Thomas: He gets it. He understands the most out of everyone why you'd be drawn to that job, to do your best to find a way out for everyone. That being said, he is super supportive; However, it doesn't mean he isn't worried. Thomas would opt to be paired with you when running the Maze anytime it was possible, or if he isn't running, he'd be up early to see you off and would return to wait for you at the door at the end of the day. He asks that you tell him your route each day, so you can bet he'd be beyond prepared to run in after you at the first sign of trouble or if there was a delay.
Newt: He wishes you wouldn't. He'd rather you stay in the Glade with him doing a job every day that wasn't so risky. He personally knows the dangers of the Maze, and tries to talk you out of it. If you are set on being a runner, he will respect it.. but will constantly worry about you. From the moment you run out of those doors, he tries to busy himself, but the nagging thought of wondering if you were hurt or if something went wrong would bug him all day until your return. He'd be waiting at the doors to give you a tight embrace at the end of the day and take you to get dinner, only for it all to begin again the next day. Since he can't protect you while you're in the Maze, he will be a bit overattentive and overprotective in the Glade.
Minho: He is simultaneously proud and concerned when you become a runner. You are intelligent, skilled, and dependable, so of course you are suited for the job... but he is well-versed in the dangers and risk of the Maze. He would insist that you run with him every time early on. He wants to protect you and share his own wisdom so that you are prepared. Minho becomes a bit more relaxed as time goes by, and eventually he won't mind if you are paired with someone else every now and then- though he'd still rather be paired with you whenever possible. The two of you are introduced to Greenies as the power couple in the Glade.
Gally: When you break the news to him, he's stunned. He blinks a million times a second, and he opens his mouth only to have no words come out. He finally gets a grip and starts by asking why you want to be a runner. Is it because you have something to prove? Then, he puts his hands on your shoulders to look you in the eye and ask if you are aware of the risk. Of course you are. When he sees you're derermined, he won't keep harping you about it. He does still hope you change your mind. There even comes a point he considers joining you so that he can go with you... but eventually, he begins to get used to the idea. He definitely waits for you at the end of your run. As big of a rules guy as he is, if it comes to your safety, he'd throw himself in through those doors to protect you.
general tmr x fem!reader. rather than coming up to the glade in the box, greeted by strangers in daylight, you wake up inside the maze, in the dead of night. without any of your memories, you must escape into the glade and navigate who you are, where you came from, and what you intend to do with your new life.
𖣂 chapter 5: golden 𖣂
Nothing about this is coincidental.
A year passed, more of a blur than you liked. You dreamed vividly and often, visions screaming at you to be recognized before fading away into another pocket of your subconscious.
It looked like another life. There were… girls there? And familiar surroundings, you thought. They looked at you like you were one of them. You ran with them, ate with them. You healed their wounds and let yourself be healed.
Sometimes you saw the edges and walls of the maze, burning deep hues of many colors and closing in on you. You recognized the place, of course, but sometimes it felt… different. You knew the maze was always shifting, always changing, but this one in your dreams made something click in your gut, like it wasn’t the same set of shifting walls at all.
It came only in bits and pieces, but you knew this must be something important. It dared you to recognize it.
Then you’d wake up, to your real life, back sore from being in a hammock, and the gray of the morning would make your dreams ebb away. Your eyes adjusted to the sight of boys running through the fields of the Glade, demanding you to get up and do your job along with them.
You sighed and squeezed your eyes shut again, trying to chase the visions that were leaving you unapologetically.
“Good morning.” A low voice resounded above you. You opened your eyes.
With his hands folded behind his back, Minho leaned forward and blew sharply into your face, making your hair tickle your forehead.
You punched him in the shoulder lightly. “That’s not something I want to smell this early.”
“Guess you should get up then.”
You swung your legs over the hammock and stepped out, stretching your arms above your head.
“How was your night?” He asked, falling into step with you as you headed away from the tented area and toward the gardens, blinking yourself awake and rolling your shoulders back and forth.
“Cryptic. And you?”
You had told only a couple people about the dreams, and not in great detail. Only that you were receiving whispers of memories from before the Maze, like most people in the Glade. Nothing enough to be distinct. Just tugging at the brain, leaking a previous life. Minho was one of those few Gladers you talked to about it. He had stood up for you for a moment a year ago, and now the two of you had grown closer.
“Slept like a baby.” He replied.
You ran your hands through your hair and crouched at the foot of a plot you had been working on for the past few months. It was making steady progress so far. It felt good to have a hand in growing life and food here, and it etched away just slightly at the monstrous imposter syndrome you often felt as a Glader.
Not everyone was as amicable with you as Minho was. Some boys gave you distrusting looks, others didn’t find it necessary to speak to you. Many went out of their way to step in and complete a job you were working hard on- sowing crops, building tents- as if they were saving themselves the inconvenience of fixing whatever you were bound to mess up.
It was an impossible double standard that you had complained about in the first few months.
“You complain that I don’t do my part enough, and then take over before I can. Either trust me enough to grow your food- OUR food- or leave it alone, and know that I could’ve helped if you grew a pair.”
It was Adam you had been speaking to. Alby stood next to him, eyes darting between the two of you.
Adam threw his hands up in frustration.
“This is what I mean! She’s just being a bitch for no reason.”
Alby held his hand out.
“Stop. The both of you. If you’re going to fight, I’ll gladly throw the both of you in the pit until you’ve calmed down. And then the others will have to pick up your jobs. Do you want that?”
“Of course not.” You said through your teeth. You could feel your chest buzzing with anger. But if you blew up, everyone would look to you to blame, not Adam.
Adam sighed. “I don’t want to have to rebuild a stupid bench just because you want everyone to put in an equal share.”
“He’s being immature.” You said, only looking at Alby now.
“No one is saying you’d have to rebuild anything. We are all Gladers, and we need to trust one another. If she’s willing to put in the work, and is doing her part, then we don’t have a problem.” Alby said firmly.
He had made you both shake hands and continue working on opposite ends of the Glade. Adam scoffed something about how the whole situation was bullshit and later, during dinner, very pointedly avoided sitting on the bench you had finished building.
