*One year later*

Wind chimes.

The high pitched dinging was something that sounded so far away, muffled as though my ears were water logged. It was as though someone was banging on a wine glass on top of my head, but I was laying underneath a blanket. The chimes kept ringing, an alarm yelling at me to wake up. The sound became clearer as I rose to consciousness.

Waves.

Clashing of waves mixed with the chimes, creating a peaceful sound that only frightened me. Keeping my eyes pinched shut, I began to breathe harder through my nose, unsure of where I was and where the sound was coming from. It was hitting every side of my head, surrounding my body and making me feel claustrophobic despite not seeing anything. The sounds were clear as I continued to try and calm myself down, fear of the unknown starting to tear at my mind.

Voices.

I could hear the soft murmurs from strangers outside, but I couldn't process the words they were saying. It sounded farther away than the wind chimes and the waves, but they were there. Laughter echoed into the area I was in, mixed with the clanking of tools—it sounded like they were hitting it against wood. What could someone possibly be doing by hitting a tool against wood?

Music.

Music was playing softly in the background, an old song that I didn't recognize. The voices were hardly able to be heard through the hum of the waves, and the chimes, but I could tell it was there, adding to the calmness of this situation. The guitar strummed a nice tune, while the voices sang words I wasn't really paying attention to.

My mind began to wake as I stayed, listening to the peaceful sounds of the wind chimes and the music, letting the curiosity roam as to who could be talking and where they were. I didn't have the strength to open my eyes just yet, the fear of what I might see keeping me from doing so. Was I at WICKED? Was this just one of their simulations that I was about to fall for? If I kept my eyes shut, then they would know that I was still unconscious, and they wouldn't try to hurt me.

"Nah, I'll give that to Mae, she probably needs it more than I do..."

Mae.

At the name, I slowly opened my eyelids, blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the light. It was dim, casting an orange glow through the room I was in. This meant it wasn't morning; if it was, the light would be brighter, and it would be hot instead of cool. My eyes finally adapted to the shine, and I was able to see a ceiling.

It wasn't a ceiling like I was used to, concrete like in the camp, or wooden like the ones we had in the Maze. Was it bamboo? I always wondered what bamboo looked like, the only thing we had to work with in the Maze was wood from the trees we cut down, or the materials that were brought up in the Box. But I was staring at a bamboo ceiling, and the sounds from outside continued.

Where's Mae? Is she hurt? Is she okay? Three questions swam around my confused mind as I kept blinking, laying flat while staring at the ceiling. I breathed through my nose, for my lips were sealed shut from not being open for so long. I had no idea how many days I was out for, but it couldn't have been that long, right? My eyes darted around the room, trying to perceive what I could without having to move.

Looking to my left, I was able to see a small, waist height dresser that looked as though someone had put a lot of time building it. It wasn't made out of bamboo like the ceiling, but instead regular wood. On top of it, was a few glasses half filled with water, a tissue box sitting next to them. Some clothes hung out of the drawers like someone hadn't had the time to put them back properly. Next to the dresser, was a wooden rocking chair. A small pillow accompanied it, sitting contently on the seat as though it hadn't been touched. Why was there a rocking chair in here?

When my eyes started to become sore from looking in one direction for so long, I moved them, now glancing to the right. A nightstand was beside the head of the bed—the closest thing to me right now. On it, was a tray. I would have to sit up in order to see what was laying on the tray, so I shook it off. A few crumbled up tissues sat near it, looking for the trash. I wasn't the one who wiped my nose with the tissues, so who had been in here? Where even am I?

On the right side as well, was a few more chairs. They didn't have the privilege of being able to rock like the one on my left, but they were there and they were empty. I wonder who was sitting in them—or were they just for decoration? The radio sat on the one closest to the door, which was right in front of my bed. There was no barrier to the entrance of the room, just a human sized hole that anyone could walk through at any time. That must be why I'm feeling the breeze so strong. A small set of cabinets sat above the seats, one gently blowing with the breeze, creating a soft slam every time the wind blew into the room.

It was peaceful in here, simple. But the peace didn't calm be one bit as I began to wonder where I was again, the last things I remembered making their way into my mind.

I remembered going crazy. Feeling the disease take control of my mind and my body was something I never wanted to experience, and it's the last thing I remembered. I don't know how long ago it was that I completely lost myself, but the fact that I did terrified me. I hope Thomas was okay, he's the last face I saw before everything seemed to go dark. I remembered going into WICKED, and finding Minho. Jumping out of a building and seeing Mae again. I remembered her leaving to get the cure for me. I hope she's okay. I hope she didn't get captured, or worse. If she did, I knew I would feel bloody awful, and probably blame everything on myself even though I know that's not what she would've wanted. I need to see if she's okay. She has to be okay.

I closed my eyes once again, mentally gaining the strength to move one of my limbs, any limb, even if it was just a finger. I felt like I was a floating head right now, like a body wasn't even attached. But I could still feel the cotton sheets beneath my fingers. So that's what I tried to move first.

