WARNING! SOS! UNBETA'D! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Yes, you're seeing right and no, you haven't gone crazy - it's really me! As in - I FINALLY updated!

I'm so sorry for the delay, and I guess you all already thought you'd seen the last of me - well, you were wrong. I'm really, really into this fic and nothing's gonna stop me from writing it. Not even death. (okay, death, possibly)

Like I explained at the end of the last chapter, I have school and work and blah blah all kinds of stressful shit but I managed to finally finish this chapter. I'm excited and terrified for this chapter at the same time because I really enjoyed writing this but you never know what the readers think.

And like mentioned, this chapter hasn't been beta'd yet - so sorry about that, you should be expecting some kind of weird typos and grammar mistakes like last time. So, beware! And that being said: enjoy!

I own nothing.

CHAPTER 5

The minute the doors close I'm swallowed into total silence. For a while I just stand there, too amazed by my own actions to think properly.

I'm…In the Maze. Me. Tommy. The greenie.

Shit, I'm going to be in so much trouble. Taken that I make it alive.

I take a deep breath and let myself look around a little, investigate the surroundings where I'm about to spend the next hours.

It's dark, a lot darker than it would be in the Glade right now, because the light doesn't fully reach the ground through the ridiculously high walls. They look even creepier when you're in the Maze itself, being covered in vines, leaves and ivy. The ground looks like rock, and the plants have spread from the walls to cover some of the ground, too. Cold breezes of wind greet me and I get the chills.

Did I really just do that? Did I really just step into the Maze and, well, according to what I've been told since the day one, doom myself to die?

But I'm not going to spend my time grieving for my stupid actions or the creepiness of the Maze – I have more important things to do. Newt and Minho are not only trapped in here – they are either lost or in trouble.

They might be dead.

But I'm not letting myself think of that for longer than a second because that's not an option. They aren't dead, and they won't be. I just have to find them on time.

Taking a last, long breath, I start running.

Since I've never been in the Maze before and it would be impossible to try to choose the direction, I decide not to. I just run, letting my instincts tell which turn to take. Running feels good and I know, more than ever, that this is what I'm destined to do in the Glade. Being a Runner.

Although taken how I just broke, like, only the most important rule in the Glade, I'm lucky if they let me come back, let alone to become a Runner.

I run for ages and it would be underestimating to say that I'm lost. I'm so utterly, thoroughly lost it makes the word 'lost' lose its meaning. I might be running a circle and wouldn't know about it.

The thought makes me slow down a little when the next turn comes, and I actually stop for a second to ponder which way to take. What did I pick last time? Right? No, left. Or was it right?

And then a noise freezes my brain, sending all my thoughts flying away.

Whirrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Whirrrrrrr

I'm too paralyzed to let a single breath. It's the most horrible noise I've ever heard – or remember hearing, anyway. I search my empty head for answers, trying to find anything that could be the source of that kind of a noise, but I have no idea what kind of creature it could be.

Although I do know what the creature must be. A Griever.

Shit.

The noise's coming from my right side and I turn my head a little, just barely enough to see to the end of the hallway. At first, I don't see anything, and I almost breathe in relief but then– flickering lights, so dim my eyes only barely notice them, but there they are. And the longer I stare, the clearer the lights become. Which means the Griever's getting closer.

Half a second later I'm running for my life to the left, the direction which seems to be Griever-free at the moment. I reach the end of the hallway and turn left again, then right, left, right, right…Just trying to get the hell away from that creature. I didn't even stay long enough to actually see it but I'm kind of glad I didn't. If the noise's enough to scare the crap out of me…

I really wish I'll never see a Griever.

After I've been running for another good half an hour, I decide it's safe to assume the Griever's somewhere far behind me. I turn right again, but this time stop for a second and lean to a wall to catch my breath. I feel exhausted, sweaty and tired and I know I can't stay still for long but the idea of sitting down is simply too tempting, so I let my body slide to a sitting position.