You, Newt, Minho, and Fry had sat on the bench together. It was sturdy and gave you no problems.
“I don’t know how you do that.” You continued, not taking your eyes off of the budding plants in front of you.
“What?” He asked, crouching alongside you and adjusting his vest before staring at the garden just as intently as you.
“Sleep well, I mean. Those hammocks are seriously killing my back.”
“I run it off.”
“Sure.”
You stood, brushing off your pants and began to walk off until Minho placed a sturdy hand on your shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“To get the watering can…?”
He shook his head. “The Box should be coming up any minute now.”
You smacked your forehead. In the haze of your dreams last night, your mind had woken up elsewhere.
“God, you’re right. How could-”
And then, it started. A ratchet of clanking and the turning of gears. Heads turned, and a small crowd was already waiting at the edge of the Box. That included Gally, Newt, Ben, Peter, and Alby.
Minho was already running toward the scene. He called after you.
“You can water your plants later!”
You scoffed and ran after him without another word.
You were usually the first member of the crowd for these kinds of things. News from Runners, arrivals from the Box, anything. But you had forgotten today. You shook off the guilty feeling that you were getting too comfortable.
Pushing through the group of boys, you joined the front lines of whoever was peering down at the box. Gally was already bracing himself to jump down inside, until a terrified voice resounded from below.
“Wh-where am I? Help! Help!!”
A shiver ran down your spine. There were murmurs among the crowd. Gally’s eyebrows furrowed. He paused in a half braced stance.
“Anybody!”
That voice… It's so young.
Out of the rest of the crowd, you were the Glader to lean down and offer your hand.
“Hi.” You said.
He blinked back at you, reaching out to take your hand.
You put a firm group on his elbows, helping him climb up onto a crate and then out of the Box and onto the grass. You heard a few boys mutter something about ‘maternal instincts’ and chuckle.
“Try not to panic. It’s okay.”
He clutched onto your arms like you were someone he’d known for years, someone to trust.
“Where am I?” He asked. Then, he jerked his head back as if something had just hit him. “Who am I?? Holy shit, I don’t know who I am!”
A few chuckles came from the crowd. You placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay. This happens to everyone on the first day.”
The boy paused. He scanned the crowd, taking in his new surroundings. “Everyone?” He asked, addressing you directly. “What is this?”
You opened your mouth to give a canned response that most people gave to all the Greenies, but paused. Briefly, you met eyes with Gally. His gaze was hard, but he was looking at you inquisitively. In the past year, this was the first Greenie you had spoken to as an introduction. As the person to help first. For the most part, it was you knowing your place. You knew you stuck out. You knew Alby was in charge of things like this. It felt awkward to you to explain the Glade to new Greenies, as if you had arrived in the same way. As if you too had climbed out of the Box, into helping hands. As if you hadn’t run for your life out of the Maze into sharp daylight and suspicious faces- which had become your first firm memory. As if you fit in at all. But this boy who you had just helped climb out of the Box was proof of more difference. Someone else who stuck out, like you, if not to a different degree. You changed your mind, and the next words came out soft.
“Somewhere safe.”
It was a lie, if you looked further into it. But enough to make the kid stop shaking.
𖣠
He was a nice kid. You could feel it radiating from him underneath all the panic. After a few hours of inconsolable emotion in the pit, the others dragged him out and he was immediately met with teasing and a kind of performative sympathy from the other boys.
He was looking for friends more than anything else, you noted. Immediate community. He was sharp and curious. He had a light sense of humor that refreshed the way you tried to look at the Glade with an eagle eye, uncovering its layers, understanding it as something trying to outsmart you.
He went by Chuck.
“I can’t get my head around it.” You said while hungrily eating your food, the bowl of jerky and bread slices balancing on your knees as you sat on a bench in the shade. You had helped build it. You had done a lot of odd end jobs for the place you now felt forced to call home. It gave you focus. Newt was sat next to you, eating his meal just the same.
“Around what?” He asked, not looking up from his meal.
You finished chewing a bite of jerky, then tilted your head, gaze focused elsewhere. “He’s young. Not close to anyone else’s age around here.”
Newt hummed. “It’s strange, for sure. But not totally unreasonable. He came up in the Box, at the right time, right place. He’s a kid, yeah, but otherwise everything has been routine.”
You stared down at the bowl. “I know that.”
Newt looked up at you. “What’s bothering you?”
You stood up suddenly, setting your bowl down and standing in front of him with your hands on your hips.
“It’s just… I’m looking for clues. For more… discrepancies. Chuck is a little different too… like me. I mean, the circumstances are very different, sure, but… it just makes me wonder where we came from more and more. And why we’re stuck here.”
Newt set his bowl down slowly, and met your eyes. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I know you're looking. And I know you're trying hard… in the maze, too, looking. Just try not to ambush him.”
You scrunched your eyebrows and crossed your arms. “Ambush?”
Newt chuckled, grabbing both of your empty bowls and standing. “Yeah, you know. The way you have with all the other Greenies.”
He clapped a hand on your shoulder as he passed you, on the way to the kitchen.
You stood there dumbfounded. Sure, you had caught every Greenie early after their arrival and asked them a few things. If there was anything strange they remembered, any detail that felt off to them. Anything in the Glade that stuck out to them. Anything that they felt separated them from the rest of the group. Were you really that persistent?
Ben shook you out of your thoughts. He was jogging toward you, calling out your name.
“Hey. The rest of us are ready.”
The vest felt tight around your shoulders and chest. You nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Four weeks ago, you had become a Runner.
Or, more accurately, four weeks ago Minho had stumbled into your small hut (your one place of privacy from the other boys) and discovered everything you had scribbled down when you woke up with instructions on your lips from hazy dreams.
200-300 ft high
8 sections (but I remember 14?)
Walls move this direction
Rotate
Always run along border
Different creature than the dream ones
“What are these?” He had asked, sifting through loose papers.
“Um… notes. Memories. Some things I keep track of for how the Maze shifts around.”
“How do you know? You’ve never been inside.”
You raised an eyebrow. Minho exhaled. “Save for that one time.”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, I just… I’m confident I could find my way around if you sent me in there. If you showed me a map. I could do it.”
