~~~Important Authors Notes~~~

HIIII GUYS!! I'm going to try and get right to the point because nobody likes long authors notes *especially at the beginning.*

So yah, this chapter is really different. And I'm not too sure if other Newt fanfictions on Wattpad have written things like it, but I feel that this chapter will add to the overall message I want to convey in my story.

And sadly I can't talk about that 'message' yet because it'll spoil future chapters, BUT basically, I just think I should explain that I don't believe that suicide is right or that someone should ever feel so awful that they want to die. But people do feel that way sometimes.

But I also believe that help is out there and that everyone can find hope in someone. Even if that someone has to be yourself. And that's one of the main points I want to make through my writing.

So yah, To Love isn't necessarily about Brianne and Newt falling in love, but more so Newt learning To Love himself.

^That is all I shall give away for now! Enjoy *if you even can* this ever so saddening chapter about the beginning of Newt's limp.

~~~

~~~Newt's Pov~~~

I laced up my sneakers, the pattern of over, under, loop performed effortlessly.

At least you can do that right.

Today was going to be a difficult day. I mean, I'd woken up extra early, just so I could take a final stroll around the glade.

I'd walked through the deadheads remembering all of the times Brianne and I had shared there. I'd stood in front of the box for about thirty minutes reliving every beginning that was born from it.

Remembering was hard, I realized. Maybe that's why the Creators took our memories away: they knew that the past was hard to bear. I guess, I'd never thought of my lack of memory in that way; somebody could just be trying to protect us.

Besides the remembering and the reminiscing I did this morning, I'd sat in the storage cellar for a good two hours, writing the final page of my book. Okay, maybe not book, but more like letter. A letter I planned on somehow getting to Brianne. It explained everything I was too scared to say last night. From why I had to leave, to how much I loved her. It seemed stupid even now, thinking about the words I wrote, but I had to explain myself. I don't know why I felt this way, but I did. I just feel like I need to apologize; to compensate the small part of Brianne that'll miss me for a few days.

So now the time was- actually I wasn't too sure what time it was as I walked past the kitchen that was now packed with people. I passed it without a second glance and went straight towards the homestead. No need to eat; I wouldn't need food today.

I reached into my pocket, feeling for the folded paper. For some reason this was comforting to me: knowing that I could do this without hurting anyone. 'Nobody was going to care,' I repeated to myself. 'People won't care. There's no time for sadness in the glade.' That was all I had to back myself up on this decision.

Please, Newt. You stupid loser. You're going to break Brianne's heart. She's going to hate you.

"It won't matter what she thinks." I muttered to myself, as I opened the door to the homestead.

The boards creaked an all too familiar sound underneath my feet. And my heart raced as I took on the stairs two at a time. I couldn't help but remember that this would be the last time I'd ever walked up these stairs. This was hard, but the time for reminiscing was over.

This was it. No turning back.

I hesitated, 'Things could change, Newt,' A voice echoed in the back of my head. It was her voice. Brianne's voice. 'You have so much going for you. This isn't the end.'

"But it is." I fought against my self-destructing thoughts, but they seemed more demanding than usual, "Kill yourself. You deserve to die."

I'm trying.

I had to stop and take a deep breath at the top of the staircase. Tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I did my best to hold it all in. As always. I've always kept everything so bottled up, all of my emotions immediately getting thrown into this cage. But now they've somehow escaped. And I guess this is the fatal result.

Minho. Brianne. Alby. Victoria. Jeff. Even Nick and Gally will be disappointed in me. I've never been one to make people proud, that's for sure.

I continued walking down the hallway, a little calmer than I was before.

I stopped in front of the first door on this floor. The medical room.

I only knocked once, before the door opened. I was faced with Clint. Just the person I wanted to see.

"Hey, Newt, Man," He put a hand on my shoulder, greeting me with his usual smile. But he was faking this kindness. I mean, who would be genuinely nice to a screw up like me, "Come on in, ya shank, I don't get to see ya enough!" Clint spoke loudly. I cursed internally, hoping he would shut up, so that Brianne could sleep, two doors down.

I hesitated before walking into the small room, "No patients?" I asked sitting on the empty cot, trying to ease my anxious body.

"Uh, nope, not for me, yet. They're a ways down with Brianne and Victoria. Jeff's at breakfast, right now," He began fixing the bed across from me, "So what brings ya here this s'moring? Got any runnin' today?"

"Yah, I just needed to drop something off to you." I began to pull the note out of my pocket.

This was it.

I could simply rip up the note right now and laugh it off, telling Clint to forget that I ever even came up here. I could give Clint a brotherly hug, before running out of the homestead happily. I could do my job today and finish early, lead the runners to the map room and then enjoy 'fun night' like everyone else. I could forgive myself. I could let myself love Brianne like I want to. I could live to see another day.

I could.

