The First Gladers

Chapter 40: They're Gone

 Something is definitely wrong, they should've been back hours ago. Newt paces by the doors, wringing his hands, worry clouds his mind like a sticky fog. He can't focus. They're out there, all of them, Y/n, Minho, and Alby they could be in danger and nobody would know. Newt is suddenly aware of another person pacing alongside him.

"We should go out there." Thomas says.

"We can't. I told you." Newt responds with a grunt.

"Why not? We made these stupid rules, why can't we just go help them?"

"Remember what I told you about order. The rules are to keep us safe. To keep order. We can't have a bunch of non-runners galavanting about in the Maze."

"But they need us!"

"I told you, we can't!"

Thomas falls silent, and Newt almost feels bad for shouting. Whether they got lost or injured no one knows, but it's obvious they need help. Slowly, other Gladers start to trickle in forming a crowd by the door. Silence fills the air as everyone waits with muscles tense and eyes fixed on the empty hall as the sun slips behind the walls. With a horrible groan, the doors start to close. Newt clenches his fists, silently urging them to turn the corner.

"There! I see them!" Thomas shouts.

Newt looks up, eyes alive with hope, there they are, but...

"Something's wrong." Newt mutters.

Minho and Y/n are dragging an unconscious Alby. They look horrible, covered in sweat and blood their faces twist in pain. Shouts erupt from the crowd, cheering them on as they inch toward the Glade. Come on. Come on Y/n. Come on Alby. Come on Minho. Only a couple feet separate the doors.

"They're not going to make it." Chuck whispers.

They're so close. Close enough to see Y/n's eyes. Her eyes are filled with knowledge and pain. She glances up at Newt, struggling to take another step before she crumbles to the ground.

"Y/n!" Newt shouts.

There's nothing he can do. He's useless. Trapped by his own rules. She's going to die. There's nothing he can do but stand and watch. He wants to scream, or to run, to help somehow. He has to watch as Y/n struggles to her feet, pressing on dragging Alby to safety. Hopelessness tears him apart. Time seems to move at a crawl. It's numb. There's no thought, no words, just muffled shouts and cries the whole world seems to be collapsing in on this moment. They're feet away, the doors are a foot apart. Thomas moves out of the corner of Newt's eye.

"Don't you bloody do it Tommy."

He slips through the stone. Pushing his way through the doors.

The doors shut.

They're gone.

No one makes a sound. Not a word is spoken. Disbelief and despair clings to the air like a heavy fog. 4 people, lost to the Maze. Newt stares blankly at the stone doors, a massive barrier between him and his friends. His only friends. Y/n's face appears when he blinks, filled with desperation and the knowledge that she wouldn't survive. Images haunt his mind of her broken bleeding body being torn apart by Grievers. He's never going to see her again. If only he would have simply gone out there and helped them. She could be with him. Thomas wouldn't have left. All four of them would be alive.

Newt glances around him, most everyone had walked away, accepting what Newt can't. Now only Chuck stands by his side. The young boy's eyes glisten with silent tears as his gaze remains pitifully on the doors.

"Hey Chuck." Newt says softly.

Chuck looks up at Newt, his soft eyes trying to push back the tears. Newt pulls him into a hug and Chuck dissolves into a crying mess, burying his face into Newt's shirt. Newt holds him close, finding some sort of comfort in comforting someone else.

Everything is numb, it feels so unreal. Newt keeps glancing at the doors, almost expecting them to open and reveal Y/n's smiling face, telling him that everything is going to be ok. But there's a voice deep inside is telling him to give up, that there is no hope. She gone, dead just like Minho and Alby and Thomas.

"Do you think they'll make it Newt? The four of them working together they could survive right?" Chuck whimpers.

"No Chuck." Newt's voice cracks, "They're not coming back. Now run off and go to sleep. You have to work tomorrow."

That's it. He said it. They're not coming back. His eyes burn with the desire to cry, his throat scratching with the urge to scream, his body shaking with the temptation to lash out. Yet, he doesn't move. He stares at the wall as Chuck walks away once again in tears.

Why does it hurt so bad? Why can't he just walk away. Why can't he accept that they're gone? This is stupid. He's in charge now, He needs to be strong for the rest of the Gladers. He needs to step up and lead in their absence. He'll be strong tomorrow.

Newt sinks down, sitting with his back against the door, imagining he can feel the heat of Y/n's body resting against the other side, alive, safe. With his head rested on the stone he looks up to the stars and whispers,

"Y/n. If you're out there. Be strong ok? Save them and come home. Come home."

There Newt sits for the rest of the night, the stars his only company as sleep fails to find him. As the night gets colder he hugs his knees to his chest and continues to wait. Why he's waiting he has no clue. He's told himself a thousand times that they're gone. Still, he waits.