Subject A0: In The Glade [Part 14, Newt’s P.O.V.]
Collateral Damage
14/? of Subject A0: In The Glade [ prev ]
Basically a self-insert Maze Runner fan fiction (because I’m obsessed and absolute trash haha) but formatted as an Imagine for more to enjoy! This is also Next x Reader by the way! <3
A/N: Written in Newt’s P.O.V. for obvious reasons lol You’re about to learn a bit of the Subject A0 character I created! I’ve moulded her in my head when I first watched the Maze Runner film and got into it and I found it so exciting and amusing that it fit really well and even parallels with Newt’s character, especially with the released excerpt of The Fever Code in Newt’s perspective, so I’m super excited to write this! Hooray! Hehe I’ve been really stoked to write these next few chapters of In The Glade because, ironically, this point in the story is where the idea for the series first started, haha! Hope you enjoy!
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“Hey squirt.” he greets as he closes the door behind him.
Instantly, a young girl leaps off of the ground where she abandons a notebook, craysons and pencil as she lets out a happy squeal. He was surprised a young girl like her was even up and about already, the sun just started rising. He remembers sleeping in when he was her age, without a care in the world - of course, back then the world was very different.
Her feet pitter patter on the stone floor beneath her before jumping into her older brother’s hug and looping her arms around his neck. “Cam, I missed you!”
Cameron lets out a chuckle and held her small body against his with one strong arm, the other setting his bag of scavenged goods and weapon down next to them. “You okay?”
She pulls back, dropping her hands to her sides and smiles at him widely, “Yup! Just been drawing!” Just as quickly as she ran over to him, she runs back to where she was, grabbing her notebook before running back to him, shoving the papers to his face. “See! That’s me and you and mom and pops!”
He looks at the drawing of his little sister, finding himself frowning a bit. It wasn’t that it was ugly - far from it, his sister had always been quite the artist. It’s just that, he wished the illustration of hers reflected their reality. She drew their family with smiling faces, surrounded by grass and trees and a nice white house with a red roof behind them - even their dog, Bugsy, was in the picture with his own little dog house. How he wished everything was still like it was before the Flares ruined everything.
“Do you not like it?” her soft voice calls, pulling him out of his thoughts, “I know green’s your favourite colour but the crayon ran out while I was doing the trees so I had to give you a red shirt, I’m sorry.”
His eyes find hers immediately and realised she must have been waiting for his usual, happy reaction. He forced a smile instead, “I love it, squirt! It’s amazing! And don’t worry, I’ll try and get you new crayons soon.”
“I’ll be sure to colour your shirt green next time!” She smiles back happily then takes the notebook and starts to clean up her little artist station she made for herself on the floor.
His eyes followed her as she trekked through the little, messy and unmaintained living space that they called home. It was their house from before. They had survived, barely, through the Flare but as the days kept going things were getting tough. It wasn’t a life any youth of her age or young adult like him deserved.
The space he was in was currently the living room and kitchen divided together. There were three other doors to other rooms: the room he and his sister shared, their parents room and a bathroom. But everything was a mess. There was trash stacked in the corners, broken cabinets, tables and chairs, books and clothes scattered around and basically everything was everywhere.
It wasn’t that they lived like pigs it’s just that at night sometimes the Cranks would come in and rummage through their things like it was trash. During those times, he and his sister would lock themselves in their room, close the lights, hug each other tight and not make a single sound. It worked every time, but he honestly wondered until when it would.
He let out a deep sigh as he pushed himself to his feet and took his belongings to the kitchen counter. His sister was stacking up her crayons into the little corner where she kept her things, humming a soft tune as she did.
Cameron couldn’t help but sigh again. He hated that she had to go through this. She didn’t deserve it. She was too good for the world: making beautiful drawings of their family together and all she could worry about was colouring her big brother’s shirt his favourite colour. He knew that she would have gone so far in life if it weren’t for this almost apocalyptic state the world was in now - and that’s why he always swore to protect her from no matter what… or whom.
A loud thud cuts through their entire house like a knife on butter. It came from their parents’ room. Both of the siblings were silent for a while, until another loud bang is made. This time, it’s louder, right at the door, as if someone were slamming a fist at it. It resonated through the house.
