I. Cannot. Catch. A. Break!

She didn't seriously just say that, did she? Ugh, everything was going so well lately.

Except for the fact that the Grievers took Adam last night whilst we were sketching the Maps.

I basically run out of the room.

I can't lose him. He's the only good thing in my life right now.

I feel my rib cafe tighten until it is squeezing my lungs. Not to mention the stabbing pains shooting through my chest.

The only conclusion I can fall to, is that I'm having a panic attack.

Great, just what I need right now.

I stop walking and lean against the nearest wall, attempting to steady my breathing.

"Lori, are you okay?" I hear a young voice ask from the other end of the hall.

I slowly crane my neck upwards, to see Chuck looking closely at me.

I try my best to smile, "I'm fine, Chuck. Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

My face splits into a grin, "You're very sweet. I'm sure, thank you for caring though Chuck."

"We all care, Lori, we're a family. Remember?" His words, somehow calm me down. At least until the pain is only a dull throb.

I nod, walk up to him, take his hand in mine and walk out of the Homestead.

We end up at Fry's kitchen, so we offer to help.

Today's breakfast, bacon and eggs with a piece of fruit.

Chuck and I begin to crack eggs as Fry works on his famous bacon. Made from the carcass of an animal that Winston most likely chopped up last night. Oh joy.

As we're finishing up, I hear someone shout that Minho and Thomas are back. Before running to them, I tell Chuck to let Newt know.

"You're the first back" I tell them. They stand there catching there breath. Must be tired after so much running.

Newt is suddenly beside me, looking at the boys, "What happened?" Newt look hopeful. I really hope they don't disappoint him.

"Tell me you've got good news."

Minho looks so depressed, "Nothing. The Maze is a big freaking joke."

"What's he talking about?" Newt questions Thomas.

"He's just discouraged" Thomas shrugs. "We didn't find anything different. The Walls haven't moved, no exits, nothing. Did the Grievers come last night?"

I nod solemnly, "They took Adam."

I didn't know Adam personally, but anyone who gets taken by those creatures deserves sympathy.

"I'm sick of this!" Minho shouts, spitting onto the icy climbing the walls. He's finally snapped. "I'm sick of it! It's over! It's all over!"

He ripped off his backpack and threw it to the ground. "There's no exit, never was, never will be. We're all shucked."

And with that last inspirational line, he storms off to the Homestead.

Newt and I look at each other, before stepping to the side to talk.

"I'm going to go back to the Weapons Room. Take another bloody look at that damn code Tommy found. You wanna tag along?"

"Nah. I think I'll go and see if I can cheer Minho up. End of the worlds got everybody a bit short fused I guess."

"Be careful" He chuckles. I quickly tag him into an embrace, breathing him in. He laughs again as I hug him.

We part, and go our separate ways.

//////////

"Minho?" I stand in front of Newt's door, where Minho is staying since I'm borrowing his room.

"Go away, Lori. In really not in the mood to talk."

I continue to whisper through the door, "I just wanted to check if you're alright."

I hear a loud sigh from the other side of the wooden door. I'll take that as a

Silently, I slide down the side if the bed and sit next to Minho on the ground. Wander why he's sitting on the ground.

"So, are you okay?"

"No, Lori. I've been searching for an exit to this shuck place ever since I got here. It's been two years, Lori. Two years, and we've found nothing!"

"Don't give up, Minho. If you give up, than everyone's gonna give up. We can't have the Keeper of the Runners all grumpy and non optimistic." I attempt to try and make him believe he can do it. Nothing.

I decide maybe he just needs someone to be here for him. So that's what I do. We sit in silence, keeping each other company.

//////////

Hours later, night had fallen, and I had left Minho to his lonesome, so that I could help the others prepare. We rebuilt all defense layers over the windows, where Grievers and Gally had torn them down.

And now, once again, the time has come. The clicking and whirring sounds echo throughout the silence that is the Glade.

A group of us separated into separate rooms of the Homestead, to cover more space. We all decided to partner up; Thomas with Teresa, Minho with Alby, Frypan with Chuck and Newt and I.

The Grievers are not as loud as last night, but they're still out there. Small sounds give them away.

A scream sounds from another room, "It's got Dave!"

Hysteria explodes everywhere as people begin to shout, panic and run out of their rooms.

I jog over to the window, to see a screaming young boy, who I assume to be Dave, basically strapped to the back of a Griever. And running out of the Homestead in it's direction, Thomas.

"What the hell is he doing?" I shout.

Newt is beside me within seconds, asking who I'm referring to. Instead if answering, I just point to the dark haired boy chasing the mechanical beast.

Newt screams out to him, but he doesn't stop.

We rush out of the Homestead, hoping to grab him before he does anything stupid. But we're too late.

Thomas is in the middle of all the Grievers, being attacked by a swarm of mechanical arms.

After a minute or two, he's running away from them, only to collapse after about five minutes.

Something weird had happened though. Basically the second Thomas had begun to escape, a feminine scream burst from the Homestead.

We sprint over to him and Newt grabs his shoulders. "Get his legs!" He shouts. I notice that Teresa and Chuck stand with us also. Teresa and I take a quick glance at each other, and nod, grabbing a leg each.

We carry him into the Homestead, laying him on the couch inside the Med-Jack room.

As the other speak to him, I examine his arms and legs, "Guys, he's been stung dozens of time."

Seconds later I am handed a needle filled with Griever serum, and I stab Thomas in the arm with it.

He whispers something to Teresa, but I don't catch it.

I look around the room, and I figure out where the scream originated from. The mystery girl, is missing.

//////////

It's the next day, and Thomas is still unconcious. I sit at his bed side and check his signs. He got stung so many times, I'm not surprised that he continues to be out cold.

Chuck has visited at least four times since Thomas was stung. He's a really good friend. I talk to him for a while whenever he's here, since Clint, Jeff and I are in the Med-Jack room at lot since the beginning of the Griever attacks.

Speaking of which, he's back for another visit.

"Hey, Lori. How is he?"

I smile at the curly haired boy, "He's still the same, Chuck. No change at the moment. Hopefully he'll wake up soon though."

"Yeah. You should get some rest, Lori. I know Clint and Jeff are busy at the moment, and you have been here all morning. Why don't you go get some lunch or something?"

I raise my eyebrows, "Who's going to look after him?" I ask, pointing to Thomas.

"I will, now go and eat or rest or something!"

"Thanks, Chuckie." I chuckle, picking up my jacket and slide my arms through the sleeves, before walking down the stiars and out in the fresh afternoon air.

Fry's cooked up some pork sandwiches, and I also grab an apple on the side, along with a glass of water. I sit down in the table area, where no one sits because lunch was about an hour ago.

Half a sandwich later, Newt is sitting across from me.

"Hey, love, where have you been all day?"

I swallow my food and look up to meet his eyes, "I've been doing my job. Clint and Jeff asked me to look after Thomas. Clint's helping the people hurt in last night's attack, and Jeff is out helping to find that girl who ran out."

"Well, I was hoping that before the Grievers came to try and eat us all, we could just sit together and relax. I don't want to be rushin' around all night like last night. I just want to sit and talk, to you." He says with one of the sweetest smiles.

"That'd be really nice, Newt."

We sit and talk for the rest of that afternoon. One nice afternoon and night, before everything goes to hell.