Disclaimer:

Hello, 911? I seem to have caught Newtitis. Please send help right away!

EDIT: shuck me. since i skipped through 95% of the actual chapter in tmr, i thought the whole ordeal at the end (of chap 35) happened downstairs. it didnt. it was in "one of the upper rooms" but oh well. it's downstairs now. enjoy.

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In short, Gally looked horrible. His eyes were raging with insanity, clothes mere shreds. He dropped to his knees and didn't move after that. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as his eyes searched the room. No one said a word. The fear and shock that filled the room was palpable.

"They'll kill you!" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth. "The Grievers will kill you all— one every night till it's over!"

Gally stood and walked forward. I noticed with alarm that his right leg was weighed down with a heavy limp. My hand clasped onto Newt's, eyes not leaving Gally even when I felt him squeeze back.

My heart thudded as Gally stopped right in front of Newt, Thomas, and I. He pointed to my brother with a bleeding finger. "You," he sneered, voice full of a hatred that was much deeper than before. "It's all your fault!"

His fist slammed straight into Thomas's ear. The latter cried out and crumpled to the ground for a second before immediately popping back up again.

Newt unfroze and let go of my hand. He pushed away the lunatic shell of Gally, who stumbled and crashed into a desk behind him. The lamp toppled off and shattered to pieces on the floor.

Gally straightened and swept his crazed eyes around the room. "It can't be solved. The shuck Maze'll kill all you shanks... The Grievers'll kill you...one every night till it's over... I ... It's better this way." His gaze landed on the floor. "They'll only kill you one a night...their stupid Variables."

I was too immersed in fear to speak - to even move - as I took in Gally's words. How had he survived that long out in the Maze alone? So many unanswered questions swarmed my head that it began to ache. A dull pulse of pain started up in the center of my skull.

I watched with fearful eyes as Newt took a step forward. "Gally, shut your bloody hole- there's a Griever right out the window. Just sit on your butt and be quiet- maybe it'll go away.

Gally looked up with a glare, seeming to be eerily calm all of a sudden. "You don't get it, Newt. You're too stupid— you've always been too stupid. There's no way out— there's no way to win! They're gonna kill you, all of you- one by one!"

His voice rose into a scream at the last word. Gally threw himself at the window and started tearing at the planks of wood like an animal struggling to get out of its pen. He had already ripped a board free before anyone could react.

"No!" Newt screamed, running forward to stop him from tearing apart our only barrier between us and the Griever outside. I finally snapped out of it and darted to help.

The second board had been disconnected by the time any of us could reach him. I ducked into a roll as he swung it backwards, the wood connecting to Newt's head instead. I watched in horror as he was sent sprawling across the room. Crimson droplets of blood sprinkled the floor.

Anger raged through me, blinding me with its red-hot claws. Before I could jump at Gally like I so desperately wanted to, arms wrapped around my waist and spun me in Newt's direction. I turned to see Garret pushing me toward the injured boy, face a blend of fear and aggravation. "Go! Help him!"

I scrambled to Newt, who was already unconscious on the floor. I dropped to my knees and pulled his head into my lap. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, I tried to locate the source of the bleeding. As carefully as I could, I tilted his face and found a bump on the side of his head with splatters of blood painting the blond locks red.

"Gally!" Thomas yelled just as I started to rip a strip of my shirt to bind Newt's head. "What're you doing?!"

Hands shaking, I quickly wrapped the cloth around his forehead and secured it with a tight knot. My day as a Med-jack taught me that the best thing I could do for now was try and stop the bleeding.

"You shut your shuck face, Thomas," Gally shouted, voice venomous. "You shut up! I know who you are, but I don't care anymore. I can only do what's right."

I looked up just in time to see Gally reach back and rip the final board loose. As soon as the wood hit the floor, the glass of the window exploded like a firework of splintery shards. Reaching up, I yanked whoever was closest to me to the floor, instructing over the noise for the three boys to cover their faces. Once I was sure they were protected, I pulled Newt's limp body closer to me and ducked my head down.

I didn't dare look up. There was a Griever trying to squeeze its way inside- that much I knew without seeing. I could hear the horrible mechanic whirs and clicks and guttural groans as it tried to work its way into the Homestead.

My eyes moved upward without permission. The Griever's metal arm was reaching out toward Newt and I, trying to grab onto us. The claw at the end snapped open and closed as it neared my face. A terrified, mangled scream escaped my lips as I kicked my legs, trying to scoot myself and the unmoving body in my arms away from the monster. I wasn't going to let either of us die tonight.

