"I'm... I'm sorry..." Newt whispers as he attempts to steady his breathing, turning so that he can sit on the floor, leaning his back against the door beside me, head tilted back against the wood as he grimaces in pain, the remaining tears rolling down his cheeks as he blinks them out.
"This... This can't be true..." I whisper in disbelief, my mind racing and jumping to several conclusions a second, searching desperately for some kind of nonexistent resolution. "Newt, this can't be- I mean, you weren't bit-"
"That apparently doesn't bloody matter anymore..." He mumbles weakly, rubbing his thumb along the bulging veins as he forces himself to slowly inhale through his nose and exhale out his mouth.
Pressing my quivering lips tightly together as I fight back tears, I glance down at his right arm. "How long... How long have you known?"
Taking a deep, trembling breath, Newt slowly shifts his tired eyes to the side, looking to me as he clenches his jaw. "A few days..." He admits. "My veins weren't really visible until last night, though... But I could feel something... Something not right in my head..." He mutters, looking down at his arm as he rolls the coat sleeve back down. "My arm started out sore just a few days ago, so I assumed it was nothing, but then the pain got worse," he pauses, "but I prefer the pain waves over what started yesterday morning..."
I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yesterday morning?"
He nods. "I noticed my right arm having phases of going numb and stiff between the phases of pain, as if it's...dead." He mutters the last word as if the word itself is poison on his lips.
I lick my lips anxiously as I force myself to fight back the sob yearning to break through, doing my best to stay strong for Newt and gently grasping his good hand. "Why haven't you said anything?"
"Because I didn't want to worry you." He says, averting his eyes back to me. "Besides, after you got bit, I was far more concerned about you staying clear of the virus than me..."
I close my eyes as a single tear rolls down my cheek, and I squeeze his hand.
"I know now that I should have said something, but I didn't... I didn't think I would get this bad so fast." He explains.
Frowning, I nod understandingly, looking down at his good hand as I gently brush my thumb on top of it. I sit in thought for a few moments. "What are we going to do?"
"We're going to do just as we planned... We're going to get Minho."
"But, Newt, you shouldn't-"
"We'll figure it out as we go... Alright?" He says, squeezing my hand. "Minho's our priority right now. Remember, he saved my life, and so now it's our turn to save his."
Brushing the lone tear from my cheek, I take a deep breath. "Newt..."
"We can worry about me later." He says, sitting upright now, seeming to be a little better. "Once tonight is over with, we can figure out what to do with me. Alright?"
Pursing my lips together, I hesitantly nod.
I can't believe this. Newt's infected, even with all of the precautions we took, and Mary is no longer around to help make the enzyme mixture we need to slow the virus's process. If his arm is this bad, I can't imagine how extreme the signs are on the rest of his body, hiding beneath his clothes, and, if he's gotten that bad in a few days without even being bitten, how much longer do we have until the Flare begins to consume him?
Holding a stone-like expression, my throat feels as if it's on fire from fighting back the tears, and I suddenly grasp Newt's shoulders, pulling him into a hug, squeezing him with all of my might.
He slowly returns the embrace, holding me as tightly as possible and burying his face in the crook of my neck.
And here we are, two broken individuals, doing what we can to mend each other.
• • •
Making Newt take a seat at the desk, I gently take his right hand, the blood on it drying to a sticky gunk after having ran down his arm since he punched the door. Taking out clean bandaging, I begin to wrap his hand.
Neither of us have said a word over the past hour because, after consoling one another, we returned to preparing for the rescue mission and did what we could to avoid the matters of Newt's infection, so, in other words, neither of us could speak because both of our minds are entrapped in the snare of worries and anxieties over the boy's fate.
However, Newt apparently finds something to talk about after the dragging hour. "You know," he mumbles, "back when we were taken into WICKED's facility, and we first wondered into the cafeteria, I was simply minding my own business as I ate my first wholesome meal in years."
Carefully adjusting the wrapping, I lift my eyes to look into Newt's questioningly.
"But, then, I had spot this strange girl who, for some reason, wouldn't stop staring at us." He manages to chuckle.
I laugh softly to myself, listening intently as I shift my eyes back to my working hands.
"You thought you were so sly, but it was bloody obvious." He smiles weakly at the thought. "I remember the look of utter horror on your face when we first made eye contact. You turned away so fast, I thought you would give yourself whiplash."

