Answers // Mazerunner

5 - In which we learn

It was deadly quiet, nothing but silence hanging in the air.

"Why-" Clint shook his head, trying hopelessly to understand, "why does he want to- kill you?"

Lucie's eyes stayed trained on the sleeping boy's body. "I don't know, why don't we ask him?" A small sigh escaped her and drifted off in the cold air.

"No," Clint said. Lucie threw a questioning glance at him. "He," Clint stopped again, taking a breath, " he tried to , y'know, kill himself" Lucie could feel her eyes grow wide as she looked at Clint, who was shuffling his feet on the floor.

"He tried to kill himself and now he wants to kill me?" Her voice was shaking and her heartbeat was pulsing a frantic rhythm in her ears. "Oh god."

For a second, she could hear nothing but the pounding of her heat in her ears. The room seemed suddenly a little blurry, and then it became almost too clear. Questions raced through her head, forming a continuous river of words wanting to pour out of her in a great waterfall, but just one stood out to her. "Why?"

Clint closed his eyes, gripping the table, "Why did he kill himself?" Lucie nodded, shuffling backwards slightly.

"He- It's a bit strange. We're not quite sure, but he said that there was this girl-"

Lucie gasped a little, "There are other girls?" He lowered his eyes to the floor and began to study the wooden pattern as he gulped slowly.

"No. There never were," Clint seemed sure of this, like it was an absolute in the chaos. "Never any girls. We think that WICKED have done something to him, made him mad. Or maybe we're all going mad, either way, you're being here is perhaps not so good."

Lucie laughed nervously, "No, the first girl albeit one imaginary one whose boyfriend wants to kill me. Perhaps I had better just go home y'know."

A small smile traced Clint's lips, as shrugging he began to go back to his tasks. "You can look after yourself though."

Lucie let a nervous giggle, "We better hope so huh?" Clint just grinned back at her and pulled her into a hug. She could smell the earth on his clothes mixed with the scent of medicine and bandages and it wrapped around her and drew it her in. In a strange way, it smelt like the home she couldn't remember having.

When he pulled back, there were tears in Lucie's eyes. Immediately his forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh no no no," Clint shuffled anxiously, "Come on, you'll be okay, I'll look after you." All Maddy could do was nod sheepishly and wipe away a few stray tears.

"Sorry," mumbling, she looked down, "Sorry, I just-" He tilted his head to the side a little and rolled his eyes. "Don't say sorry, I was much worse," he chortled.

"Sick at least twice, and I wet myself." She giggled at him and gently hit him on the arm. "Thank you. And I bet you wet yourself more than once," she teased him, running around the room away from him.

Quickly, Clint dashed round behind her, easily catching her in his arms, making her giggle and fall over. He began to tickle her and as laughter erupted from her and filled the room, it all went wrong.

"Maddy?" A small voice called. It sounded weak, feeble, like someone who was lost, who couldn't find home, who'd given himself up for somebody else. Clint grimaced, motioning for Lucie to be quiet.

"H-hey Newt," his voice quaked shakily, "A-are you okay?" From where she was crouched on the floor, she could only see the boy's back, but Clint could see the anger, the fear, the indisputable sadness in his eyes, in everything. "Where's Maddy?"

"Newt-," He took a deep breath, "Newt, I'm so sorry, but Maddy's gone."