His younger sister, who had been closer to the door, immediately gets up and runs over to his side. She clutches the fabric on the back of his shirt, rubbing it between her fingers nervously. The expression on her face was someone who was haunted by fear.
“Kids! Please, it’s yer old man! Let me out now, will you? Please! Your mother over here needs help - your help!” a deep voice from the other room yells desperately.
He held her close to his side, giving her a small nod, as if telling her it’ll be alright while his other hand grabs his blade just in case. That door has been locked for three weeks now, he didn’t know how long it would last.
“Come on! Open the door! Help your mom!!!!” their father screams, kicking at the only thing that separated him from his children repeatedly. The tone of his voice changed from desperation to rage, “Or for god’s sakes help me! Open this stupid door!! Why won’t you open it, you rats?! Open it now! Now! Now! Now!!! Open it!!!”
He felt his blood starting to boil as he heard his father screaming at them. His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched. He gripped the blade he had by the handle tighter, taking a bold step forward to challenge his father but then, he felt his sister scoot closer to him, whimpering. He looked down at her and gave her thin shoulder a squeeze. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear. He forced himself to relax as she asked in a whisper, “Is pops going to kill us too?”
A flash of chaos in red mixed with his mother’s dying screaming from their parent’s room entered his mind. The horrific scene still haunting him even three days later. He took a deep breath to calm himself, “No, squirt. Never. I won’t let him touch you. I’m going to protect you, always, okay?”
She nods up at him and hugs him tighter, burying her face to his side. He takes another deep breath and grips the blade tighter, trying to relax and ignore the screaming of his father whose voice was animalistic but laughter even more terrifying as he yelled.
“Let me out!! Let me out or you’re dead, Cameron!! You and her!! Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!! Ha! Ha! Ha! I’ll slit your throats with my own hands and take your hearts! Gobble it up and paint the house red with your blood! You and her! Bleeding!! Haha! Just dead and bleeding! Dead and bleeding!! Dead and-”
“Bleeding. She’s bleeding. It won’t stop.” Alby’s calm voice said above the clattering of metal tools and medicine at the Med-hut while Newt carried his girlfriend in.
“Help her…!! Do something!!! Do something now, you bloody shanks!!” the Brit screamed desperately as he set her down on one of the beds. The front of his clothes were drenched in her blood and his face with his own tears. He sobbed next to her, holding her face in his hands as he stood by her side while Clint and Jeff began inspecting the wound.
“C-come back to us, l-love! Come back!! …I… I- Plea- Just…. C-c-come on….! P-please…!! Y/n…!” he choked as he stared down at her face, brushing the dampened strands of hair away. He streaked her face instead with her blood on his fingertips.
Sobs escapes him as the vision of her lifeless face streaked with blood blurs with his tears. He whips his head to Clint who still seemed to be inspecting the wound. He pounded a fist to the bed with such force making the whole thing shake, his voice cracking as he screamed, “G-get to bloody work already, slinthead!! Stop the bleeding and c-close it the shuck up!!!”
Clint jumped at the Second-In-Command’s intensity, staring at him with wide eyes before gulping and looking back down at his injured, former Med-Jack. He had already cut away the shirt she had on and was helping Jeff clean up the area. He let out a sigh, “Look, we’ve already-“
“I don’t care what you’ve already bloody done! She’s still shuckin’ bleedin’ out, stop it already!” Newt barks, closing the distance between him and the Keeper of the Med-Jacks.
“Newt, calm down.” Alby warns, looking at him sternly as he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
Newt immediately flinches away from it, “Shuck off, Alby!!” he screamed before turning back immediately to his girlfriend’s body, a sob escaping him when he looked at her again. He shut his eyes tightly in a failed attempt in trying to stop the tears from falling. He lashes out again at Clint, screaming at him “Is she gonna be okay?! Is she bloody gonna make it?!”
Clint lets out a frustrated sigh while he tries to block out the screaming of the Second-In-Command as he continued to disinfect the wound. New didn’t stop screaming, asking over and over if she was going to be alright. Clint didn’t want to answer, feeling his response might get him killed.
“That’s it.” mumbled Alby before giving a nod to Gally who had been at the door.
