~~~Newt's Pov~~~

"Is it just me or are you actually smiling today?" Minho asked me sarcastically, as we walked over to the map room.

"Shut up." I mumbled, holding back a smile.

"No really. What's got you in such a good mood?"

"It's Nothing. Nothing at all."

It was Brianne.

Not gonna lie to myself, but I will lie to Minho, since I don't think he really wants to hear about my random thoughts.

But, these thoughts started on the night of Brianne's welcoming party, four days ago. She like almost died and I almost threw myself down in the boxhole to save her.

Yes, I'm that attached already. No, I'm not going to rush into anything.

"Mmhhmm. I think you're up to something and I'm gonna find out about this said thing, eventually." Minho pushed open the door to the map room.

I was laughing until I entered the room. There were too many people here.

At least ten people were in the small room, all of them huddled around the center table.

"What's goin' on?" I asked, stepping further into the room.

Nobody answered.

Minho stomped through the room, trying to make his appearance known, "Just so you know, Second-in-command of the runners is coming in. Nobody important or anything." Minho announced himself.

No one reacted.

"Oh, look! It's Newt the Keeper!" Minho tried yelling out.

Nick's head whipped around, his arm waving me over.

I stepped up to the table.

Laid out on it were a bunch of maps. Maps of the maze.

What are they doing with these?

"What's this all about?" I asked, touching one of the maps.

"We're planning." Nick answered, staring at the papers intently.

"Planning for what?" Minho asked, right at my side.

"To hunt a griever down." Adam, one of the runners, answered.

"What? Are you serious?" I asked. Are they insane? You can't track down a bloody griever.

"I'm not joking. A group of volunteers will be heading into the maze."

"Who the heck would volunteer for something that stupid?" I said, finding this situation ludicrous.

"Newt's right, I mean, he just so happens to be Keeper of the runners, so he kind of has the upper hand on the subject." Minho mumbled.

"Well, I think your girlfriend would want in on this." Nick said, a teasing look in his eyes.

"My girlfriend?" I asked.

"His girlfriend? Which one: the wannabe or the real one?" Minho asked, laughing. I gave him a warning glance, I don't have a girlfriend. I don't get why everyone is so obsessed with my love life.

"Brianne." Nick smirked, acting like he knew something I didn't.

"Oh, the real one." Minho whispered to someone.

"This isn't about me. Or her. It's about you making horrible decisions." I said, sounding more defensive than I wanted to.

"I'll do whatever I want, Newt. But let me tell you, I'd watch over your little lover, she's gonna get herself into some serious trouble." Nick winked and I had to mentally stop myself from punching him.

"You're all gonna die out in the maze. So whatever, send whoever you want." I muttered before I left the map room.

~~~~

~~~Brianne's Pov~~~

"Tie it." Victoria commanded, observing me as I attempted to stop someone from bleeding.

"How tight?" I asked, taking the two ends of cloth in my shaking hands. The person I was working with, probably hated me.

"Tight. You're trying to stop the flow of blood." Victoria was right next to me, making sure that I didn't mess anything up.

I mentally braced myself and slowly pulled on the pieces of fabric.

I held my breath.

"Perfect." Victoria said, as she cleared all of the stuff off the bed. She patted me on the back, "Alright, John, you're all set. Newbie didn't hurt ya' too bad, right?"

"No, she wasn't too bad." John laughed as Victoria helped him out of the room.

Victoria yelled to me just as the door to the room closed, "Can you go get some more paper and medical tape from the place that Alby took you to get clothes?"

"Yah!" I yelled back.

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.

I just helped someone.

Like saved them.

That wasn't awful. I mean, it could have been worse.

I walked out of the homestead, my head held high. I turned on the water spout sticking up out of the ground. Ice cold water rushed through the small opening.

I washed my hands clean of blood.

I guess this was life. It's honestly not as terrible as I assumed it would be.

I work, yet I work alongside Victoria, Jeff, and Clint. Mostly with Victoria, but after I confronted her about the whole "Rumors" thing. She'd outright confessed to have told them and promised to stop.

That was my first step to bettering myself.

I'd needed friends.

I mean, I'd just finally stepped out into the open air yesterday. No longer finding any comfort in my mournful, depressed state of mind. I don't feel as out of place as I did before either.

I have Jeff and Victoria and Clint and Newt and Minho.

I find comfort in feeling like I have a place.

And I'm starting to feel comfort in this glade. The beauty of the whole place was kind of breath taking.

As I walked over to the 'storage type of place', I almost had the urge to skip.

Skip through the overgrown grass that was supposed to be chopped down by the gardeners.

What's wrong with me? I've never felt this happy; this elated.

I kind of liked it, though. I like this happy feeling.

I walked up to the door of the storage room.

The makeshift door creaked open. A set of stairs led down to the room.

The word 'basement' flashed through my mind.