You hadn’t expected to do it right then and there, but you were making a case for yourself.
Send me into the Maze. Make me a Runner.
Alby’s words echoed in your mind.
None of this is a coincidence.
Minho squinted at you, as if trying to spot something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. He was sizing you up.
“What would be different then if you joined the mapmakers? If you outlined the place instead?”
“I have to go back in there.” You said quickly. “You have to understand. I didn’t come here the way the rest of you did. There’s some sort of secret that I know I’m stumbling into, something that could help us, get us out of here, but… I won’t know more unless I go into the Maze. As a Runner.”
There was a pause. Minho stared at you for a long moment. You could see the gears turning in his head “Okay.” He said.
“Okay?” You replied. “Okay like, you’ll call a Gathering okay?”
“No.” He said. “I don’t know what the other Keepers are going to say about this if I bring it up firsthand. I’ll talk to Alby and Newt first. Then we’ll do a gathering. But…”
You put your hands on your hips. Would this all really work?
“But even if the other Keepers disagree… I think Alby and Newt trust you. Hell, I trust you. I don’t know how much. But enough to know that you need to be out there too.”
And that was how it happened. After some fighting and constantly having to make a case for yourself, you were finally able to put on that vest and run into the Maze.
Currently, you and Minho were supposed to just touch around the border of Section 7 that intersected with the other parts of the maze and begin to map out that area- while finding a better shortcut back.
Ben walked with you to the entrance. You matched each other's stride, though he seemed to walk a comfortable distance away from you.
The others were waiting at the entrance. Minho didn’t hesitate a second longer to glance at you both, nod toward the Maze, and head inside with a jog.
𖣠
More cold stone and tangling ivy. As soon as you and the other Runners started to feel like you had a handle on the place, it would shift and throw you off and surprise you again, taunting the impossibility of escape.
There was no walking around here. Both you and Minho were at a steady run, passing by the giant ‘7’ that was marked on one of the walls.
He led you both to the right, before stopping briefly to peek around a corner.
“Dead end?” You asked.
He shook his head. “No, I-”
There was a chittering noise behind you. Immediately, it felt like your blood froze. You never got used to that sound. The way it made the hairs on your arms raise. You grabbed Minho’s elbow.
“This way.”
Heading in the opposite direction of the corner he just looked around, you both crossed into section 7 away from the Griever’s noise.
“The rest of the group shouldn’t be too far off from us. We can regroup from here.” He said.
“Shouldn’t we try to explore that intersection more?” Your brows furrowed. “The space has shifted to be more open than before, and I think we can cut through it to get back into the Glade faster-”
Minho shook his head. “I agree, but after we find the group. There’s Grievers nearby and we can’t search for a shortcut if we’re dead.”
“I know it’s not worth it to be hasty, but I don’t think this section will be open for much longer.” You pressed. “Once we find the group it might shift itself closed again, we can pay attention to the timing if we stick around the border for a bit longer.”
Minho shook his head firmer. “No. It’s not safe.”
You were growing frustrated. “It’s never safe.”
“I know, but you need to know what battles to pick. What risks are worth taking. And right now, we need to go.”
Your argument was further cut off by another chittering noise. It was closer this time. On the other side of the wall, just around the corner, mechanical limbs scraped against the stone floor with an ugly sound.
Both you and Minho met eyes. He brought a finger to his lips, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand. You stayed quiet for a moment. Maybe, if the Griever didn’t know the both of you were there, it would pass you. Just maybe.
It clunked its way into view, coming into the gap where both of you were squatting at the end of the section. If it kept its eyes forward, didn’t sense you to its left, you would be safe.
The Griever paused. Its head snapped toward you.
Or not.
Immediately, you were up and running. Side by side, you and Minho navigated in and out and through different sections of the Maze, skidding around the corner as you heard the Griever take off in a run toward you.
Your stomach crawled as you ran. Something in you felt guilty. Just to your left was more of the space along the border of section 7 that you had been desperate to explore. If you could observe the walls and their position from there, you could expand the map that the Runners had been using for the past couple months. Minho was leading you in the opposite direction. But you had a feeling.
You diverged, booking it and turning toward your left into section 7. Minho yelled after you, almost pausing, until you heard the Griever roar. Alarmed, he tore himself away and kept running toward the right, away from you.
Now separated from each other, you noticed a small, square shaped gap in the wall to your left creating an entrance into the section that was separated by the rest of the wall.
Why would it cut through like that?
You quickly got onto your knees and pushed yourself through the gap, which was just small enough for a person to fit through. Arms reaching out, you wiggled your hips through and landed onto the ground.
Not far behind was the Griever, which slammed its body into the small entrance in attack.
You yelped, falling onto your butt and watching as it frustratingly stuck an arm through the entrance, clawing for you.
Breathing heavily, you noticed that you were safe for now. There was no way it could follow you through that gap.
Until it found another way around, that was. You shot up to your feet and turned away from the Griever, starting to chart new territory.
It was a wide open space, unusual and different from other parts of the maze. As you walked, you noted divots in the floor that looked suspiciously like beams or sharp walls were meant to shoot up from them, stopping whoever got this far by isolating them or blocking them from leaving the section.
You crouched down, running your hand along a divot.
What triggers this?
You suddenly got the feeling that you should step far away from the divot and continued to navigate the new area, keeping a better distance from any other divots marking the floor.
It’s like a minefield.
You looked up, noticing the way the walls were… rounding out?
Instead of cutting in perpendicular, at an angle like most other sections of the maze, these towering walls seemed to be sneakily curving around, almost like it was creating a vast arena.
You knew what this might mean. If the area was lethal, seemingly more dangerous than other sections… it had to mean you were closer to finding the truth. Closer to an exit. Why else would the maze try harder to eviscerate you?
The divots, the rounding corners… What happens here when the place activates? When we get close enough to the exit that it wants to stop us?
You looked around suddenly, panicked. Sure enough, far in the distance slabbed onto the walls were huge circle shapes protruding. They looked like they would hinge open, like a door.
For Grievers to come out.