Together, he and the bulky Keeper quickly walked over and grabbed Newt from behind. They held him firmly, making sure he couldn’t escape as they began to drag him out of the Med-hut.
“Hey! What the shuck!!! Let me go, you klunks!! Let me bloody go!!” Newt screamed, his eyes wide in terror as he watched himself be pulled away from her. He tried his best to dig his feet to the ground and break from their grasp by pulling them forward. He grabbed at anything that could keep him in the room: Clint’s sleeve that ripped from his hold, the table at the side that he only ended up dragging with him until it slipped away, and pathetically even some glass containers that made no sense to even hold onto as they fell and broke on the ground.
“You can’t take her from me!! Y-you can’t! She’s m-mine! She’s mine! She’s coming back!! She promised!!!” Newt screamed so loudly and desperately that it was sure to even scare the Grievers. To his horror, her bloody body and delicate face quickly left his sight and he could feel his heart race faster and faster. Sobs erupted from him once more, consuming him completely once the door in front of him slammed shut.
The sound of the slamming on the door resonated as silence quickly followed afterwards. All he could do was stare at the door and hope that was the end of it.
A minute of silence, other than some rustling from inside the room, passed. Cameron lets out a sigh of relief, letting his body finally relax. He looked down at his younger sister who was still staring at the door in fear.
He gave her a nudge on the shoulder, startling her. It made him laugh a bit, “We’re okay. See? Just like I told you. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I’m around, okay?”
She takes a shaky breath before nodding up at him. She forces a small smile on her lips, “Okay.”
He steps back from her, kneeling slightly to meet her at eye level. He pokes her shoulder playfully, “Come on, squirt! Why the long face? Your big brother is here for you! And guess what?”
She looks up at him in silence. He could still trace the fear in her face. He rolls his eyes, “Guess, you dummy.”
She lets out a little gasp then slaps him on the shoulder, “You’re a dummy! I’m not guessing!!”
He chuckles, standing up straight as he started to walk towards the window. “Well, since you won’t guess I’ll just have to keep my surprise for you all to myself.” he teases, his fingers holding the edge of the fabric blinds he put up.
“A surprise?!” she chirps excitedly, bouncing over to his side. “Is it new crayons?! That’s my guess! That’s my guess!”
He shakes his head at her with a smile. “Wrong,” he starts and then pulled the blinds up and over her head so she could see outside, “I got you snow.”
Her eyes widen with fascination. “It’s snowing?!” she screams, not believing it. “How did you do that?!”
“Just for you, squirt. Now go and get a coat and put on some shoes, let’s enjoy some time outside while it lasts.” he said, giving her a slight shove towards their room and just like that she’s wearing the happiest of smiles again. She runs again with a giddy squeal and starts to rummage for some socks, shoes and a coat.
He lets out a deep sigh and moves back to the kitchen counter, fixing up the things he’s scavenged earlier in the morning. While he was out, the sun seemed to rise later and before he knew it - it was snowing. Why? He didn’t even want to try figuring it out. The world was already a mystery and he didn’t need anymore stress with trying to survive with his younger sister.
“I’m ready, Cam! I’m ready! Come on!” she says as she ran past him and towards the door. Her footsteps now heavier with the boots she had on.
“Alright, squirt! Wait up!” he calls, emptying the final contents out of his bag. He starts to set things aside when he hears the door swinging open. He chuckled, realising how impatient and excited his sister was.
“C-Cameron…” his head quickly shot up at his name. Her voice sounded like a whimper and it felt like his body jumped into action. He raced around the kitchen counter to see his sister’s small form slowly backing away from the door.
Realising he was there, she quickly bolted past him and scampered behind the kitchen counter. He put a protective arm out over her. Four people slowly filed into the room. There were three men and a woman. They were all adults, much older than he, and were dressed oddly - but clean, meaning they couldn’t have come from around here.
The three men surrounded the woman, their expressions solemn. “Hello, Cameron Williams. We’re sorry to intrude but with the situation of your parents, we just couldn’t find any means to contact you regarding your sister before intruding.”
Cameron felt anger pulse through him at the mention of his younger sibling as he glared at the strangers. He tried not to raise his voice too much, “Who are you? What are you doing here? And what the hell do you want with her?”