I twitched my middle finger about an inch into the air, sighing through my nose of relief when I could see it move upwards out of the corner of my eye. Next, all of my fingers. I lifted all of my fingers up, mentally cringing at the stiffness that I felt. I don't know how long I haven't moved my body, but it must've been a while. I moved my hand up after, praising myself on being able to still function.

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I closed my eyes and attempted to move my arm up. It was bloody heavy, surprising me. I snapped my eyes open again, taken aback by the soreness that was caused from an action that should be so simple. I kept moving my limb upward, inch by inch while trying not to make any noise at the pain. It felt like my muscles were being stretched for the first time in ages, surely somebody cared enough to keep me loose during the time I was out...but it bloody hell didn't seem like it. Once I brought my arm a few inches into the air, level with my shoulder, I let it flop back down onto the bed, and I immediately sighed in relief.

No matter how badly this was gonna hurt, I couldn't just spend the rest of my life laying down on this bed, staring at the interesting bamboo ceiling.

Moving both arms so they were at ninety degree angles, I clenched my teeth behind my closed lips, pushing my body upwards so that I was now sitting up. My stomach contracted as I used my muscles that I haven't used in ages, leaning back against my hands. From this position, my head immediately refused the decision that I made of waking up, for the room began to spin. I shut my eyes again, hunching my back over and rubbing my eyelids with my balled up hands.

I blinked, shaking the dizziness off. I furrowed my brows when I saw the strange outfit I had somehow changed into. It wasn't the WICKED uniform like I had expected to be in, but instead a grey flannel. It was buttoned up to the middle of my chest, like someone had gotten too lazy to finish the rest. I removed one of my arms from my lap, lifting up the light bedsheet that was still covering my body. On the bottom half, I was wearing black shorts that stopped right before they reached my knees. I cringed, wondering who put me in these clothes. Surely they would bother to make them look a bit more stylish... At least they weren't the grubs I had on in the Maze, or the uniform.

Lifting my head up again, I was finally able to see the view out of the makeshift door that allowed access to my room. It was something I'd never seen before—the source of the wind chimes and waves I was hearing. Outside, the sky was nearing nightfall, meaning that the voices were probably getting ready to go in for dinner. The waves were an effect of the sea that calmly sat outside this room, washing onto the sand-filled shore, and retreating every couple seconds. Wind chimes hung from the empty door frame, near the radio. This whole room reeked of serenity, far from anything that I've experienced in days past. I still didn't know how long I was asleep for, but I had never known peace like this.

Am I dead?

Laughter suddenly roared from outside as I furrowed my eyebrows and lifted my chin up, trying to see through the window who was making the noise. It began to grow louder until a body suddenly appeared in the empty doorway. Fear struck me so quickly that I inched backwards, trying to lay back down while the person was still looking at their feet, dusting the sand off of them before he entered. He looked young, maybe ten or eleven. He was wearing sandals, a red collard shirt that was unbuttoned completely with brown kaki shorts on. His hair was curly, like Chuck's, but he was skinny. I'd never seen this kid in my life.

He was holding a tray in his hands, much like the one that was on the nightstand next to me. It had a half full glass of water on it, along with what looked like a sandwich on a plate. I stared at him as he hummed along with the song that played, in his own world as I sat there, wondering what in the bloody hell he was doing.

"Listen to the river sing sweet songs to rock my—" He lifted his head, immediately freezing when he saw that I was awake. He stared at me, mouth open wide, and I stared back at him, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely horrified, like I was some sort of monster or something. Maybe I should say something to prove that I wasn't.

I quietly turned my head to the side and cleared my dry throat, sticking my tongue in between my chapped lips to moisten them. Turning back to the boy, I gave him a small, comforting smile. The best one I could manage with the anxiety and confusion that still prodded at my mind.

"Hello, I'm Ne—"

I didn't even finish my greeting before the boy dropped the tray, causing it to slam against the floor and spill out onto the sand. He turned on his heel, running down the two steps before sprinting away.

Maybe I had scared him, I don't know. My voice sounded so strange falling from my mouth, like I hadn't used it in ages. I furrowed my eyebrows before moving my hand up to my throat, gently rubbing it as though I knew something was wrong. Looking back down at the tray that the boy had dropped, I saw the shattered water glass. My eyes darted to the half empty glasses on the dresser—I needed to get a sip of water.

I threw the rest of the covers off of me, feeling my arm strength come back with each second. I didn't know if I was able to move my legs yet, I hadn't even tried it. I blew a huff of air out of my mouth before deciding just to do it. I lifted my bad leg into the air, immediately scrunching my face up in pain. My hands flew to my thigh, guiding it off of the bed as the bones in my back cracked from being stiff for so long. The muscles ached, I wasn't even sure if I would be able to bend my leg much less walk on it. When the limb was over the edge of the bed, I guided it down, doing the same thing to the other.

Now that I was sitting up, on the edge of the bed, ready to stand, I shook my head. I must've been out for longer than a couple days, or a few hours—I wouldn't feel like this if I was.

What the bloody shuck happened to me?

"I didn't know what to do, so I just left to come get you... I'm sorry."

