The healer [The maze runner Newt x OC]

Chapter thirteen

Grace slept outside of the West door with about ten to fifteen other Gladers, including the Keepers and Runners. She was curled up in Newt's side, his arm around her waist to hold her close to his body. The sound of the doors opening at 6 am woke her up quickly, rubbing her eyes while shaking Newt awake. ''Newt, wake up.''

The corridor was empty, Newt turning to Chuck. ''Told you Chuck, they're not coming back.'' He spoke with a soft voice while pulling Grace into his side, kissing the side of her head. Other Gladers started to walk away, but then, Zart spoke. ''No way.''

''Yeah! Yes!'' Chuck cheered as Grace turned too, running back to the front of the group with Jeff and Clint, ready to do their jobs, quickly taking Alby's weight. ''We've got him, we've got him!'' They placed him down on the ground, quickly examining him. ''What happened out there?''

''How did you guys make it out?''

''You saw a Griever?'' Chuck questioned as Grace turned to Minho, taking a look at him as well while Thomas nodded. ''Yeah, I saw one.''

''He didn't just see it. He killed it.'' 

Grace and Jeff stayed behind while Clint followed the others to the Gathering. As he was the Keeper of the Medjacks, he had to be there. So, Grace and Jeff stayed behind to care for Alby while he was going through the Changing. 

The two of them were working when Alby woke up, his eyes disoriented as Grace turned to him. ''Hey, Alby, how are you feeling?'' He stared at her for a moment, not speaking or even blinking before speaking. ''Where's Thomas?''

''At the Gathering, why?''

''Get Thomas.''

''I don't know how long-

''Get Thomas!'' 

''Jeff, can you send Chuck to get him, please?'' Jeff nodded at the girl, leaving the Medjack hut intending to find Chuck.

Newt had stepped into the room and was motioning for Thomas to follow. "Is he asleep?" Thomas whispered. "I don't know," Newt said quietly. He walked over and sat in a wooden chair next to the bed. Thomas took a seat on the other side. 

Grace stood around the corner, watching the interaction from afar, not wanting to interrupt. 
"Alby," Newt whispered. Then more loudly: "Alby. Chuck said you wanted to talk to Tommy."
Alby's eyes fluttered open—bloodshot orbs that glistened in the light. He looked at Newt, then across at Thomas. With a groan he shifted in the bed and sat up, his back against the headboard. "Yeah," he muttered, a scratchy croak.

"Chuck said you were thrashin' around, acting like a loonie." Newt leaned forward. "What's wrong? You still sick?" Alby's next words came out in a wheeze, as if every one of them would take a week off his life.

"Everything's ... gonna change.... The girl ... Thomas ... I saw them ..." His eyelids flickered closed, then open again; he sank back to a flat position on the bed, stared at the ceiling. "Don't feel so good."

"What do you mean, you saw—" Newt began.

"I wanted Thomas!" Alby yelled, with a sudden burst of energy that sent Grace to take a few steps back before walking up to Newt. "I didn't ask for you, Newt! Thomas! I asked for freaking Thomas!" 
Newt looked up, questioned Thomas with a raising of his eyebrows. Thomas shrugged at him while Grace placed a hand on his shoulder. ''Newt ... ''

"Fine, ya grouchy shuck," Newt said. "He's right here—talk to him."'

"Leave," Alby said, his eyes closed, his breathing heavy.

"No way—I wanna hear."

"Newt, Grace." A pause. "Leave. Now." 

"But—" Newt protested.