Then Gally started speaking again, and in a way he rescued us. The Griever paused as if to listen to him talk, trying to writhe its body further into the building.

"No one ever understood!" he shouted over the noise of the sluggish creature and the wall ripping to pieces. "No one ever understood what I saw, what the Changing did to me! Don't go back to the real world, Thomas! You don't ... want ... to remember!"

Gally's frightened eyes met Thomas's for a short moment, and I watched in absolute trepidation as he turned and dove onto the Griever. I let out a shout as all of its arms immediately grasped onto his limbs, making escape impossible. The boy's body sank into its flesh. The monster receded from the giant hole in the Homestead and began darting back to the Maze.

While Thomas ran to the gaping hole, I stayed on the ground in shock. My eyes were wide as they could be as I stared at nothing. My mind couldn't wrap around what had just happened.

It was only when someone started taking Newt's body from me that I was brought back to reality. My head snapped up to see Garret pulling him up, saying something about needing to find the Med-jacks. I was barely registering his words. However, I found myself nodding and taking great effort to stand.

I was in some sort of shocked trance as I followed Garret aimlessly around the Homestead. He was holding Newt like a baby, arms tucked beneath his knees and on his back. I was vaguely aware of us stopping occasionally to speak to a Glader about Jeff or Clint's whereabouts.

Somehow we found them and Newt was laying on a bed as Jeff tended to his wound. "There's not much we can do now- just wait till he wakes up and see how he is."

I sat on the edge of the mattress with my eyes on the floor. The voices were background noise as new sounds took over, and snippets of images flashed in my mind. Voices echoed in my skull and seemed to bounce around in my brain.

"What are they?"

"They don't have names yet, Dylan. But I'll assure you the boys will come up with one very soon."

"Do they kill people?"

A pause. The woman sounded like she didn't want to answer. "Yes."

Someone shook my shoulders, forcing me back to the world. My eyes met Jeff's. "Are you all right?" he asked, features crinkled with worry.

I nodded and cleared my throat before speaking. "Yeah. Just shocked. I'm fine."

My gaze drifted to the bed, which was empty. Rumpled sheets outlined where Newt's body had previously been laying. I abruptly stood and felt panicked.

"Don't worry," Jeff said with a sigh, sensing my question before I could even ask it. "He woke up about a minute ago and ran off before I could stop him."

I nodded and fled the room, but not before thanking Jeff. The Homestead was absolute chaos. Gladers ran out and about wildly, loud voices mixing and trying to rise over one another. I was shoved aside as bodies suffocated the hallways.

"Newt's outside," a voice told me, yelling to be heard above the noise. I turned to see Finn being pushed along by the crowd. "Thomas is too. Minho ran into the Maze!"

And then he was sucked up into the mass of Gladers.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Minho went into the Maze? Was he trying to get himself killed?

Finally I followed the train of boys and eventually got to the stairs, where I jumped down from the railing. My feet stung at the impact on the hard wood. I ignored it and darted through the giant hole in the building, toward where I saw the outlines of Minho, Newt, and Thomas.

I sighed in relief as I sprinted toward them. Newt was okay aside from the cloth around his head, and Minho looked tired but otherwise unscathed. All the worry I had pent up inside of me evaporated, releasing pressure from my chest. I felt ten times lighter without all the concern weighing me down.

I caught the end of Newt's words as I slowed to a stop. "I just can't believe it. What a night."

"I'll say," I agreed, slightly out of breath from my run. "You hit your head pretty hard there." I turned and flicked Minho in the middle of his forehead. "You slinthead! Why did you go out in the Maze?"

Minho glared at me and rubbed the skin I had hit. "I just wanted to see if it took him to the Griever Hole. It did."

There was a pause before Thomas turned to Newt. "What were you about to tell me? You said we had worse-"

"Yeah." Newt jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "You can still see the buggin' smoke."

My eyes drifted to where he was pointing, then widened at what I saw. Wispy trails of smoke were pouring out of the Map Room and blending into the grey sky. Someone had set the building on fire. The Maps were gone.

"Who burned them?" I asked. "Who would have the audacity and stupidity to do that?"

Newt shook his head slightly. "Dunno. But whoever did left nothin' to spare. Every last trunk- gone."

Thomas didn't seem to care much about the loss of the Maps, but I sure did. All those evenings spent holed up in the stupid, stuffy room were left to waste. I was not pleased.

My features hardened like stone. A steel gaze flickered in my eyes, which were locked on the building. The fists at my sides clenched and unclenched. A new wave of anger coursed through me when I thought about two years' worth of drawings gone.