I have no idea how long I've been in the Maze but I already feel half dead. The fear of not finding Newt and Minho in time, the fear of getting lost – too late for that, though – the fear of properly encountering a Griever…A sudden wave of desperation rushes through me. Who knows how many Grievers there even are and – how fast are they in the first place? Are they fast? Damn it, I should have asked Newt more about them.

I shiver to the thought of Grievers being as fast as I am and since I really don't know shit about them, I decide it's best to assume the worst to stay alive. So I really shouldn't stay in one place for too long.

I swipe the sweat from my forehead and take a deep breath, ready to start running again when I spot a movement out of the corner of my eye. Something moving very slowly on the end of the hallway I'm currently sitting in. For a second I feel my throat tighten and the terror rises from my feet to my fingers as I fear to be forced to meet a Griever, but the feeling passes faster than a lightning strikes as I turn my head towards the moving figure and narrow my eyes to get a better view of it.

And it's not a Griever.

"N– Newt?"

The movement stops and the only sound in the hallway is the echo of my voice. Then –

"Tommy?"

And then I'm the one moving, getting back to my feet faster than I knew was possible and rushing forward. I was so afraid I would never see him again that I had taken the thought and forced it into the back of my brain, making myself so hard not to think about the possibility. And now, seeing him stand there, breathing, alive…

There's not a force in this world that could make me slow down.

I bump into Newt, crushing his slim body against me for a half second before quickly loosening my grip and pulling myself out to take a better look at him. He sways on his feet while grasping my elbows, and I'm the one keeping us still and standing, but I can't find it in myself to feel sorry for almost knocking my friend down because I was so scared.

"You're alive," I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my heart thumping inside my ribcage as if trying to break free. I'm gripping his shoulders probably too hard but apart from looking utterly taken aback, he looks fine. The blond hair is messy and the fabric under my palms feels kind of damp, like he's been running and sweating, and his breathing is hard. I look behind him and realize the absence of Minho, but just as I'm about to ask about him, Newt opens his mouth.

"I'm– of course I am, but what're you –" His brown eyes are full of confusion until the realization hits him and I feel like I'm shrinking under his narrowed gaze.

"What are you doing here?" The question is sharp and I gulp, not knowing what to say. Newt's expression is dangerous and he takes a step back, and my arms fall back to my sides.

"The doors have been closed for bloody hours, Tommy – what the shuck are you doing here?"

"I just –"

"Just bloody what? Thought it would be great to play a little hero, jump into the Maze and save the bloody day?"

And I should have guessed that Newt would be angry, even furious, because he wouldn't be Newt if he wasn't but still…

"I just wanted to help, the doors were closing and you were still here –"

"And exactly what kind of bloody right does it give you, you shouldn't be here, you shucking idiot! Haven't you listened to bloody word I've said?"

"I have, why else do you think I'm here? Newt, I couldn't just friggin' leave you here!" And maybe my voice has the slightest bit of annoyance in it, so what. A part of me knew he wouldn't take it well, but really, it kind of hurts to be treated like I rushed into the Maze just to 'play a little hero'.

"Why? That's what everyone else shucking did! I can't believe you, you're such a clueless idiot –"

"Would you just friggin' –"

But our slowly raising voices are cut by a horrible, screeching noise that I already know way too well, let alone the fact I've only heard it once before.

Whirrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Whirrrrrrr

Click-click-click

Newt's eyes are widened and filled with horror as he stares at me.

"Shit, we gotta run," he gasps, but I can't help turning my head to the direction of the sound. It's the direction Newt came from, and I can already see the weird, flickering lights getting closer. The thing's probably just one turn away from us.

"Tommy, c'mon," Newt grabs my hand, dragging me to the opposite direction, and I'm forced to turn my gaze away from the noise and lights. Adrenaline is already rushing through my blood and I have an urge to speed up, to run, but a quick look at Newt prevents me from even suggesting it.

