Daughter of the Maze // Newt

Newt was losing it. I was worried about Ayla too, but he was going nuts over it. I lay in my bed for a while after waking up the next morning, trying to process my best friend's behavior, but eventually gave up and went to talk to him. I knocked once and opened the door to an empty room. Fuck's sake.

He was in the Med-Jack hut, Clint and Jeff working awkwardly in the background as he stared at a still-sleeping Ayla. "Dude," I said, and his head snapped toward the door where I stood. "Let's talk." I nodded towards the woods where we could speak without being overheard. He nodded once and grabbed his gloves from the floor next him, standing and following me out silently. "What the hell?" I said once we were past the treeline, trying to meet his downcast eyes.

All I got in response was a sudden, fierce hug and soft sobs into my shoulder. "Newt-"

"Am I going crazy, Minho?" He whispered, barely audible.

For once, I was tempted to flat-out lie. Tell him his reaction was completely normal and fine, move on, let him process it however he wanted. But I knew I couldn't. What kind of friend lets someone dig themselves into a hole of misery without at least trying to get them out? I took a deep breath. "Honestly? A little bit, yeah."

He pulled away. "Bloody hell. If you think I'm crazy, there's definitely something wrong," he wiped tears from his eyes as a smile ghosted across his lips.

I breathed a sigh of relief that he was somewhat okay. "I get you're worried about her, I am too, but it's not healthy to go making conspiracy theories about how the Creators are out to kill her. They have no reason..." I trailed off: killing Stephen. No matter how much of jerk he was, they might care.

Newt nodded, realizing the conclusion I'd come to. "It's not because of Stephen," he said softly. "It has to be something she did before the Maze, else they would've sent her up in the Box like a normal Greenie."

"True- wait, how much have you been thinking about this?"

He bit his lip, hard, and wiped a few more stray tears. "Too much," his voice cracked.

My heart sunk. This was gonna be harder than I thought. "Wanna talk to Alby? See if he's got any ideas?"

He shook his head, then reconsidered and sighed. "Might as well."

I threw an arm over his shoulder and we walked toward the Gathering hut. Sure enough, standing by the fire talking were Alby and...Carter? Newt and I looked at each other at the same time, confusion evident on our faces.

The smaller boy noticed us first. "Newt, Minho. Uh, hi." Alby looked up, eyes glossed with tears. Holy shit. Alby never cried.

Carter ran to Newt, pulling lightly on his good arm to get him to crouch so he could check his temperature. Alby smiled, and I moved to talk to the leader of the Glade as Carter commenced his mini-checkup. "What's up, man?"

He moved one hand to the back of his neck, evidently uncomfortable. "It's the kid, Minho." He took a deep breath. "He's good, man. Like, I don't think there's a person in the Glade more caring than he is." I nodded, still confused. He blinked hard, holding back tears. "He came to me, dude. Wanted to make sure the 'pressure wasn't getting to me' or something. He's ten fuckin' years old and he's worried about me. The person that's supposed to be keeping us all safe!"

I shook my head. "That's not your job, dude. You can't blame yourself for this. If anything I should be at fault, I'm the one that brought her there."

Alby sighed, settling onto one of the benches. "I'm supposed to be the responsible leader, but this is the second Glader that's almost died in barely over a month. What the hell?"