The train was in no driving condition, while the guards unloaded the train cars and loaded the Berg instead, a few guards handed water to the captive kids. My mask was unclasped and I gasped wildly for fresh air. The water bottle was thrust into my hands.

It was slightly warm but I didn't care. It hurt my sore raw throat, but it eased the pounding in my head slightly. A few of the kids three up, heat stroke taking hold of them finally. The sun had set and the stars were out. It seemed like midnight by the time the guards started dragging us up the Berg ramp. We were all shoved into one of the Bergs extra rooms and the door was locked with guards stationed around the inside of the room.

We were all huddled. Lost in our own thoughts. All of probably thinking the same thing...we were left behind. Why were we left behind?

With difficulty I crawled to the corner of the room. A guard watched me, the launcher in their hands had charged up. I lay my sore body down on the floor. The cool floor felt good on my sore head. I closed my eyes, pulling my arms tight into my body and I let the hum of the Berg engine put me to sleep.

•×•

My eyes snapped open. The first thing I saw was light blue sky and white fluffy clouds. The sun was shining on my face. I would feel the cool dewy grass under my fingers.
I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where I was and what was going on. I couldn't hear anything. It was silent. I strained my ears to hear anything before I moved. I could hear the wind in trees. That was it. I finally turned my head.

I was back in the Glade. Or the Meadow. I couldn't tell. It all looked the same. With a stab of confusion it made my stomach twist. Sitting up slowly I looked around. The barn or bloodhound was empty. No animals, no slicers or ranchers. The gardens were abandoned, shoves and rackes lay abandoned, crates and buckets of fresh picked fruit and veggies. There wasn't even the sound of hammers, meaning no builders.

I slowly got to my feet. Something was very wrong. Was this the beginning again? Alone for a month... It's the same. A sob was stuck in my chest.

"You deserve this." A voice boomed. It echoed off the stone walls.

It made me flinch and throw my hands up over my head. His voice had been telling me this constantly.

"Why would you ever get a break?" "You know I never loved you. Who could ever love a killer?" "Your hideous with those scares." "You're mean and vulgar and violent." "You're a killer. A Monster. A murder."

His voice screamed horrible things at me, and then everyone's screams of pain. They would scream and sob, calling for help, begging for the pain to stop. I would pound on the maze doors until my fists were bruised and bloody, and my mind was broken. The doors would finally open.

"Run Jessie." He would then whisper, his voice was malicious and yet ammused. "Run Jessie. Run."

I had no choice. The Grievers would come crawling out of everywhere. The Deadheads, the barn, every other door would open in the stone walls revealing more Grievers. But theses Grievers didn't just have animal screams or black beady eyes. They had the eyes of every person I was responsible for killing.

Starting with Sadie. And then Chuck's, Ben, Alby, Zart, Gally, Clint, Adam, Dug, Peter, Winston, all the doctors I shot in the way station, Auntie Em, Uncle Marcus, The Handler. It didn't matter if they were good or Bad, if they had names or not, I knew their eyes. And their voices.

And not just small eyes. They were huge and bulging, in a grotesque way to rub it in more. It was impossible to miss. And then the Grievers would open their mouths and scream. But scream in their voices.

I would turn and run. I would run as fast as I could. Turn after turn through the maze. It didn't matter where I was going. The Grievers would chase me screaming at me. Begging for me to stop, blaming me for their pain. And just as my legs would give out and my heart felt like it would explode, my lungs were squeezing, I would turn a corner and I was back in the Glade. And it was empty, abandoned. Silent as the grave.

Then Minho's voice would scream at me all over again. As I backed away, cowering away, he would come staggering out of the Deadheads.

"You did this Jessica. You're the monster. You did this. And now I'll kill you for it."

He would lung at me, like every crank I've encountered and he would rip me apart with the knives he had. He would never kill me. Just enough to feel the pain of every person I'd killed or injured. I could feel all their pain, all at once. I would curl up and scream and sob.

•×•

My body finally sagged, the serum had worn off. The last of my screams ripped out of my raw and and bloody throat. My chest heaved, tears still wet on my cheeks and falling from my sunken eyes. My body had nothing left. I couldn't even work up the energy to shiver or shudder. The only thing keeping me from falling out of the chair was the shackles around my wrists and chest. My head hung low.

My wrists were raw from the metal shackles. My hair was greasy and stringy, I had lost so much weight. My waking hours and my sleeping house all meshed together. My nightmares were the same as my waking hours. I couldn't figure out what was real anymore. The only way I knew how long I had been with Janson and WICKED was every time they strap me to the chair the doctor would make a voice recording, stating what day it was. It had been 122 days. Meaning four months. Four months since the train car had been stolen from WICKED.

