*Unknown Intentions*

I stared at Thomas for a few more seconds, before turning back to Axel, solemn and quiet. I suddenly felt a twang of sympathy for him; he'd been so eager to see Harriet again, but now he was almost reluctant to. In case she was like Newt.

Axel. Please... it might not be the same.

His nostrils flared, and he suddenly spoke aloud, regarding me with a harsh glare. "It's a pattern, Rowan, of course it's going to be the same!" He snapped, standing sharply. Then he strode out of the room, knocking past Thomas.

He glanced at me in confusion, but I ignored him and sank to the floor, burying my head in my lap. Why did I have to make a mess of everything? How could I have been so selfish?

"Uh, Rowan?" Thomas asked gently, and the floorboards creaked sullenly as he waded across them.

He stopped, and I felt his presence beside me; hesitant, reluctant.

"Shall I get Newt?" He asked after some time, his voice monotonous. Was he... jealous?

My heart fluttered and I refused to glance up. But I shook my head; seeing Newt would probably make it worse.

"It's fine," I whispered, my voice quivering. I took a shaky breath and scrambled to my feet. There was nothing I could say to Axel at the moment; he needed time alone. But when the time was right, I knew where to find him. "We need to get everything sorted out; we're going to leave this place."

I ushered Thomas to the door, and quickly glanced back at Azela. You rest. When you feel ready, come and join us.

She nodded and her head dropped back to the pillow.

I followed Thomas down the steps and hurried back out into the Glade.

"Kyle and Soldier are with Minho and Newt in the map room; they're showing them the location of the exit."

I nodded distractedly. I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying; my mind was too occupied with the prospect of making Newt remember me. All I had to do was touch his head, right?

"-is it exactly?"

"Huh?" I snapped out of my thoughts. Thomas was gazing at me expectantly as we walked through the prickly grass. His eyebrow arched. "Uh, sorry, what were you saying?"

"Where is the exit exactly?" He repeated quietly, nodding to Chuck as he passed.

"It's through an invisible hole over the edge of a cliff," I replied, matter-of-factly.

He stared at me skeptically, but I met his gaze coolly.

"You're being serious aren't you?"

I nodded solemnly, but a smile tugged at my lips as Thomas suddenly chuckled to himself. "I suppose nobody ever thought of that."

"I suppose," I sighed.

Silence reigned for the rest of the trip to the map room, but as we stopped outside the shabby doors, Thomas suddenly blurted a question that looked to have been bothering him the entire time.

"Are you going to do it to Newt?" He said before he could stop himself, suddenly training his eyes on the ground.

Although the question was obscure, I managed to grasp his meaning. I was pondering the exact same thing. "I don't know," I said in a hushed tone. "I want to, but... it doesn't feel like the right time. And what about Alyssa? What if he ends up angry with himself and WICKED because of what they did to him and he... does something reckless and stupid?!" I murmured, suddenly taking in a sharp breath. Why did I keep blurting all my true thoughts to him; I barely even knew him...

"Plus, it might distract him from the task at hand..." Thomas suggested, and I trained my gaze on him sharply. He didn't want me to tell Newt?

My lips quivered, I was prepared to protest, but... what if he was right?

I didn't have time to decide as the door suddenly flung open, and Minho floundered out. Of course, we looked a little suspicious - Thomas and I were staring at each other, and I hadn't registered how close we were stood - and Minho took the liberty of pointing it out.

"You might want to think about doing, y'know, that, in a more private area," he smirked, and Thomas' cheeks flushed red.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, my mood suddenly turning sour.

What was I to do?! Why couldn't I just have died by Glenn's hand; then I wouldn't have to be in this mess. I wouldn't have to face the difficulty of being forgotten by the one I loved; the difficulty of trying to help everyone; the difficulty of coping with ridiculous mind powers.

"Rowan!" Kyle exclaimed in surprise as I stomped heavily into the shack. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," I murmured, avoiding Newt's questioning glance. "Are we ready to get moving yet?"

Soldier and Kyle exchanged a sweeping glance, but I ignored it and stared blankly at the map, sprawled out along the table.

"Uh, not quite. Most of the gladers are getting everything packed up. Then we need to get weapons and we should be sorted," Kyle explained, his eyes narrowed as if trying to see past my blank stare.

"Rowan and I will get the weapons," Thomas offered as he walked in behind me.

"Actually, I'll go with her," Newt suddenly intervened, and my heart jolted. My stomach felt jittery.

"Don't you need to take care of things here?" Thomas challenged, a hard edge to his tone.

What was wrong with him?

Newt shook his head, gritting his teeth. His eyes hardened. "These shanks have things handled," he responded, his voice strangely calm.

I was about to intervene when a girl with dark, wavy hair stumbled in.

"We have trouble," she said breathlessly. "Gally and his shuck-faced builders are refusing to come with us."

Newt grumbled under his breath. "Fine; I'll take care of this. Where's Alby?"

The girl shrugged and stepped back as Newt stormed out, glaring at Thomas. She suddenly flashed us both a quick smile, before retreating outside, after him.

Kyle and Soldier exchanged another baffled glance.

I sighed again, my shoulders heaving. "I suppose we'd better get these weapons."

Thomas nodded, his face placid, and led the way back outside the shack.

"Where'd you keep them, then?" I asked, remembering they used to be kept in a chest in the map room.

"In the council shack; it's the most sturdiest structure here."

I nodded.

My thoughts were suddenly cast back to the night I was stabbed; the night the grievers attacked; the night Glenn returned; the night half of the gladers died... holy shuck.

"What was the Maze like when you got here?" I suddenly blurted, pausing mid-step.

"What do you..." he suddenly trailed into a surprised silence, glancing at me incredulously. "Holy shuck... you're remembering the night you were stabbed, aren't you? When the buildings were burnt down. But... but when I arrived... everything was practically how it is now. There were at least fifty boys... no girls... then Teresa came and after that, the other four came." His voice rose with pitch as confusion and realisation muddled his words.

"When was the last time you had a Greenie?"

"Three months ago," Thomas choked out, suddenly glancing about the field. "But... how is this possible? Nobody remembers what happened; they can't have rebuilt the place."

I shook my head in frustration. More questions raced through my mind. Nothing added up. Nothing made sense. What the shuck was going on here? What was WICKED planning?

"The walls don't close on a night anymore, do they?"

Thomas shook his head.

"But the grievers don't enter the maze?"

He shook his head again.

My nostrils flared. "None of this is adding up!" I cried in frustration, throwing my hands up. "What are WICKED planning?"

Thomas shook his head, his eyes suddenly clearing. When he spoke, his voice was oddly calm and reassuring. "I don't know, but when we finally get out of here, we won't have to. We can forget about all of this. Just... don't panic yet. You need to stay strong for the other gladers. They're all relying on you and the others to get them out of here; don't disappoint them."

His words flung me back to reality. He was right. I had to stay strong. No more worrying about the future. No more worrying about WICKED.

I had to trust Kyle and Soldier; they knew what they're doing. They knew how to get us out. They knew how to solve all of this.