The One I Love || Newt-TMR

Chapter 35

A thrill of excitement and anticipation rushed through me as I heard Newt over the deafening alarm, but at the same time fear froze me to the ground, and I couldn't will my body to move.
So many questions ran through my head that it began to pound with an intensity, but that could have just been from the blaring alarm.
Will it be another girl, or boy? What are they gonna look like? How old will they be? What if there isn't anybody in there?
I held onto my tongue as I waited for either the alarm to stop, or Newt to say something else. When neither happened, I decided to speak up.
"Why aren't we going down?" I yelled over the noise that seemed to come from everywhere, but nowhere in particular at the same time. It was as of the whole this was just in my head.
"Bloody Greenie won't be here till another half hour! That's just the signal." As Newt explained, the alarm was cut off abruptly, leaving only the high ringing in my ears proof that it was actually there.
I watched Newt as his lips moved, but I heard no noise other than the high pitched ringing in my ears.
"What?" I asked, probably much louder than what was required.
"I said come on!" Newt repeated much louder. I nodded, showing that I heard and began to follow him out of the Medjack's room.
"Hold up!" I exclaimed, coming to a holy and pulling Newt to face me. He looked down into my hazel eyes with confusion laced through his features as I pulled his face down and close to mine.
With a gentle touch, I brushed a stray tear away from beneath Newt's eye and brushed his hair to the side, neatening it up some.
Standing back to admire my work, a smile played at the corner of my lips as Newt remained frozen from confusion, his head still bowed down and eyebrows  pulled closely together.
"There, you look much better." I chirped proudly, letting my hands rest on my hips as Newt finally stood up straight.
"Thanks. Here..." Newt said gratefully as this time he leaned down close and brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear. I looked up at him, giving him a 'really?' kind of look, only for him to reply with:
"I like it better when you have your hair out of your face; I can see your eyes better." He explained with a small smile. I felt my cheeks turn a rosy pink shade as a light giggle escaped my lips, a light bubbly feeling bursting within me.
"You need to go to work." I murmured quietly, smiling up at Newt.
"So do you." He replied with a cheeky grin. I could tell he wasn't thinking straight by the look in his eyes, and felt an indescribable feeling spread through me.
"I am at work. I'm actually trying to send a patient back to their job."
"Why such an early start Miss Rosie?" Newt asked, mimicking my tone.
"I had an important patient to attend to. He desperately needed my help with a terrible hangover." I answered as I ran a hand through my damp hair.
"Is that what we're calling it?"
"Yes it is. Now I suggest that you get straight to work right this instance Mr. Newt, otherwise you will have worse than a hangover." I threatened with a smirk, lightly shoving Newt towards the door.
"Okay, I'm going. I'll come and get you in a half hour." Newt promised as he walked through the doorway. Just as he did so, Clint walked past. They shared their morning greetings, and continued on about their day.
"Good morning Rosie. Excited for today?" Clint asked as he began to set up his station.
"Sought of. I kind of feel sick from all the emotions: I'm kinda missing being the Greenie." I admitted with a nervousness chuckle.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. You are tougher than most of the shanks here." Clint remarked with a kind smile.

The rest of the half hour went by slower than ever as my stomach twisted and churned with a mixer of anticipation and fear. My heart almost missed a beat when I saw Newt finally walk through the door.
"Time has come Gree- uh Rosie." Newt corrected, waiting at the doorway for me as always. As I walked over to join Newt, he noticed the hang of my lips and droop of my eyes,
"What's gotcha down?" He asked, half genuinely and half joking.
"I kind of missing being the Greenie." I sulked, looking up at Newt through long eyelashes.
Newt's crooked smirk twitched the corners of his lips up as he spoke.
"That's okay, you'll always be my Greenie. That can be my nickname for you." I suggested.
"Okay." I answered with a bright blush, looking down to cover it up. Newt's hand slipped under my chin and pulled my head up to look in his eyes.
"That is, if you would like."
"Yeah, I'd like that." I confirmed, biting my lip.
"You bit your lip. You lying?" Newt looked down at me like a mother would to her child.
"I didn't bite my lip because I'm lying." I breathed, walking past Newt and out the door before I could reveal anymore.
It had been quite a while since someone asked about Newt and I, which I was thankful for. But I just couldn't shake this feeling I had when I was around him, and it just made me wonder whether there really was something there.
It was strangely familiar though, as much as Newt was to me. It came whenever we were alone, and in a deep conversation; watching each others movements closely. The constant urge to lean in and embrace nagged at the back of my mind; it was instinct almost.
In those moments, I'd remember the dreams I'd had where Newt and I would express our love with words; and actions.
