Newt reached up, gasping as another burst of pain ripped through his leg. His vision blurred, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. He couldn't breathe. The weight of the world was crushing his chest. He felt ice hands reaching out to grab him, they gripped his leg and he screamed, jerking violently to get rid of them. Snippets of voices trickled through to him

"We've got to stop the bleeding!"

"Hurry the shuck up you shanks!

"Hold him down!.."

It all made his head hurt. The noise, light, the sounds of scuffling and hurried footsteps. Hands were wrapping around him again, but this time he couldn't fight them off. He felt someone begin to pull at his pants leg, rolling it up. Pain like molten lava shot through his leg again and suddenly it was like he was choking. He could feel his throat tighten as his heart began to bound quicker and quicker in his chest. His hands splayed out across the sheets, feeling the scratchy material as he grasped at them, clenching the blankets tightly in his hand. His fingers and arms spasmed and he bit down hard on his inside cheek to keep from screaming. He tasted metal. He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He kept reaching around the bed. He needed something, anything to hold. To fight the pain.

"hurry up!"

"come on we've got to do it"

"Make sure you hold his arms"

The voices were at it again, and suddenly he could feel movement in the room as they all began to surround him. He felt more hands grab his arm, then his leg, each movement and motion adding to the pain and dizziness. Suddenly he felt a pair of hands grip his leg, right around his knee. Right where it all hurt. He thrashed in the bed, straining and banging his head against the pillow, but he couldn't move. He felt the fear and pain rising in his chest as he realized he was trapped. Trapped. The one thing he feared more than anything was being trapped. His heart pounded and he opened his eyes, seeing blurry visions of the other gladers around him. He strained himself enough to look down at where the source of his pain was all coming from, and he almost wished he hadn't. There was Clint, his hands placed strategically around his knee. Or what was left of the shanked up knee anyways. He could see blood pouring out of the gaping wound and his leg was twisted in a sickening shank. He stared at it for mere moments before throwing his head back on his pillow with a soft anguished whimper.

"Clint. You've got to do it!"

That voice he recognized. It came from right over his head, and he looked up to find the source. Minho. It was Minho standing at the head of the bed holding one of his strained arms down. Minho however, didn't look down at Newt, but kept his eyes straight ahead at Clint.

"Clint come one!"

Suddenly everything clicked for Newt. The Gladers holding him down, the extra precautions, and Clint holding his knee. They were going to reset it.

"No!" the scream ripped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Some of the Gladers quieted and Minho looked down at him.

"No! Please, please don't do it when I'm awake! Please don't!" Newt could feel the streams of tears rolling down his face, but he didn't care. He knew the leg needed to be reset, but still he didn't care. He just wanted the paint to end. He wanted it all to go away.

Minho stared at him. His eyes filled with pain as he knew what he was going to have to do to his friend.

"I'm sorry Newt…" He whispered sadly. Then he turned and gave Clint a nod.

Newt only had a moment to close his eyes before he felt the sudden shift in his leg and heard a sharp snap!

Then everything exploded into fire.

Newt screamed, his back arching off the bed as he thrashed out, throwing several of the Gladers off of him and even punching one in the face. His scream tore at his throat and he began to sob uncontrollably. His breathing hitched and he reached out again across the bed, twisting and pulling at the sheets as if in an attempt to get away from the pain. It felt like someone was burning him while slowly stabbing him with thousands of knives. He screamed again as he felt the other Gladers return to hold him down, jostling his leg and sending more shoots of molten lead up it. His face was soaked from so many tears and his heart was beating too fast. He opened his mouth again to cry out, to say something, when he suddenly couldn't . His heart caught in his throat and his chest began to rise and fall and his breath came out in short bursts. He began to feel light headed as panic set in and he began to shake uncontrollably in his bed.

"oh God! Shuck!"

"What the shuck is happening?!"

"He's going into shock!"

Clint and Jeff grabbed him, trying to soothe him as the other Gladers ran around frantically, but the voices were beginning to fade away as darkness set around the edge of his vision. He reached out one more time, grabbing the sheets as his body continued to spasm. He reached out, knowing that it wouldn't help. He could't grab air, or relief, or any escape from the pain. But still he reached and grabbed the blankets once again, twisting them beneath him as he finally, peacefully, slipped into darkness.