Elizabeth didn't know what to do with herself. The room felt like it was spinning. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder - meant to be comforting but instead offering nothing but empty weight. Newt's attempted suicide had thrown everyone off balance. Thank God Alby had spotted someone on the wall and was going over to tell them off about it when the figure jumped. Thank God Alby had been there to get help and make sure Newt was in a stable condition. Thank God Alby had been there to muffle the sounds of Elizabeth's screaming against his chest when she saw what happened.

She was in the Med-hut with Alby, Minho, Nick, and the two Med-jacks, Jeff and Clint. Nick was pacing angrily in front of Newt's bed while Jeff and Clint looked him over. His leg was bent at an unnatural angle and there was blood in his hair, but they hadn't yet found the source. Minho was sitting with his palms together in a chair by the door and Alby was leaning against the wall, his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

She felt like crying. She felt like screaming. Never in a million years had she expected Newt to do something like this. She looked over at his unconscious form, spread out on the bed like a rag doll. She looked at his closed eyes; at those boyish freckles dotting his neck. She knew he was sad, but she hadn't known he had been like...like this. What had triggered this depression, this pain? She always worked so hard to make him happy. She always tried so hard to be there for him, as a friend. She had done so much, and yet so little. Why hadn't her attempts - no, why hadn't she been enough for him?

Aly squeezed her shoulder and said something, but she didn't register his words. Everything was so blurry. She blinked hard and stared up at the roof, wishing that there was a hole to reveal the stars. Alby shook her and this time pulled her to her feet.

"Hey listen, we've been talking and we think you should go to bed. It's late, and Newt wouldn't want you worryin' none about him, anyway," Alby said. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a pitiful sob. Embarrassed and terrified, Elizabeth shrugged him away and shook her head, trying to wipe the tears away.

"I will not," she choked out. Alby and Minho shared a look, and then turned to Nick, who had finally stopped pacing. He scratched his head and then took a step forward and wrapped an arm around Elizabeth.

"Let's go," he said gently. "Come on."

Elizabeth didn't have time to react before Nick took her hand and led her away. Somehow she managed to walk the whole way to her hut, stumbling and crying, feeling scared and alone and so hurt. All she could think of was Newt, Newt, Newt. She cared about him so much, and this is how he repaid her? By jumping off the Wall and trying to leave her? Earlier that night he had told her that she was his best friend. Best friends didn't do this to each other. Best friends didn't hug you one minute and then hurt you the next.

When they arrived at her hut, Nick sat her on her cot and meant to get her a cup of water, but was stopped by Elizabeth grabbing him and hugging him. She'd never felt so panicked and terrified.

What if he dies! What if I never see him again! Oh shuck what if he dies! He's my friend! I don't want to lose my friend! Newt!

"Shhh, it's okay, Elizabeth. It's okay." Nick returned the hug and Elizabeth's whole body shook as she held Nick with all the strength she had.

She wept harder than she had the day Chris had harassed her. She wept harder than she ever thought possible, and Nick let her. He sat there and let her hug him and cry into his shirt. Surprisingly, his behavior wasn't entirely shocking. He had never really expressed interest or even friendliness towards her before, but she remembered when Dave was in the Slammer with a concussion. Nick had been like a mother duck then, too. Rather than taking advantage of the fragility of the moment, he set aside their differences and offered what little he could as comfort.

---

Elizabeth refused to go to the Med-hut the next day. Well, not refused, exactly. The truth was, she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to go and see him. Whenever she thought of Newt lying on that cot so pale and broken...she couldn't do it. Her stomach churned and her head swam and her eyes filled with tears and threatened to break her heart. She felt so guilty about not going to see him, but her fear was stronger than her guilt. No matter what she did, she couldn't take her mind off of him. No matter what she did - whether it was working in the gardens or taking a freezing shower or running through the Deadheads - she could not distract herself from the fear of losing him forever.

At dinner she sat next to Gally, who was not as good at offering comfort as Nick was. In fact, he actually seemed to feel a lot more awkward about the situation than he should have, in her opinion. Zart asked them all if they wanted to play another round of Would You Rather and Elizabeth joined in readily, eager to participate in anything that might stimulate different thoughts. The other Gladers were just as ready to blot the thought of Newt out of their minds.

"Question for Snow: would you rather lick the ground of the showers, or lick Frypan's nose?" Zart asked. The boys hooted and started taking their own sides of the question. Elizabeth's nose wrinkled. They always managed to think of gross questions. Winston pretended to genuinely think about it, stroking his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Then he grinned.

