In through the nose, out through the mouth, I thought as I dumped the last bucket of water on the flaming fire.

Gally had made us all help with the clean up of the Glade, and he put me in charge of putting out all the fires. I haven't seen anyone else in a while—maybe they were all asleep. I wouldn't blame them, last night was a literal shit show. We lost half of our Gladers, plus our leader. Half of the boys that made this place reach its peak, and now they were gone. So was the Glade.

After all the smoke and darkness had gone, I was finally able to get a clear view of what our home had become. The Council Hall was ripped to shreds, and so was everything else. All the crops had been burned...torn up from the ground like they were some type of weed that the Grievers had to pull. The Homestead was the only thing still standing. That's where everyone was right now. Everyone except for Thomas and Teresa. Gally threw them in the pit the first chance he got. He was about to throw me in as well, but Newt changed his mind.

As soon as the last patch of flames turned into nothing but smoke, I coughed once, trying not to inhale it like I had the dust. I dropped the bucket on the floor and made my way back to the Homestead in search of a blonde Brit. We haven't really spoken since last night. He didn't come and say anything to me when he finished his job cleaning up, he just walked back into the Homestead. I can't blame him, I wouldn't want to talk to anyone either if I had just watched my best friend die, and I wasn't able to try and save him. But like always, Newt needed help, and someone wasn't there to console him.

Sometimes I think that I should be upset by his overwhelming selflessness. That I should be mad whenever he puts other people before himself, even when he knows that he should get the attention. But at other times, I admire him for it. How he always manages to make sure everyone is happy before he asks himself whether he is, which I know he isn't. He tries so hard to seem okay, even if he's constantly crying on the inside. I've only heard a fraction of what goes on in his mind that one time where we were drunk and he let a single word slip. And then there was that one time where we kissed... Even if he didn't mean to be vulnerable, he was. Of course, it broke my heart, how could your heart not be broken when you're watching someone you care about so much crumble to the ground and still hold everything in. But that's just the way he is. Newt would never feel happy if it meant that everyone else around him didn't.

Before I made my way into my room, I paused. My handle was on the doorknob, but I didn't turn it. I looked down the hall to the left and before I could think about it any more, I made my way into Newt's room.

He was laying on his cot, facing the wall. His knees were pulled up to his waist, and both of his hands were under his head, in a somewhat sleeping position. His weapons were thrown onto the ground like he had no energy to put them somewhere else. I picked them up and gently set them on the dresser and out of the way, just in case he had to get somewhere in a hurry, he wouldn't step on his machete. The candle was unlit on his dresser as well, and I took the liberty of grabbing the packet of matches and very quietly lighting the candle inside the jar, making a little light shed through his room. His pillow was covering the window, keeping anyone from looking in, and light from seeping through the cracks. That was the only thing I didn't clean up.

I slowly made my way over to him and sat down right by his head, seeing his mouth slightly open and his eyes closed in a state of temporary tranquility. With a small smile, I brushed a piece of his bangs that had fallen onto his forehead, away. His eyebrows furrowed at my touch, but they slowly relaxed. I gently ran my fingers through his hair, being careful not to pull out any tangles that would wake him up. The boy needed sleep.

After about five minutes of repeating the action, just listening to his shallow breathing and wondering if he was having a dream, I sighed and stood up. I quickly knelt down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, then I stood up and started to make my way out of the room.

"Don't leave." A sudden voice called out to me. I stopped in my tracks immediately and turned around to Newt, who was still in the same position. I wasn't even sure if I was hearing things or if he was genuinely speaking to me.

"Newt?" I asked in a gentle whisper, wondering if he was calling me back.

"Please stay." The unmistakable voice spoke from the cot. He sounded weak, hurt.

I nodded and made my way back to the place I was sitting before. I was right next to his head, and as soon as I sat down, he rolled over so that he was now facing my body. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and he lifted his head down onto my lap like a little boy wanting his mother to comfort him. I ran my hands gently down his back, wanting to be there for him in any way that I could.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "I didn't really go to sleep. I was just faking it," His voice cracked, "Didn't want to talk to anyone."

"We don't have to talk if you don't want to," I replied, making him nod. I pat his back once, telling him to sit up. He did, and I adjusted my place so that I now had my back against the wall. Newt stayed curled up in his little ball, bringing his arms to his chest but resting his head on my lap once again.

We just sat like that. He drew small patterns on my knee, probably trying to distract himself from having to face the reality that his best friend was dead. If I were him, I wouldn't want to talk about it either. After I saw Ben's banishing, I didn't want to speak to anyone. Minho basically forced me to. I probably would've talked to Newt, but I would've done it unwillingly. I would've just wanted him here like this.

I slowly rubbed his back and his arm. At one point, he got too hot and took off his white sweater, making my heartbeat stop for a millisecond before he returned to the fetal position he was in before. My left hand brushed through his hair like before, and we just stayed like that, enjoying each other's presence. I never thought that I would enjoy laying with someone, not even talking. The only sound that I could hear were Thomas' muffled screams coming from the pit. I still don't know why he decided to put himself through that...in my opinion, it was a stupid move.

