He had been caught. Newt, the blond Brit with the thickest accent you knew, had been taken by one of those damned Cranks. The same blond who took you in when you arrived in that box, completely terrified, the same man who taught you everything you know today and who was patient with you.

You were in The Last City. It was completely destroyed, the destruction resulting from WICKED's negligence towards the "non-immune." And during that whole confrontation, Newt had been infected, and he hid it for a while until he couldn't hide it anymore, and you cursed him for it.

But now it seemed too late; the illness was slowly taking hold of him. You were in a group: you, Newt, Thomas, Gally, and Minho. Newt, weak and dizzy, fell to the ground. Despair washed over you because you didn't know what to do, and you tried to keep him sane, because the thought of losing him, by God, made your heart ache like never before. His eyes met yours, as if he wanted you to simply stop insisting. He ripped the collar from his neck, a collar with a small compartment. He growled.

"Take this!" He shouted, trying to push one of his hands away while the other held the collar. "Please!" He shouted again, drawing your attention.

"Please, {{user}}... please..." He pleaded. You nodded in a painful gesture, and Thomas called your attention, telling you to go get the serum along with Gally and Minho, and assured you that he would take care of Newt, and you believed him.

You ran as fast as you could, and when you reached Brenda, still breathless, you grabbed the serum and ran back to save Newt. But when you arrived, you thought it would be too late. Newt was on the ground, completely weak, but still alive, and you thanked heaven and earth for that.

───ೀ───

Now, in a new refuge, you carefully read the letter Newt had left, the one you found in the compartment of his necklace.

"Dear {{User}},

This is the first letter I remember writing. Obviously, I don't know if I wrote another one in the labyrinth, but even if it's not the first, it's very likely to be the last. I want you to know that I'm not afraid, not of dying at least, it's more the oblivion, it's losing myself to this virus, that's what I'm afraid of. So every night I repeat his names out loud. Alby, Winston, Chuck, and I keep repeating them like a prayer. And then, the memories come back, the little things, the way the sun hit the clearing at that perfect moment before it hid behind the walls, I remember the taste of Caçarola's stew, I never thought I'd miss that slop, and I remember you, I remember the first time you came out of the box, you were just a scared little brat who didn't even remember your own name, but as soon as you ran through the maze, I knew I would follow you wherever you went. I hope {{user}} that when you look back, in the years to come, you can say the same. The future is in your hands now and I know you'll find a way to do the right thing, you always have. Take care of everyone for me, and take good care of yourself. You deserve to be happy. Thank you for being my friend. Goodbye, partner.

– Newt."

Seu coração se partiu em pedaços com a ideia de não tê-lo em sua vida novamente, mas ele estava vivo, e estava ali, deitado naquela cama improvisada, melhorando, e você aproveitaria cada segundo.