"Frypan's nose, of course!"

"What the legitimate hell, dude!" Clint made a gagging face.

"Are you kidding? I'd choose that too! Shanks piss in the shower!" P.F. pointed out. A chorus of disgust followed him. Minho put his hand over his mouth and pushed his plate away.

"Prove this! Lick his nose right now!" Winston said.

"YEAH!"

"LICK IT RIGHT IN THE NOSTRIL!"

"HOLY KLUNK HE'S GONNA DO IT!"

"My turn," Snow said, after the chatter had died down and he had tried -and failed due to Frypan threatening him with his namesake - to actually lick the other man's nose. "This one is for our good leader, Nick."

Nick raised an eyebrow, and then crossed his arms as if to say, "bring it, Greenie."

Snow's question took them all for a turn: "Is it true you think you could drink any of us under the table?"

"What? Where the shuck did you hear that?" Nick retorted. Snow shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. Are ya gonna answer me or not?"

Nick's reply was imediate. He poured himself a jar of Fryan's moonshine that always sat in a pot in the middle and guzzled the whole thing down in front of them all. When he was finished, he slammed the glass down on the table.

"How's that for an answer?" he asked. Snow smiled and then looked around the table.

"Any challengers?" Snow was met with the entire Glade - Newt aside - staring at him with wide eyes, as if they hadn't heard correctly. Elizabeth watched as some of them began silently getting themselves a drink. After a moment, she stood up and went for her own glass.

"Me," she said, "I'll challenge."

The air fell silent once again. This time the Gladers were utterly shocked. Elizabeth hadn't even tasted the moonshine since the night it was first introduced. Now she was suddenly up for a drinking contest?

"Elizabeth, I don't think that's-" Gally was interrupted by a cheer of approval from the others. The rest of them were already filling up their own drinks, some already on their second or third rounds. Some of them already feeling full and hearty. Somebody jostled the table and somebody else dipped their jar into the pot, not even bothering to use a ladle anymore. They started shouting off numbers to keep track of how many drinks they'd had.

"Shuck, Frypan! This stuff is even more wicked than usual!" Minho coughed. Frypan grinned.

"That's because it's been fermenting for about three months, now. I kept a bunch of the original and didn't let you guys have it until now. Alcohol takes a while to be really good."

Elizabeth took a sip of her drink and forced herself not to gag. The liquid felt like fire on her throat and before it was fully gone she took another swig. And then another. And another, until her glass was empty and her stomach was warm.

"Yo! Gally! You gonna drink any?" Alby shouted. Gally shook his head and Alby gave him a thumbs up.

"Great, you can keep score!"

Elizabeth turned to Gally and held up her index finger for 'one.' Then she refilled her glass and started on number two. The second was easier to swallow and this time, instead of wanting to gag, she felt a peculiar buzzing sensation in her toes and the tips of her fingers. It was still plenty disgusting, but there was something about the yeasty flavor and fizzy texture that made her suddenly want more. She was surprised by how quickly she reached the bottom of the jar.

"Need some help, miss?" Chris was suddenly beside her, taking the empty glass from her hand and replacing it with one that was so full it spilled over onto her hand. She eyed him warily, but brought the glass to her lips and drank, the brown liquid cooling her lips and burning her chest.

---

Gally didn't like this. He didn't like it one bit. He wasn't even keeping score and either nobody noticed, or nobody cared. Probably the former. He kept the fire going in the pit for light, and several times tried to persuade Elizabeth to stop and go to bed. But the shank wouldn't listen, and he had gotten into too many fistfights already to try again.

"Bloody idiot," he muttered under his breath. He looked over at her and frowned. Her cheeks were flushed and she had started bumping into people. Worst of all, instead of looking miserable, her whole face was lit up with delight and her laughter could be heard above all the others. Speaking of the others, quite a few of them had started getting fresh with the girl - flirting with her and purposely bumping into her and other stupid things like that. He couldn't tell which of them were fully drunk or just tipsy, but it was becoming increasingly more annoying.

Ben touched Elizabeth's shoulder and tugged the fabric of her shirt away so he could make contact with her skin. Zart clung to her side like a child so close he practically breathed down her neck. Chris's hand brushed up against her butt. Minho actually tried to kiss her, but his lips hit her eyebrow instead. The only ones who weren't flocked around Elizabeth were the ones who had stopped drinking, or hadn't drank as much as the others.