Now you knew you had pushed enough. It was time to go before you got caught by one of those things again.
You ran back the way you came, checking out the small gap you had come in from. It was quiet.
I can’t be sure that it’s safe… But there’s no other way back.
You crawled through the gap and crouched, silently. No chittering noises.
Carefully, you stalked along the edge of the wall, listening if the same Griever was still waiting for you. No sound. You peeked around the corner. Nothing.
You knew better than to relax. So, you took off from around the corner at full speed, determined to find Minho again.
Something followed you a second after. Huge and clicking and determined to get you this time.
Damn it!
You didn’t look back. You knew where you were going now.
Turn right, left, around… section 6 coming up…
As soon as you rounded the next corner, you promptly slammed into someone’s chest. It shocked you, and you looked to see who you had effectively scared.
Minho!
“Where did you-”
“No time!” You shouted, grabbing his arm. He understood.
The both of you ran until you could see the light reaching out toward you from the exit into the Glade.
“Did we lose it?” He asked you, breathless.
“I hope so.” You said back.
Ben and Hank had already returned for the evening, and were headed toward the Map Room.
The adrenaline was still coursing through you, and you placed your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Minho crossed his arms.
“You can’t run off like that.” He said firmly, staring down at you. It wasn't the first time this had happened.
“Sorry.” You said, standing to face him. “I just… I had a feeling.”
Minho rubbed his face. “‘Feelings’ might get you killed if you don’t know where you’re going.”
“I know. But the risk was worth it. I found something.”
He turned toward you, closer. “Something new?”
You nodded, breathless. “Yes. I think it’s important. I need to…” You paused, looking at your hands, observing two of your fingers that had rust colored stains on them from touching the divots.
Minho nodded to the direction that Ben and Hank had gone in. “Map Room. Let’s go.”
You both headed over there in a rush, taking a quick stride.
“Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for being stupid.” Minho continued.
“I know.” You responded. “Just… let me explain all this first. Then you can decide how mad you need to be.”
Behind you, the maze rumbled and grinded to a close.
hey roe, idk if you’ve done maze runner stuff before, but how abt newt x male former glader, established relationship, and they find him dead at the end of the death cure (movie or book)? I might want my heart ripped out
am I ready for this? no. and I never will be
decided to go with movie, as it’s easier, and there are gifs
gets bloody. major character death. spoilers? ig?
basically this was my personal study in human grief. enjoy having your heart ripped out! (I hope)
The streets were littered with chaos, and it was terrifying.
You’d felt terror before. You were familiar with the emotion, and had been for as long as you could remember. The glade, grievers, the scorch, cranks, you’d faced them all.
But this was worse. Sitting behind a concrete wall barely two feet high, listening to Newt struggle to breathe. It was terrifying beyond measure, to know that he was dying, and to know that the only thing that could stop it was just too far away to get to in time. But you tried not to lose hope- you just focused, focused on the mission.
Thomas has promised you that the lot of you were getting Newt out alive. You’d promised each other- you’d get him out. Newt was getting out of here alive, and there was no other way. Gally and Minho lead the way while you and Thomas supported his either side, holding him up when his own feet couldn’t. You made your way through a few blocks before Newt collapsed, and fell against a wall. You and Thomas followed him down, and there was a pause while all five of you caught your breath.
But a Berg flew overhead, and you felt there might be hope.
“That’s them,” Thomas said, “that’s them. We gotta go.” He scooped Newt’s arm over his shoulder, and you did the same, heaving him up from the floor. You wouldn’t listen when your legs told you they were tired.
“Go without me,” Newt insisted, breaking off to cough and spewing more black from his lips. You first looked at Thomas, then at Minho, not believing that they would ever leave Newt. You knew that they’d leave him just as soon as you would.
“Minho, Y/N,” Thomas said, his tone somber but serious. “You gotta run ahead, grab the serum, and get back to us as soon as you can.” Your gaze flicked to Minho, for his reaction, before you turned to Thomas.
“Y/N, go,” Thomas said, and you knew it only made sense. You and Minho were the fastest runners in the glade, back in the day. If anyone could do it, it would be one of the two of you.
“He’s right,” Gally added, “I can cover.” Gally stood, and Minho grabbed Newt’s hand, and your heart broke some more while you listened to Newt struggling to get his words out.
“Thank you,” he panted, “thank you, Minho.”
“Hey,” Minho said, leaning closer. “You just hang on. You hear me?” Minho let go, and moved aside.
You kneeled in front of Newt, and cupped his jaw. His hands came up and wrapped around your wrists, his eyes searching yours.
There were a million things to say. A million memories you wished you had the time to talk about with him, in this moment. You wanted to tell him that you needed him to stay alive. You wanted to tell him that you’d be okay if he didn’t. You wished you could give him peace, or hope, or anything.
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie, not then. So you for had to make a choice.
In spite of the black he’d been forcing from his lungs, you kissed him. You didn’t know if you’d get another chance.
“Be alive when we get back,” you ordered him, and the three of you went running.
Like never before was your resolve strengthened, and you felt almost superhuman. Your stomach and throat were tight, as you held your grief at bay, because to you it felt like you’d already said goodbye. But still you hurdled over crumbled concrete barriers and dodged between crowds of people who were running the opposite direction.
Teresa’s voice cut through the chaos and your vision finally began to cloud with tears, because it felt like salt in a very, very large wound. You chose not to believe it, just for the moment, just to keep your feet moving, because to know that Thomas could’ve have saved him all this time was too much for you to bear.
You came up on the Berg, and another burst of speed brought you onto the platform.
“Brenda!!” You shouted, hand already outstretched. “Give me a serum!” By the time you reached her she had grabbed one, but instead of giving it to you, she went charging off past you. You followed, and so did Fry, and Gally. You and Minho broke through their line and went out ahead, he and you and Brenda being the fastest, and charging through the streets, through the fire and the explosives hurtling from all directions. Brenda got away from you, and you hoped that she’d make it in time.
Your feet brought you to the scene just behind her, and when she froze, you had to stop yourself from assuming the worst.
But it didn’t matter.