They were dreams. And that's how they will bloody stay, nothing more. I'd tell myself as I felt my body inch closer towards his.
And that's what I kept telling myself, until the thought that Newt and I dated became a distant memory. But everytime I'd get the same feeling of pure ecstasy when we laughed together. Similar to the feeling you get when you help someone, and see how happy it makes them; that overwhelming warmth that made strange giggles rock your body was what confused me.
I couldn't like Newt, could I? But there was no voice to reprimand me. Just the bubbly warmth flushing through my cheeks and chest.
I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face, and was more than grateful that Newt couldn't see how flustered he had me.
I felt the wood beneath me thump up and down as Newt awkwardly jogged to catch up. We walked side be side down the stairs in silence until Newt stepped ahead and held the door open for me. My face scrunched up in a humoured confusion as I walked through, but I didn't question it.
"Thank you sir." I giggled, enjoying the warmth from the sun that made my skin tingle. It had only just peeked over the walls, and already had an intensity to it; but for now it was nice.
Newt nodded in response, a slight blush bringing more life to his face.
"What are you thinking right now?" I asked curiously as Newt walked up and we continued to walk towards the Box. From what I could tell, Newt had gotten me early because there were only a couple of boys milling about the edges of the Box; one of them being Alby.
"I'm not lookin' forward to this." He answered with a heavy sigh.
"Why?" I pushed.
"I don't like havin' to welcome the poor shank here. I don't like havin' to pretend that everything is fine here, when that's the furthest thing from it." He explained, seeming to be angry.
A bulging vein popped out from his arm as he clenched his fists together.
"Those shuck Creators just gotta destroy one more poor shanks life, don't they? Why can't they just be satisfied with the damage they've done here?" Newt gestured to the Glade around us, but I knew he meant the boys living inside it.
"I understand Newt, I really do. But there's nothing you can do until we escape the Maze; let your hate for the Creators fuel you to escape." I suggested, careful not to make things worse.
"So you're sayin' we have to play their bloody game in order to stop them?" Newt seethed.
"Unfortunately, yes." I muttered, looking down at the ground solemnly.
What the heck could have happened that has made people resort to sending teenagers into a deadly, unsolvable maze?
After a minute of silence, I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like when I was coming up through the Box. It still baffled me that a whole month had already passed; but what amazed me most was the fact that in such little time, I had changed so much.
I woke up with nothing; no memories, friends or even a name. Now I have all those things, and I'm about to watch some poor shank go through the same thing.
I had now become just like every other shank in the Glade, and was no longer the confused little Greenie that was always so scared, and asking a question a second.
"Is this what it was like when I came up?" I asked, my head swirling from just thinking. I kind of expected to see my frightened self huddled up in the Box.
"Yep. Strange ain't it? Just watchin' how it all happened before." Newt remarked, staring off absently.
"Yeah. I just hope they have someone like you to help them through the first month."
"If it's another buggin' girl I ain't having nothin' to do with her. You were challenge enough." Newt kidded, shooting me his crooked smile.
Rolling my eyes, I lightly shoved him and continued towards the Box. We were only a few metres away, and I could faintly hear the gears grinding and complaining as they delivered the newest Greenie.
"They actually will." Newt admitted, all humour from our the previous conversation gone, replaced with a kind smile.
"What do ya mean?"
"Well traditionally the previous Greenie gets the job of looking after the Newbie." Newt explained as we stood on the edge of the Box doors.
"But what about me?" I questioned, confused.
"Well that was only because you're the only girl, and I didn't trust the last Greenie to be responsible around you." Newt remarked as he folded his arms and stared straight ahead.
"Why wouldn't he be responsible around me?" I asked innocently. Newt looked down at me from the corner of his eye, a 'seriosuly?' look etched into his features.
"For one you're the first girl any of these boys have seen for as long as they can remember, and when you walk around lookin' like that, you gotta expect someone to lose control of themselves." Newt muttered the last part. Confused still, I looked down at me clothes. I was wearing short denim jeans that came halfway up my thighs, and a plain white tank top.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, a little offended.
"Nothing. It just looks too good on you." Newt barely breathed the last part, but a sudden breeze blew my way, and I heard it all the same. A bright blush formed along my cheeks as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
I waited around for another five minutes anxiously thinking before the Box finally came to a jolting stop.
What if I can't help them like Newt helped me? What the hell am I supposed to tell them? What if they try to run into the Maze?
The questions just kept running through my mind as I watched Alby and Newt jerk two metal doors upwards, probably blinding the poor shank down there.
With a loud creak of complaint, the two boys let the doors drop to the ground and stepped to look in.
