We all sat down on the sand, staring at the fire, our own thoughts destroying our minds.

My knees were up to my chest as I stared at the flames which swayed back and forth like they were free. They could move any way they wanted. Make any sound. They were beautiful, and they knew it as well. Shame didn't apply to the heat that radiated off of the flames like they were willing to give up the thing that they praised the most. The different colors...it was all just so beautiful. It made me wonder why I was thinking about beauty at a time where we were mourning the heartbreaking death of our friend.

My eyes traveled over to Newt, who was laying on his side, staring into the flames as well. His face looked void of emotion, but I knew that wasn't true. He held a million feelings inside of him as he sat there, listening to the crackling of the fire.

When I placed my hand on top of his, I thought that he didn't notice it. Or worse, he ignored it. Maybe he was so far stuck into the sea of thoughts that he wasn't aware of anything going on around him. That none of us were here with him, feeling the same things. But when he gently squeezed my middle finger as I was starting to pull away, I knew he needed some sort of reassurance during this time. So, I placed my hand back on his, and he ran his thumb over my knuckles while bringing his other hand to hold our intertwined ones. Like he needed to feel more.

Without thinking, I tilted my head to the side and gently pressed my lips to the top of his head. I could feel his body relax from the subtle, yet meaningful, gesture as I moved his bangs softly from his eyelashes like I always did. Newt's eyes slowly fluttered closed like he was enjoying the moment as he leaned into my touch, still wanting more. I pressed my hand to his cheek, my heart bursting with how much I felt for this one person. It was a million feelings in one single feeling and I didn't know what to name it.

Being as gentle as possible with his fragile body and vulnerable demeanor, I lifted his chin to look up at me. He faced me, but his eyes were still on the sand we laid upon. The corners of my mouth tilted upward as another crack sounded from the fire, and Newt's brown eyes finally met mine, and I thought he was going to break on the spot.

The chocolate color was only lightly glassed over with the tears he was trying so hard to keep in. The scratch beneath his eye was a dark red, showing signs of healing...it just made him all the more beautiful. His sandy hair complimented every feature on his young face, making me want to stare at him for hours. He was just so perfect. An angel. Newt may not think he's flawless...the truth is that nobody is. But to me he's everything and more. I just wish I could tell him that without sounding like such a schoolgirl—whatever those are, the term just came to mind.

"I thought we were supposed to be immune..." Minho spoke up from his place sitting on his bag. Newt broke the eye contact and looked over at his friend, and I followed. Minho looked...lost. Like he wasn't actually here. None of us were. He was playing with a small knife and staring into the flames as well.

Teresa sighed to my right, "Not all of us...I guess."

I clenched my jaw, a newfound fear developing in my chest. Whatever those things were, never in my life have I been so freaked out. To lose my mind and want to hurt the people I love. To be a killing machine. When I looked into those monsters eyes, I didn't see a hint of sanity left in them. It was like that Ava Paige girl said: the virus was unpredictable. How were we supposed to know what to do if one of us caught it? What do we even do? Leave them behind like we did with Winston?

"If Winston can get infected we should assume so can the rest of us." Newt spoke up, his voice low, but still able to be heard. I squeezed his hand again and he squeezed mine. If I went all crazy, that would mean that I would have to leave. Leave him. I wasn't going to hold anyone up by trying to eat their eyes out while they were trying to get to the mountains. To safety. If I got infected, I would leave quietly. Probably with nothing left but a note. I would want to be by myself. That way, nobody could see me turn the farthest from myself that I've ever turned. Even though the person I am now seems to be pretty different than the one I was a month ago.

"I never thought I'd say it," Fry whispered, his voice cracking like he had a lump in his throat. We all looked over at him as he confessed, "But I miss the Glade..."

I clenched my jaw again as soon as the words left his mouth. Not because I was mad, but because it was simply just the wrong time to say a thing like that. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as my heart started to beat at the remembrance of waking up and putting on the same smelly clothes every day. Watching the sun rise with Newt and going out for an adventure with Minho. It didn't seem that bad when we were there, other than the fact that we lived inside a concrete box with no official way to get out, but now that we were on the outside of it and we were no longer the same naive teenagers we were a week ago, everything was shucked. Newt and the others had been watched for two years...every moment we thought was special for us, didn't just belong to Newt and I. It was like WICKED was watching a coming of age movie about fifty teens who were thrown into a Maze without any memories of the outside world or why they were there. I wouldn't go back even if it meant that we had a lifetime of good food or safety.

Tommy suddenly stood himself up from his spot next to Minho and walked away from the group. We all watched as he took a seat a couple yards from where we were in the sand, just looking out at the burnt Earth ahead.

I looked back down at Newt, who had his lips pushed to the side, looking at the boys back. I gently nudged him on the arm and got his attention. Without saying a word, I cocked my head towards Thomas, motioning for him to go over there and talk to the boy. Newt sighed and looked at the floor like he was thinking of a specific thing to say back. But I didn't give him the choice when I let go of his hands and pat his knee. The boy let out a huff and stood up slowly, wincing slightly at the pain in his leg. He moved around the fire and over to Thomas, sitting down next to him.

