"If you ain't SCARED, you ain't HUMAN."

         brāk/əp verb / slang

to cease to exist as a unified whole

Things had not been... ideal for several months now. It was a few weeks after they had just graduated from high school and almost a year since Newt had attempted to kill himself.. Alby stuck by him, like he said he would -- like he was supposed to. He had put up with the mood swings and the depression and the hostility ---- done it gladly (most of the time) in fact, because he knew Newt was his best friend and he was hurting and while he was no doctor, he could do exactly what a best friend was supposed to do. Exactly what he would expect Newt to do if the roles were reversed. Exactly what Newt had done for him several times in the past.

And the school year came and went, with all its usual torments with the added responsibility of watching out for and taking care of Newt out of love more than obligation. They’d grown closer than friends while they were both healing, and they both did, against all odds, graduate. Neither were accepted to college ---- Alby had been so focused on ... other things that he hadn’t filled out the applications properly or sent them in by the due date or something.

Subtle at first, but becoming increasingly prevalent, these stresses had been building up for a while, even before they had started dating. It was suddenly getting easier and easier for Alby to reach the boiling point and that, among other factors, had caused a great deal of strain on their relationship until one day, mid-June, it got to its worst.

His mother was so disappointed in him. She gave Alby yet another lecture on working hard over the summer and getting a tutor to help him fill out his application and hundreds of other degrading ‘pointers’ on how to better his life; it was getting harder and harder to deal with her, especially when the topic of college came up. Alby had stormed out of the door, claiming that he had plans with Newt he was supposed to be keeping (much to his mother’s (ignored) protests). 

Newt never minded track practice until the temperature started dropping into the low thirties and of course they had practice today, why wouldn’t they? A little praying for it to snow enough so he wouldn’t have to go to practice had done him no good, of course. So now he pulled on his cold weather track clothes and grabbed his track team jacket before also putting a coat over it. He may have looked ridiculous, but he’d rather risk making a fashion flop than freezing to death. He hears Alby knocked and glances at the clock before he starts cursing. Of course he was running late. “I’ll be there in a minute!” He yells, pulling his running shoes on before heading  out the door. “Sorry bout that. Didn’t realize what bloody time it was.”

Alby perked up a little when he heard the door open and put on a faux grouchy face when he stepped outside. “Yeah, and apparently you didn’t  realize what year it was either; you’re literally going to miss the first half of  practice, Jesus...” He turned and started down the sidewalk towards their school before letting a small smile peek through, “What’re you wearing, any- way?” Alby asked, walking briskly, perfectly willing to leave him behind or so  he claimed. “Did you forget what continent we were in, too, I mean c’mon.” In truth, the elder didn’t mind all that much that they were ridiculously late and that he was wearing three coats; he actually, at risk of sounding cheesy, looked forward to these walks and watching his practices. Being a senior, the most stress he had to worry about was applying to colleges; otherwise, he now had practically all the time in the world to go to these track practices  in the freezing cold

It was a only a few weeks away from Christmas, but there was just  a biting cold in the air and a thin spread of snow on the ground-- not enough to do much of anything creative with and not enough to look like a wonderland. Pretty dissatisfying, really. --- Anyway, he was supposed to be getting Newt so they could walk to his track practice (why they practiced during break in the bitter winter would forever be a mystery to him). Skipping a few steps on his stoop, he brusquely knocked on the door four times and took a step back. Such formality was hardly needed anymore, but if they didn’t hurry up, Newt was gonna be late and Alby was not about to have the entire team start tryin’a blame it on him like they had in times past. Alby tugged on his hat a little as he waited with forced patience for the other.

He’d done it. He’d really done it. Done what he’d set out to do the day before and had failed to do. But he failed again today, only in an even worse way. Yesterday had had only the consequence of being yelled at. This one was met with pain, so much pain. And  even worse than that, it was met with waking up in the Glade,  medjacks standing all around him just before he fell back into unconsciousness. He was alive. The one thing he didn’t want to be and yet there he was. They’d saved him. How fucking dare  they? Who gave them the right? It was his life, his choice, they should have left him out there to die, they had no right to drag  him back here with every part of him wanted to be as far away from this place as possible.  When he wakes again, he’s met with pain once again, but on a  much smaller level. He didn’t think he was going to pass out this time away (unfortunately) and what was even worse was he was pretty sure he wasn’t dying today. Nope. And great, Alby’s here too, probably to chew him out all over again. Newt wasn’t sure he could take that again.

