We didn't say anything as we hurried down the staircase and out of the Homestead. I trailed behind them, chewing on the inside of my cheek as a nervous habit.

In the Kitchen, Frypan offered us some food and I took a plate of two cheese sandwiches and a cucumber. I couldn't help but notice Frypan giving Thomas odd looks, but ignored it.

We found a spot against the West wall and the boys started eating,  but I just poked my food, my appetite practically nonexistent after what had happened.

"Has that ever happened before?" asked Thomas after a few minutes. Newt looked up from his sandwich.

"What happened with Alby? Nope. Then again, no one's ever tried to tell us what came back during the Changing. Must be why he went crazy for a bit," Newt said. I stiffened as he said the words. "Neil, why  aren't you eating?"

"But I did, didn't I?" I said slowly, mostly talking to myself. "I  told you what I remembered — and I didn't try to choke myself."

They stared at me. "I never thought of that," Newt said faintly, setting down his food. "Why are you different?"

I licked my lips nervously, trying to prepare myself for what I was  going to say. "But that's not all. I — uh — kinda went through the  same thing Alby did. Back at my Glade."

And I told them everything. Every last detail. I told them about how I  had felt my throat sort of close up the first time I tried to explain  what I had seen, I told them about Rachel, I told them about being  Banished. They were quiet, for the most part, but it looked like Thomas  was dying to ask questions.

When I finished, I looked down at my forgotten sandwich and waited for someone to speak.

But when Newt opened his mouth, his voice came out slightly strained. "You. . . jumped off the wall?"

I nodded, still not looking up.

"To. . . kill yourself?" Newt asked, choking on the words. I couldn't figure out why, but brushed it aside and nodded again.

The next thing I knew, Newt had scooted right next to me and put his arms around my body, resting his head on mine. I froze for a moment, then relaxed, leaning into him. His heart beat right next to my ear and at the same time, I became aware of mine speeding up slightly.

Thomas cleared his throat loudly and Newt sat back quickly. When I glanced at him, I noted a faint blush appearing on his cheeks and I almost smiled.

"So when do I start training?" Thomas asked and I turned to look at him, confused.

"Training for what?"

"For runn—"

"NOTHING!" said Newt loudly, but I had already heard him and sat up straight.

"You're a Runner?" I asked, a smile creeping onto my face. "That's — wow! That's amazing! Well done!" Then I turned to Newt. "Hey — how 'bout me? What did Minho say? You know, about me running?"

Newt wasn't looking at me and instead poked at his food. "Ask Minho," he mumbled.

I wrinkled my nose. "O-kay," I said slowly, standing up. "Where is he?"

"Kitchen, probably," Thomas jumped in.

Newt was still avoiding my eyes as he nodded. I frowned at him.

"Hey, is something wrong?" I asked, nudging him with my foot. "Did I do something?"

Newt shook his head quickly and I eyed him carefully. He obviously wasn't alright, but I knew he wouldn't tell me what it was even if I pushed him.

I did find Minho in the kitchen, gorging himself on cookies in the cupboard.

"Hey, moron," I greeted him cheerfully. "So —" I stopped myself, figuring that Newt probably wouldn't like the news that the two Greenies were becoming Runners so quickly spreading.

I smiled to myself at that thought. When had I started using their terms?

"What's up, Neil?" Minho asked through a mouthful of cookies.

"Uh, can I talk to you at the Deadheads?" I asked, taking one of his cookies and popping it into my mouth. It was perfect — crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside. It smelled and tasted like home, even if I didn't know what 'home' was.

Minho's eyebrows furrowed. "Sure, just lemme — " He stuffed another cookie in his mouth and beamed up at me.

"All good!" he said, except he sounded more like he was saying "Aw goo."

I smirked and lightly punched him on the arm. "C'mon, you shucking idiot. Get your butt over here."

"So?" asked Minho as we reached the trees.

"Can I run?" I asked.

Minho hesitated before shaking his head. "Sorry, Greenbean," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No can do."

"Why not?" I asked. "Do you need to see me run first?"

Minho blew out a frustrated sigh. "No, it's not that, I just. . . can't let you." I waited for him to go on, but when he didn't, I asked, "Why? I can take care of myself. Are you worried I'm gonna get hurt?"

Minho looked at me and mumbled, "I can't do this." I got the feeling that I probably wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Well, Greenie," he sighed, "it's not me who's worried if you're gonna get hurt or not. I told him that you'd be fine, but —"

"Woah woah woah," I said quickly. "Who?"