I took on the staircase one step at a time, hoping I didn't fall. It was so dark in here.

My hand moved across the wall, just like Alby's did when he'd taken me down here.

My hand fumbled over a switch, which I flipped, just as my foot hit the bottom of the stairs.

The room was immediately illuminated. Boxes upon boxes were lined up, only some of them opened.

If I were paper where would I be?

I walked along the perimeter of the room. I should come down here more often. It's kind of fun seeing all this unused stuff.

I strolled past the area reserved for weapons, rather quickly.

I kept walking, eventually finding a box with the words medical across it.

"That seems about right." I mumbled, opening the box.

I sat down so I could dig through it more easily.

Bandages.

Syringes.

A blanket.

And paper? Okay then, that's not really considered medical, but I'll take it.

Wait, this paper has already been used.

Oh?

My hands picked up the delicate paper that had words lightly scrawled across it.

Gally: Changing as usual. Colorful veins and irrational behavior. Final: Back to normal.

What are these?

I picked up another piece of paper.

Joe: Changing. Mentally unstable and a threat to the gladers. Final: Banished.

Banished? What the heck? I folded this piece of paper and stuffed it in my pocket.

I threw the rest of the papers back into the box. After another minute, I found the medical tape.

"Now, I need real paper." It has to be around here somewhere.

I decided to try looking on the old cabinet in the back of the room.

It reminded me of a book shelf.

I wonder if they have books here?

I almost jumped from excitement. I feel like the old me, pre-glade me, would have loved reading.

My memory-flushed mind, desperately tried to grasp just one thought about books.

Nothing.

All I know is that I want to read.

Imagine if I found a book, though. Who knows what it would be about?

Princesses in distress? A fictional world in catastrophe? What about a romance? Or even a mystery?

How did I remember these types of books, but not the specific novels?

My head hurt from thinking about it.

I practically ran over to the shelf, almost tripping on a couple of boxes.

Holy crap, I think I just found a book.

My hand quickly grabbed the old binding. It was dusty, but I couldn't care less.

I had absolutely no doubt in my mind: this was a book.

I opened it, and flipped through the pages.

Empty.

Blank pages upon blank pages.

"Are you kidding me?" I said, sighing.

Nothing was written in here-

Wait, I flipped past a page that had words on it.

My fingers frantically searched for it again. Finding it on page two.

This is the beginning, I've realized. The beginning of life. The beginning of everything. Never before could I have known what it was like. Nobody else could have shown me this new door. A door of opportunity. For the final stretch I see it, rounding the curb. I see it far off in the distance. Running. Sprinting. Farther and farther away from me the truth runs. But I am determined to know why I feel this way. Painful as it might be.

I couldn't stop reading the beautiful words.

Where did these come from?

Who wrote this?

Did this come from the box?

I flipped to the next page, finding it to be blank.

That's it?

What is the author talking about?

What's so painful? What can they see? Goodness, talk about a cliffhanger.

I put the book back on the shelf.

"Holy crap." I breathed.

Next to the book was a huge stack of paper.

Finally.

I heard the door to the celler open. Someone's footsteps echoed down the steps. I pressed my back up against the shelf, hoping that the boxes concealed me from the stranger's view.

"Course, someone would leave the lights on." The voice mumbled, "Nothing ever goes right." I heard a sigh and a few noises, "All I want is some peace of mind. Not a thing more. Bloody hell."

Newt?

I took a quick glance around the corner of the box.

It was Newt. He was standing with one hand resting on his hip. A distressed look on his face.

"Ugh, I'm so close to just giving up."

I heard footsteps coming closer and closer to where I was hiding, so me being the bright human I am, decided to stand up.

I was met face to face with Newt.

He looked shocked. I mean, rightfully so.

A crash sounded behind me.

Newt sighed.

"That was the bookshelf, wasn't it?" I asked, slowly turning around.

On the ground, lied the book and a bunch of paper. I quickly picked up the book, making sure it wasn't ruined.

"What are you doing down here?" Newt asked, giving me stern look. He grabbed the book from my hands.

"I well- I was just looking for paper." I mumbled, feeling very awkward under Newt's intense gaze, "Do you know who wrote that book?" I asked, as I bent down to pick up the mess of paper that had fallen.

Newt shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat on one of the boxes, "Didn't even know there were books down here."

"Well, there isn't, but in that book, that you not so nicely stole from me, someone wrote stuff. I just wanted to know who, because it was left at such a cliffhanger."

Newt flipped the book open, his eyes reading over the messily written words.

"Isn't it good?" I felt the need to justify my opinion, "I don't know, I just really want to read more." I picked up the last piece of paper.

"You think that's a cliffhanger?" Newt asked, peering at me. Despite the question, his voice wasn't in a belittling tone. He was genuinely curious.

"Yah." I pushed my hair out of my face, "You never really understand what the writer is chasing after. The big picture isn't complete."