Newt was on the ground, a knife buried in his chest, and you, in that moment, lost everything.
Your mind. Your hope. Your strength.
Because you’d lost him.
“No!” You shouted, and on your way to him your feet finally gave out. You collapsed onto your shoulder inches from him, and crawled the final foot, pulling up your torso to let your hands frame his face. Still he looked up at the sky, but you knew there was no breath left in his lungs.
Your tears fell down your face and the taste of salt invaded your mouth, but no sound left your lips. Your grief was too much for words, for even sounds, other than the raspy inhale and exhale that was clouded by a closed throat. Your chest shook, and a tightness held your whole body as you leaned forward, resting your forehead to his.
Still, he felt warm.
You couldn’t breathe, the way your chest was tight, your stomach was tight. It was paralyzing, how deeply you were wracked with grief. You didn’t notice as Thomas walked away, but as Minho and Fry approached you leaned back, your hips falling from where they had been resting on the heels of your shoes, and you stumbled to the side, one hand catching you on the ground while you finally forced out a sound.
A brief, soft wail, to the stars above, blotted out as they were by smoke and flames.
You leaned forward again, shaking hands cupping Newt’s face again, your fingers sliding into his hair, which you had once known to be so soft. Your thumbs slid back and forth over his cheekbones, tracking through the dirt and sweat.
You leaned forward to kiss him, one final time.
“Y/N, we gotta go,” Minho said from behind you, and still you held onto Newt’s face. You felt an arm slide up and under your shoulder, and it began to pull you up.
“Wait!!” You shouted, your vision blurred but clear enough to get you back to Newt when you flailed out of their grip, legs kicking until you once again collapsed at his side. Your hands returned to his face, and you brushed his hair from his forehead, his eyes still staring up to the sky.
“Y/N-“
“Wait!” You shouted, stomach again so tight that every word came out forced, even as you threw one hand back to stop them from coming closer.
You collected yourself onto your knees, beside Newt’s chest, and looked down at the wound that had killed him.
It was Newt’s own knife. You recognized the handle, even though the blade was buried in his muscle and surrounded in still a spreading puddle of blood, soaking through his clothes. You watched your hand shake as you placed it on his chest, right into the center of the wound, your thumb and forefinger bordering the blade.
Your other hand, you took to the handle of the blade, and you pulled.
“It was Newt’s knife”, you heard yourself repeat, as you pulled the blade from his chest. You were lucky you couldn’t hear the sound, but you felt it, the way the flesh stuck and tried to hold. When you pulled it out, the reddish black liquid dripped from the metal, but you wiped it in the fold of your elbow before putting it into a sheath at your hip. Just like Newt had had.
You stood up, and stumbled backwards, still your eyes on Newt even as Minho grabbed your shoulder and yanked you away. Your eyes stayed on Minho’s feet while you ran through those same three damn blocks for the third time, still tears cutting down your face, and your stomach still fighting to curl in on itself.
The moment you stepped foot into the Berg, you collapsed, practically skidding against the front wall. You looked at your hands, as they’d been smeared in Newt’s blood, and turned the palms away from you, resting the clean knuckles against your lips. But when they pulled away, you discovered them black, and you remembered the blood you must’ve collected from his lips.
You wanted to get up and help Thomas, but Vince clapped your shoulder and told you to stay down. So you stayed, watching while they struggled to collect Thomas, watching while they tended his wounds.
You were numb, now, staring at the drying and cracking blood on your hands. Frypan kneeled in front of you halfway through the flight, and held toward you a wetted white cloth.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, but you brought your hands closer to your chest. It was a stupid reaction, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want to lose the only things you had of him.
“He deserved to be buried,” you whimpered, saliva stringing between your lips. You were a mess. “And not under that city.”
“Y/N,” Fry said softly, taking your hand slowly in his. “You’ve got his knife. You don’t need to keep his blood.” After a moment’s pause, you nodded and closed your eyes, letting him wipe your hands up. You let him coax your chin forward while he wiped up your face, and you spent the rest of the journey looking at your clean hands, as they held a clean knife.
You weren’t nearly the same for weeks. You kept to yourself and grieved. You didn’t do much, other than sit around a fire with Minho and Fry, and occasionally Gally. The day Thomas got up, you hugged him tightly, knowing that he would need it just as much as you did. Minho, the next morning, walked with you out to the stone, where he carved Alby’s name, then Chuck’s. He put the chisel into your hands.
“He loved you,” he said, and gave you the hammer too. “You’re always gonna have that.” You swallowed down a lump in your throat, and lifted your arms.
Request: can you do a new Newt imagine where y/n(can her name be Lydia?) had a talent at drawing and most of her drawings where Newt and one day Newt went to wake her up and saw that she wasn’t there and before he left he turned around and saw some papers in her bed and saw what she had and he saw himself in the papers and in this moment the reader came in and said “What the hell are you doing with those?!” and newt didn’t answered and then she said “yeah I know they are awf-” and newt cut her by a kiss ~ Anonymus
thx for your request! hope you like it :*
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hummed to myself while i sorted the medicines on the shelves in the med-jack hut to create some free space for the ones which would arrive later this afternoon with the box.
At least i hoped so, because lately a lot of the boys had injuries, some of them worse than others, and everyone needed medicine and we wouldn’t last a few days more without new bandages and painkillers.
The ear-splitting sound of the box almost made me jump. Months in the glade, and i still wasn’t used to this.
I walked over to the crowd and squeezed myself through the boys. Secretly, i hoped for new paper for me, last month, the creators didn’t sent anything for me to draw, and i needed it.
Gally and Newt opened the box, and immediately, nearly everyone let out disappointed sighs and got back to whatever they had been doing last.
I guess most of them had hoped for a girl and the person sitting in the corner of the box, pressed up against some cages was clearly a boy.
To be honest, this wasn’t a surprise to me and after a few months with only boys arriving, i had stopped hoping for some girl company for me.
Some of the builders had begun to unload the different cages and barrels, and one gave me the box with new supplies for the med-jacks.
Somewhat disappointed, i turned around and trotted back to einordnen the new supplies, when Albys voice stopped me.
“Lydia! Come back, here’s something for you!”
