I love you, Newt. I love you so much.

I should've known what I was getting myself into before letting myself fall in love. A life of danger, where one of us could lose the other in the simple snap of a finger.

I should've stayed with you. Maybe then that would give you enough time to get to Brenda. She should've given you the temporary serum. Then we could've flown to WICKED and gotten the real thing, without you being hurt. Without a knife lodged into your stomach.

I should've thought about what would happen instead of just running away as soon as I figured out the cure.

And I feel disgusted with myself that I may have cost you your life all because I left you. Unprotected, with Thomas, without any idea of where I was headed to, or when I was going to be back. I never wanted you to be hurt, by anyone or anything. Now here you are, laying on the floor. Hurt. I accidently orchestrated what I thought, was a good thing.

Because I love you so much, I put you in this position. I never thought that love was a bad thing. I always thought that it was perpetual and nothing but a good thing in any circumstance.

But that's not true.

I destroyed you simply by loving you, and I had no idea.

I'm so sorry, angel.

I don't get to play the victim. I don't get to cry and tell you that I gave you everything I had by literally risking my life for you once again. Because that's not the point. The point is that you gave me everything you had and I didn't cherish it as much as I should have or I would've stayed with you. The whole time I was telling myself that I was putting you and your needs first. But I wasn't. I put mine first without even knowing it. All I knew was that I couldn't lose another person. I never thought about how much you needed me to stay with you in those moments.

What an idiot I am.

I'm an idiot, Newt. And I hate that I put you through pain when all you wanted was for me to stay with you. Now I'm holding you as the clock begins to tick once again, this time counting the minutes that you have left on this terrible earth. But that's the thing. It was never really as terrible as it seemed with you. And maybe I took that a bit too much for granted.

Now, I'm scared.

I'm scared of what all of this means. If the knife will win, or if you will somehow fight like you always seem to do, even with so little strength left in you. I admire you so much for that, Newt. I'm scared that I'll never be able to tell you that I love you again. Because I really, really love you. I'm scared that I'll never see that angelic smile form across your features, or hear that soul lifting laugh that lights up the room every single time. I'm scared that I'll live the rest of my life missing you—blaming your death on myself.

I'm so scared.

"What?" The words hit me like a bullet in the heart.

Her sentence echoing in my head, I stared back at her, unable to move. I was scared that if I moved, I would somehow hurt Newt more. Maybe move the knife farther into his stomach so that it hit major internal organs. If I breathed, the knife would shift and he would cry out in agony. So I stayed still.

My heart was pounding against my ribcages, and I could hear it in my ears as well. Like someone constantly hitting a wooden door, it became louder with the second, watching in slow motion as Minho ran forward, signaling for someone behind him to help.

I've ruined it all.

"He's still alive, Mae." Teresa stressed as her eyes became wide and frantic as she looked over her shoulder. Hair blowing in the wind, she got up from her knees, allowing Minho to rush to my side as she pointed at the knife in Newt's stomach. "Whatever you do, do not take that out."

I kept my arms tight around Newt's body, not wanting to let go but knowing I had to. My eyes were wide, staring into the abyss as Minho placed a soft hand on my shoulder. It felt like he wasn't even touching me, he was so gentle. Frypan and Gally rushed to action, but for me it was as though they were moving in slow motion. They grabbed hold of my stiff arms, gently trying to pry my grasp off of the boy. But I wasn't able to be moved. Not even by the strongest force in the universe. Nothing could part me from Newt at this moment.

"Mae..." Minho bent down, and I blinked as he shook my shoulder gently. My mouth was slightly open, I was floating on top of water, not even touching the ground as he tried to speak to me. "Mae, you gotta let go so we can help him."

I shook my head, keeping my eyes straight forward as another subtle tear rolled down my cheek, falling onto my bicep. I blinked again, allowing another to drop. My eyes shifted to look at Minho, and the consoling, yet worried look on his face.