"Dylan," Newt said, knowing what I was about to do before I could even move. "Don't. Go check in the Homestead- see if anyone needs help."

"No," I protested sharply, then turned to him with narrowed eyes. "I don't know what your problem is, ignoring me all of a sudden; especially when I saved your shucking life - you're welcome by the way - and for what? To be sent back out of imminent danger when I had been staring death right in the face and protecting you with my life? No."

Without giving him a chance to speak, I spun on my heel and began to storm toward the Map Room. I let out a shaking breath and sniffled, refusing to let myself cry over something so dumb. I couldn't stay mad at Newt. I cared too much. For now I just needed to let both of us cool down and wait patiently for him to return to his usual cheery self.

Jogging the rest of the way to the building, I covered my nose as the acrid smell smothered me. My nostrils burned with the scent of charred wood and my vision blurred from my eyes watering.

I coughed as I opened the steel door, waving the smoke out of my face. It made it too difficult to see. My eyes squinted and I waited for the room to clear.

It was completely black. The table in the center had been reduced to a soot-coated piece of furniture that would probably break to splinters if I touched it. The trunks were nothing but ashes on the darkened floor.

My eyes stung and a few tears slipped out, but I immediately wiped them away. And when I did, I was baffled by what I saw on the floor.

Alby. He was motionless, a huge bleeding gash ripping open his forehead. Blood leaked from both sides of his head. Some was going into his eyes.

I immediately dropped to my knees, hands shaking as I tended to my injured leader. I gently wiped some of the crimson liquid out of his closed eyes. Alby's head stirred and his eyelids slowly opened, blinking to see.

"Dylan?" His voice was a cracked whisper, barely inaudible. His face was contorted in pain.

"I'm here," I coaxed, wiping the blood on my shirt. It had been ruined enough already. Raising my voice, I shouted as loudly as I could, "NEWT!"

He appeared in the doorway in an instant, eyes darting around the charred room before landing on us. "Bloody hell," he muttered, rushing down to help. I noticed his hands shaking as he traced the gash along his friend's forehead with the tips of his fingers.

Minho arrived next, jaw dropping when he saw us. "Shuck." Instead of running to us, he sprinted out of the room. I guessed he was going to get help.

"Alby, what happened?" I asked softly.

He took shallow, shuddering breaths, wincing as he did so. "Some slinthead sl-slammed my head against the table. That's all I know."

I nodded in understanding just before his eyes closed again.

"Alby, you stay with me now," Newt demanded, voice trembling in the slightest.

Alby choked out what I supposed was supposed to be a laugh. "I ain't dyin', shank. Slim yourself nice and calm."

Newt did not do that. A deep crease was between his eyebrows, skin above them wrinkled with worry. His eyes occasionally met mine, though he quickly averted his gaze every time they did. A hollow feeling developed inside of me from the thick tension between us. How did it end up this way?

Minho returned a few minutes later with a drenched cloth. He threw it at Newt, who caught it and immediately started to tenderly press it against Alby's wound.

I noticed with dismay that a small crowd had followed Minho. They blocked the doorway, resulting in no fresh oxygen coming through. A cough escaped my lips and I covered my mouth. My eyes began to burn again, lungs filling up with the poisonous air.

Newt looked up and noticed my suffering. "Go get a breath of air, Dyl. I'll take care of him."

Hesitantly, I nodded and pushed myself into a standing position. I walked around Alby's body and shifted through the crowd. Clean air entered my lungs. I sighed in relief and walked further away from the hoard outside of the Map Room.

I sat in the dewy grass and put my head in my hands. Why had Newt been avoiding me? Was I making too big of a deal out of nothing? We had seemed fine a few days ago. Had it been something I did? My head filled with haunting thoughts and I felt the hollow feeling slowly spread to the rest of my body. I couldn't shake the despondence away.

Where was Thomas? I needed him. If Newt wasn't going to talk to me, then I would turn to the second person who knew me best- my twin brother. Except he was nowhere to be found. Theo wasn't in the crowd; he must've been taking care of Chuck. Minho was too busy pacing to notice that my thoughts were slowly driving me to painful hysterics.

And even though there was a large quantity of people around me, I suddenly sensed the empty, soul-clenching feeling of being utterly alone.

gif is tmr cast being adorable to relieve the tension of this chapter

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newt wtf ur a jerk

newlyn is sailing on some rough seas. sorry guys!! however i assure you the waters will be clear soon enough.

dedicated to romanovgers bc idk i just love their comments

-kristyn