"I'm a monster!"

I whispered over and over. I had handfuls of my hair. The pain in my chest wouldn't go away. My scars burned. Shame and guilt hit me again like a title wave, trying to drown me. I rocked back and forth forcing myself to take deep breaths. Four seconds in hold for four and then exhale for four seconds.
I swallowed hard and I wiped the tears off my face with shaking hands.

I finally opened my eyes and jumped. Minho was still crouched beside my bed. I couldn't figure out what he was thinking. His eyes were in shadow but the corners of his mouth pulled down slightly in a frown, yet he seemed to be soft; none of his muscles were tensed.

"Sorry." I said quietly, "for holding a knife to your throat."

He didn't move, his eyes, I could just see the reflection from the moon, were flicking over my face.

"Do you have regular nightmares?" He finally asked.

I frowned. I wasn't expecting that. Normally people freak out when a knife is held to their throat, he didn't back away instead he stayed. And he didn't acknowledge the apology, instead asking about the nightmare. Almost like he was concerned about me rather than himself. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Always this bad?"

Why was he asking, why did he care?

I looked away. "Yes." I heard myself answer.
There was a pause. I could hear him breathing and the thumping of my heart still working overtime from the horrible memories.

"And you work through it alone, don't you."

I looked back, his head was tilted slightly to the side, I could see his eyebrows pulled together like he was thinking. He didn't ask it, it was more of a statement. I nodded slowly.

"She's the only one who hasn't let me down, turned on me, lied, manipulated or abandoned me. So yes. I've learned that the only one I can rely on is myself. I lernt how to be strong alone."

"Why?"

"Because Minho," I spat, suddenly angry, my body tense and shaking now. "Killers don't cry. Monsters don't panic. Assassins don't have anxiety."

I realized right away I said to much. I clamped my jaw tight pressing my lips tight. No more. I wouldn't say anything else. I turned my head away and brought my knees up to my chest hugging them tight.

"Can fallen angels accept help? And do lost girls have a friend?" He asked.

This was a very different person beside her bed right now. He was being oddly gentle and soft. His voice was deep but calm and even, he also never fully acknowledge the things I've spat bitterly at him.

His response had hit me. Is he referring to me as a fallen angel and lost girl? I was no angel. I knew what I was, I don't remember how I became a monster, but I was one, I had blood all over me.

"I don't know." I muttered, "find an angel and ask. And I'm not lost, I know exactly where I am."

I heard him hum. He slowly shifted so he was sitting on the floor, leaning on the bedside table, his knees pulled up and he drapped his muscled arms around his knees.

"Did you push the girls in your maze away too?"

"They left me alone."

I rested my chin on my knees. He was quiet again, resting his head back, but I could see his eyes moving. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, I knew he was trying to figure something out. He had the same look in the maze or map room.

"The regular nightmares... they're memories from the changing."

Again he said it as a statement; as a fact. I didn't answer, instead I looked away. But that was answer enough. He knew it was memories that haunted me. This is why I didn't want to share a room, why I slept alone and why I kept everyone at arms length.

"Are all your memories that bad?"

"Yes." I whispered.

"Gally doesn't talk about his either, but they seem different than yours. Yours seem...more like they haunt you then mess with you, his seem... more broken up and he seems more confused."

"Different people. Different pasts. Different memories and how their minds react to the poison and the serum."

I had let my legs down so I was sitting cross legged my hands in my lap. The t shirt I was wearing wasn't covering my legs, it was bunched up by my hips. I pulled the blanket over my lower half.

"Hmm. I guess you're right. Different reactions... You definitely had a traumatic past. I know it doesn't really help, but I'm sorry Jessie you had to through it."

"Why are you sorry? You don't know me."

"You won't let me." He finally looked at me.

"I don't do friends...I don't know how. I don't want people to know the deep stuff. It's just ammunition to use later." I whispered bitterly.

"Well, let's start with the basics." Minho said, a bit of his playfulness back in his voice.

"The basics..." I repeated slowly.

"Yeah. Favorite color?" He asked turning his body now to look at me.

"Whoa, that is a line you do not cross!" I said holding up a hand. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I let a small cheeky smile appear. He waited.

"Red." I finally said.

"Seriously? I was kidding at the picnic table."