"Newt," Minho whispered.

"Newt?" I repeated. "Why would he want to protect me? I can protect myself just fine, thank you very much."

Minho gave me a sad look, like I was just a young little girl who didn't realize what was really going on with the world. "If you don't know, then I won't tell you," he said softly.

I huffed angrily. "Fine. Just fine. Don't tell me. But I want to be a Runner. I was one back in my Glade, so why shouldn't I be one here?"

Minho closed his eyes, like he was thinking hard. "Okay," he said slowly. "Okay. You start the day after tomorrow, with Thomas."

"Really?" I couldn't keep the grin off my face. "Awesome!" Minho gave me a small smile and I went back to where Thomas and Newt were starting to stand up.

"Hey," I said as Newt stood up.

"What's got you so happy?" he remarked. "Somethin' Minho said?"

"I'm a Runner now!" I said and Thomas smiled. But a shadow passed over Newt's face, though it was gone too fast for me to be sure it had been there.

"C'mon," he mumbled. "Thomas here is gonna go see the girl to see if we can trigger some memories in that shuck brain of his."

The boys walked ahead of me, but they weren't talking. We were heading toward the Homestead, where Teresa lay in a coma.

For the first time, I wondered if Teresa would be like Aris. Half-aware of the world around her, and more importantly, able to communicate telepathically with Thomas. I almost said it aloud, but bit my tongue. If it wasn't true, why should I tell them? It wouldn't make any difference, anyway.

Newt said something and Thomas laughed nervously, but Newt's expression stayed serious.

When we got there, only Clint was there, with a bowl of soup next to him. He had a cup of water in his hand and Teresa's mouth was parted slightly to let the water drip in. Her head was propped up on a few pillows.

When Clint saw us, he put down the glass and smiled.

"Hey guys," he greeted. "I expect you're here for her?"

Teresa looked perfectly fine, like she was only sleeping, minus the fact that she wouldn't wake up. Her cheeks and lips were rosy and her breaths were even.

I caught Thomas staring and swatted his arm lightly. He turned pink and looked away quickly.

"Hey," said Newt. "She doing alright?"

"Yep," Clint replied and turned back to the task of dripping water down Teresa's throat. "She talks a bit — stuff we don't really get — but she's surviving. We think she might wake up pretty soon."

"Have you been writing down every word she says?" Newt asked.

Clint pointed to his notepad, which was filled with random scribbles that could barely be identified as letters. "Most of the time it's just mumbling, but we write down what we can make out."

"Give me an example," Newt pressed.

"Well," Clint began, "she keeps muttering about things changing, like when we pulled her out of the Box. Some stuff about the Creators and something about ending. And, um. . ." Clint glanced uncertainly at Thomas and me.

"Whatever I hear, they can hear too," Newt said.

"Uh. . . Well, I can't be sure, but she keeps saying his name." Clint looked at Thomas again. "Over and over again.

Thomas stumbled and I quickly grabbed his shoulders, steadying. I suppose he knew that he knew Teresa somehow, and Rachel, and Aris, but it still came as a shock.

"Thanks, Clint." Newt's words were friendly enough, but they had a sort of firmness in them that made it clear the conversation was over. "Get is a report of all that, okay?"

"Sure." Clint nodded and quickly left the room.

"Grab a chair, both of you," Newt said, sitting on the edge of the bed and waving us over. I pulled one up and sat at the end of the bed, while Thomas sat next to her head. He leaned over and studied Teresa hard.

"Anything ring a bell?" Newt asked quietly.

Thomas didn't answer but kept staring at Teresa, taking in every inch of her face.

Then he sucked in a sudden breath and in an instant, Newt was by his side.

"What is it?" he demanded. "Do you remember anything?"

"No, but something. . . clicked." Thomas closed his eyes, looking frustrated. "It's buried back in my mind and it just won't come out!"

He opened his eyes again and shook his head at Newt. "I'm sorry. Nothing —"

Then Thomas jerked up, looking around frantically. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him down to his chair. He settled down uneasily, but I didn't release him, realizing what must've happened.

***

WORD COUNT: 1774

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Hi... I'm not dead... it's been like forever but Banished got to 1K reads!!! I'm so happy! I'm seeing that Banished has been added to a lot of reading lists (thanks for that if you did) but almost nobody is voting :( please vote if you liked it! I'd really appreciate it!!