It had been 122 days I had been alone in a cell with no one but doctors, nurses and RatMan. I didn't even have energy to pick myself up from the cell floor where they dumped me after.

•×•

Minho:
I sat with everyone, but I didn't participate in the conversation. I didn't understand how they could be laughing. It had been four months of them planning and attempting to find where Jessie was. I ground my teeth, clamping my eyes closed I tried blocking out their pointless conversation.

Jason and Sonya sat slightly away from the group. They huddled together, her hand intertwined with his, gripping it like a life line. Sonya sat with her head on his shoulder, staring blankly into the fire. They understood. Same with Aris, he sat apart in the shadows.

I drained the bottle in my hand. I got up, tossed the glass bottle into the fire and spun on my heel and walked away into the darkness.

Pushing the bedroom door open I pulled out the bottle of pain medication out of my backpack, I dry swallowed a few of the pain meds then stumbled to the adjoining bathroom. Leaning heavily on the counter I let out a dry sob.

I hated looking at myself in the mirror right now. I felt so unlike myself. Sure, I had gained back the weight I lost. Frypan and the others cooking actual proper food, sleep and no consistent torture surly helped. Then the guilt would hit. Jessie was still locked away with WICKED and Janson. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had the haunted eyes and bags still from wake from night mares and panic attacks.

I hated the sight of myself. Cleaned, hair gell, actual clothes, no more cuts or bruises. With a scream of anger, I slammed my fist into the mirror. I hated that I was slowly healing, and Jessie was still captive.

I slammed my fist into the mirror again, shattering it completely. I didn't notice the glass shards still in my knuckles or the blood splatters. Rage filled my veins, forming a tight ball in my chest. It was hot and burning. With another scream, I turned and grabbed the towel rack and ripped it from the wall. Throwing it across the bathroom. With a sob that formed from the rage it escaped from my tightly clamped jaw and I slammed my fist into the dry wall.

Kicking the door open I ripped the sheets from the mattress. I didn't deserve sheets and a blanket when Jessie probably had nothing. I pulled the mattress from the bed. The drawer full of clothes stood in the corner and it taunted me. Jessie was still in the same blood soaked white cotton pants and shirt. The last glimpse I had of her as they loaded her into the train car in front of mine...she had dried blood all over her shirt and down the side of her face. She could hardly stand, being dragged between guards. Shackled and muzzled like a feral dog.

I ripped the drawer open and tossed the clothes all over the floor. And then for food measure I pulled the drawer out and checked it with a scream and was satisfied as it smashed against the wall. I pulled the next one open and did the same with each drawer. Throwing everything around and smashing the drawer. Sobbing the whole time. I turned to smash something else.

My foot got caught in the sheet on the floor and I tripped, landing hard on the ground. I tried getting up, but my hands were stuck. I felt it tighten around my wrists, trapping me. I could feel the sharp cold needle poking into my neck again. The serum they used to induce the nightmares.

"No! No no no! Please! Not again!" I cried, 

I flinched hard, when the sharp needle stabbed into my skin. Wincing, I tried rolled onto my back. There was nothing there. I was alone in my room. It was dark, the florescent lights turned off. Did I just imagine being stabbed with a needle and serum? I tried pushing myself up onto my elbows, but I couldn't I was strapped down. My hands were strapped down, I felt the cold metal biting into my wrists. 

"No!" I screamed. "Please! No! Stop!"

My breathing started coming short and shallow. I started feeling dizzy. My heart was slamming into my chest, and I felt hammers banging on the inside of my skull. My gasping becomes louder, and my lungs struggle to get the oxygen to my brain.  My gasping breaths become horrible wet hacking coughs; which didn't help the lack of air. And to my utter horror, I could feel my throat becoming tight and a lump formed, my eyes burnt with the start of tears. Hot salty tears slid down my face.

I tried calling for help. Anyone, I needed someone. Anyone. I longed for Jessie. I needed her. She always made me feel safe, and at home, she made me feel like everything would be okay. I was absolutely terrified.  I knew I was alone. And Jessie wasn't here.

I lay tangled in the sheets, on the floor of my trashed room, gasping for air, tears sliding down my face. I kept tugging on my shirt and clawing at my throat. Silently begging and hoping the tightness and unease in my chest would go away. 

It doesn't. It never does. It never would. 

My wrists were grabbed and yanked away. A face appeared above me.

"Hey! Hey, man, your okay. You're safe. You're safe. You're away. You're okay." 

"No no no. Never safe."

"You're not there anymore shank."

"Can't... can't breathe!" I gasped, my lungs were so restricted,y head was dizzy and the pounding in my head was worse.

"Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Minho, breathing. Listen to my counting man. One...two...three...four. Hold it. Hold it... Good. Now out. One...two..three...four. Again. One. Two. No! Minho, breath with the counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Hold it. Hold...and out..." He demanded me do it a few times. My eyes clamped shut, I couldn't see the disgust in their eyes.

"Minho tell me what you can hear."

Hear? What could I hear?

"Uhh..I can hear the...the people outside...and...the..waves. And.." I stopped talking, trying to hear something. "Water dripping."

"Good man. What about feeling. What can you feel?"

"The tile floor. The..the sheet and...a...a stinging in my hands."

"That's 'cause it's covered in glass ya shank!" The voice sounds shocked.

"Blood hell Minho! That looks terrible! Tommy! Go grab the first aid kit."

I slowly opened my eyes. There were now two voices. I definitely recognized Newt. Thomas was around...but who...The florescent lights had been flicked on. I blinked a few times. My chest was still heaving. My throat was hurt from screaming.

Newt's face appeared above me, worry and shock and concern in his big brown eyes. Then another face appeared. And I blinked in confusion. I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Wh-what the fuck?" I whispered.

"Hey shank." Winston grinned.

"You're dead."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "Went to hell. Wasn't fun without JayJay came back." He grinned.

"What the actual fuck?" I pushed myself up, and gapped at him.

"Long story."

"Sit your ass down and tell me." I just about yelled, suddenly furious. "You have any fucken idea how much Jessie broke because of you?"

He hung his head, tears in his eyes.

"Minho. Slim it." Newt said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"This fucken slinthead has a lot of explaining."

"Get up son." Bucky was standing in the doorway, arms folded, his face set and serious. "All of you come with me."

He didn't wait for an answer. Newt held a hand out for me and hefted me to my feet. We left the trashed room behind and followed Bucky. He pushed the mess hall door open. The rest of the Gladers, Jorge and Vince were sitting at a table. I slowly sat down, feeling skittish and very confused.

"We have some exaing to do." Bucky said. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

"Yes. You do."

"First of all, there's someone else apparently you need to say hi to."

Out of the shadows slid Gally.

"What.the.fuck?" I managed to choke.

"What the hell?" Thomas gasped.

The Gladers sucked in a sharp breath.

"Hey, Greenie."

I looked back and forth between Winston and Gally. I could feel my chest tightening.

"No no no. This isn't real." I whispered. My pupils dilating in fear. My head started pounding again, my heart slammed into my chest so hard it hurt. I tugged at my shirt trying to breath. How could this be real? Winston and Gally were both dead.

"Gally?" Newt finally managed to utter.

"No way. Two dude back from the dead in one day!" Frypan marveled. He was looking back and forth between Winston and Gally. They both had sheepish looks on their faces.

"No, wait!" Newt cried. Thomas had lunged forward with a scream and tacked Gally. A wild right hook to the jaw. Thomas went to send another punch when Newt grabbed onto Thomas and yanked him backwards.

"Stop! It's all right! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Newt cried, pulling Thomas away as he struggled. "Stop! Stop it!" Newt got in front of Thomas and placed a hand on his shoulder and one on his cheek.

"Stop. Love."

"He killed Chuck." Thomas cried, his chest heaving.

"Yeah, I know."

"He almost killed Jessie!" I managed to finally get out. My voice shook with anger. "Chuck's death nearly killed Jessie...then You," I spat at Winston, "broke her so bad she almost didn't come back!"

"I know, Minho. I remember. I was there too, all right? But I also remember," he turned to Thomas again. "That Gally was stung or controlled, and half out of his mind. And Winston's almost death was no one's fault. Somehow he survived and we need to hear how." Newt looked back at me and very pointedly said, "Just calm down. All right?"

Thomas took a shuddering breath, and pushed off Gally.

"Come on." Newt said gently, guiding Thomas back to the table.
Frypan had got up, and held a hand out for Gally.

"Kind of had that coming." Gally said with a half hearted chuckle. "Anybody else? Fry? Newt?"

I had stood up and slammed my fist into his jaw this time. This time Bucky had kept in and grabbed me and shoved me roughly back down onto the bench.

"Do you know these guy?" Jorge asked, pointing to Gally.

"Yeah...ya we do." Jason said. He had been oddly quiet the whole time.

"How? How is this possible?" Frypan asked sitting down.

"We watched you die." Newt said, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two boys.

"No, you left me to die." Gally said.

"And I begged you to let me die." Winston nodded.

"Would this be an awkward time to say hey?"

Everyone spun to the doorway to the kitchen. Jeff stood holding a huge tray of tea, and beside him stood Nana Ann, Mary and...

"SAMMY!" I cried, I didn't even care at this point. I cried. The little boy came tearing over and flung himself into my arms. I sunk to the ground and held my little buddy, my baby brother and cried.

•×•

× Emotional Damage! ×