Even after not getting any sleep last night, Alby stayed up as Newt was passed out, but thankfully still alive, to make sure nothing hap- pened to him while the Medjacks did what they could before he woke up again. If he’d thought he was over their fight that afternoon, he must have been terribly wrong because, among all the other mem- ories he had of Newt, that most recent one wouldn’t quit bugging him. Regardless, he stuck with him, putting his damn huge pride aside long enough to realize that his best friend was hurt and would need someone around when he woke up -- someone that wouldn’t leave him, even when he told them to. He shouldn’t be alone, not when he’s all busted up like this. After an indeterminate amount of time, Alby noticed the blond start to stir, but he was too tired and stubborn to perk up as well. Instead, he just chose to greet him with a simple “hey”, not sure if there was anything else that needed to be said.

It was hard for Newt to concentrate on drawing his map when he was so angry, but he forced himself to calm down, if only for the  next hour or so, just so he would map his route out correctly. After he finally heads to bed, he makes sure to bed down somewhere  far from Alby, not wanting to hear anymore of that klunkhead’s  bloody blabbering over him. He’d forced himself to sleep, knowing  he’d need it for tomorrow. I sleepy runner wasn’t a good runner or a good thinker and he needed to be both of those things out in the maze, even if Alby seemed to think he wasn’t either of those things. The next morning he pretty much goes out of his way to avoid having any sort of conversation with the second. He’d decided. He was going to do it today. He couldn’t take this klunk anymore.  He’d almost went through with it yesterday, that’s why he’d been late. He’d chickened out last minute because… well, because of Alby, his best friend. Some best friend, huh? Even with his anger, Newt hoped that Alby wouldn’t blame himself too much. It wasn’t anyone’s fault after all.  With those thoughts, Newt ran out into the maze, already having decided he wouldn’t be coming back.

Alby had been distracted all day. Not only had he not gotten any sleep last night, but he couldn’t seem to get his head away from what had happened between him and Newt. Yeah, he knew he was wrong --- wasn’t he always? When he let his anger get the best of him? --- but he also couldn’t help but resent Newt for being so childish about the whole thing. It wasn’t until it was closer to lunchtime did the second start to feel normal again -- he figured he’d try to make the other under- stand his concern and try not to get angry and, y’know, apologize or something. He had been making sure everyone got some of Fry’s food when one of the Runners came up to get Nick -- that caught his interest, to say the least, since they didn’t normally get back until dark. Alby followed behind the other two, walking briskly, until they all got closer to the western doors, where his step faltered. He could see two figures approaching the Glade, but one of them wasn’t running -- couldn’t even support himself ’nd was practically being dragged the whole way. It only took a few more steps for something up in that empty head of his to click and for his stomach to drop to his feet. It was Newt. Being pulled along like a slaughtered pig or a bundle of firewood. His heart clenched suddenly and he found it hard to breathe but ran anyway, with Nick and Pierre, to help the two at the doors. Something wasn’t right. He could tell that much, but he had no way to know what happened -- no one could tell him anything beside that they had found him there and he was hurt and god dammit why did Alby have to be such a shuckin’ idiot. If the Medjacks couldn’t fix ‘im... Dammit, the last thing he’d remember about Alby was that fight. They all helped carry him to the Homestead. His heart beat fast and every- thing seemed to move in a blur past him and he tried to clear his head, to just do his shucking job, but to no avail. Once they got the Medjacks over and they started workin’ on him, Alby hung in the corner and tried not to make too much of a fuss, simmering in confusion, hurt, anxiety, and vague anger.

Newt sighs and he knows Alby isn’t going to leave him alone, not any time soon at least. He didn’t know whether to be  grateful or irritated or a little bit of both, honestly. “Fine, whatever.” He replies, making his way out the door. No wonder that kid had claimed he’d just did it for attention, with all of his friends constantly smothering him and his teachers taking pity and giving extensions on assignments and summer readings.

Walking down the hallway, Alby tried to make sparse conver- sation. He himself wasn’t much one for filling the silence, but  wanted to try to get that fuckface of a loser out of Newt’s mind,  especially if he didn’t want him to take care of business or what- ever. He just didn’t want him to feel alone, more than anything, even though that seemed to be bothering him more than making him feel better -- regardless, Alby wasn’t going to turn his back on him. He wasn’t going to lose him if there was absolutely any- thing he could do to help it.