Immediately, i put down the cage i was holding and rushed back. Alby gave me a small, simple box with my name on it.
“What is this? You get this every month.”
I shrugged and saw Newt taking a quick curious look at it, while he lead away the greenie, who appeared pretty distraught by the whole situation.
“You know… stuff. Girl stuff.”
I smiled awkwardly and walked back to the other cage, which i picked up and when i was back in the hut, i put it aside to open the box with my name.
It contained a stack of paper, five new pencils and two erasers. I almost danced of happiness and had to force myself not to scream, when suddenly the door opened and Clint entered to room.
“What are you doing?”, he asked amused, “and what is in this box?”
I immediately shut the box and shot back: “Nothing for you” He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender.
“Ok, calm down. I just searching for Jeff. Do you know where he is?”
“Nope i don’t know where he is. But shouldn’t you as his boyfriend know things like this?”
Clint turned bright red but smirked. “If i’d were you, i’d shut up. At least i have a boyfriend”
I sticked my tongue out at him, but he had already vanished.
Smiling to myself, i quickly began to sort in the new medicines. Clint and Jeff were too cute. I was the only one who knew they were a couple, and only because i one they catched them kissing once. They had pleaded to me on their knees not to tell anyone, and of course i didn’t, but since this day, we were really good friends. I also told them about my crush on my best friend Newt, and so we constantly teased each other.
When i finished, i took the box with the papers and hurried into my room. I couldn’t wait to draw again.
On my way i had been stopped by Newt who told me dinner were ready so had to wait before i could be again alone in my room.
But now i was finished and closed the door behind me and plopped down on my bed, cuddled myself into the blanket and layed a sheet of paper on my thighs and started to draw.
I was a good drawer, you could even say i had great talent. I came up in the box with a few sheets of paper and a pencil, and despite the fact that i had lost all my memories, i somehow felt familiar with the feeling of the pencil laying in my hand. Since this day, i had drew literally everything, the homestead, the deadheads or even the whole glade.
The creators sent up a package with new paper every month, but nobody knew about my hidden talent. I only drew in the evenings in my room, remembering what i had seen this day.
Most of the time it was Newt. He was definitely the motive i drew the most. His face, his smile and laugh, while he worked, ate or slept, i had drew almost everything.
It wasn’t like i was acreepy stalker or something, but i usually just drew what popped into my mind - and this was mostly Newt.
I watched the drawing getting more detailed, and with every line i made, i felt myself relaxing. For me, nothing was better than drawing to calm down after a long day of hard work, and i absolutely loved the feeling.
When the drawing was finished a few hours later, i almost instantly fell asleep, sourrounded by paper and pencils.
The next morning i woke up earlier than usual, and decided to use this time for a shower before the boys would wake up. This opportunities were rare, usually i had either Newt, Clint or Jeff to wait in front of the bathrooms to make sure i could shower alone.
Newt P.o.V
As usual, the first thing i did in the morning was waking up Lydia, and when i stood in front of her room, i knocked three times.
Since i once walked in on her changing, i was careful not to forget to knock everytime.
Not that i didn’t liked seeing her in her underwear, but she was my best friend and i shouldn’t think of her that way.
When nobody answered, i carefully opened the door and entered the room. She didn’t lay in her bed, but before i left again, my gaze fell on some papers shattered acroos her mattress.
I didn’t wanted to root through her private things, but i was curious and snaked back into the room, after i quickly looked around if maybe Lydia would come back.
I picked up the paper and turned it around. It was a drawing. A drawing of me. Did Lydia drew that? It looked shockingly realistic, almost as if it was a photo.
I took in every detail of the picture, when suddenly Lydia next to me out of nowhere and when she realized what i was looking at, she almost yelled: “What the hell are you doing with those?"
I didn’t reacted, too memerized by myself smiling up to me on the paper. All of the rage had vanished from her voice and had been replaced with insecurity when she spoke again.
“Yeah, i know they are awf-”
With sudden anger about what she wanted to say, i dropped the drawing, cupped her face with my hands and pressed my lips on hers.
I could feel her whole body tense up and when i was about to pull away because she clearly didn’t wanted me to kiss her, she hesitantly started to kiss back.
I let go of her cheeks and slid my hands to her waist, where i pressed she closer to me. She seemed to grow more confident and wrapped her arms around my neck to play with my hair.
Before things could get heated, i pulled away and looked at her. She was blushing furiously, her lips red and swollen and her damp hair was an adorable mess. Beautiful.
“You weren’t supposed to see these. I know they are terri-”
Again i cut her with a quick peck on the lips. She stared at me, speechless.
“But-”
“No buts. These drawings are bloody incredible. And i love the way you drew me. I love you.”
She smiled. “I love you too. But i won’t show you the other drawings.”
“We’ll talk about this later. Now come here, where did we stop?”
general tmr x fem!reader. rather than coming up to the glade in the box, greeted by strangers in daylight, you wake up inside the maze, in the dead of night. without any of your memories, you must escape into the glade and navigate who you are, where you came from, and what you intend to do with your new life.
𖣂 chapter 4: adjourn 𖣂
Congratulations! Ever since spawning randomly in the Maze in the middle of the night, somehow surviving, and becoming a Glader has effectively pissed Gally off. As a who girl not only 1) didn’t come up from the box, and 2) survived the unsurvivable, he has considered you a ‘freak of nature’ and a fraud, like his mind can't wrap around the fact that you were a good survivalist in an environment you randomly woke up in.
You’ve become increasingly more aware of his character. Only a couple of days have passed, with you deciding how you’re going to 1) contribute to the community, and 2) figure out who you are!! You go against Gally's flow of his understanding of the Glade, and he hates that. Evidently, he is not a fan of anyone rocking the boat.
Which is why he’s currently standing up in the makeshift town hall and demanding that you be “returned” to the Maze.
“How can I return to the Maze when I don’t belong there?” You asked.
Everyone else had found a spot, sitting or standing, observing while you stood in the middle of the dirt floor staring down Gally.