But I wasn't thinking about that right now. My mind focused solely on the boy in front of me. His eyes were open, but he wasn't really here. He was in a different world right now, one where he was probably reminiscing on the thoughts of the things he and Alby had done together. All the tough times they had managed to get through, and all of the fun they probably had in between. From what I knew, they were some of the first Gladers. I don't exactly know when Newt was sent up, but Alby was the first one. And when he met a friend like Newt, I can imagine not wanting to lose him. It's how I felt. It pained me that I couldn't say anything to make him feel better...I mean what do you say after someone you care about looses someone like their best friend? There's nothing you can say.

"Mae?" Newt finally spoke. I hummed in response, temporarily forgetting the English language at the sound of his raspy voice. He sighed, almost like he was forcing the words out of his mouth, "When...When you first came up in the Box...did y-you remember me?"

I inhaled sharply at the question, not expecting it in the slightest. I shook my head, feeling like I had just been caught off-guard. But once I had the response in my brain, I made sure not to talk too loud, feeling like this moment was too precious, "Um...well I didn't really remember anyone. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't remember anything. My family, my name, I didn't even remember what food tasted like. But when you helped me calm down my breathing, I...felt as though I knew you from somewhere. You were familiar."

I sighed, wondering if Newt was going to say anything. When he didn't, I kept talking, "Didn't tell anyone because I didn't want people to think I was more suspicious than they thought—being the only girl, I mean. But as soon as I looked into your eyes I knew that I must've known you somewhere else."

I awaited his response, maybe feeling like he actually went asleep now. But when he shifted and sat himself up, I knew he wasn't. Newt looked into my eyes like he was holding back so many words. All I wanted right now was for him to open up. Maybe just a little crack into what he was thinking... I wanted to help.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was like he had to force himself to speak them, "I thought you were familiar too," I tried not to show how surprised I was by clenching my jaw and gently grabbing onto his hands, "And...I've been ha-having this same reoccurring dream...of you and me."

"What is it?" I asked softly, "It's okay if you don't want to tell me...just whatever you're comfortable with."

He nodded before speaking, "In the dream, it always starts with you waking me up. And I always remember feeling," He looked up to the sky, trying to find the word, "I always feel so...happy at that part. And then you walk to the bathroom."

My jaw clenched even harder, now knowing what dream he was having. But I let him speak, "Every time I have the dream...you look...worse and worse every time. Th-The first time I had it, you just looked super tired, but as time went on...your veins were all blue and stuff," He shook his head like he was trying to get the image out of his brain, "But no matter how bloody awful you look, I always think that you're beautiful."

I let out a small smile, "Thank you."

He nodded, letting the corners of his mouth twitch up as well, "And then you started crying, and I start reciting these words...like a buggin' prayer. Every time it's the same thing..."

He took a deep breath like he was going to start reciting the words, "It goes like...One day we're gonna get out of this place..."

I literally felt my heart stop as soon as he said those nine words. My head felt like it was going to explode from what Newt was telling me right now. If we knew each other before the Maze, then what were we? All of this was just confirming my thoughts of what the dream actually was. A memory of some sort. The question is, what happened to Newt at the end?

"We're gonna get out, and we're gonna get as far away from this place as we can," I began reciting the same words with him. His head shot up in surprise, and his eyes widened for a moment before we continued to recite it together, "We're gonna go somewhere safe. Somewhere they can never touch you again."

"When we're older," We continue, almost in tears, "We're gonna have a dog named Lucy. We're gonna live in a house on a beach..."

A small fear felt out of my eye as Newt leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, "And we're gonna be happy, and we're gonna grow old together."

We both laughed before saying the last words together, "We're gonna be old people..."

He wiped the tear from my eye, something else besides sadness now, "What are we? Some strange bloody witches or something?"

I shrugged, smiling, "I don't know, but I think we have the same reoccurring dream."

Newt brushed a piece of my hair out from my face, and he gently pressed his lips to my forehead. My heart was heavy, but in the best way possible. All of this must've been some strange voodoo stuff, or maybe our memories were coming back...but I highly doubted that. It was crazy that even in a moment such as this, where Newt was mourning the death of his best friend, we somehow managed to put things into perspective and make each other feel better. I don't know how we did it, but somehow we did. Maybe that's because our brains are strangely similar, or because it was just meant to be like that. I don't really believe in all of this soulmate stuff...I don't even remember what the concept is, but if I were to ever believe in it, I think Newt would be the closest thing to one that I can imagine.

He sniffled through his nose, pulling away only to grab my knee again, "What does that even mean? Did we know each other before this or something?"

I shrugged, wiping a tear from my own eye, "I dunno...I think so. I think it's some sort of shucked up memory. Do you remember the day I first showed you the sunrise? Before Thomas ever showed up?"

"Yeah," He nodded, "What about it?"

"That night I had the dream. The same one you just explained. That's why I came down early and said I wanted to live on a beach," I laughed, shaking my head, "I thought it was so weird..."