The next words that spilled out of this sharply-dressed woman’s mouth felt like an unbearable jab to his gut. “We’re sorry but we’re here for her. We need the girl. We need-“
“Y/N!!!” Newt called out, slamming his fists against the Med-hut door when Gally had let him go. He didn’t even hear what the Keeper was screaming at him, he just kept calling out her name as if he was waiting for a response even though he knew there wouldn’t be any.
“Y/N, P-please!! Come back to me!! C-come back…!! Y-you promised!!!” he yelled over and over in between sobs. He could barely see the blood he smeared on the door as he slammed his fists against it. But as he blinks his tears to fall, his eyes focus on the red that covered his fingers.
He stops slamming at the door to look down at his shaking hands, flipping them over to see the blood on his palms. The blood laced over his arms, almost like veins and patches and then a whole lot of it drenched the front of his shirt. His wide eyes stared down at all the red.
This… this was her blood. There was so much of it. A dreadful feeling started to loom over him as the Glade, now absent of his screams, grew very silent. She lost a lot of blood, more than he’s ever seen since Nick’s death. Death.
A sob escapes him at the thought of that word. No. She couldn’t be… Was he… was he really losing her? His chest tightens and his hands ball into tight, shaking fists. He felt like he was going to be sick. The horrific reality crept into his mind: Y/N was dea-
A loud scream explodes from him as he slammed his hands on the door one last time. It felt like his scream came from the depths of his heart before travelling up his throat and out of his mouth as it carried the love he had for her with it - as if to somehow catch her soul and drag it back down to stay with him.
His legs caved in and he slid to his knees as his scream turned into desperate sobs. He shifted to sit on his bum, barely resting his back on the door behind him as he hung his head back and put a hand over his eyes while he wailed. The stench of blood and death only reminding him of his girlfriend’s state and it was unbearable. The one person he’s ever loved and that made him feel truly happy, and she was slipping away.
He hunched forward as he dry-heaved from crying so hard, but the tears didn’t stop. He continued to sob. He couldn’t even think about losing her and now here he was in that very situation. He couldn’t explain the pain that resonated in his soul. It hurt so much that it felt like he had physically been battered. He felt like the grief and rage that basked inside him would show up in bruised skin or bleeding wounds.
Suddenly, a pair of running shoes stopped in front of him. He would have ignored it just like everything else but then the familiar voice of the Asian Keeper found his ears.
“I’m sorry.” Minho breathed.
It felt like Newt’s world stopped turning all of the sudden and he couldn’t think.
His body moved on it’s own. He closed his right hand into a fist, quickly got to his feet and swung his hand as hard as he could at Minho’s face.
He fell on his back with a grunt when one of the men had punched him in the face. Pain erupted from the right side of his face where he was hit, but just as one of the men tried to grab his little sister who let out a small scream as she wriggled out of the coat the man had grabbed, he quickly got to his feet.
“Stay away from her! You’re not taking her!” Cameron yells out, punching the guy back - harder. The strange man stumbles backwards, his sister immediately finding her way out of her coat and to him. He scoops up his little sister’s small form, cradling her in one arm as she rested her arms around his shoulders. She sniffled and rested her face next to his, staring at the strangers in fear as she tried to fight the tears from falling.
Another one of the men approaches them. This one had his arms out in defence but he didn’t buy it. “Calm down, we’re not here for a fight.”
Cameron is fuming. His breaths are heavy and his eyes are wide with rage. He quickly grabs the blade on the counter with his free hand and takes threatening steps towards them. His blood was boiling and he was filled with so much anger, he wanted to lash out at them already. He could feel his hand shaking as he pointed the blade at them, “Stay back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all! I’m willing to kill my own pop, so don’t think I’ll hesitate killing you!!”
The men seemed to back up a bit but the woman stayed her place. The man holding his hands up raised them a bit higher, “Cameron put the blade down. We’re not here to hurt anyone. We just need the girl, we’re going to give her a better life. A better home. Don’t you want that?”
He spits out a bitter laugh in response, “Really now? Will you? I’m all she’s got. I am her best bet at life.” he spat, still holding the blade out at them. He could feel it in his bones, if they weren’t going to stop. He was definitely going to kill them. “If you want to take her and give her a better roof to live under, then sure, but you’re taking me too.”
