Variables (The Maze Runner) WATTYS2016

Chapter 5

What comes up must come down. By the grim look on Newt's face, the knot in my gut confirmed my suspicions about his ideal way back down. He takes a step forward, toes reaching the edge of the cement wall, I have to do something.

"And what do you think you're doing you shank?" I yell up to him. Newt's eyes widen, he takes a few steps back in surprise at the sight of me.

"W-what are you doing here? Of all people why the hell is it you?"

"Goodmorning to you to." I fold my arms. "I hope you know that's not the way out."

"But it is," his knees start shaking, "don't you get it? There is no way out. We are stuck here."

"You can't just give up Newt. What if there is more to this? More to us?"

Newt scowls, shaking his head. "We are not important. I'm not important." His voice quivers.

"Yes we are, yes you are. You're the one who keeps everyone level headed. You are the glue holding these shanks together. You are the glue holding me together."

Newt frowns, confused.

"You keep me grounded, from making a fool out of myself or killing myself doing something stupid even though I hate you for it, or despise you really, but thats beside the point. Now its my turn to help you." I crane my neck to see him from the top of the towering wall. "Come down Newt. Please." My voice almost gives out.

Newt freezes, lowering his shaking body slowly down the wall. About halfway down he rests on a ledge, wiping sweat from his forehead. His eyes scan the drop, biting his lip he refuses to look at me.

"I just n-need to do this-" he shakes his head, fingers tugging at his hair, taking a step closer to the small ledge. "I can't j-just-"

"Newt-" I gasp, but he already jumped.

His body is falling through the air. Falling. Spirits falling. Hopes falling. The worst part is there are no good memories for him to cling on to, no words of love to fill his mind in his last moments, just him and his overwhelming thoughts of defeat.

He falls on the pavement. Silence. My heart is pounding in my ears, my throat closing in as I run over to him. I roll him over, his body limp.

"No, no, no. Newt," I hit his cheeks a few times trying to wake him. "Newt come on you shank," My voice cracks. I grab his arm, feeling for a pulse. The thumping against my finger send relief throughout my body. His chest rising slightly. He is breathing. "Wake up, fuck Newt come on."

"Language you bloody shank," he coughs, rolling over and clutching his head.

"Newt?" I grab his arm, making him flinch.

"I'm fine," he weakly sits up.

"Try not to be so careless next time," I mimic him.

"Not the time for jokes," he glares at me. He lifts himself up, but stumbles over when he tries to take a step, yelling out in pain and clutching the wall for support. "My ankle, I think I broke it."

"Does this mean I can call you limpy?" I smirk, making him shoot me a glare.

"If you aren't going to help me can you just go? Why are you here anyway? What do you want from me?" His tone is harsh and piercing.

"Hope."

"What?"

"I wanted hope. If you could get through your fear, then maybe I could to. A little hope isn't a bad thing you know." Part of me was surprised at the words coming out of my mouth, surprised that they felt true. Sometimes our body overrides our mind and doesn't allow our overthinking or uncertainty to block our emotions from showing. Sometimes our deepest thoughts that we try desperately to hide come out on their own accord.

"Well how did that work out for you?" He winces as he tries to take a step. I sling his arm around me to help hold him up. "I jumped off the wall, not much of an inspiration am I?"

"Well you're up now, aren't you? You're talking to me. You didn't give up, even if you think you did." I say softly.

Newt looks away from me, not acknowledging my words. Perhaps he is just not ready to accept his strength, or hope. I figure he needs some time alone with his thoughts so as we make our way out of the maze, Newt clutching to me for support, I make sure to stay silent.

The glade is still quiet, although morning is on its way. Only two or three gladers are already up and working, or sluggishly making their way over to get something to eat. Luckily it is still relatively dark so we manage to find a spot to sit on the edge of the homestead without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary had happened.

We sat in silence until the sun devoured the darkness of the night, and the glade began bustling with life. Newt places a hand on my knee, looking over at me with a softened expression.

"Rose-"

"I prefer Rosie-"

"Rosie," he rolls his eyes, "thank you." With that he pulls me in for a hug. as soon as my body find home in the warmth of his embrace, I feel myself losing focus. his grip on me loosens as my mind reverts to black, my eyes unable to see. Then there are flashes. Flashes of memories, snapshots of what looks like a young me. Sitting on the steps. Running through the yard. Crying holding the hand of a young boy. Sneaking down a barely lit hall. Newt. Then the flashes stop and my eyes come back into focus. Newt's arms are held out but no longer touching me, his eyes locked on something distant. Then he snaps back into focus.

"I- I remember you-" he stutters.

"Did you feel that too?" I whisper, taking a step back from him.

"I dont know how I remember you, or who you are, but I do remember you." his eyes revert back to me, searching me for something he won't find; the truth. "I should get to work."

"Newt?" I stand up as he begins to walk away. He turns around with raised eyebrows.

"Does this make us friends?"

He smirks, looking me up and down, "Not a chance shank."

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