“Then what exactly would you call this situation? Because to me, it’s looking like everything in the Glade was going fine until you suddenly came careening out of the Maze. Right?” He waved his hands around, gesturing to the rest of the crowd, like the other boys should agree with him.
Everything's still going fine now, as far as I can tell.
“If you didn’t come from the Maze, then where the hell did you come from?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember anything.” You said, the words sharp and slow like were trying to get a point across. “Just like you.”
We’re in the same boat.
“Just like me. Just like me, really? Nothing about you is like me.”
He stepped dangerously close and grabs the collar of your shirt, voice low and deliberate.
“Who sent you?”
You grabbed his hand and shove him off, pushing him backward with one hand. A warning.
“I don’t know. If those are the answers you’re looking for, I don’t have them.”
“Both of you, stop.” Alby said, stepping forward. “Gally, walk it off. Seriously.”
He grabbed Gally by the shoulders and pushed him back into the crowd, firm but non aggressive.
“Look, Greenie…” He addressed you. “It’s been a couple days. If there’s anything else that you know, anything that you’re…” His words died out, but you knew what he meant.
…Hiding from us.
Alby motioned to the crew around him. “We have a right to know.”
You could be a danger.
“I would tell you if I knew anything else.” You responded, firm. “I swear.”
“You want to know what I think?” Someone interrupted.
It was Minho, leaning against the wall of the hut.
“She survived a night in the maze, right?” Several boys around him nodded. He stepped forward, addressing you know, staring at you between your eyes. “You managed to take all the right turns. The right passageways. You escaped a Griever. “So…”
There was a dramatic pause. Newt’s eyebrows scrunched, seemingly pinpointing what he was about to propose.
“Either you’re insanely lucky, or you should be a Runner.”
Immediately, a round of outbursts. There were some shouts in your favor, and some passionately against.
“Are you serious? That doesn’t make any sense!” Gally held his hand up, willing some other boys to quiet down. “She’s been here for three days. And now you’re going to send into the Maze as a Runner? As one of us?”
“I thought you wanted me to go back.” You said slyly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not clear enough? I’d love it if you charged back in there. Just don’t bother coming back out.”
That did it. You spat in his face.
There was a gap of a solid three seconds of silence as he wiped his face.
“Gally-”
The punch was brutal. Clean across your face with a crack, and you could tell that he was holding back just a pinch. It’s somehow more insulting.
Hitting him back would be stupid. Maybe they would send me back into the Maze if I hit one of their own.
Maybe I should go back.
You wiped your nose. Great.
“I’m not just going to hit you back.” You said, crossing your arms, feeling warmth starting to seep from your nose. Everything stung, and you were doing everything in your power not to let hot tears start to form in your eyes. You swallowed. You could see Alby and Newt’s shoulders relax. Some of the boys, however, almost deflated with disappointment.
Gally shook his hand. “That’s what I thought.”
He turned from you, walking back into a group of snickers and oohs.
Then you were angry enough to take a few steps, rear your leg back, and kick him where it hurts.
There was a huge uproar in the crowd as Gally doubled over into a couple other boys, clearly boiling, and he was about to turn and lunge again until someone grabbed you from under your shoulders and dragged you away.
𖣠
It was Newt who was half hoisting you up, walking backwards and pushing the door of the hut with his back to leave the chaos.
“How hard was it to resist the urge of putting your foot up Gally’s arse?”
He was behind you, so you couldn’t see if his face was disappointed or amused. You spat out blood that was trickling down from your nose into your mouth.
“Difficult. His head was in the way.”
He scoffed and you let your feet ground themselves again.
The momentary quiet was replaced by a death rattling rumble. Even the sky seemed to shake, filtering into your already pounding headache and demanding attention. Immediately your gaze shot to the Maze.
Doors closing. The stone gap was narrowing, slowly but surely, just like it had been for the past couple days (and the entirety of the Glade).
Newt had taken a few steps back now. He looked at you, hands placed on his hips.
“Guess that buys you some time.”
You didn’t mean to, but your face dropped. He noticed and held a hand out, apologetic.
“Oh no, I’m joking, obviously.”
You relaxed, shoulders dropping, a scoff escaping your lips. You tilted your head toward the hut. “Not obvious to some in there.”
𖣠
About an hour after things calmed down, you sat just outside the kitchen with a measly cloth pressed against your nose, elbows resting on your knees. Alby sat beside you.
“We’re not ‘sending you back’, if that’s what you were wondering.” He said, using air quotes.
“Good to hear.” You said flatly. You tore off a piece of a hunk of bread that was held in your other hand and chewed thoughtfully. The best strategy, you decided, would be to sport the bruise unbothered at dinner and sit with whoever didn’t carry any animosity toward you. But for now, you wanted time away to think. You stared off into the slowly dissipating light behind the forest.
“I know that so far it’s been… tense. But it will get better. With you living here. I mean, for the most part you don’t have a choice.”
You had gauged Alby as being a bit calculating. It was part of the foundation of his leadership, and good leadership at that. Everything you were told was kind of on a need-to-know basis, and you didn’t need to know many things as a newbie. But here, he was being completely blunt.
You set the cloth down. The bleeding had stopped, for now. You peered down at your hands, sighing.
“I know. But, about what Minho said…” You trailed off, waiting for a reaction from him. Nothing.
He scoffed, lightly. “Yeah, I know what you’re wondering. Are you a Runner, or a coincidence?”
There was a pause. Alby also looked at his hands, folding them together, before casting a glance toward the closed walls, cold and still, of the Maze.
“I’m honest when I say…” He cleared his throat, almost afraid to say his next words. “Nothing about this is coincidental.”
general tmr x fem!reader. rather than coming up to the glade in the box, greeted by strangers in daylight, you wake up inside the maze, in the dead of night. without any of your memories, you must escape into the glade and navigate who you are, where you came from, and what you intend to do with your new life.
𖣂 chapter 3: grasslands 𖣂
a/n: FINALLY I got another chapter out, sorry for the drought. chapter 4 is almost done and will be out very soon as well!
We don’t know. Nobody knows.
That was his answer to you. Nobody knows what’s outside of the maze.