"It's not just blood red, though blood can be seen as gory, harsh, violent and gross, but it's life. Red blood is what keeps you alive, it runs through your body, keeping you warm and alive. It runs through your heart, the symbol of life and..." I hesitated, "and love."

"Whoa. Dutchess of Darkness has a deep side." He teased, a small smirk on his face now. I let the cheeky smile fall into a real one. It was small, but it was real and genuine.

"You said not only... Why else do you like red?"

"Because of fire. Because like blood, fire has two sides. It can burn as a candle providing you with light, let it grow into something that protects, provides heat and cooks food...but leave it unattended and it will destroy everything in its path."

Minho sat and looked at me with wide eyes. I instantly felt angry again. This was why I don't talk about things, "deep things" people heat me talk and I'm judged. I clamped my jaw and looked away, feeling the tears burn.

"Holly shuck. That, Jessie... was really beautiful."

I glanced back at him, he was still staring at me, but in a different way than other people.

"That was all true...but so...well said most people shrug and say 'cause. Like I've never talked to someone who had an actual deep reason for liking a color."

The corners of my mouth tugged down. And my eyebrows pulled together. He seemed genuinely shocked, but didn't seem turned off, instead he was leaning forwards slightly, his dark eyes seemed to be brighter, even in the moonlight, more intense. And I didn't know what to do about it. No one had stayed this long. My walls and snappy remarks, my snark and knives turned them away.

"Umm you? What's... what's yours?" I asked. It felt weird, asking this, it was like we were 4 years old at a play ground.

"Blue."

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. He chuckled.

"I don't have a deep reason. But...it's the colour of the sky, and the sky seems to not have limits, it's open. And it's free."

"That seemed pretty deep to me." I said quietly.

He grinned.

"It's also the colour of your eyes."

My stomach did that weird thing again. A weird twist and like I missed a step going down the stairs. I also felt heat in my face. Shuck am I blushing? What the hell is wrong with me?

"They're grey."

Minho shook his head, "Dark grey with navy blue flecks."

How did he know such details about what my eyes looked like. The heat in my face got worse.

"And I wasn't wrong, the blood brought out the dark blue."

"I'll be sure...to face paint in it..."

He smirked and his eyes sparkled. I frowned again, tilting my head.

"My ... violent vaulger anger doesn't turn you off? I just said I'd face paint in blood and your smirking."

"Just the opposite actually. You're stronger than most guys here. You're stronger because you don't need anyone. And I know there's more to you than knives, sarcastic comments and a stubbornness that makes me want to put my head through a wall."

"It's not a good idea. It's dangerous."

"I'm brave that way." He smirked, "and I like danger."

"Some call it reckless."

"Someone once told me that I need to take more risks in life."

I tried to hide the smile forming, I bite my bottom lip, but the corners still pulled up into a half smile.

"They sound like a bad influence." I whispered. My voice wasn't working. My lungs were working weird, like they were trying to breath but forgot how.

He hummed. His gauze kept me locked in place. It was an intense look but it wasn't harsh. I could feel the tension, it was so thick I could feel it in my skin, it sent a shiver down my spine.

He finally snapped his eyes away from mine.

"You should get some sleep." His voice came out kind of rough and gravelly. I could see him swallow hard, his hand went to his hair, running a hand through it. He only did that when he was nervous or worried about something, or being an arragant cocky Shuckface.

"I'm.. I'm sorry I woke you up. I guess Newt lied."

"About?"

"Me being quite."

"We all have nightmares. Some worse than others. And seems like you worst of all." He responded with a shrug. Then he gave me a cheeky smile, "But maybe next time I'll throw a pillow at you instead, you can cut the feathers pillow and not me."

"I'm sorry. It's why I slept alone..."

"Stop apologizing. You are who you are and whatever shucked circumstance brought you to sleep with a huge ass knife I stead of some soft studded bunny or bear, is your business. Also your not the only one who sleeps with an emotional support knife under their pillow."

He winked.

The corners of my mouth pulled into a smile. I wasn't sure if he was serious about that. Did he sleep with a knife? He always had one strapped to his back in the maze and a small one on his hip in the Glade... Maybe he had one under his pillow. It wouldn't surprise me.

He nodded and got up off the ground he stood over me for a second and then turn, went back to his bed and lay down. I took the abandoned knife and slid it back under my pillow and lay down. I pulled up the blanket.