Finishing up with the bandaging, I release his hand, and he pulls it away, examining his wrapped, bloodied knuckles.
"Although Minho was immediately convinced that you were some crazy stalker with a just-as-insane friend that stares at his bloody cornbread, I could not shake the feeling that there was something particularly," he pauses, thinking of the proper adjective, "unique about you." He grins as if he is sitting in the cafeteria right now, the thoughts occurring to him for the first time. "I found it rather intriguing: a girl I've never spoken to before unable to take her eyes off me." He teases.
Blushing slightly with a quiet giggle, I roll my eyes. "Yeah, sure."
He leans back into his chair, folding his arms with a soft sigh. "You made me curious. It wasn't until Minho nudged me and called me a buggin' creeper that I realized I was beginning to stare, too." He admits, looking at his hands as he fidgets with them. "Then, you crawled out from under one of the bunks in our room, and that was when I decided that all girls were bloody insane."
I shake my head, laughing softly to myself.
"I mean, I only knew of one girl before you, and that was Teresa, and she had spoken to me, maybe, twice in the entire three days I had known her, and that's after having chucked rocks at us from atop of our search post."
I chuckle lightly, smiling warmly. "Yeah?"
He nods, snickering quietly. "Yeah, but then you help us escaped, so it was nearly impossible for me to not trust you. However, in the midst of the breakout, I have to admit that there were times when I was hesitant. For example, when you nearly dove through the windowsill after Tommy and I had just shattered the window's glass everywhere. Do you remember that?"
I nod as I bury my face in my hands in embarrassment, muffling my laughs in my hands.
"When we escaped, we stumbled into that bloody Crank-infested mall... Do you remember what happened that night?"
Sighing softly, I lift my head from my hands, smile fading. "Yeah, we all hid in the dark, hoping the Cranks wouldn't find us... And I felt someone grab me protectively, which you later admitted to." I pause for a moment before admitting, "However, I had figured out that it was you when you comforted me after...Winston."
His face falls slightly, and, if the orange light of the lamp is not deceiving me, I believe I see a soft blush rise in his cheeks. "You did?"
I smile weakly, nodding slightly. "Yeah..."
He nods, biting his lip, seeming to debate on how to respond. "Do you know why I did that? Why I held you that night?"
Lifting my eyes to meet with his, I furrow my eyebrows together as I ponder on it. I shake my head. "No, actually, I don't know why."
"Well, the thing is, I honestly didn't know at the time either." He mumbles, lifting a brow as he stares into space as if peering into his past state of mind. "It was as if I was acting by instinct. Like I needed to protect you, and you specifically."
Puzzled, though heart fluttering slightly, I ask, "What do you mean?"
He shifts his brown eyes directly to mine. "I mean exactly what I had tried to tell you when WICKED attacked our camp a half of a year ago." He whispers, causing my heart to lurch out of my chest. "Except, back then, I questioned it, but, now, I know that I was right about my feelings..." He leans forward in his chair, reaching for my bandaged left hand with his wrapped right.
I furrow my brows together as my heart rate rises, staring at Newt's warm, big brown eyes in the golden lighting of the lamp.
"I need to protect you, (y/n), because I-"
"PUT ME DOWN! LET ME GO!" Someone snaps from outside the room, interrupting Newt and causing the two of us to jump with a start, turning to look at the door with a gaping hole in it. "LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!"
I immediately dart my eyes back to Newt. "Teresa." I mumble knowingly.
Nodding and clenching his jaw, Newt gets to his feet, quickly limping to the door, and I follow closely behind him.
As we step out into the main room, I look at the top of the stairs two flights up to see Gally catch Teresa as Thomas carefully passes her down from the ceiling door, hopping down after.
"I SAID LET GO!" Teresa demands, kicking her legs as Gally holds her over his shoulder, locking her arms tightly at her sides in order to keep her from removing the cover over her head.
"Oh, stop squirming." He mutters with an eye roll, carrying her down the stairs.
"You're only making it harder on yourself." Thomas mutters, which causes Teresa to slowly stop fighting Gally's grip.
Quickly rushing to the circular table in the center of the main room, I turn on the lamp as Newt limps to the wall, pulling down the lever that controls the string lights, shutting them off.