"You like to read?" This question was so random, that I was taken back a bit.

"I think I did. Or I do. I don't know. I think it would be nice to escape from reality, even if only for a little while."

"Yah, I guess, but I just don't see how anyone could focus on anything other than reality. I mean, everything around us is so messed up."

A question popped into my head: Why was Newt even down here?

"I just wanted a reprieve."

I don't know why I was suddenly obsessed with reading. Or why I cared so much about someone's random journal entry. But I did care.

"What brought you down here?" I asked, grabbing a small stack of paper for Victoria.

"I needed a buggin' escape."

"So I'm not the only one, I see." I smiled.

"We all find salvation in doing different things, I guess. Sometimes being the writer and sometimes being the reader."

I quickly thought over his words.

"You did not?" I asked, laughing, "You're telling me, that you wrote this." I picked up the book that Newt had set beside him.

"I never said-"

"But you did! Holy crap, Newt! You're amazing. Write more." I can't believe he could piece together words like that.

"I don't know, it was nothing, trust me." Newt gave me an awkward smile.

"But it was so good. Tell me what the person is chasing after? What is this about? I don't think I'll ever sleep again, if I don't find out."

"I wrote it while thinking about you."

My cheeks turned about thirty shades darker than they should have been.

"Oh." I said, quietly.

"Yah, it's metaphorical- I- I don't really like talking about what I write." Newt said, shaking his head.

"So you're telling me that there's more where this came from?" This is so weird. I came down here in an elated mood searching for paper and now I'm in such an emotional attached state, that I feel so torn.

"No- I shouldn't have said anything-"

"No, it's okay. I get it. It's personal. That's okay, I mean- I wouldn't want someone reading my thoughts all of the time either."

~~~~

~~~Third Person Pov~~~

"We are totally listening to their whole conversation, while the computers pick up all of their thoughts and emotions. This is incredible." John breathed, as he watched the two subjects talking.

"I told you that this would work." Janson announced to WICKED's lab workers, but directed his words mostly to Karen.

"Oh please, nothing has changed and nothing will ever change down in that experiment."

"Haha, was that a pun?" Janson asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What are you talking about, I was just stating the facts."

"You know, because Teresa's big line is gonna be 'Everything is going to change.' I just thought that maybe, just maybe, you had a sense of humor. I was wrong."

"There's no time for humor." Karen grabbed papers from the copier.

"What is Newt thinking about?" Janson asked, glancing up at the projector. Janson knew, along with everyone else, that WICKED had made the right choice with sending Brianne in. Even Karen knew deep down that whatever plan they had assembled would work.

Brianne had just left the storage room, leaving Newt by himself. Newt slowly slid the book back into place on the shelf, a smile spreading across his face.

"Do I have to say?" She asked, closing her eyes.

"What kind of a question is that? I mean, come on, Karen, there's no time for humor."

Karen rolled her eyes, "He's happy." She mumbled.

"And?" Janson pushed for more.

"And he's showing feelings of lo-" She cut herself off.

"What was that?" Janson asked, sarcastically, "I didn't quite hear you."

"He likes her."

"Which girl does Newt like?"

"The one that you sent in."

"That's what I thought." Janson smiled victoriously.

"But you controlled him. You're playing with his emotions." Karen pulled at her hair.

"Yah, yah, yah."

"One day, this is all going to blow up in our faces."

"Okay?"

"You have to know that this isn't right, you're controlling him. How can you even tell if he really likes her?"

"I never told him to write that paragraph. I never made him write it about her. He just did it on his own."

"If you think that one or two thoughts of joy will override this boys sorrow then you're crazy."

"Please, I'm not immune like you, but the flare hasn't gotten to me yet."

"But you know who it will get to?" Karen asked, relentlessly. All of the lab workers held there breath. Would Karen really bring this up?

"Oh, here we go again. I like to dwell in the present not the future." Janson rolled his eyes.

"Stage One of the trials isn't the only thing we have to worry about, you know. We have to think about the fact that this boy, Subject A-5, won't be with us for long, if we don't find ourselves a cure. Remember that, Janson."

~~~~~

~~~Author's Notes~~~

Hiiiiii baessss!!! GUYS WE GOT 51K HOLYYYY CRAPPPP!! UJAJSJDKDK

I can't. I'm so excited for us!!! To Love makes me so happy!!!

Sorry for so much Pov change in this chapter, but idk I kind of liked it. Whatever, it is what it is. I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE WHAT IM WRITING, because I want it to interest you. I spend so much time writing, y'all don't even know.

IM SO EXCITED FOR THE UPCOMING CHAPTERS!! Newt and Brianne are getting closer and I can finally let my weird obsession with Newt fully show. *laughs awkwardly but is legit*

SOOOO I'LL SEE Y'ALL IN THE NEXT CHAPTERRRR ILYYYY!!