“I don’t need you to start picking fights for me.” Newt replies, grabbing his crutches since his leg was still in a cast from his accident in track. He pulls himself up out of his seat, starting  to head for the door. “I can take care of myself.” He says,  though the sentence immediately feels awful as it settles in his own ears. He couldn’t take care of himself. He had the hospital bills to prove it. 

Alby purses his lips a little at the statements, but decided he wouldn’t leave, even if he said he wanted him to. Lord knows Newt stuck by him through some shit; he wasn’t about to leave or get angry at him when he arguably needed him most. He stood up and grabbed the door for him, holding it open. “I don’ much care if you can take care’a yourself -- which you can’t -- you don’ have to. Shouldn’t have to. You c’n let me help, Newt; nobody thinks you have to deal with this shit alone.”

Newt actually rolls his eyes when his wrist was grabbed, irritation prickling through every nerve in the runner’s body. “No, I don’t  bloody get it!” The boy yells back, attempting to yank his wrist away from the second in command. “If I wouldn’t have made it back, then oh well, I’d be dead, someone would replace me, big shucking deal!” Once he’s free, he doesn’t give Alby the chance  to grab him again, taking several long strides to the door before opening it and slamming it shut behind him, practically stomping in the direction of the map room. He understood Alby’s concern  but his anger was unwarranted and Newt was sick of it. The blond didn’t scream his head off at Alby every time he did something stupid, but maybe he should start. 

He almost considered walking in after him, to try to do the impossible,  but realized the both of them had made the situation bad enough for  tonight. Alby trudged to bed, ignoring the irritated looks of other boys that had probably been trying to sleep. The events, few as they were, kept playing through his mind and Alby just couldn’t dismiss that knot of worry and anxiety that pulled at his stomach and made him want to vomit. Newt was being childish and so goddamn stupid about it, and it actually sort of worried him how apathetic he was about what may as well have been a suicide mission. The second knew he crossed a line, could see how frustrated Newt was with all his scoldings, and yet... and yet he couldn’t stop. If he did, the runner would do something so irrep- arably idiotic that he’d go and get himself killed -- no, he had to keep him in line somehow, even if it meant making him angry as well. While it was his job to make sure all the Gladers chipped and and didn’t do something stupid, Alby felt like he needed to keep a special eye on Newt. He was his best friend, and he couldn’t lose him. ... But holy hell that shank had some klunk for brains staying out so late and throwing the temper tantrum he did. By the time Alby was able to settle his thoughts enough to go to bed, the walls were already scra- ping open. Ordinarily, he would try to send the Runners off, but fig- ured he’d hang back today, at least. Besides, he was still overly pissed at Newt for how everything went down last night.

Newt hated this. He hated how everyone treated him now, whether it be people like the kid who’d harassed him today or whether it be his friends who seemed to tip toe around him now as if they might  set him off with one wrong word. “I don’t need help.” It’s a lie and he knows it’s an obvious one. “I’m fine. I’ve been fine and I will be fine.”

“C’mon, you know that’s not true,” he said quietly, looking at the carpeted floor for a moment before bringing his gaze up to study Newt. “Lemme teach ‘im a lesson or somethin’. You don’t have’ta put up with this shit, you know. I ain’t gonna let you get hurt if I c’n  help it, you know that.”

Newt was a bit surprised at just how angry Alby was. The runner boy had known that he would definitely be angry, there was no question  about it, he knew Alby had a temper, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He doesn’t even try to fight against the leader’s grip. He was strong but he was lean, the way most runners were. However, Alby was pretty much all muscle and easily overpowered the blond. “I made it  back in time! Stop makin’ such a fuss!” Newt yells back, his face red- dening. It was so unfair, Alby wouldn’t be yelling at anyone else like  this (most likely) so why the klunk did Newt have to get the sharp end of his anger. “I’m not an idiot, ya shuckface! I knew what I was doing!” His arms ache slightly where Alby’d had a tight grip on him, but he refuses to show it hurts. He’s not backing down, not this time. He’s tired of being treated like a child. “Now if yer quite done, I have a maze to map.” He says, turning to walk away from the other.