He's so obviously in pain I wonder how he's still jogging, and I don't have to ask to know the source – his bum leg.

"Newt –"

"Now you listen to me, Tommy," Newt pants, obviously not wanting to draw any more attention, "the only way for us to make it is to separate."

But the answer is on my lips before he even gets the sentence out: "No way."

"Yes way, it's the only way –"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"It's not for you to decide –"

"Look," I snap, nudging his arm to make him stop jogging for a second, "I already made the mistake of letting you go in the Maze. I'm not letting you wander off without me again."

He opens his mouth, trying to come up with an objection, but no sound comes out. Our eyes lock and maybe Newt is just too tired to come up with anything or maybe it's the firm look in my gaze, but he sighs and shakes his head.

"We don't have time for this," but he doesn't sound angry anymore, just tired. I nod and grab his hand again, and we start jogging, adrenaline still pumping in my veins. We get closer to the end of the hallway and I'm wondering which turn to take when suddenly the noise splits the air louder than ever. Startled, I take a quick glance behind and –

"Shit, Newt, run!"

Because it's in the hallway and it must have seen us already and I have no other options than to run and drag Newt behind me. I hate doing it and even though Newt doesn't make a sound, he can't fool me – he's hurting like hell. He won't be able to run for long.

But I decide not to think about that right now – we'll cross the bridge when we come to it – and just concentrate on losing the thing. We turn right, then left, then take a turn to right in the middle of a hallway and keep running, but I can hear the thing crawling after us. We have managed to grow the distance a little, and I almost feel a glimmer of hope when suddenly Newt stumbles and loses his step with a yelp.

"Ah, bloody hell –" he curses, and his face is dangerously pale as I help him up. He tries to take a step but hisses from pain when his injured leg touches the ground. He breathes out and snaps his head up to meet my gaze and my heart breaks a little to the sight of fear in his eyes.

"Tommy, I –"

But I'm already by his side. "Here, you can lean on me."

"No, Tommy, I can't run anymore," he whimpers, and the Griever's terrifying noises are closing in way too fast. I bite my lip hard enough for it to bruise and try to think or a solution when Newt nudges my hand.

"We can't lose it if we're together."

"No."

"Then what are we gonna do? Tommy, I can't run – you have to leave me!" But I don't even bother to answer – I'd rather die than leave him alone to face the Griever.

Whirrrrrrr

Click-click-click

But I do know we don't have time to sit around planning our survival. "Hop on," I command, crouching down a little, and Newt raises his eyebrows like I've lost my mind.

"Tomm –"

"Now!" And it surprises me that he actually obeys, hopping on my back and curling his slim arms around my shoulders. You know how usually people aren't as light as they look like? Well, Newt's even lighter than he seems. I don't understand how someone as muscular as he still manages to weight so little.

I start running, and I'm actually able to run even faster now that Newt's on my back instead of running next to me. It should feel weird to run while giving your friend a piggyback ride, especially a male friend, but the only thing I'm feeling is the warmth of Newt's body and the need to protect him. I kind of want to ask about Minho, but at the same time I'm scared to hear about his fate, so I decide to let it go for now.

I'm feverishly trying to make a plan when Newt suddenly startles me by speaking as we get to another turn.

"Turn right," and I obey immediately, taking the right turn. Newt continues: "Now left, then right again," and I keep taking the turns he orders.

"What's your plan?" I pant while running, and Newt mumbles: "I might know a way." And that's enough for me.

After running and obeying Newt's commands for maybe ten minutes I'm starting to feel the exhaustion, and I'm worried that I'm going to have to slow down, when we suddenly come to a hallway that just…ends. There's no other head, just a darkness that seems to continue to infinity.

"Newt, what's– what's this?" I breathe as we reach the end of it. I stop and stare into the darkness, not believing my eyes – how can this be possible? How can it just…end like this? There's no ground, no nothing – only darkness and stars. Like we are standing on the edge of the world.