By now nearly everybody in the Glade had gathered to get a look at the new Greenie, with people shuffling and pushing about to get a better look.
I watched Alby and Newt in anticipation as they shared a glance that said nothing, but everything at once. They looked, worried?
"Rosie!" Newt waved me over. It took a second for my body to respond with my brain, and soon enough I was slowly, anxiously walking towards Newt.
I fiddled with my hands as I walked up to Newt and Alby, my brow pulled up with worry.
"Yes?" My voice came out a tiny squeak, like a little mouse.
"Would you like to do the honours?" Alby asked in a bored tone, as if he wished to be anywhere but there.
I gulped down all the anxiety and worry that was plaguing my body, standing up straight and pushing my shoulders back I spoke up in a more adult tone.
"Okay." I said with as much confidence as I could manage.
Alby and Newt both nodded in agreement and stepped aside, allowing me to peer over the edge of the Box.
I let out a breath as I jumped and let myself fall into the Box. I managed to land on my feet and maintain my balance as I stood back up.
A million thoughts rushed through my head as I heard the muffled whimper echo behind me. I spun around, not knowing what to expect. I'd have to say I'd expected to see a baby Griever in the corner of the Box  rather than a young boy.
Just like I had, the poor boy was tightly curled up in the corner, his curly mopped hair curtaining his face as he buried it in his knees.
A wave of empathy rolled over me, and it was like I was a different person. Like mother  to her child, I rushed over and knelt down to comfort him. He cried out in fear and scrambled to get away from me. That sent a cacophony of snickers and giggles up the top, to which were silenced by what I could guess was one of Alby's deathly glares.
The small boy tried to stand and run, however the Box swung with the momentum and sent the boy back to the ground.
He landed on his face, and quickly shuffled up against the opposite wall, his honey brown eyes filled with terror.
It was the first time I actually got a good look at the poor shank. His deep chocolate brown hair formed into ringlets as the fell across his flittering, teary eyes. He had a small, slightly crooked nose with freckles scattered across his red, chubby cheeks.
From what I could tell, he looked to be 12, his short, chubby frame quivering with fear.
My heart seemed to melt as I took in the boys appearance, and I knew that I would do all I could to protect this poor little boy from any harm.
"Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." I said in a quiet, soothing voice. I knelt down and slowly approached the boy until I was a metre away. His chest rose and sunk with quick, shallow breaths as I sat down across from him. A few tears rolled down his cheek as he looked at me.
"My name is Rosie. Now before I explain any more, could you tell me your name?" The boy seemed to think for a moment, his eyes glancing between me and the open space above us. I glanced up to see numerous faces peering over the edge.
"Don't worry, they're not gonna hurt you either. I promise." He shook his head, and returned his attention back to me.
"I-I'm Chuck." He peeped, his voice much higher than I would have though it to be.
"Okay, hi Chuck. I know there's a lot going through your head right now. And I promise that you will get answers soon enough, but only if you stay calm, okay?" Chuck shook his head quickly, making his curly hair bounce up and down.
"Good that. First, let me explain what is happening to you. You have woken up in what we call the Box. Everyone here has gone through what you are right now. I was the person before you. And every time, we wake up with no memories; just our name. Did that happen to you?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet and soft. With a few more tears, Chuck answered.
"Yes. Why can't I remember anything?" He sobbed, wiping away the tears. Just hearing his quivering, frightened voice made me want to cry with Chuck.
"We don't know. All we know is that we only remember our names. And the rest will be explained over time. I'm going to look after you though Chuck. If you have any question, just ask me. I just need to warn you, when you get outside, try not to freak out. Here." I handed him my hand, and he slowly and hesitantly took it. I pulled him to his feet, keeping him stable.
"Just climb up these boxes, and Newt will help you up." I explained, ushering Chuck over to a set of boxes set up like stairs.
Chuck looked back at me with fearful eyes, and I could tell what he was asking.
"No one is going to hurt you Chuck, I promise. Especially not Newt." And with that he began to climb up the boxes.
I heard Alby order everyone to stand back as Chuck reached up. A pair of hands reached down and helped Chuck out of the Box. I could only watch as he spun around, staring at the giant walls boxing him in.
Deciding it was time to help Chuck, I quickly climbed the boxes and pulled myself out, just like a month ago, only this time I wasn't scared to death.
Newt was right there to stand by me as Chuck craned his neck to look around, taking in his new home.
"He looks like a pile of klunk." Someone snickered. I found the boy and glared at him, making him shut up right away.
"Whe-where am I?" Chuck whimpered, talking to no one in particular.
"Welcome to the Glade." Alby greeted in his usual dead tone.