SACRIFICE {Newt | The Maze Runner}

viii. Group B Reunited

Song: HIGH HOPES; panic! at the disco

GROANING, I lifted a hand to my forehead and attempted to massage away the throbbing sensation that lurked there, though it relieved none of my pain.

The second I opened my eyes, warm, natural light filled them, giving me an odd sense of security in this dangerous world. That, coupled with the fact that Aris had fallen asleep slumped over the bed I was lying on, his hand simply around mine.

"What happened?" I mumbled, pushing myself up onto my arms as his head shot off the bed.

"Oh my God, you're awake!" his smile stretched from ear to ear, "Newt found you in the party unconscious and carried you all the way here."

"What was I doing in a party?" the memories from my previous adventure only just beginning to seep back.

"I don't know, Brenda and Thomas only just woke up and I didn't want to badger them," he laid the back of his hand on my forehead, checking for a temperature, "but we guess you went in there to try to find us. You three were in a shit state when we did though."

"It all seems like a massive blur - I just remember trying to find you guys, I sort of remember seeing Newt, but that must have been just before I went out."

Aris smiled as he removed his hand, "You're alright to go out and see the others if you want.

Swatting away his attempts to help me, I stood up and took in the fact that my bed was in the corner of the room, shielded by two yellowing dust covers.

Aris pulled back the curtains, revealing a grand room, despite its slightly 'adapted to the Scorch' feel - the windows had all been covered by odd curtains and all the lights had been wrapped in plastic drapes. Several armchairs and sofas were arranged in a circle around a roaring fire, two beds, one empty and a table stocked with decanters of various alcohols were off to the side.

"Nice sleep, Orla?" Thomas joked as he was helped off his bed by Teresa.

Smiling weakly, I was going to speak, but was cut off by Jorge, towering over the man who had given Thomas, Brenda and I the drinks at the party, who was now tied down to a chair, "I suggest that you talk! You son of a bitch!"

After a few seconds with no answer, Jorge swung his fist at the man's face, his head lolling backwards briefly off the head of his chair.

"Orla!" Newt spoke, practically leaping from his chair as he ran to me, his arms wrapping around my small frame when he got close enough, "I was so worried about you."

Chuckling into his chest, I pulled back just enough to look up at him, a genuine smile of sympathy gracing his features, "I don't know why, I lived in a Maze full of girls for over three years, I've almost certainly had worse before."

The two of us laughed lightly, before I was pulled back into his torso and he placed a light kiss on my forehead, "I'll always worry about you."

Another sickening crunch echoed through the air, making us snap apart - Jorge had punched the man again. His ginger hair was plastered to his face by the sweat and blood that pooled on his pale skin, though he still wore that arrogant smirk.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, smiling devilishly up at Jorge, "you're going to have to leave my house.

Newt carefully led me over to his original seat, where Aris had perched on the arm, and sunk down into the chair, bringing me with him.

"Looks like you've been having fun." Aris joked, earning a prod in his ribs from me.

"Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?" Jorge threatened, exhaustion evident in his tone. Thomas and I quickly exchanged looks of shock and confusion.