Gally was utterly disgusted. He'd warned Elizabeth and she had ignored him. Now she was letting a bunch of men feel her up and she probably was too wasted to even realize it. His frown deepened. It was so unlike her. She would most certainly regret it in the morning, and who would she have to ask for details? Him.

Gally did not want that happening. He cared about Elizabeth, but he wasn't her babysitter or anything. He poked a stick at the fire. Obviously she knew what she was doing when she-

What the shuck?

Chris was kissing her. He'd turned his eyes away from her for one second, one bloody second! That was it, that was the last straw. There was no way Gally would let a shank like Chris making moves on Elizabeth when he knew full well he was the last person she should choose. Chris was his roommate. In a lot of ways, Gally knew him better than anyone, and he was a massive jerk hiding underneath sappy smiles and smooth talking.

"HELP ME," he shouted at Alby and Frypan, two of the least affected by moonshine.

Gally shoved his way through the band of brutes and grabbed Elizabeth from behind. Alby grabbed Chris and the two of them tore the couple apart. Chris let out a growl of frustration and moved to kiss her again, but Alby punched him in the gut and he dropped to the dirt. The other boys cheered.

"Gally stop doing that!" Elizabeth protested as Gally shoved Zart away from her and Frypan started a fight with Winston as a distraction. Gally said nothing as he dragged her away from the crowd of perverts and didn't loosen his grip when she tugged back and tried to slap his hand off.

"Galllly!"

The farther away from the fire-pit they got, the darker it became. Gally stomped his way to her hut, kicked the door in, and threw her inside. She stumbled inside and her body hit against the wall. He stepped in and shut the door behind him.

"Go to bed," he told her. She smiled at him.

"Gally if you like me, just say so. You don't have to drag me away," she said. She was slurring her words. Gally felt so angry he wanted to strangle her. It took all his willpower to remain standing by the door.

"I SAID GO TO BED, ELIZABETH!"

"Silly. I'm not tired!"

Gally strode forward and grabbed her arm again, leading her to the bed.

"Oww! Gally that hurts!" Gally ignored Elizabeth's whining and he pushed her onto the bed. She sat and looked up at him while he stared back, absolutely furious.

"You're lucky I don't hit girls," he said. Elizabgeth just smiled again and reached out to touch his shoulder. Gally stepped back and her hand fell.

"Do you want to kiss me, too?" she asked. Gally said nothing, just looked at her trying to lie down and cover herself sloppily with the blanket. She was still smiling at him, but her eyes were drooping. He turned around and stomped to the door.

"Gally," she said, "can I tell you a secret?"

Gally clenched his jaw and he roared in frustration.

"SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!"

"I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want Newt to be sad anymore. I like him. I like him so much I don't know what to do," she whispered. And then, "I think I'm in love with him."

Gally sighed and turned back to stare at her. She was staring back, her eyes shining in the dark.

"I love him," she said again, louder this time. Her voice was surprisingly steady.

"Bloody hell, Elizabeth," Gally finally said. "Don't you think I already know that?"

And then he opened the door and left.

---

The world was spinning in slow motion. It was so dark, and yet the edges of her vision were glittery and light. The pillow was soft under her head, and the blanket was warm, but she couldn't fall asleep just yet. There was something she had to do, wasn't there? Elizabeth rolled over and rolled all the way out of bed. She hit the floor and started laughing because it hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. It was a hurt she deserved.

Crawling around with the blanket still halfway wrapped around her legs, Elizabeth found the crate against the corner and managed to sit up to dig around. Her fingers moved almost mechanically, like they knew exactly what she was looking for. They closed around a crinkle of bubble wrap and started unwrapping the gift, clumsy and slow. Everything was slow and hazy and colored midnight.

"There you are," she said, the vial of green in front of her. She took the lid off and the warm feeling in her chest fluttered into something more queasy and less like a dream. She brought the vial to her lips with shaky hands, tipped her head back, and let the contents drip down. It was warm and tasted like nothing. Her head started to ache and she dropped the empty vial. She leaned back against the cool ground and closed her eyes. There was the smell of dirt and darkness. There was the feeling of goose-bumped flesh and a white labcoat stained with chemicals. Somebody called her name.

And then her head stopped swirling and she entered the blissful, black world of sleep.