Fry, suddenly striding out from a room on the second floor and passing Gally on the stairs, rushes to the bottom level and gathers the chairs around the table in the center of the room, turning them all in one direction before taking a lone chair and pulling it away from the rest, turning it to face the others.
Jorge, already at the bottom level, leans against the wall further back as Brenda strides towards the table, taking a seat in one of the chairs beside Fry.
Expression seeming to display a sense of numbness, Thomas quietly follows after Gally, passing him once they've reached the bottom floor, and he silently takes a seat in the center of the huddle of chairs.
"Come here." Gally says, waving Newt over.
Folding my arms, I stand beside the empty chair next to Brenda's, leaning back against the table as Gally shoves Teresa into the lone chair that faces us.
He scowls at the girl, taking a few steps back. He nods to Newt.
With his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, Newt swiftly pulls the burlap sack off of Teresa's head, tossing it to the ground and limping to the chair I stand beside, taking a seat and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
Teresa, catching her breath, darts her eyes to each of us, shocked. "What the-? How?" She wheezes, struggling to conjure up full sentences. Her eyes widen even more when she looks to the towering, buff boy. "Gally?!"
He doesn't acknowledge her panic, coolly leaning against the table on the other side of Fry. "Listen. We're going to ask you questions, and you're going to give us the answers, got it?" He says flatly. "We know WICKED's got Minho. Where's he at?"
Distorting her face in confusion and frustration, she looks to Thomas. "Wait- You don't actually think that you can get him just by knowing his location?"
Gally, quickly striding in front of the traitor, grasps the empty chair beside him and swings it in front of Teresa, sitting on it backwards and folding his arms on top of the backrest, searing into her soul with a stern stare. "Don't look at him. Why you lookin' at him?" He retorts, blocking her view of Thomas. "Look at me."
She purses her lips together, staring at Gally for a few moments. "You don't understand, couldn't get Minho, even if you knew where he was-"
"That's not answering my question, slinthead." He says flatly. "I didn't ask if we would be able to get Minho; I asked where you've got him locked up, so let me ask you once more to make sure it gets through your thick skull: where have they got Minho?"
She frowns, sighing. "In the third sector...with the others." She mutters.
"How many have they got in there?"
She shift her eyes to Thomas, once again, before muttering, "Twenty eight..."
Before Gally can ask his next question, I speak up, "Where do you store the Bliss you extract from those poor kids?" I ask.
Puzzled, she averts her eyes to me. "The Serum is in the same sector," she explains, "but what would you want with that-"
"None of your business." Gally mutters in a straightforward tone.
Shifting her blue eyes to him, Teresa sits a little taller. "Listen, my answers mean nothing because you will not be able to get into the building without getting caught, no matter how much you know about where things are located. They have scanners throughout the entire facility. Only people with confirmed fingerprints as a staff member are able to get through them-"
"That's where you're going to help us." Thomas explains. "We need you to get us through those scanners. We just need one confirmation in the system."
Gally, eyes still locked on Teresa, shrugs slightly. "Do we really need her?" He asks, rising to his feet and striding to the table behind our chairs, sliding his chair back before grasping the small scalpel on the table, flipping it in the air and catching it with ease. "I mean, all we really need is her thumb." He growls, stepping towards her, causing Teresa to lean back slightly with widening eyes.
"Gally, stop." Thomas orders, quickly getting to his feet and grasping the intimidating boy's arm, stopping him.
"We really don't need her; we just need her fingerprint."
"But that isn't part of the plan." Thomas says sternly, pulling Gally back. He gives the boy a suspicious look when Gally doesn't stand down. "Gally."
Rolling his eyes, Gally eases slightly. Very slightly.
"You don't understand, my fingerprint is not all you need to get through those scanners-"
"We know that we're tagged." Thomas says calmly, slowly walking to her and crouching down beside her. "That's why we need you..."
She stares into Thomas's eyes for a few moments, a frown tugging her lips downward. She shakes her head. "Thomas..."
Clenching my jaw, I mutter, "I'm sick of this pathetic attempt to get pity from the one shuck-face with conflicted feelings." Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grab an empty chair and quickly stride passed Gally, swiping the scalpel out of his hand, and, swinging the chair in front of me, I take a seat in it backwards just as Gally had done, suddenly stabbing the blade into wooden backside, staring Teresa straight in the eyes.