With a heavy heart, I shifted my position onto my back and looked up at the stars. The sky was cloudy...but not too cloudy that I couldn't see the little balls of light. It almost made it look like a galaxy.

Sometimes I thought that I took things for granted. Like the way the stars align differently each night, always keeping the world on it's feet to see how beautifully different it is. The way the moon lit across the sand perfectly and the way that it used to shine through the window of my room, shedding just the right amount of light. The orange sunrise that woke us up every morning. Those are the types of things that I've been taking for granted. I mean, you never know when your life is going to just be gone before you blink...I should've realized that when I was being chased by the Griever that night in the Maze. But it just sunk in with me now. How Winston had so much more of his life to live and it was just taken from him without warning.

It made me think about if he had anything planned out for the rest of his life. I never really spoke to Winston much, but I did consider him one of my friends. The only reason we would talk in the Glade was if I was complaining about his stupid pigs or because Newt or Alby wanted me to get him for them. I never really talked to him just to see how he was. The poor boy could've been fighting terrible depression or trauma or something I had no idea about. Something he had to sit with...at least Newt knew that I was there for him. I hope he did. I never really asked Winston about any of that.

At the thought, I moved my arms to the back of my head, feeling the slight tug from the braids on the side of my temples. I relaxed on my hands and continued to stare up at the sky, once again letting my thoughts take over as the crackle of the fire warmed my limbs.

I wondered what it was like to go to a bowling alley...I didn't know what one looked like, but I knew the concept of the game. I knew what you were supposed to do...that you went there with your friends to hang out or to go on lame dates where you talk about the stupidest things. I wondered if Newt would like to go to one. If the world ever got back to normal again. Although that might just be one of the fantasies that I have in my head, along with living on a beach in peace with the person I care about the most. I knew that the world wasn't going to go back to normal any time soon and as sad as it is, there wasn't anything I could do about that part of the problem. I couldn't blow away all of the sand or restore all of the buildings and cities that had been destroyed... All I could do was feed the hopeless scenarios in my head where we were all normal teenagers in a normal life.

"Hey," A soft British voice suddenly pushed it's way into my reminiscing and dreaming. I looked up to see Newt standing above me, his hand held out to help me onto my feet. I furrowed my eyebrows at him and lifted half of my body onto my elbows, making him roll his eyes slightly.

"Would you just come on?" He tried to hold back a chuckle as he shook his head, "I wanna talk to you."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked him, my heart rate starting to increase.

Newt shook his head, "No. I just wanna talk."

"Okay..." I slowly agreed and stood up to my feet, placing my hand on top of his and accepting his help for once. He sent me a small smile before turning away and walking me away from the group. Confused, I looked back at Minho, who had his eyebrows furrowed as he watched us, probably wondering the same thing I was. I shrugged at him and frowned, causing him to let out a breathy laugh.

"Keep it appropriate," He called to us, making Newt turn back to face the boy. He shook his head and sucked in his cheeks, ignoring Minho and continuing to walk in the direction we were going.

He led me to the other side of the trailer we were sitting by, and then a few yards farther. When we finally stopped, I could hardly hear the distant chatter of the Gladers and the crackling of the fire. All that I saw was the shadowy outline of the city we had passed and dunes of sand. I sighed and pursed my lips, turning my head to see Newt just looking out at the view. Something that wasn't too exciting, but he seemed to be fascinated by it.

His lips were pushed into a gentle line, and his face had no creases in it like usual. For once, Newt looked relaxed as he stared out into the distance, looking at nothing in particular. I smiled to myself and turned my head back to the view, just enjoying the moment. I took a deep breath, in through my nose, and out through my mouth. As soon as my lungs let go of all the air, I heard Newt inhale and exhale exactly the same.

"Did you want to talk?" I asked him, my voice hardly above a whisper as I continued to look out at the land, "Or did you just want to stand here with me, because I'm willing to do either..."

He chuckled and squeezed on my hand, showing a small sign of affection. I smiled at the gesture and turned my head towards him once again to see that he was looking at me as well. In that moment, I felt my heart burst with emotion. Feelings that I've never felt before suddenly came to the surface as I looked into his chocolate eyes and he looked right back at me. I let out another shaky breath, feeling my stomach clench and unclench along with all of the butterfly's that were swimming freely now. I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling nervous all of a sudden. It felt like a boat just hit me in the chest.

Newt broke the gaze and looked out to the horizon, then back at me immediately like he had been gesturing to something, "Maisy," He spoke my name, and I hummed in response, truly not being able to form any words right now.

"I know you..." He told me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused at where he was going with this as he kept talking, "And I know when something's bothering you."

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, remembering how well this human knew me. It was like he had me written down in a book, or like he had been studying me for years when in reality I've only known Newt and the rest of my friends for about two months. I haven't even talked to him much about me...and yet I felt like every time he looked into my eyes, he was staring into my soul.

Newt was silent for a while as he kept hold of my hand, "And I know how much you're like Tommy. You two are practically one brain..." He forced out a laugh as I turned my head towards him for the millionth time.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, honestly confused now.