Newt drops from my back to his better leg but keeps his hand on my back, as if taking support.

"This…is our only chance." I stare at him with confusion, and he just shrugs. "This is something Minho and I found a while ago. I mean– when I was still a Runner. We have no idea what it is or why it's here, but…it was the only idea I could come up with."

I nod, suddenly realizing Newt's plan, no matter how hard it is for me to just turn my back to the – wonderful? Terrifying? – sight. The Griever is closing in, it's only a matter of seconds now, and Newt's eyes are filled with fear and worry as he stares at the other head of the hallway.

I decide to act before I get a chance to regret anything, and take his hand as the Griever's horrific sounds fill the air. Newt opens his mouth, staring at our conjoined hands, but no sound comes out. Sure, we've had a lot of contact during this evening but this –

This feels different. More intimate.

And when the hallway lightens up by the weird, flickering lights and the Griever rolls closer, the fear disappears from Newt's gaze and is replaced by determination.

"On three," he mutters, and I nod, finally taking a proper look at the Griever.

There's no words to describe its form – it's so utterly terrifying that I don't even know what part of it to look first. It's half flesh, half metal, its body covered in some kind of ooze that makes me think of a giant snail. It has legs, many, spider-like legs, and there's at least dozen limbs pointing though its body. Each limb is different – there's one with a hammer, one with a knife, the list goes on.

So no – there's no possible way of describing the Griever with one word.

"One," Newt whispers, and I squeeze his hand hard. The Griever roars – or whatever the hell you call the sounds it's making – and I gulp. It doesn't seem to have any sort of eyes so I have no idea how it can sense us.

But there's no question of it – it definitely knows we're there.

"Two," Newt's silent voice interrupts my train of thoughts, and I take a deep breath. Then the Griever roars for the last time before suddenly surging forward so fast it makes my heart jump to my throat, and I glance at Newt, wanting to move, but Newt simply shakes his head as if saying 'not yet'. I force myself to stay still, and the Griever's getting closer and closer and I'm sure we're as good as dead.

Then, as the Griever's no more than five feet away from us and I'm so horrified I might die from fear, Newt yells: "Three!" And I release his hand as I jump right and he dives left, and one of the limbs actually scrapes my shoulder as I roll past the horrible creature. It roars and I have to cover my ears as I turn my head just to see the Griever rush over the edge and into the abyss. I stumble to get on my feet and run to the edge to see its falling, but there's nothing.

Just darkness.

Newt appears to my right side, panting like crazy.

"Where did it go?" He asks, voice filled with confusion, but I'm too excited to question anything right now.

"Newt, we– we did it," I breathe out, and Newt pats my shoulder with a wide grin on his face.

"We bloody did."

"So, what happened?" I finally ask the question that has been burning on the back of my mind for a while now. We're leaning against the ivy wall, staring into the darkness that's actually not so dark anymore – sunrise is probably not too far. We agreed that this would be our best shot at staying alive – staying here, waiting for the other Grievers. We're sitting next to each other, our shoulders touching, and Newt turns his head from the edge of the Maze to me.

He bites his lip, obviously knowing what I'm talking about. "We, uh– the thing was right there, where Minho had found it. Just lying there, and we were about to go examine it, when more Grievers appeared. They came out of nowhere and we barely had time to hide. The other Grievers didn't notice us, they just– like, circled around the dead one and started to– man, I don't even know what. They just, like, started kind of…I dunno, bloody humming around the dead one, and I swear they stayed circled around it for at least half an hour."

I can feel my brows furrowing as I'm trying to come up with any sane reason for the Grievers to act the way Newt describes. He stares at his hands and continues: "Then, just as fast as they appeared, they were suddenly just…gone. We couldn't stare the whole time, since we were hiding behind the ivies and all, but it was bloody weird. And the dead one was still just lying there. We waited for a long time before venturing out of our hiding spot, and since the thing was still just lying on the ground, we really thought it was dead."

