock her sadness away and stop blaming the boy for something she would have done as well if Levi was the one that had been killed, her expression morphed immediately from a happy one to a deep glare as she met the other boy's eyes.

Without adding anything else, and noticing that the others were still asleep, she stood up and grabbed a large piece of wood before sitting outside their temporary shelter. She spent the following hours carving a long wooden stick slightly curved at both ends, something she had remembered her father doing in one of her memories after having been stung.

🙤 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🙦

   Once Marg was content with her own creation she stood up and joined the group of barely awake teens as they yawned and rubbed their eyes, some of them staring at her as if she was a mirage.

"You look way too awake." Frypan muttered between one yawn and the other.

"Well, I have to train almost all of you today." Marg reminded the group while leaning on her bō and tucking some of her long red hair behind her ear. "Can't do that asleep or on an empty stomach." She grabbed two rations and gave one to Thomas and one to Aris to start distributing as she sat down placing her new hand-made weapon on her lap as she crossed her legs.

"What the shucking hell is that?" Minho asked, pointing at the stick Margaret had worked on for hours. His voice caused her to form two fists that she quickly buried under the sand in order to conceal them, even if her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Newt who sent her a tentative smile to which she quickly replied with one of her own before turning around to grab a piece of her own portion and give the boy an answer.

"It's a bō, it looks like a stick, but if you know how to use it properly it can be a weapon just like any other. I am going to use it today to help you guys prepare against possible bullets or cranks." She bit the weird bar she had been handed before swallowing the tasteless food and biting an apple instead.

"I am so glad I trained yesterday." Frypan chuckled, something that caused Thomas to give him a playful punch on the shoulder where Margaret had hit him the day before and obtaining a low hiss from the dark-skinned boy.

Once they had eaten and the rest of the group had managed to wake up, Margaret made her way toward the front of their 'tent', her stick clutched in one hand as she examined everyone's face before stopping on Minho. The teen was brave, he was quick on his feet, yet he seemed to act first and think later when it came to facing a living obstacle as she thought back to when they managed to escape the compound. Along with him there was Thomas, the teen who managed to miss every single shot when aiming at the guards in front of him.

"Minho, up." Her tone had shifted once again from funny and friendly to a stern one. The boy sent the others a quick glance before standing up, sliding his hands in the punch mitts and trying his best to copy the stance Marg had taught Fry the previous day.

'It's not his fault. He was stung. It's WICKED's fault. It's WICKED's fault. He wouldn't have killed Gally otherwise. It's WICKED's fault.' Margaret mind was going in overdrive as she kept on repeating the same sentences over and over again as she stood in front of the boy, holding her stick with both hands in front of her and trying to calm her anger.

"Get ready. Avoid the bō, don't get hit. Imagine that you're not facing a stick, but a bullet or a crank. Let's go." She spoke up just before twirling the stick in her hands, raising it and steadying it above her right shoulder.

She moved as quickly as possible, mimicking a real-life scenario with hits way less harsh than what needed, yet the teen had a hard time dodging each hit. Whenever she lunged and he moved to the side his movements would be too slow or sloppy, whenever she surprised him by crouching down and letting the bō slide forward through her hands, he wouldn't see the attack coming at all, causing him to fall backwards over and over again. When he finally understood what she expected from him, the movements he had to practice and had to come to him as second nature, the hits become fewer and the stick cut through the air instead of meeting his body.

It had been a little less than an hour when she twirled her stick and stuck it in the sand. "Minho, you're good." She nodded at the boy who slightly winced as he raised one of his arms, the only mild-strong hit she sent him and he didn't dodge. "Grab an ice-pack from my backpack and go rest." The red-head exhaled and smiled as she realised she had managed to keep her anger at bay, she realised that whatever part of her still blamed Minho from what Newt had told her was gone for good. The only enemy in her eyes was WICKED, her relationship with the Group even stronger than before as the boy she had just trained squeezed her shoulder mouthing a quick 'Thank you'.

"That was... amazing." Aris exclaimed wide-eyed just before throwing a miniature bottle of water to his best friend. Margaret, regardless of the hour-long training, caught the bottle mid-air without any kind of struggle.

"What are you? Some kind of a ninja?" Frypan asked, earning a questioning glance from everyone, even Marg as she had never heard of such thing or person. "It's something I dreamt about, kinda remembered? It was blurry, but it moved just like Marg does."

"Fry, why don't you choose between Thomas and Newt?" Margaret crossed her arms smirking at the dark-skinned boy who looked like a kid who had just been gifted something amazing as his eyes darted from one of his friends to the other in order to pick the next one who would have trained with the red-head.

"Thomas, you first, shank." Frypan exclaimed while patting his friend on the back, a large smile on his face as the rest of the Group, apart from Teresa, burst out laughing at the sour expression on the boy's face.

"You know the drill." Marg smirked once Thomas had positioned himself where Minho had started before, a look of determination making its way on his face.

And just like that Margaret spent the better part of the day training almost every single member of the Group, as Teresa had exclaimed that she didn't feel that well and preferred to have enough energy to walk instead of burning it all off by training. The red-head didn't complain as, around five in the afternoon, the group of teens was all packed, fairly sweaty and tired, but still ready and even more determined to reach the mountains.

🙤 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🙦

AUTHOR'S NOTE

So Marg has finally learnt what happened to Gally, poor babies.

 How brutal was Margaret's Maze from 1 to 10? I mean, just that night alone would have caused anyone to go crazy, yet she is even stronger than before.

For those who don't know what a 'bō' is, it is a stick that is used for self-defence and attack. It takes a long time to master the use of it and, as you've read, Marg remembered her father creating and using one. She knows how to use it because she practiced every time she had a moment to herself in the Maze. If you have never seen one, it's the same weapon of choice as Morgan from 'The Walking Dead'.

Do you think Gally was upset with Thomas and Teresa because of something that has to do with Marg, among other things?