ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ, ɢʀᴇᴇɴɪᴇ

What greeted you was a stomach-churning site. A Glader had seemingly jumped from the walls, and was writhing in pain, blood pooling atop the dirt patch of the maze entrance. It was Newt.

You, Jeff, and Clint nursed him back to health, but you had been the one to truly be there day and night, even going as far as sleeping in the chair most nights beside him. It terrified you, to lose not only Second in Command, but your friend, your then best friend. It would then be days before he woke up, and the screams were horrifying, to say the least. Newt was in pain, and there was nothing to subside it. Not only did you have to nurse him following his wake, but further take the blunt of his grabbing at you, his seething anger towards you for saving him.

And that anger never left. . .

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