The woman from their group let out a deep sigh and took a step forward, only being about a foot away from the blade in his hand. “I’m afraid we can’t possibly do that. We can’t risk bringing in someone who’s infected to our facilities.”
“What did you just say?” escaped his mouth in a growl. He was fuming. Did that woman seriously just accuse him of being a Crank? How dare she? His jaw clenched as his teeth grinded together. All he could feel was rage pulsing through his body. He didn’t even notice the whimper that left his sisters mouth as she looked at him with wide eyes. All that was in his mind was that he was going to kill the woman in front of him.
The woman was eerily calm, “It’s blatantly obvious, especially with the rage you’re currently exhibiting. She’s going to help us find a cure for people like you. So please, let us take her.” The woman’s eyes glanced at the door of their parent’s room for a moment before they landed back to Cameron’s, “Hand her over to me before you kill her just like your dad killed your mom.”
That was it. That was the last straw. Cameron didn’t even need to think anymore. He pulled his hand holding the blade back and rushed forward to jab the knife straight into the woman’s skull. “Fu-“
A loud, earpiercing sound rings in her ears before the profanities could escape her brother’s mouth. At the same time, she feels her bare arms, neck and face get sprayed with liquid all before her whole world came falling, falling down to the floor.
They were both on the ground in a second.
Blood dripped from Minho’s nose and he raised his arms up weakly as the Second-In-Command climbed on top of the Keeper and started throwing frantic punches. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Newt! There was nothing I coul- I’m sorry!” the Asian cries out, tears sliding to the sides of his face like the blood from his nose.
“How can you shucking say sorry?!??! Just sorry?!?! How bloody dare you, Minho!!” Newt yelled at him, not stopping the punches he threw at the boy, “I trusted you to shucking take care of her, you shank!!! I bloody trusted you and now she’s dead! Y/N’s gone!! How could you!!”
Newt wasn’t sure if Minho was even protecting himself anymore as he continued to beat him up, all he did was yell out how sorry he was but the Second-In-Command wasn’t taking it. There was no way a simply ‘sorry’ was ever going to fix any of this.
“You’re a shucking slinthead!! She’s dead and it’s all your shucking fault!! I-I can’t believe I trusted you!! H-how dare you!!” Newt cried and before he could continue any further, his lanky form was yanked off of the Keeper and he found himself on his feet. Strong, dark arms looped under his armpits that stopped him from using much of his arms.
“Stop it Newt! Stop it! We don’t hurt another Glader and we definitely don’t need another shank in the Med-hut right now!” Alby screams into his ear but right now Newt couldn’t care less of what he was saying.
He tried forcing his body out of the hold. He tried yanking forward to grab the Asian who was being pulled to his feet by Gally. “Oh yeah?! Then bloody tell this shank that!” he yells back, pointing at Minho, “He just killed one of us!!! He killed Y/N!! He killed he-”
“I wish it was me instead!!!” Minho cried out, just as loud as Newt had been screaming. He was breathing heavily as he looked at the Second-In-Command who had finally silenced. Suddenly, the Glade witnessed something they never had before. Minho started to sob.
As the Asian’s sobbing made its way to Newt’s ears and he watched just how shattered his friend in front of him was, his body relaxed. Alby seemed to notice this too because he let go of him then.
Newt took a few steps towards the crying Keeper, a frown quickly finding his face again. Another sob was tempting to escape him, “I-I wish it was me too.”
Minho looked up at him and the two friends quickly embraced, an arm over each shoulder. They could feel each other shake with sobs as Minho put two firm pats on his friend’s shoulder and in that moment they both realized what Y/N had meant to them and how all they desperately wanted was for her to be okay. That them fighting was pathetic and stupid and something she would probably scold them for.
Minho and Newt pulled away from each other with a heavy breath, trying to wipe away the tears that were falling.
Alby gently approached them, “I know this is beyond difficult for the both of you but all we can do now is wait. Y/N will be okay. Have hope, I know she would.”