"Bloody hell," He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at the floor, "I'm not good at this... What I'm basically trying to say is that I know you feel lost. Exactly like he just told me, so it made me think that I should tell you the exact same thing I just told him."

My heart expanded again as Newt grabbed both of my hands and stood in front of me, making my head tilt up only a bit at him. The boy exhaled a short breath and studied my face for another moment before he actually spoke, "There is a place for us out there somewhere..." He nodded as he looked out at the sand dunes and then back at me.

His voice was soft but held so much meaning at the same time.

"I don't know where it is," He gently smiled at me and scoffed, "But I know that we'll make it there someday, and just like Tommy, you can't give up."

Just as I was about to speak, he beat me to it once more, continuing his speech that made my heart melt, "I also have no idea what you went through when we were at WICKED, but I know that it was nothing good. And," He sighed as he moved the piece of hair away from my bruised and battered neck, making me look away in humiliation, "I need you to know that you can talk to me, okay? Whatever they did to you...Mae, you don't have to hide it."

I clenched my jaw and felt the tears sting my eyes for the second time today as he spoke the words. I looked down at his chest and swallowed the large lump in my throat, feeling my stomach turn with a different type of emotion now. It was the feeling that always stayed at the back of my head...sometimes it was pushed back and sometimes it overpowered all of the other emotions that made me, me. I was beginning to think that the fear that lived inside of me would never be put to rest.

Newt placed his hand on my cheek, and I leaned into it just as a tear fell from my eye. I clamped them shut and clenched my teeth behind my closed lips, mentally cursing myself for crying in front of him again.

"Was it bad?" He asked, probably trying to make things easier. I felt my bottom lip quiver as my hands started to shake like I was an empty soda can that somebody shook up. I nodded and looked back up at him, another tear escaping from behind the wall. He pursed his lips in sympathy and wiped the trickle of water away from my cheek, not saying anything like the patient person he was.

I sniffled and wiped my nose on the black leather jacket before I finally decided to tell him what I had been through. Who was I kidding—I couldn't hold this in forever. It would only make things worse. It was only a mater of time before Tommy let something slip and made Newt curious. If he wasn't already before. I did feel bad keeping something so drastic from the boy with the thought that someone already knew. There were certain things I told Newt, and there were things I kept to myself. I think it was time that I finally crossed the line between the lingering feeling of trust and just break down the barrier. Learn how to deal with everything that was inside of me...maybe by doing that, I could help Newt too.

"Yes," It came out as a croak, and I cleared my throat before repeating the words clearer, "Yeah. It was bad."

He nodded in understanding again, trying to be as gentle as possible with the state of vulnerability I was in. Tears leaked out of my eyes with no intention to stop now, but I was still shaking like I was holding something back. The anxiety are at my brain as my bottom lip quivered. Knowing that I had to do this, I moved my hands from Newts and placed my palms on both of my eyes, taking a moment to breathe and relive everything that happened to me in the horrible two days I was at WICKED. I took a deep breath again and removed my hands and ran my fingers through the top of my hair, careful not to mess up the braids.

"Wh-What did they do?" Newt whispered, keeping his eyes on mine but not in an intimidating way.

I let out a breathy laugh to cover up a sob that was about to slip, "They hurt me, Newt," I muttered, feeling my legs start to become weak.

"Badly," I continued, turning away from him and walking back a few feet to plop myself down in the sand. My hand met with the bottom of my chin, my head feeling too heavy to hold up by myself. Newt looked at me, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. I glanced up at him, the tears blurring my vision, "It was only probably a couple of days, but it felt like I was there forever."

Newt nodded in understanding, taking a few cautious steps to me. I looked up at him, another tear falling out of my eye without the need to blink. He pursed his lips and sat down on the sand next to me, taking my right hand in his left. I squeezed it tight, needing the little bit of comfort in this moment. My stomach was turning and my throat felt like it was going to be ripped out by an insane force from the lump that was inside. But I swallowed the nerves, and kept talking.

"I-I don't know what the hell was in the stupid thing, but all I know was that it hurt like hell when the guy injected me with it." I confessed, not being able to look at Newts worried expression.

He squeezed onto my hand tighter, "Was it the same guy that took you from that testing room?"

"No," I shook my head, "No. His name was John. Never saw him again after he locked me in my old bedroom."

"Then who did this to you?" He asked, motioning to my neck.

I rubbed my hand over the still bruised skin where they had injected me so many times, "Doctors. I guess it was probably part of my testing, but I couldn't really think when I was screaming my head off."

Although it was supposed to be a joke, Newt didn't laugh. He didn't even crack a smile. I guess that going from a serious topic to sarcasm wasn't the best idea. I looked back down at my feet and scratched my ankle nervously. I wanted him to say something, but by the look on his face I'm guessing I probably gave him more questions than answers. Hell, even I didn't know exactly what they were doing to me, or why. It's not like I would be much help in that department.

The boy cleared his throat, "D-Do you know why?"

"No," I stated once again, "I know nothing except that it hurt like hell and it happened every hour with thirty minute breaks in between each screaming session. Not my best couple of days." I let go of his hand and placed it under my chin again, looking out at the horizon. I could hear Newt sigh from next to me, but he didn't get up or say anything.