Alby turned to face him at his outburst --- while he couldn’t say they were undeserved in retrospect, they surprised him. He had been too  busy ruminating in his anger to think about his responses until they had happened. Reacting quickly and deciding he wasn’t done chew- ing him out, he reached for his wrist to keep him from going. “Hey --- you listen to me!! I don’ care if you made it back in time, you piece of klunk; you didn’t make it back in enough time, you get it?? You could ‘ave been stuck out there all night and --------” the second in command couldn’t finish the thought. Just couldn’t stand to. Alby dropped his wrist, suddenly disgusted with how he had reacted and done fighting with Newt about it for now. There was always time to fight about it later, to make him understand how it wasn’t alright. For now --- if he couldn’t see how much it mattered that he got there with the rest’a them, couldn’t see how dis- traught he was over all this shit --- Alby wasn’t going to try and explain something he himself didn’t understand to him. Besides, all this worry had burned him out, rendering him more exhausted than he had realized. “Wha’ever. Go draw yer stupid maze ‘nd go the shuck to bed,” he replied, sneering at the ground. “Jus’ don’t let it happen again, you moron.”

“No, really -- I mean ...” Alby sighed and ran a hand over his  head. He didn’t know how to handle him anymore --- which is  stupid. He was still Newt. He was still his best friend. The only  difference was... well, it was fairly obvious what the difference  was now. Alby was afraid of being too harsh, but also of being too gentle. He figured Newt didn’t want pity, but then again ... --- he just seemed more fragile now. Which is stupid and he should not be even thinking about that about his best friend, should just treat him the same as he always has, but... he couldn’t bring him- self to do it, not wholeheartedly. He still had to be cautious, for now anyway. “I wanna help you. Tell me how I c’n do that.”

“What the hell were you thinking??” A dangerous fury bubbled up inside Alby, and he couldn’t help it from spilling over -- it was how he had learned to survive, and it was his go-to response to any sort of anxiety or hurt. “Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking just then?? I want to know, because that was stupid as shit and you know it!!“ He latched on tightly to the other’s shoul- ders and was tempted to try and shake some sense into him, but  knew it wouldn’t help, not now anyway. Instead, he directed his angry glare to the ground and shoved him lightly away as he began pacing.  “Goddamned stupid-ass shit, shuckface.” Alby muttered, folding his arms as he continued to turn away from him. This had gone beyond all their stupid banter before that inevitably turned initial anger and concern into feelings of camaraderie and gratefulness ---- this was serious shit and Alby’s hands were shaking despite (because of?) the stinging rage whirling inside him. He just ... for as ridiculously smart Newt was, this was fucking stupid and the elder didn’t know how to handle himself amidst all of this. He could only manage a feeble headshake and an attempt to not strangle the shit out of the other.

Newt grins at the other boy, relaxing against him. “Mhm. But I’m your fool, shank.” He replies, pecking Alby’s lips again with a soft laugh. 

“Damn straight,” he mutters, rolling his eyes a little, but felt some butterflies nonetheless. A quiet laugh bubbles up and Alby shakes his head, wrapping Newt in a tight hug.

Newt’s grin widens and he pretends to think over the fake proposition before finally nodding. “Yeah, I think that sounds fair enough.” He replies before leaning in and pressing his lips to Alby’s again. He didn’t put much more thought into the fake scenario, it was just fake after all and he highly doubted giant robot scorpions would be a problem at any point in their lives so there was no reason to put any further though into it, at least in his mind. 

After a moment or so, Alby couldn’t help but chuckle. Whenever Newt was sickeningly happy, it was damn near infectious -- always has been -- and its effect was probably intensified in these early hours of the morning. “Yer a damn fool, Newt,” he teased, shaking his head as much as he could while keeping their foreheads together. “A straight up fool.”

“Yeah but with me by your side, that just makes ya ten times smarter.” He retorts with a grin, snaking his arms around Alby’s neck and pressing his forehead against the other boy’s. His smile widens at his last comment. “I know ya wouldn’t, and therefore you’d stay alive, because if ya died, then who’s gonna protect me, hmm?” Newt counters, pressing his lips to the corner of the other’s mouth. “Shank.”

He lowers his eyes and his smile falters for just a second. It was a fake scenario, but he didn’t really like thinking of not being able to protect Newt --- not that he particularly needed someone to protect him, it was just that... Alby felt like he needed to keep him safe -- and others to a degree, but especially him. He’d always cared about Newt, and never really wanted to see him hurt, even in their own imaginations. Neither of them could win; if Alby died first, Newt was left ‘defenseless’ (not really, Alby figured, since he was resourceful as klunk, but it still felt like it, without him around to stop any potential dangers), and if Newt died first, Alby will have failed to protect him. “I’ll propose a compromise then,” he said, smirking a little and closing his eyes. “We both live ‘r we go out together in th’ mouth of a giant robot scorpion. Deal?”