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The Griever holding Dave was rolling along on its spikes toward the West Door, clicking and groaning. The other Grievers were following its friend toward the Maze. Blake ran faster than she thought possible, tripping over her own feet as she tried to catch up to Thomas, who was sprinting directly into the pack of creatures.

Thomas jumped on the one holding Dave in a suicide mission to save him. Blake screamed at the creatures and Thomas. Before she could get to them, a force grabbed her.

Minho wrapped his arms around her, keeping her from go any closer. She couldn't let them kill Thomas. "Let go!" She screamed, her voice high pitched.

Three of the Grievers swarmed on Thomas at once, long pincers and needles flying from all directions. Thomas kicked his legs out, knocking away the metallic arms and gooey bubbly bodies of the menacing Grievers. Thomas started to scream, kicking and pushing and thrashing, foaming his body into a ball, trying to roll away from them. Struggling, he finally squirmed his way free, collapsing on the ground where Blake was able to break from Minho's grip and immediately get to Thomas's aid.

As soon as he fell on the ground, away from the Grievers' instruments, they gave up and retreated, disappearing into the dark Maze. Newt was there in a second, followed immediately by Chuck, Minho, Teresa, and several others. Newt grabbed him from under both arms. "Get his legs!" he yelled.

Blake noticed that Thomas had been stung, knowing all too well the pain he must be going through. Thomas obeyed Newt's order; and was carried across the courtyard, through the front door of the Homestead, down the shattered hall, into a room, placed on a couch.

"What were you doing!" Newt yelled in his face. "How could you be so bloody stupid!"

Thomas's eyes were flicking everywhere, his face growing pale. "No ... Newt ... you don't understand...."

"Shut up!" Newt shouted. "Don't waste your energy!"

Jeff examined his arms and legs, ripping his clothes away from his body, checking for any damaged. He shook his head. "He has been stung at least a few dozens times."

"Thomas, I know the pain is unbearable, just try to focus on a single item in the room that helps a bit," Blake said, trying to help but instead earning a painful groan from Thomas.

Newt yelled for the Grief Serum; a minute later Clint came with a needle, poking it into Thomas's arm. "Does that help?" Blake asks.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, you were passed out when we gave it to you last time, but it should calm the pain."

Blake could tell it was working because Thomas's body started to grow stiff. He looked around the room, then, his lips started to move. If you weren't paying attention you wouldn't have caught what he said.

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