"I don't want to." I whispered, my head continuing to shake against his order. "I don't want to let go of him because if I do he'll hurt more. And he can't take it."

Impulsively, I moved my arm up just an inch to tangle my hand in his locks once more, pressing my cheek against the top of his head. I tried my best not to clench my fists in anguish, but I felt as though every aspect of my life was sinking into shambles. Newt's eyes were closed gently, there's nothing I could do to try and wake him up.

The void in my chest knew that I had to let go. It's shocking to think that I haven't completely lashed out yet. I guess I was just still so full of painful adrenaline due to this situation and the fact that I haven't yet come down to the fact that I was beaten for minutes on end less than an hour ago. But I could tell it was coming—pain and regret like this were just too much for me to keep in.

I felt it when my mom died. And now I feel it because of Newt.

"Mae, you gotta let go, okay?" Minho mumbled so gently to me, trying to act quickly, but shoving down his own emotions at the sight of me crumbling so quickly. "I know, okay? I know it hurts, but we're not gonna be able to save him if you keep holding on. So you gotta let go, alright?"

He's right. I have to let go. If I keep holding onto him, then he's not going to be helped. I had to let go.

I've already caused enough damage, I thought. The least I can do is let him be saved.

"Okay..." I whimpered, blinking out a few tears as I finally removed my arms from his chest. As soon as I did so, Minho, Frypan and Gally leapt into action, carefully maneuvering his body off of me as the three of them skillfully wrapped their arms around his two legs, Frypan holding his arms as they hoisted him into the air.

Something about seeing Newt hovering over the solid ground, limp in the hands of my friends destroyed a part of my soul. I couldn't begin to imagine how he'd make it through this. There was no element in my brain that told me that this would all be okay, and that he'd be back to normal in a few short months if we just get Newt on the Berg. I saw absolutely no end to the pain that Newt and I would be enduring.

I placed my hands on either side of my waist and hoisted myself up onto my feet. The boys were starting to swiftly move in the direction they came from, Gally holding up his gun as he cradled Newt's ankle under his arm. I started rubbing the tops of my thighs up and down, needing friction on the palms of my hands. My chest was rising and deflating at a quickening speed, the anxiety starting to seep through the cracks I thought were closed.

I've ruined everything.

Turning on my heel, I was able to see as Brenda made her way over to me, still clutching the serum in her hands as though she didn't know what to do with it. When she saw my distress, her features softened, and she grabbed my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes.

"Mae, calm down. It's okay. We need to get to the Berg quickly, okay? Newt is going to be just fine if we get him there. Do you hear me?" Her voice was strong, contrasting with the soft look on her face. Feeling her hands grip my arms, my eyes darted across her features to see any hint of a lie, anything that would side with my overpowering haunting thoughts. But I saw none, giving me the discomfort as well as the anxiety.

"Come on." She mumbled when I didn't respond. Her arm flung around my shoulders as I clutched at my stomach, feeling as though I was going to be sick. It felt as though all of our history was swirling in a ball inside of me, all of the things that defined us, topped off with all of my selfishness and reckless actions.

I shut my eyes and let her lead me through the madness of the city.

The thoughts echoed in my head; a little voice that had been haunting me for a long time, I just had no time to pay any attention to it. It had always been in the back of my mind, Ever since the day that I first entered the Maze. There was a darkness in me that I had no idea how to deal with. I didn't want anyone else to know about that darkness because I felt as though that I needed to deal with it alone. It was my fault the darkness was there in the first place.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as civilians screamed on either side of us, ignoring the fact that we were practically the reason this all started. The WICKED guards were distracted in the battle that took place in the heart of the city, orange smoke filling what used to be a clear sky, where you could see and feel the shine of the moon on your skin.

Now there was no moon.

There weren't even any stars.