My hand stopped, the letter halfway sticking out of my pocket.

"But you won't," My dark thoughts whispered, "Remember the troubles you've brought to everyone in the glade. You don't belong here, Newt. It's time for you to go. "

"You alright over there, Bro?" Clint said looking at me strangely, "Can I help you with something?"

Yah, please kill me.

"No thanks, I'm fine, just a long day."

"It's 6 in the morning," Clint said laughing, "That bad, huh?"

Yes it's bad. Everyday is a fight. And I'm losing this never ending battle. I need help. Please, help me, Clint, I'm dying.

Silly, Newt. Such a fool. You want help? Here's my advice. Do what you really want. But don't cry to me when you start to have second thoughts.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled.

"I- sorry I didn't mean to upset ya, buddy. I just wanna help. You seem down." Clint said trying to comfort me.

"It's not you. I'm so bloody sorry. I don't know why-" I trailed off losing my train of thought.

I stuffed the letter into my pocket fully.

I can be happy. I can live. Why am I doing this so quickly? I have time. So much time.

Quickly? You've been upset for over a year. A whole year. You're weak. I don't think you could take another year of this pain.

Yes, I can. Brianne is here for me. She loves me.

She gives you pity. She'd move right on to the next keeper if you died. Don't act like you're happy all of a sudden. What happened to us being friends?

I could feel my strength against myself weakening with every stabbing comment. Maybe these thoughts were right.

"But things could always change," Brianne's voice pushed into my mind again.

A sharp pain jolted through my chest. It felt like a knife was being twisted into my heart. I closed my eyes in pain, hand clutched to my chest, trying to stop it.

"What the heck is happening?!" Clint yelled as he rushed over to my side, "What do you feel? Newt! Talk to me!"

"I- I don't buggin' know!" I wailed in agony. What's happening?

"Give Clint the note," A voice commanded me.

"No!" I said, sweat dripping down my forehead.

"What?! Man, you gotta calm down." Clint said, fumbling around for something in the cabinets.

"Give. Clint. The. Note."

The pain spread to my shoulder, then slowly to my elbow, and finally landing in my fingers. My hand involuntarily went into my pocket, grabbing the note.

I fought against whatever was happening, trying to pry my fingers off of the paper.

Nothing worked. My arm flew out hitting Clint in the stomach.

"Take this!" I yelled, breathlessly, as he took the letter.

The pain stopped, my muscles relaxing completely. I panted, hands on my knees, head bowed.

"What's this? Are you okay?" I glanced over at Clint. A syringe full of blue liquid was in his right hand. The note in his left.

What was he gonna shoot me with?

"It's for Brianne. Can you give it to her when she wakes? I'm fine, just had a bit of a panic attack. I'll be fine. Sorry to trouble ya'. I've just been under some," I paused, " really bad stress, lately."

I stood, any traces of hurt, gone from my body. I began walking over to the door, I was ready to leave.

"Um, alright. Be careful today. If ya need anything, I'll be here," Clint said behind me.

"Goodbye, Clint." I gave him a weak smile, closing the door behind me as I left. I heard a faint goodbye through the door.

I wiped the sweat off of my face, exhaling deeply.

I see you finally listened to yourself. Ready to end this thing?

"Not yet," I muttered, convinced I was going completely insane. I can't believe I'm talking to myself now.

I walked briskly down the hallway, until I came to the third door on the left.

I didn't bother knocking, not wanting to wake anyone up. Inside the room, were two beds and one chair. All three pieces of furniture were occupied.

I tiptoed over to the bed in the far corner. In this bed, lied Brianne.

Its kind of creepy, me just staring at someone while they slept, but I needed to say one last goodbye.

I looked down at Brianne, her hair was fanned out messily around her head. Her mouth slightly open, eyes peacefully closed shut.

I took in her complexion one final time.

I studied the length of her eyelashes, promising to remember how long they were. I ran my hand lightly across her soft dark hair. My other hand slipping around hers, our fingers intertwining. I listened to the sound of her breathing. I counted the number of freckles on the bridge of her nose. And lastly, I took note of the pink color of her lips and remembered how soft they felt pressed against mine.

Brianne wasn't perfect, but she was beautiful.

I leaned down closer to her, making sure she didn't wake, "I love you," I whispered, my voice cracking, "I'm so sorry, love."

My lips tentatively touched the skin of her forehead, "I'll still always care for you." A tear rolled down my cheek and gently fell onto the bed sheet underneath her. Once the first one hit the sheets, I couldn't stop them. One tear after another rolled down my face. I couldn't even force anymore words out.

Alright, hurry up, ya' cry baby.

"Ya' know what- you had it right yesterday. I'm just gonna say goodnight. It's less painful than goodbye," I sniffled, pausing for a second, "Goodnight, Brianne."

My hand slowly let go of hers and I took a couple steps backwards, accidentally bumping into the bed behind me.

"What are you doing?" Victoria asked sleepily from her seat in the chair.

I quickly pulled myself together, coughing to clear my throat, "Just checking to see if Brianne was awake, that's all." I began to leave the room.

"Alright, bye." Victoria said, dozing off again.

I closed the door silently, without looking back at Brianne again.

And that was it. We ended in a tragic goodnight.