Thomas, rising to his feet protectively, puts a hand out in front of me. "(y/n), let's be rational-"
"Gally, get Thomas out of the way before he lets the plan fall through."
Smirking slightly, he nods. "Good that." He says, grasping Thomas's arm and pulling him back. "Let (y/n) have a stab at the interrogation." He chuckles cockily, pun intended.
Shockingly, Thomas stays back, but he remains tensed up.
"Listen," I spit, yanking the blade out of the wood of the chair, "you don't have a shucking choice. You're going to get these chips out of our heads, and you're going to get us into the facility, got it?" I hiss.
She clenches her jaw, sitting taller. There's concern in her eyes, though I cannot tell if it's worry for herself or for us. "I can't do that."
I scoff, shaking my head. "I don't care. You're going to do that."
She lets out a short, exasperated sigh, frowning. "You'll get caught, and they'll be quick to take you in for tests against your will-"
"Alright, listen here, traitor." I snap, suddenly rising to my feet and shoving my chair to the side, grasping her coat collar with one hand and holding the scapula to her face. "We don't have shucking time to bicker! You're going to do the procedure, just as we told you to, or I'll give your face a procedure of my own; your choice!"
That threat immediately sends the others into a panic, except for Gally, who's snickering proudly. "I like her, too." He mumbles.
"(y/n), no!" Newt exclaims, quickly rushing to me and lifting me from the ground by my waist as Thomas slides in front of Teresa, arms out to block her.
"No, let me at her! Let me at her!" I snap, lashing. "She's been cozy in this shucking city for six months, torturing our friends! She betrayed us, and now she's wasting our time!"
Newt pulls me back, tightening his arms' grip around my waist. "(y/n), calm down!"
"No!"
"I'm not putting you down until you stop!"
I fight his hold for a few more moments until I ease, panting heavily with adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Hesitant, Newt slowly sets me back down on the floor just as Gally takes the scalpel back from me. "And I thought I was intimidating." He chuckles.
"Just calm down, alright?" Thomas says, hand out towards me.
I scowl, tensing up and causing Newt to gently grasp onto one of my arms to keep me from another outburst.
"We don't have time for her to waste." I growl.
Thomas takes a deep breath. "(y/n), we've got plenty of time-"
"No, we don't." I snap. "In fact, some of us have much less time than others." I hiss, clenching my fists.
Teresa, furrowing her brows together in confusion, looks up at Thomas, who stares at me with an unreadable expression.
"I know you know." I growl at the boy defending the traitor.
Brenda, distorting her face in confusion, chimes in, "Know what?"
Frowning, Newt pulls me closer to him, gently grasping my shoulders and turning me to face him. "Hey... Hey, we've got time..." he whispers reassuringly, though I keep my stern stare on Thomas.
The brunette boy, sighing heavily, shifts his eyes to Gally, putting his hand out to him.
Exhaling softly, the bulky boy hands Thomas the scalpel, and Thomas crouches back down beside Teresa, handing her the small blade. "You know we're going to break in, with or without these trackers in the necks. It's up to you on whether or not we manage to get farther than just passed the entrances."
Teresa, eyeing the blade in silence, purses her lips together before scanning each of our faces in the room, contemplating on what to do. She looks back to Thomas, staring into his eyes. "Alright..." She mumbles. "I'll take your chips out..."
• • •
Arms folded, I lean against the railing at the bottom of the main staircase, watching Thomas as he takes a seat in front of Teresa while she cleans the scalpel, preparing to remove his chip.
Fry, sitting at a different table, holds the gauze to the back of his neck as Brenda, sitting across from him, fumbles with some maps, reexamining her routes for the plan.
Gally, taking a deep breath, strides to me with one hand on his hip as the other removes the gauze from his cut, and he examines the blood on it. "I bet you that she enjoys this." He mutters to me as he presses the white gauze pad against the back of his neck again.
I scoff lightly, nodding. "I wouldn't be surprised..." I mumble in return as I stare at the girl.
Staring at Thomas and Teresa, the towering boy inhales deeply through his nose, his broad chest rising before falling as he exhales a heavy sigh. "You know," Gally says in a low voice in attempt to keep our conversation between the two of us, "I'll make sure we get that