Marjorie | Newt - The Maze Runner
pairing: Newt (TMR) x gn!reader
warnings: Pure angst, character death, canon events happening unfortunately, hallucinations, ptsd, panic attack.
thought of this while I listened to marjorie so here you all are
listen while you read if you like being sad.
They were late coming back. If they didn’t come back soon, someone was going to have to go looking after them.
Part of me wanted to go. I knew they would never allow it. A girl out looking for a crank? About as likely as it was for me to come up to the glade in the first place, but here we were.
“Minho, please. You’ll need another pair of hands, especially if one of them is hurt. I was a medic in the glade, I can help here, I-”
“This is fucking ridiculous, Newt and Thomas are out there who knows where, Newt half dead with the flare, and you’re not allowing me to help? I'm immune, I can help here.”
“No, you’re being ridiculous. I'm not letting you out just because of your.. thing.. Or whatever it is with Newt. You have to let go”
“Shut up! Just Shut up! I trusted you! Now do it!”
The sound of their voices jolted me up immediately. Fuck what Minho said. I ran as fast as I could muster, faster than Minho could get to me, and slammed the door open. In the distance, there they were.
“Kill me or I’ll kill you! Kill me! Do it!”
“Newt?” I said meekly. He turned to me and for a second, he was Newt. Really Newt. For a second, there he was. And then his face transformed into something else. Someone else. His veins popped black and he was gone. I couldn’t breathe.
“Newt! Newt, can you hear me? Look at me, Newt! Fuck!” He was still gone. Thomas was sobbing, I could see his whole body shake as I came closer to the two boys.
The sound of his pleas stopped me in my tracks. I knew. I knew I had to let it happen. Thomas had shown me the note. I knew Newt had to die. It was what he wanted. I had to let it happen.
And then screaming. Someone was screaming very, very loud. Someone was bursting my eardrums. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn't see anything. How did I just let him die? How did I- How could I-
“Hey! Hey! You’ll draw them in! Stop! Look at me. Stop screaming!”
I hadn’t felt myself open my mouth to scream. All of a sudden, I felt my throat turn to gravel and ran. I ran as fast as I could, and I fell over his body. I clutched him, hard. It was the last time I’d get to. I kissed him in all of my favorite spots. I kissed his knuckles. And I kissed his nose, his cheeks, his eyelashes. When I kissed his lips, there was a black sludge left on mine. It tasted like death. I held him tighter than I knew was possible. I softly lifted his eyelids to look into his eyes one more time. They were the one part of him that was still his. He was still in there somewhere, but he was too deep for us to reach him.
I never washed my clothes from that day. He’s still on them.
“Never be so kind, you forget to be clever”
“Sure, Minho, I’ll- yeah. No, I didn't end up going. I know I should've, Minho, but it’s not going anywhere. No. It's just too much for me today. Yes, I- okay. Sure. yeah. Yeah. Okay, Alright, see you soon. Okay, love you. Bye.”
“Never be so clever, you forget to be kind.”
I’m so fucking excited to get out of here.
The drive wasn’t like I planned. First, I took all of the wrong turns an idiot could expect to make. Then I got pulled over. Yeah. My first time getting pulled over. In the officer’s defense, I actually didn't have my seatbelt on. I tended to leave it off, I didn't really mind the risk. Finally, I was sick. Quite sick, actually. Thomas had given me strep.
And so I drove along miserably, coughing and hacking and listening to the shitty songs on the radio because I hadn't bothered to download anything.
In a particularly bad coughing fit, I had to pull over and grab tissue from my backseat.
“Fuck driving, fuck this, fuck this fucking road trip.” I coughed into the tissue and almost discarded it before I saw what was all over it. The black. I saw the black again. It was clear as day, I swear it was, it was right there. My eyes filled with tears and I was back there again. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn't see, and this time, I had nothing to clutch onto. I swung my car door open on the lonely highway and toppled out, coughing and clutching my chest. I tried to remember what the therapist had taught me. In 4, out 4. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything. I was dead for a minute there.
“And if i didn’t know better, I’d think you were
When I woke up, there on the highway, I could breathe again. I brushed the dirt off my pants and got back in the car. I stared at the tissue. It was clean. My head was pounding. I swerved so hard into a U turn that I thought I might be dead again. Not that it would truly matter. I should have gone to see him. Minho was right.
“If i didn’t know better, I’d think you were still around.”
It took me 2 hours to get back there. It took me no time at all to find him. I sat on the padded grass by the headstone and I stroked it lightly, like I sometimes had done to his hair when he was alive.
“I’m sorry I didn't bring you flowers or anything, you shank.
I miss you. A lot. I’m sorry I don’t visit anymore.”
I pulled my wallet out and untucked the little piece of 4-year-old paper
‘KILL ME. IF YOU WERE EVER MY FRIEND, KILL ME.’
“What died didn’t stay dead.”
The paper was tattered and almost ripping where it had been folded and unfolded over and over again. It was the last thing he’d written. The last of his loopy, pretty (but remarkably poor) handwriting.
“What died didn’t stay dead”
“It feels like you’re still here, Newt. You should be. It should have been me. … Sometimes I think about us like that prehistoric couple that got fossilized holding each other, and I wonder what would happen if I could crawl into that grave with you. It’s all I want, really. I miss having you here. No one knows how to listen like you did. I don’t want to try and replace you, I just want you. I miss the way you smelled. No one else smells like that. I would give anything to smell you one more time. Or to hold your hand. Mine were always clammy, and yours were always cold. You didn’t mind, and I didn’t either. I still wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re alive, you’re alive in my head.”
I went over to the maple tree by the entrance and plucked off some leaves. They weren’t flowers, but they also weren’t nothing. I laid them on his headstone, and then I laid myself on top of them. I breathed better than I ever had then. But I still had somewhere to be.
“I love you, Newt. Goodbye. For real this time.”
But I still feel you all around.
But you’re still around.”