The two friends wish they could believe what their leader was telling them but as they locked eyes once more and saw the sorrow in them, they didn’t see hope. They saw doubt. The one thing that haunted them most was the red that decorated their limbs and clothing, both wishing that the blood would have been their own. That the blood didn’t spill out of her body because maybe then they would have had hope for her making it. They both wished for the same thing:
Her wide eyes started to fill with tears as they looked down at the blackened blood that splattered over her arms and shirt. She could feel her body shake as she blinked, tears falling down, but vision clearing to the horrid sight of the body beneath her: her brother had been shot in the head by the woman.
“C-Cameron….?” she cried, her voice coming out in a whimper as sobs started to take over. “C-Cammy? Cameron? Wake up…. W-wake up, please! Cam, Don’t leave me!!”
But even she knew it was all too late for that, especially with the black mixed with red blood that decorated her skin and clothes. They were right after all, he was infected. Sobs escaped her as she tried to wrap her young mind around the fact that the only remaining family member she had was now dead.
One of the men reached forward and pulled her away from her brother. “No!” she cried, trying her best to hold onto the fabric of his clothing but she was yanked away. She couldn’t even find herself to fight back, so instead she sobbed and sobbed, staining and dampening the stupid clothes this strange man was wearing as he carried her away.
She watched the dead body of her brother disappear from her sight as the cold air bit at her skin. Her cries echoed through the blank, white atmosphere. Her whole world. Gone. Just like that. She couldn’t understand why something so horrid was happening to her. What did she ever do to deserve something like this? What did Cameron, her mom, or pops ever deserve to be inflicted by the Flare? Why was the world being so cruel?
The man sat her down on a seat, barely even noticing that she had already been taken into something. She could barely find herself to care as she looked around where she now was. It looked like some kind of train, there seemed to be more of the adults outside - but like she said, she didn’t care.
The woman sat next to her, “I know you’re scared but it’s going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright. WICKED is good.”
Tears fell down her cheeks silently, not showing a hint of stopping, and she didn’t even look up at the woman who spoke to her as the train started to move. She didn’t listen to anything she said after and refused to be touched.
She felt empty. No fear, anger, sadness or anything. Nothing. She didn’t care. She couldn’t anymore. How could she after what happened? She wasn’t even scared of wherever it was these adults were taking her or what would happen to her once she got there. Whatever they were going to do to her couldn’t be any worse than what just happened.
A man suddenly interrupts the woman next to you, “The next one is Elizabeth. Her parents haven’t been responding to any of our messages. Should we be prepared for violence again?”
The woman seems to sigh frustratingly but nod, “Be ready for anything.” she breathes out and then looks down at the child next to her for a while before getting up.
She stared down at her fingers as they fumbled together. She was still covered in his blood. She sat there crying as the woman walked away and left when the train stopped again. There were more men watching her and guarding the doors. She was told that the woman would be coming back. The empty feeling in her heart made the wait feel like it lasted for hours.
It felt more like an eternity, if he were being honest.
It was already well into night time, probably even close to midnight and not once did his heart calm down or did his spirits be lifted or his breathing steady or anything. He was a wreck, a mess as he sat by the door of the Med-hut, still not being allowed inside.
Tears had stopped flowing out of his eyes. Blood shuck did his eyes hurt, though. He felt completely parched but he didn’t even bother to get some water, fearing that if he took his time to go away she might wake up all of the sudden or more likely, breathe her last breath.
Newt inhaled a shaky breath as he brought his hands to his lips while his elbows balanced on his knees. His eyes looked around the other figures waiting outside the hut. The entire Glade was waiting earlier and then people started to go have dinner, but he and Minho refused - not having the appetite at all. Some of them came back after, mostly the Keepers, but now the only ones left were: himself, Minho, Alby and Gally, who was barely even awake.
As soon as his eyes would meet with one of them, he immediately looked up at the stars, not wanting to share a conversation because he swore he’d just fall deeper into his depression. But looking up at the stars didn’t help either, because then he would just recall the nights he had alone with her.
Y/N loved looking up at the stars and under them was usually how he talked with her about the deepest things. Their most private conversations were shared as they looked up at the night sky, hands intertwined, bodies pressed together, lips grazing skin - it’s where they shared and made secrets.