I'm feeling taken aback. "What, so it wasn't dead, then?"

"No," Newt smirks in a sad way, "It bloody wasn't. I was this close to poking it with my finger when Minho suddenly yelled and pushed me out of the way. When I looked up, I saw one of the Griever's…limbs squeezing the air where I has been standing half a second ago. And the thing was waking up. We started running and we tried to stay together at first, but it was bloody crazy, there were suddenly more Grievers and we had no other choice than to separate."

I think Newt's finished and I'm about to open my mouth and say something reassuring about how Minho knows the Maze like his own pockets, but Newt's not done yet. "So I ran, and for a while I thought – like, sure, I would risk you all by running straight to the Glade with a Griever behind me, but I thought we could handle it together. But then I realized I was lost – at some point, the Maze had started changing."

"Changing –"

"Yeah, the Maze changes every night, and that only happen at nights. I have no buggin' idea what triggered the Maze into acting like that, it's crazy – but it started changing hours before it was supposed to. And that's not all," Newt bitterly laughs, "it didn't follow any of the earlier patterns. See, every night the Maze changes, and we've noticed that it follows a certain pattern. Every thirty days the changing system starts from the beginning, and the same changes occur. But not only was it way too early – it didn't follow a bloody pattern at all."

I'm having kind of a hard time trying to assimilate the fact that the Maze friggin' changes every night, and no one's bothered to mention that to me earlier, thank you very much. I sense that Newt's story isn't over, yet, but I don't rush him.

Newt takes a deep breath. "Anyway, since the Maze was changing, I had no idea how to get back. So I just ran and after growing the distance enough I climbed as high as I could and waited for the bugger to pass me."

My mouth hangs open. "You– and it worked? It didn't notice?"

"Yeah, believe it or not– those shanks are fast but they're everything but smart."

"Newt, that's…that's amazing," I breathe out, and Newt glances at me, looking confused. His cheeks have the slightest amount of pink on them but maybe it's just from the events of the evening rather than from my words.

"Um, anyway – I have no idea what happened to Minho. At least one of the buggers went after him but– I don't know…"

"Hey, Minho's a clever guy and he knows the Maze like his pockets," I try to reassure him, but he just huffs.

"So did I, but then the Maze decided to go all crazy and I was more lost than ever."

"Yeah, but…if you managed to survive, Minho must've made it too," and it's really kind of risky to try joking about it this soon, but it works – Newt smirks and ruffles his hair, looking a little less worried already.

"Well, you got that right, shank," he snorts, and I don't know which one of us is more surprised when he suddenly leans his head against my neck. I can feel his warm breath on my skin, making me shiver, and I don't give a damn if it's the shoulder that got scraped by the Griever because my heart's thumping against my ribcage as if trying to break free again.

I gulp. "Newt –"

"Do you think we knew each other?" He interrupts me with a question, and I feel confused for a second before realizing what he's aiming for.

"You mean…before?" I answer with a question, and Newt slightly nods, the thick, blond hair tickling me a little.

"Do you think we were friends?"

Even though it takes me a while to answer him, doesn't mean the answer's not on my mind the second Newt asks.

"Yeah. I think we were friends."

We sit there for the rest of the night, not saying a word. At some point Newt's breathing turns so even that I guess he's sleeping, and I don't dare to wake him up. We still have a long way to go to get back to the Glade.

I turn my head in the slightest to watch the sky change its color from dark to orange, yellow and finally light blue. My own eyes are starting to shut and I have to resist the urge to just fall asleep here, because no matter how peaceful it might seem right now, we don't know if the Grievers are really gone. I hate myself a little for waking Newt up – he really needs the sleep – but he'll be able to sleep when we reach the Glade, anyway.

"Newt, hey," I mumble, and he immediately stirs awake and straightens his sitting position – much to my disappointment. "I think we should try going back now."