I turned my head towards the entrance as footsteps sounded against the wood. The same kid I had scared away was standing behind someone I hadn't seen in what felt like ages, the hair flowing down to his shoulders now. His beard was the same—short, which suited him well. He was in a dark green long sleeved shirt with black cargo pants, way more stylish than what I seemed to be wearing.

Vince stared at me, and I stared back at him, not knowing what to say. He looked so surprised to see me up and moving, and that confirmed my belief that I had surely been knocked out for more than a couple days. His feet led him to take another step into the room, but it was as though he was scared to get too close, like I would pass back out at any second. My eyes darted from the small boy to him, seeing them hover so close to me was only feeding the tricks my mind was already playing on me.

"Am I dead?" I asked the only words I could think to say, and answer I needed to know before I went on with this conversation.

The man in front of me blinked. "I'm asking myself the same question right about now." Well that's bloody great to know, I thought. Rolling my eyes, I sat with my elbows on my knees, staring sideways at the two people as they stood still. Vince turned back to the kid. "Go get some dinner. Don't tell anyone about this, do you hear me?"

The child obeyed and nodded his head—something about this interaction reminded me of when Alby would ask Chuck to do something. He was always so quick to obey. I think Alby liked Chuck the most out of all of us for that exact reason.

He turned on his heel once again and walked out of the room this time as if to keep a casual demeanor. I looked back to Vince, confused and wondering why he had asked him to keep my awakening a secret. He walked backwards, moving towards the seat in the corner of the room. His hand reached up to turn the radio down, the song barely being audible now. Something about the look on his face told me that this wasn't what he was expecting, that he needed to focus in order to get his mind straight once again.

"H-How do you feel?" Was the first question he asked me. I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing how to respond to it. I felt fine, all except that I needed that glass of water very badly right now.

"Fine," I replied shortly. "I'm a bit sore in my legs, but other than that I feel good."

Vince nodded, turning his head to look out the window at the sea. I followed his line of sight with my eyes, he was acting so strange. There was nothing outside that needed to be cared for, except the beautiful view I could spend hours staring at. How did I even get here? Why is Vince here?

"Where's Mae?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to intrude on his moment.

Vince's head snapped back to me, like he had forgotten I was there. He blinked, shaking his head and adjusting himself in his seat while I awaited an answer. This interaction was awkward, but he was like a father figure for all of us. It only made sense that the little kid went and got him.

"She...She's probably eating right now." He nodded, and I did as well. "These past couple of months have been pretty hard on her, but all of us are making sure she's cared for and loved. So..."

"Why?" I didn't hesitate to ask. If Mae was having a hard time, then I would think it's something I should know about. Unless she didn't want to tell me, which I would be okay with. All I needed to know was if she was okay, and Vince wasn't giving me the satisfaction of the answer I so desperately needed. "Is she okay?"

He nodded once again. "Yeah, yeah she's alright. It's just...uhm..." He hesitated, and I raised my eyebrows, pushing for the answer. "You've been knocked out for a long time, Newt. It's been really hard on her. She's gone through a lot in that time, you know? I just think that it would be better for her to tell you, and not me."

I paused, letting his words sink in before I spoke again. My heart began to race as I started down the path of options of things she's been through. Whatever it was, I haven't been there to help her, and the regret started to fill the empty hole in my chest as soon as I started to think about it. I tried to remind myself that she was okay, and it wasn't my fault. I was unconscious—there's nothing I could do about that. But I wasn't there when she needed me like I always was before.

"How long?" I didn't know I had asked the question until I lifted my head, preparing myself for the answer.

Vince's face dropped, as if he was scared to tell me. I was practically begging him with my eyes, I needed to know. I needed to know how long I was isolated in this room, how long I was parted from all my friends, and Mae. From everything. It didn't even feel like I was out for a long time. It was like I had awoken from the best sleep of my life.

He shook his head and looked at his feet, avoiding my gaze. "I don't think it's a good idea to—"

"Vince, how long have I been asleep?" I interrupted his protest and stared back, not letting him divert the conversation to something different. I just wanted the bloody answer, no matter how bad it was.

"Well..." He began, and I turned towards him, ignoring the ache that pulsed through my body as I did so. "You were stabbed in the stomach when you became a Crank. You were going to go stab Thomas, but turned the knife on yourself last minute. It would've hit you right in the heart, Newt. But Mae came in from behind and gave you the cure. She...She must've hit your arm or something, because you were stabbed in the stomach instead of the heart."

I nodded, knowing that must've been when I was knocked out because I can't remember anything from that point on. I was listening to every single word that fell from his lips, holding onto it as though I would figure out the answer to the world's problems. My heart beat against my ribcages, anticipation beginning to destroy my patience. Tears began to rise on the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away, trying to show Vince that I was ready for the truth. However long I was out of it, I was back now, and I was still Newt.

I'm still Newt, but it felt as though Vince was talking to someone else, and not me.

"I guess all the chemicals in the cure, mixing with the stab knocked you right out. Your body was too overwhelmed. The enzymes in the cure were trying to get to your brain through the blood you were losing. So, you...uh...you entered a coma, and that's how you've been for a," He paused, and my heart clenched. "That's how you've been for a year."

A year.