Thea blinked sleep from her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in a sad attempt to stop the throbbing within her head. As she fought against the warm confines of rest, the memories came rushing back to her.

The needles, the blood, the bodies. Her family fighting a virus. Running from... from someone or something. The people, reduced to feral creatures, that she'd killed.

Thea felt sick. She started to get up only to find herself trapped... in someone's arms. In Minho's arms. She had been sleeping on Minho. And now he was asleep with his arms wrapped all around her. That explained the warmth and, now that she was paying attention to it, the steady breaths on her neck. She did not like that.

Without a second thought, Thea untangled his arms from around her. Minho moaned softly in his sleep, sending a shudder down her spine, and grabbed her by the waist again. Thea gagged and jerked out of his grasp. The sudden movement shook Minho awake. Either that or the slap across the face Thea so graciously gave him.

"Gah!" Minho exclaimed. He rubbed his cheek and pouted at her."What was that for?"

"Don't touch me."

His black eyebrows stitched together. "I'm not touching you?"

"Let's keep it that way."

"My goodness, woman," Minho said, stretching the stiffness from sleep out of his neck and arms, "what is your problem?"

Thea glared at him. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?"

"Woman," Thea spat.

He rolled his eyes, yawning. "Isn't that what you are?"

Thea allowed herself to indulge in a daydream in which her fist broke each of his pearly white teeth that were visible when he yawned. She smiled wryly at the mental image and hopped off the cot without answering.

"Ok then," Minho mumbled, following her out into the hall, "what would you prefer to be called? Shebean? She-demon?"

She stopped in her tracks and flipped around to face him, teeth clenched. "She, she, she. Is that all I am to you? A girl? Trust me, I'm a lot more than that. I could kill you just as effectively as any man, probably better."

Instead of answering, he scrutinized her carefully and smiled to himself. That infuriatingly cocky smile.

"What." The way she said it, it wasn't a question.

Minho just shook his head and shoved past her to continue walking.

"What?" She said again. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"You are something else, Althea Gibson."

"That's all? That's all you have to say to me?" Thea's blood boiled and her nostrils flaring as she looked at him. Her cheeks warmed, but she had no idea what she would've done that he'd find funny. She hated that he could do that to her.

Minho pushed the door open. "Yep."

She blinked. Yep? That was not an answer.

"You coming, Shebean?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Thea said. She brushed past him. Why he was being a gentle- no, that word would not accurately describe Minho- why he was holding the door for her was beyond Thea, but she wouldn't waste the... gesture. Honestly, she wasn't sure what it was.

"You never told me what to call you, so I think we'll stick with that."

"I don't think we will be doing anything. You don't need anything to call me if you don't talk to me," Thea countered.

At some point, the pair had ended up at a giant round hut made of sticks lashed together with some sort of grassy fronds. Thea had to admit, their ingenuity was impressive, but their execution could use some work.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, raising an eyebrow lazily.

Minho grinned. "I thought we weren't talking to each other. That sounded like talking."

Thea blinked deadpan, entirely unamused, and shoved past him into the hut. What she really wanted to do was sock him in the nose for that particular comment, but Thea was feeling unusually kind towards him at the moment.

The room's occupants, Alby and Newt, stopped, mid-conversation, and turned to the door.

"Captive acquired," Minho said, stepping in behind Thea and blocking her exit with his body. "Let the Gathering commence."

Thea spun around to tell Minho off for calling her his captive, but was met with a faceful of rock solid chest. Startled, she stepped backward and would've toppled onto the ground if not for Minho's hand sliding behind her waist to catch her. Heat rose to her cheeks. Thea refused to meet his gaze.

"Hands. Off."

"A thank you would do just fine. Even better-"

"Even better if I cut your tongue out!" Thea interrupted, smiling mockingly. "Touch me again and you're gonna wish you were never born."

Minho stepped back and put his hands up, glancing that Newt and Alby as if to say you hearing this? Both boys shrug, though the latter looks almost amused. "Whatever you say, princess."

"What is it with you and nicknames?" She said, plopping down on one of the logs that surrounded the hut like bleachers. She'd never admit it, but Thea felt as if she'd pass out again if she didn't sit.

Minho shrugged, grinning that stupid little grin of his once again. "What can I say, I'm genius! Einstein would be jealous."

Alby snorted. "In your dreams, shank. Now sit down."

"Finally, someone here can see sense," Thea muttered.

Minho put a hand to his heart and opened his mouth to argue, but Alby beat him to it. "Slim it. Both of you."

"Easy for you to say," Minho whispered beneath his breath as the leader sauntered out of the room to collect the other Gladers, "You're not the one being insulted."