His eyes started to hurt at the thought, as if attempting to cry but no tears could prove the aching that swelled deeply in his chest. He tried to take a big inhale of air but it came out in staggered, shaking breaths - courtesy of someone who had been sobbing all afternoon and night. He felt pathetic. He felt weak.
Not for crying over her. If she was truly gone - like Clint came out that door and declared she was dead - he would cry over her for days, weeks, months, maybe years. He would cry until he’d wish he had no more eyes because they’d be so dry and painful.
He felt weak and pathetic because as she fought for her life in that room, there he sat at the opposite side of it, unable to do anything at all. Even if he was in that room with her, what on earth could he shucking do? He was a horrible Med-Jack, Y/N even teased him for it - oh, how she was going to miss how she teased him.
He was going to miss everything about her. Even when she’d pout at him or call him a silly nickname or tickle him or scold him. Why did she have to leave him? There was still so much he wanted to show her. Still so many ways he was going to show his love for her. They needed a lifetime to be able to experience all those ways… why was hers suddenly cut short? Why couldn’t it have been him instead?
Before Newt could fall deeper into his self-loathing thoughts, the door creaks open. He had never gotten up on his feet so quickly. It felt like vomit coming out of his lips when he asked the dreaded question as his wide eyes met with Clint’s tired ones, “Is she okay?”
Clint took a deep breath, his eyes dancing amongst the four other Gladers as Jeff joins him at the doorway. “I don’t know.” he says honestly.
He swore everyone heard it when his heart cracked and shattered into billions and billions of fragments. He felt all the eyes on him and he couldn’t look at anyone of them, instead focusing his vision on nothing in particular but his eyes quickly found the blood that drenched over the Med-Jacks, making his heart beat ever faster as if racing for cardiac arrest.
Clint continued, “The bleeding stopped. She’s breathing again but she’s still unconscious. I don’t know if her body went into a coma, but it looks like it.” he gulped before looking up at Newt, their eyes finding each other for the brief moment that he stated with a sorry voice, “I don’t know if she’s going to wake up.”
The Glade grew even quieter as the words left the Keeper’s lips. The three other boys looked amongst each other and Newt was trying to get himself to form a thought in his head but he couldn’t. Instead, his feet begin moving forward. He pushes past the two Med-Jacks and it was like dreaming into a nightmare.
His eyes travelled through the messy ground of the Med-hut, soon it was covered in blood. Her blood. It was even on the tools on the table that stood between him and the bed where she lied in. The fear escalates in his body as he knew what he was going to find next. It was like sirens were going off in his head. Shuck, he kind of felt like he was going to pass out.
Slowly, his eyes made their way to look at her.
There was blood all over her face, arms and shirt. She had a blank expression in her eyes as she stared down at the metal flooring of the train. She looked just about his age. She was the only other kid on the train as they were lead to sit a few seats behind and opposite her.
The boy couldn’t help but look at her, she looked like she had been through hell and back - but her soul got left behind in the depths of the underworld.
Suddenly, he feels his hand being squeezed, calling his attention. He looks down at his little sister, whose eyes were on the girl too. “What happened to her?”
He shook his head, putting an arm over her shoulders, “I don’t know.” was all he said as he pulled her close. He kisses the top of her head gently before looking back at the sad and bloody girl across them.
With what they just went through, he assumed something very similar happened to her - maybe something worse but still the same: family killed, taken by strangers. But she was alone. So very alone. At least he had Lizzy. At least they didn’t take her away from him.
It looked like everything was taken away from her and the boy couldn’t imagine having to go through that. He continued to stare at her, only now noticing the tears that were falling from her eyes. It made him frown. She looked like an angel plucked of its wings, souls of her loved ones reaped, dragged through hell, then put on a train and all she could do was cry silently.
He unconsciously gripped Lizzy a little tighter. A part of him wished he could do something for her. Something for whatever happened to her. Something to make her feel better, but at the same time he also feared that if something worse happened to her - then there could possibly be something worse waiting for him and his sister.
To his surprise, his vision starts to blur and he felt a single tear roll down his cheek but he didn’t wipe it away. Blood hell, he barely even noticed because suddenly, the girl sitting across them, without even turning her head, looked back at him and in that moment he knew they had been through the same thing.
He could see it as his own pained, watering and sad eyes met with hers.