I opened my eyes to see my friends struggle with holding Newt in the air, Minho adjusting the grip on his top half, while Frypan and Gally still tucked his ankles underneath their arms. I choked out a breath at the sight, looking down at my feet moving at a staggered pace across the shards of broken glass from buildings that had been demolished. All the destruction was almost a sign of what my actions have caused. Despite leaving for the good of Newt, and for his health, I destroyed the foundation that we had built together.

I let him go down without me.

"We're almost to the tunnels, Mae!" I heard Brenda yell to my right as she hoisted my arm over her shoulder, helping me walk as I continued to stare at the ground and hold my stomach. All of my emotions were a swirling tornado inside me, it physically hurt. That, on top of the bruises that were starting to form.

The image of seeing Newt with his eyes closed, laying in between my legs with a knife lodged in his abdomen would not rid itself from my brain. The color had drained from his face as quickly as all the hope did from me, the black and blue veins a sign of what he had become. His smile had disappeared; the thing that had brought so much happiness to everyone. The little creases that would form between his eyebrows when he reached that joy were now nothing but smooth skin. The man that he once was replaced by the unpredictable virus that he had turned into broke my heart.

I closed my eyes once again, letting my lip quiver as I shook my head, starting to feel the regret and remember my blunt actions as nothing but reckless and so selfish.

In frustration, I lifted the arm that was wrapped around my stomach and brought it up to my face, wiping the sweat from my brow and out of my line of sight. It seemed as though I was wiping away all of the memories that Newt and I had together as well. Every laugh, every smile, every tear, I wiped it all away from my mind.

He was the only one that really saw me for who I was despite all of the emotional wounds. Who knew what I suffered with in my mind and accepted it for what it was. Newt took that darkness and instead of trying to make it better immediately, he sat in the darkness with me until I was strong enough to get out of it. Only then would he come out too. Now it's all gone because I demolished it.

I have no one to blame but myself—I deserve to feel the grief.

"We're here!"

The voice caused me to open my eyes once again, not knowing how we got to the tunnels so fast. I had let Brenda walk me through the city because I could hardly hold myself up anymore. The grief was beginning to envelop me as I took one step at a time, moving upward towards the Berg.

"Brenda!" My head turned at the familiar voice, only to see Jorge running from the back of the ship just as Minho and the rest of the guys stepped in, shouting for help from anyone who was within hearing distance.

Jorge ran up to Brenda, quickly scanning her over with his eyes to look for any signs that she was hurt as well. Once he saw that she was in good condition, the man shifted his eyes to me, his face softening when he saw how much distress I was in. I wasn't trying to hide it—my entire world had crumbled within my arms.

"Mae, are you okay?" He asked me, voice quivering as he took my other arm over his shoulder and began to lead me to the back of the Breg. I couldn't respond, I couldn't even think properly. My mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts of things I wish I could have done colliding with my regrets and worst fears.

"Wait, where's Thomas and Teresa?"

The question pulled me out of the void as I shot my head towards Brenda, who was frantically looking around as she clutched my belt loop not only to keep me up, but as an emotional destresser. I followed her action as we continued to walk towards the Berg, allowing my sight to move from one direction to the other. My neck ached as I searched for Thomas, and the girl who had helped me get this far. But the only thing that I was able to see was the smoke and debris of the falling city—the two were nowhere in sight.

"Shit." Brenda cussed between her teeth. I looked at her and saw the tears that had built up in her eyes, she was probably feeling as bad as any of us. This day had been a disaster, as well as this plan we spent so much time coming up with. Now the plan was simply to not let anyone die and get out of the city before it blew to shambles.

I lowered my head and kept my mouth shut, allowing them to carry me the rest of the way to the Berg. My entire body throbbed, like my heart had grown a thousand times bigger overnight and was going to explode.

The remorse I had was eating me alive, I ruined everything that Newt and I had built up over these past months. It was hard to believe it had only been a few months since I'd known him—it felt like years. But all the trust, all of the promises that we had made; it was all thrown down the drain because of one selfish action.

I thought I was helping him. All I did was waste what could be the last few precious moments of his life. I should've spent them with him.