"I had the same dream that night too," Newt grabbed the sides of my face and kissed each of my cheeks, "What the bloody hell is going on?"

"I don't know..." I laughed again, smiling into his hands.

Suddenly, another ear piercing scream echoed through the Glade. Newt and I both turned our heads towards the window that was still covered up by the pillow. I quickly moved out of his grasp, and I pulled down the pillow. I saw Minho and Chuck heading towards the pit where Thomas and Teresa were, and I turned back to Newt, who was already off the bed and pulling his white sweater over his head.

I stood up as well, quickly putting my hair into a ponytail and grabbing the weapons off of the dresser for him. He swung the machete strap over his head, letting it rest on his shoulders like he always did. We both made out way out of his room and down to the pit, following Minho and Chuck as they did as well. We avoided Gally for obvious reasons, knowing that he wouldn't like it if we went to talk to Thomas. If he was going to wake up soon, we needed to be right next to him. If he was willing to tell us what he remembered, then maybe we could finally escape this prison.

"Is he awake yet?" I asked Minho as we approached the cell the two Greenies were in.

He shook his head, pointing to the still unconscious Thomas, "We gave him the syringe so he should be up in a few minutes," The Runner turned to Newt, "How are you?"

Newt shrugged, "Fine..."

I swallowed and placed my hand on his knee, he immediately grabbed it and held it there, almost like he needed the comfort. The four of us watched as Thomas got through the last of the Changing, whimpering in pain and muttering incoherent things under his breath. Teresa held his head on her lap, and I looked at her, still trying to decide whether or not I liked her. Granted, she was pretty, and she was funny. I remembered laughing with Newt when all of the rocks were falling from the sky. But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to trust her.

Suddenly, Thomas inhaled a sharp breath and snapped his eyes open to look at the face of Teresa.

"Hey," She greeted, "Are you okay?" Thomas looked around her face before sitting up with a groan. I shook my head at him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I asked leaning forward on the closed trapdoor. Thomas looked up at all of us, seeming confused.

He shook his head, trying to get the grogginess out of his mind, "What happened?"

"Gally has taken control," Newt responded, disappointed, "He said we had no choice. Either join him...or get banished at sundown with you."

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, "And the others agreed to that?"

"He has everyone convinced that your the reason all this has happened," He spoke in a soft voice.

I swallowed and nodded, remembering the short conversation we had after Thomas was thrown into the pit. Newt then shifted his position, moving his left leg over a little bit and placing his elbow on my right thigh. I looked over at him, thinking that his leg was probably hurting him a little extra today from all of the running we did yesterday.

I looked back at Thomas just in time to see him sigh, "Well, he's been right so far..."

"What are you talking about?" Minho asked as soon as the words left Thomas' mouth. We were all thinking the same thing, some of us were just better at hiding how shocked we were.

Thomas pointed to me, "Do you remember when we thought this was a prison?"

I nodded, not speaking still. He looked back at all of us and shrugged, "It's not a prison, it's a test," He paused, looking at the ground. He took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, "It all started when we were kids. They would give us these challenges...They were experimenting on us."

I ignored the fact that Thomas looked at me the whole time that he spoke the last sentence.

"And then people started disappearing...every month, one after the other, like clockwork," Thomas finished, now darting his eyes around the cell.

I looked at Newt, remembering the dream where he was being taken away, "They would send them up into the Maze," I finished, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

Thomas nodded, "Yeah, but not all of us."

Newt furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at him, "What do you mean?"

I'm guessing he wasn't proud of this statement, because Thomas' eyes suddenly started watering like he was going to start crying. I looked down at him with a gentle gaze, silently letting him know that he could tell us anything. Apparently he got the message, because he opened his mouth to speak, "Guys, I'm one of them. The people who put you here, I worked with them..."

I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose and closed my eyes, feeling my cheeks start to heat up as he kept talking, "I watched you guys for years. This entire time you've been here...I've been on the other side," He suddenly turned to Teresa, "So were you..."

My head darted up and I looked at the girl, who was shaking her head in disbelief, "What?"

"Teresa, we did this to them..." Thomas tried to reason with her. She kept shaking her head as if she didn't believe it herself. I kept my eyes on the dirt below us, my head swimming back into the abyss of dark thoughts.

"No," She tried to deny it, "That can't be true."

"It is. I saw it..."

I've never been one for asking questions, but now I felt like I had to. So many were swimming through my mind that it felt like I was going to explode. Like I was going to throw up if I didn't have at least one of them answered.

"Why would they send us up if we were with them?" She asked, making me turn my head towards her.

Thomas shook his head, "It doesn't matter..."

Just when I was going to speak again, Newt beat me to it, somehow calming everyone down with his gentle voice, "He's right."

All heads turned to him. He was scratching the back of his neck nervously and frowning, although he looked like he was disappointed, the words that came out of his mouth showed otherwise, "It doesn't matter. Any of it. The people we were before the Maze—they don't even exist anymore," He looked at me, "These Creators took care of that. But what does matter is who we are now, and what we do right now."