"Yeah," he yawns, and I yawn, too, as I stand up and start stretching my stiffened muscles. Wow, they definitely remember the running from the night.

Newt gets up, too, but a lot slower than I did. I realize his leg must still be bugging him.

"Do you need help?" I ask, offering my hand to him, and Newt takes a careful step, as if to test whether or not his leg's going to bear walking. The hiss that escapes from his lips tells me enough, and I hurriedly step forward to help.

"No, I– I think I can walk," Newt says, but takes a little support from my hand before taking another step. This time he only cringes, so I guess with a little help, he can make it.

"Here, lean on me," I say, offering my shoulder, and Newt curls his slim hand around my uninjured shoulder, letting me support him. The first steps are hard but one by one the walking gets easier and with Newt guiding me, I feel more hopeful than ever because no matter what happens now – we survived the night.

During our walk, Newt explains me that apparently only one section of the Maze was going mad during yesterday. That's why the section we're currently in didn't change at all and Newt's actually able to find the right way to the Glade. I just nod, too tired to form actual words, and we keep walking.

Then, friggin' finally when we turn left for the last hallway, we're greeted with a sight that I never imagined would make me this happy. The Glade.

We hurry the last steps and when we finally get to the Glade, Newt loosens his grip and falls on his ass, too tired to stay standing. I lean to my knees and breathe hard, too amazed by the fact that we're really here, alive and well.

"Thomas!" I hear a voice I've grown to know well – Chuck. "Thomas, Newt – you're alive!" And then the shorter boy's hugging me and it should be weird but it isn't.

"Hey, Chuck," I laugh, and Chuck looks like somebody just told him he's going home today.

"I was so sure you were…and we wanted to go after you, but she didn't let us and –"

And it's funny how much just one word can change – I feel my blood running cold and I glance at Newt, who meets my gaze, looking just as confused as I'm feeling.

"She?" I interrupt Chuck's blabber, and he gulps loudly.

"Um, yeah, I totally forgot you didn't know – the girl's awake," Chuck mutters, the smile totally disappeared, and I frown.

"And?" I encourage him, because there's obviously more to it than he's telling us.

"And, um, about that– Thomas, you should be careful with her, I think she's trying to –"

"Tom!"

Chuck flinches as a high, feminine voice interrupts his talking. He immediately lowers his gaze to the ground as if he wasn't really here, and goes to Newt, as if checking his state. I raise my gaze to see the figure storming towards us, the long, raven-black hair and startlingly beautiful face.

"Tom, I can't believe this!" She yelps, before running the last, few steps and basically throwing herself in my arms. I'm too startled to think of anything to say.

"Are you alright? I was so worried," She sighs, still hugging me, and I have no idea what to do with my hands that are just hanging by my sides. I don't get how she doesn't notice my stiffness, but since she doesn't seem to be letting go anytime soon, I reluctantly raise my arms to pat her back awkwardly. I can see Newt staring at us with a strange expression on his face, and I'm trying to message him with my eyes that I have no idea who this girl is or why she's acting the way she is, but suddenly she turns her head a little and the feeling of her lips on my ear is making me shiver in an uncomfortable way.

"Tom, before you say anything, I think we have a problem," she whispers so quietly I can hardly make out what she's saying.

And after hearing the next words she whispers in my ear, I feel my blood going cold and I wish I didn't hear the words after all.

"It's about Newt. He needs to be banished."

END OF CHAPTER 5

Ta-da!

Sooo what did ya think? Like it, hate it? I really hope the ending wasn't too confusing. If some of you didn't get it: no, Thomas does not remember Teresa but Teresa definitely remembers lil' Tom-Tom.

I wanna apologize again for the typos - my beta will fix that soon :D

Anyway, thank you for all of you who waited and still had even the slightest interest towards this story, I love you! :* Next chapter won't take as much time as this one but I still have one exam next Friday so 'til then, most of my free time will be spent studying.

But anyway, see ya (hopefully) soon!