~~~

I took a deep breath, my hands reaching out and taking hold of the dense vines of the maze wall. I kept reminding myself that this was no different than any other day. I always climb up these walls. Today is just another day.

But today was different. There was no denying that. This was the last day of my life. This little story I'd written in my head would be over. Everything would be finished by the time lunch rolled around.

I know that I'm stupid for not planning this big day out more precisely. But until yesterday I hadn't even known that the big day would be today. Yeah, I'd always known that eventually my time in the glade would end, but I hadn't thought it'd come this soon.

"You don't have to do this," I could hear Brianne's voice in the back of my mind for about the thousandth time today.

I let go of the wall. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe life isn't that bad. Maybe I should be more grateful for what I have. But as I looked up at the enormous walls of the maze, a feeling of finality settled in my stomach. This had to be done. I couldn't go another day here. I was miserable.

I mean really, my only regret in leaving was Brianne.

A beetleblade scurried across the ground, almost as though it were running away from me.

"Didn't wanna see the show? Smart." I said, slipping my backpack off of my shoulders. I let it fall to the ground. In mere minutes my body would be doing the same.

I tried to blink away the tears that threatened to roll down my cheeks.

You can do this. You should do this. You have to do this. You can't fail anyone else. Not again.

I mean, it was too late anyway. I had already given the note to Clint. I had already said my goodbyes.

I grabbed the vines again, testing their strength.

Who was I kidding? They were strong enough to hold my slim frame. The real question was: am I strong enough to climb up them. Not just physically, but emotionally.

~~~

~~~Third Person Pov~~~

"What is he doing?" Karen asked, frantically running into the lab after her lunch break, "Janson!"

"Whatever he wants. We dropped our control levels last night," Janson answered, starring intently at the screens.

"We can't let him do this! We need him."

"Do we?" Janson asked. He would never tell anyone, but watching this was tearing him apart inside.

"He's one of the only negative subjects. Of course we need him."

"He seems to have his mind set on what he's about to do," Janson mumbled, passively.

"We can prevent this," Karen slammed her clipboard onto the table, "This is unnecessary. I know we agreed on letting Newt think for himself, but this is different."

"How is this different? We need to save money and this is how we'll do it."

"Wait, what was that about money? Is there a money issue? I was not made aware of that-" John asked, giving a quizzical look.