That was what he wanted after all.

Now, I was left to feel the terrible emotions that I should. I was left to let the darkness consume me like a storm, and I simply stood still. I was tired of delaying the inevitable. Nothing in my brain told me that everything was going to be okay, I messed up so bad and I needed to accept the fact that there was a chance that he couldn't be fixed. He probably wouldn't even look at me again.

"Vince! A hand?"

The name was the only thing that made me open my eyes. Vince turned around as Brenda and Jorge attempted to lead me up the sitars to the ship, needing assistance once they saw the man. But as soon as my grief-ridden eyes met with his confused and disturbed ones, my wall broke down.

I ripped my arms out of Brenda and Jorge's grasp, immediately pushing them away from me as I fell forward onto the steps. I let out an uneasy whimper as my legs gave out from underneath me, and I clutched my stomach. Raising my head once again, I saw that Vince was now rushing down the ramp, running towards us as hands gripped my sides to help me back to my unsteady feet. As though all the strength had returned in me, I grunted and hoisted myself up, desperation fueling my actions.

"Mae!" Vince called for me, and I took a few staggered steps forward, my eyes now welling with tears as he continued to run, arms wide open as he engulfed me in a warm embrace.

I shut my eyes again as I buried my head into his shoulder, holding onto my father figure as a lifeline now. The tears freely flew down my cheeks, and my chest rose up and down in the repercussion of my racing heart and pressing throat. My arms clutched the back of his jacket as he held onto me, his unsteady breaths rolling down my neck in just the same amount of pain as me. Vince willingly let me walk into this madness—he's probably feeling the same way I was.

"It's my fault, Vince..." I sobbed into his shoulder, peeling my eyes open just in time to see Minho, Gally, and Frypan enter the Berg few meters ahead of us. Another cry escaped my lips. "I ruined everything, he's not gonna wake up. I lost him."

"You didn't lose him. He's gonna be fine." Vince whispered back, voice mixing with my whimpers and shaky spurts of breaths. I shook my head, but he ignored it, wrapping his arms tighter around my torso and pulling up so that I was no longer on the ground. I didn't even notice that he was carrying me into the Berg until the white fluorescent lights surrounded me, mixed with panicked yells coming from all around.

I forced my aching eyes open, hiding the rest of my face in Vince's shoulder as he turned around, setting me down on a bench near one of the walls. I sucked in a harsh breath as he pulled away, and I reluctantly lifted my arms from around his neck. All I needed was security right now; a simple hug.

Vince bent down to his knees as the shouts began to increase around us, people frantically running to help or bring something to the scene. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to peer over Vince's shoulder to see what was going on. In all my distress, I temporarily forgot about Newt, and the state he was in. I was so focused on my regret and physical pain that I didn't even think to help him. He was dying, and I was just sitting here.

"Are you okay?" Vince asked me again, causing my eyes to dart towards him for a second as I continued to try and peer over his shoulder and the bodies of the others who surrounded Newt. "Nothing's hurt? Why were Brenda and Jorge carrying you?"

I opened my mouth, but words seemed to fail me. My focus was solely on Newt, and his condition as someone tossed a gauze behind their backs, throwing it out of the way. The gauze seemed to be rolling in slow motion towards Vince and I, stopped only by the leg of the wooden bench I sat on.

I wanted to scream. To run out of the Berg. To cry. But the only thing I could think to do when I saw the blood red gauze right next to my feet, was stare at it. Frozen, my eyes settled on the piece of cloth that held Newt's blood, almost teasing me. It was mocking me, reminding me that I was the one to do this to him. That I was the reason he was hurt so bad. If I had just stayed a little longer than maybe it wouldn't have to be like this—that I wouldn't be staring at a cloth soaked in his blood at my feet.

This is all my fault.

But somewhere in my dark mind, something told me that I needed to see the damage I did. That I needed to get up and look at the person I loved more than anything in this world. That I needed to feel so much worse than I already did.

So I listened.