"Good night Jessie."

"Night Minho."

I rolled over and the first time I could remember I fell asleep with a small smile.

•×•

The next few weeks was weird. I kept to myself, not feeling angry, but confused. I still couldn't walk without a limp. So I helped Winston in the Bloodhouse.

He was an old one. He had a dark twisted sense of humor, which I appreciated, but he would have these random moments of a wild over the top Queen. I just went with it. Who am I to judge.

"Winny...how come I never see this side of you outside the barn?" I asked, we had been standing at the butcher table working, he had done most of the talking.

"Don't know." He shrugged. His clever knife stilled for a second, he was staring at the back wall frowning.

"Guess I feel comfortable being myself."

"Huh. Most people run."

"Well...it's been almost two months...you should realize that the Gladers aren't like most people."

"You have no one to compare you you idiot!" I rolled my eyes.

"And you do?" He pointed his clever at me.

"Yes. I was in a maze full of girls for two and a half years."

"Okay, so your saying the girls ran when were you? And the guys don't. So...were not like other people."

"Okay point taken. But only a handful of you guys don't go screaming."

"And those brave shanks are?" He asked, going back to chopping.

"You, Newt..uhh, Jeff, Fry, Gally Alby and Minho. Though Alby tolerates me, and I'm pretty sure he's scared of me and just lets me do what I want. Fry and Jeff are too...happy go lucky it grates on me if I stay too long. Gally is...Gally."

"So it's Newt Minho and me who are the real brave shanks"

"I guess you three have a death wish. But it's more...I don't know Winny! I don't do feelings or ships."

"Ships?"

"Friendship. Relationships."

He frowned at me, he put his clever down and folded his arms over his blood stained apron.

"You know, JayJay, it's not a death sentence to have friends. Or a boyfriend." He said the last word very pointedly.

"It is in my world." I said quietly.

"I'm part of that world."

"Then your already dead." I spat bitterly. We were toeing the line again.

"JayJay...I know you don't wanna here this and your gonna shut down like always. But there are at least three of us who actually like you for you, bitter dark soul, sarcasm, knives and all. We just wanna be aloud to know you too. I'm comfortable enough with you to admit I'm gay, no one else in this place knows."

He placed his hands down on the table and leaned forward looking at me with narrowed eyes.

"If that doesn't mean something then this world is more jacked then I thought. You told me Newt reminds you of Sonya. Sonya was a friend...a sister in your other maze. Let Newt be your Sonya. Let me be your friend!"

"But I lost her. I lost Sonya. What happens if I loose Newt..or you?" I asked quietly, looking up at him I had tears burning my eyes.

"Then you have great memories. It's better to have loved and lost then never loved at all." He frowned and cocked his head, "I read that somewhere...or heard it, don't remember, the point being, everyone in life needs someone. I know you can take care of yourself...but let someone be beside you."

"And that someone is who? You?"

"And Newt. And Minho."

I scoffed. Wiping the tear that threatened to fall.

"Please.. Minho has fallen hard."

"Excuse me?"

"The moment you jumoed out that MedJack window."

"He hated me."

"It's Minho, that's how he shows affection."

I frowned and it was my turn to put my clever down and fold my arms.

"He's stubborn and arragant and cocky, loud, and obnoxious..."

"Sounds like someone else I know. Minus the loud part. They are also loyal, hard working, under all the sass and disrespect for authority they care. Deeply. And shuck girl the lingering eye contact! Shuck that tension is so think even Dug could cut it with a spoon."

I snorted at his insult to Dug. But I shook my head.

"Sure he's helped me through a nightmare or two-"

"Has he now?" Winston raised an eyebrow and smirked. I felt my cheeks go warm.

"That kiss at the first fire... Come on girl!" He threw his hands into the air dramatically, turning away. He stopped and turned back, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"You can't tell me you felt nothing. 'Cause I saw the initial freeze in shock and I saw you melt into him! You can't fool me!"

I felt my cheeks heat up even more, clenching and unclenching my jaw I looked away. I didn't want to admit it. It scared me. Confused me. Made me nervous and out of control and I don't like feeling that.

"I knew it. You're in love." He smirked and came back over to the table.

"I think you're delusional."

"And I think you're in denial."

I growled. He smirked and gave me a knowing look.

"Bonfire tonight. We'll see what happens."