"Shut up, John, there are bigger issues at hand. Can you not be so selfish?" Karen rolled her eyes, "Janson, stop this."

The head of Maze A looked away from the furious Karen, picked up his headphones, and began listening to music.

"I swear, some of you act more childish than the children in our experiments," Karen ripped the headphones out of Janson's ears.

"Did you say something?" He asked, a smile playing at his lips.

"Would you please quit acting like a child and start doing your job! We have a room full of lab workers who need your help on solving the dire needs of our subjects. So, it'd be nice if you didn't ignore me."

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now," He picked up the fallen headphones.

"Janson, one of our subjects is committing suicide! Can you please show some respect?!"

"I'm-"

"Stop Newt, right now! This is so unnecessary."

"Is it?" He asked, "These emotions are the strongest records we've ever received from this subject."

"There are other ways to get the things we need." She said, shaking her head, a few strands of hair fell from her bun.

"Go take this issue up with the PCC- oh wait, WICKED owns them now." Janson said, laughing.

"You are so immature."

"Maybe Karen's right." John said, standing from his seat, "This is the boys life we're talking about."

"What would you like me to do?" Janson pointed to the screen. Subject A-5 had begun climbing up the maze wall.

"Stop him." Karen announced, "Stop him or I quit."

"You what-?"

"I refuse to work if that boy dies."

"This is being blown way out of proportion." Emma said, holding her hands out in front of her.

"Emma's right, you're a Munie, Karen. Quit acting like a crazy with the flare eating away at your brain," Janson said.

"What's crazy, is killing someone when you have the power to stop it."

"So many people have died, letting one subject live at the expense of not finding a cure, is absolutely ludicrous."

"How can you honestly believe that you have the right to take someone's life away? I thought better of you, Janson," Karen sighed.

"I don't know what you'd like me to do? Save him?" Janson asked, staring at the screen. At the boy.

"Of course, save him."

"But I can't! This is what he wants!"

"Your controls can override anything!"

"This isn't what we agreed on."

"I know it isn't, but- come on! He's going to die! That doesn't even bother you in the slightest?"

"I have no feelings towards any of my subjects."

"That isn't the truth, Janson, and you know it."

"I refuse to control him. It's what the boy wants," Janson finally said, moving away from the control panel.

"Does he really? Is this really what anyone wants?"

"I need to do this for WICKED," Janson whispered, taking a deep breath, "The psychics. They know what they're talking about."

"I quit then." Karen removed her name tag, and she spoke at the same volume as Janson, "Death isn't proven to find you a cure. Nobody can predict that." She pushed through the door, for the last time.

Janson leaned onto the table in front of him, his heart beating quickly. He had to do this. WICKED wouldn't have a blueprint if people didn't die.

And what's so bad about letting the subjects have free will? Newt wants to die. So no one could blame Janson for not stopping him. And really this just proves that Brianne was a failed experiment. She was supposed to stop this; bring Newt hope. So really she's to blame.

All of these thoughts went through Janson's head, the decision left up to him. He could stop Newt by controlling him, which could possibly lead to WICKED finding out about Brianne. Or he could let the events take place as they would in the Maze, but live with the guilt of letting a subject die at his hand.

"Karen!" He finally yelled, making his choice, "Would somebody bring her back in here."

"Yes, Sir. And what do we do about the subject? Do you have a plan?"

"I have an idea."

"What immediate actions need to be taken?"

"Stop Newt at three fourths distance up, and give Brianne and the others some insight on what's going on," Janson answered, thinking things through, "Oh and, have someone ready to eventually lead a search party."

"So we're letting Newt jump, still? How can we be sure he won't die on impact?"

"Just- look! Let him go, but don't let him die. That's your only job, right now."

~~~~~~

~~~Author's Notes~~~

Okay, so I don't really have much to say! That was the chapter I'd been dreading to post. Well, the next few are pretty upsetting too, but this one was the worst, I promise.

I don't even know if people find this chapter sad, haha. The actions are sad, but I feel like my writing is a bit off. OH WELL!

AS ALWAYS, I love you guys and you're all the best people ever!!! HAPPY EASTER! AND I'LL TALK TO YOU IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, BYEEEE!!