Well, like it or not, you were willing to find out. Your side stung with antiseptic and the bandage rubbing against your skin. Maybe not right this second, but at some point. You needed to understand how this place worked first. How its people worked. You needed to settle in.
You had tried to sleep, but little rest came, absent of dreams. Like your mind was reaching out its hands, grasping desperately for any memory to latch onto and fill your subconscious during rest. Nothing came to you. Only facts remained- the cold stone of the maze and the clothes on your back when you had woken up.
However, for now you were on your feet. Out of the hut. It was sunny that day, the light glinting through the trees that lined the borders of the place. It might have been beautiful if all the boys in the place hadn’t been wearing the same look on their face. That temporary turmoil, like everyone knew in their bones it wasn’t quite right that they were there.
You let your eyes go soft, glazing over with visions of the maze as you were spoken too.
Based on the look on their faces, you have to assume that they've already tried everything.
“It’s the same for the rest of us. Only a name to hold onto, nothing else. But we work together well.”
Someone waved a hand in front of your face.
“Hello? Still okay?”
You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”
It was Alby who was speaking to you, giving you what seemed like a well practiced introduction. He waved toward the man beside him.
“Newt, give her the lay of the land.”
“Sure.”
Alby headed off to follow people calling his name.
Newt glanced at you and tilted his head away from the hut, motioning for you to follow and beginning to walk toward the center of the Glade with a gentle gait.
“So, Greenie, as Alby just explained to you, everyone has a role here.”
There were boys around the center, messing around with what looked like a garden. People were carrying crates to and fro a hut that appeared to be a kitchen, steam lifting out from a small carved out window.
“You’ve met Gally already.” Newt noted, nodding toward the dark-eyed boy who was giving them not-so-subtle glares from his position across the field.
“Yeah. What is he, the group asshole?”
He scoffed in return, amused.
“He’s arrogant, that’s for sure. But he’s the Keeper of the Builders. Him and the others have helped put up the majority of this stuff.” Newt sighed, rubbing his face.
Your eyes crossed over the number of structures littering the place. It did make the place look more like home.
“In other words?” You asked.
“In other words, they’re good with their hands, but there’s not a lot going on upstairs.” Newt smirked as he watched you take in the rest of the scene.
“It’s about twenty acres of forest and farmland.” He continued. “There’s a creek through the trees down there, and more stuff for foraging. Whatever world exists past the walls, we’re not sure.”
Past the walls.
You nod toward the colossal stone, thinking of the… Grievers, did they call them?
“Do those things come out every night?”
Newt looked down, a glance twitching toward his knee.
“Yup.”
“So other people have been inside the maze?” You muse.
“Of course.” He blinks back, like it’s obvious. He pointed toward a stand-out group about 40 feet away, huddling together and engaged in what appeared to be intense conversation. They all had similar harnesses on, the ones you had noticed earlier.
“You see those guys? Those are the Runners. And that guy in the middle there? That’s Minho. He’s the Keeper of the Runners. Now every morning, when those doors open, they run the Maze, mapping it, memorizing it, trying to find a way out.”
You felt your skin tingle, your bones light. It almost felt like a speech you knew well. “And before the doors close?”
It was strange, the selective group.
Why not everyone? Why aren't all the boys searching the maze every day, save for maybe the sick and injured?
“They’re already back out before then. Anyone who’s left in there for the night… doesn’t come back out.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“Except you, I suppose.”
You had both paused your walking now, standing calmly amidst the routine.
Newt placed his hands on his hips and turned to face you fully.
“How did you get in there? From the outside?”
You shook your head. “I woke up in there. Couldn’t remember anything. Still can’t.” You sighed, brushing hair away from your face and rubbing your temples. “I was hoping I’d wake up again and at least know my name, but…”
Nothing.
“You know… most people who join us come up over here.” He pointed to a contraption in the middle of the scene. You followed him over, and observed the pulley box system up close. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it seemed a lot more convenient than escaping near death inside of a maze.
“Really?” You asked, brow arched. “So I just got a shit hand?”
“Guess so.”
Newt looked you up and down, eyes lingering on your bandages as he spoke again.
You followed his eye line and kept talking. “Brutal night too.”
“I noticed.”
You cracked a smile at that.
His eyebrows furrowed, appearing to be deep in thought for a moment, grappling with something. You saw him glance toward Alby, who appeared to be staring at you too.
You shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to continue.
“So what can I do?” You asked. This was a new chapter for you, though it felt like it was jutting out from the rest of your past. Like it was interrupting the real story. You tried to brush off the number of eyes on you.
Newt smiled and clapped you on the shoulder awkwardly.
general tmr x fem!reader. rather than coming up to the glade in the box, greeted by strangers in daylight, you wake up inside the maze, in the dead of night. without any of your memories, you must escape into the glade and navigate who you are, where you came from, and what you intend to do with your new life.
𖣂 chapter 2: the beginning 𖣂
It was the hardest finish line you ever had the honor of crossing. The air tasted different, almost pulling you in with eager arms and freshness that was different from the stale, nightmarish energy of the maze. You kept running still, even though you were already out, but only ten or twenty feet beyond.
That was all your body could manage. Breathing heavily, you landed on your hands and knees. You took in deep, grateful and indulgent breaths, taking in the new air of victory. A smile twitched on your face.
Sweet relief.
There was a turning of heads. Some shouting. But your vision was blurry, your hearing unsound.
“Whoa, what the hell…?”
“Guys!”
People were calling attention to you. A boy, looking roughly around your age, and looking very confused, was now running toward your direction.
Actually, a whole crowd of them was starting to run toward your direction. They looked just as confused as the first one, but their expressions were also masking the sense of danger crawling underneath. Caution. There was a lot of shouting. Some concerned, noticing the state you were in, and some more… aggressive.
"Something just came out of the maze!” The first boy called out again, motioning for others to join him.
“Something? A Griever?!” Another boy called out, coming out of a hut in the distance.
“No, someone. A girl.” He was looking at you, looking down, like he wasn’t expecting a response. Like you were an animal.
“A what?!” Another teenage boy yelled. He headed over too, faster than the rest. You finally tilted your head higher to take in the scene, to take in the people heading toward you. It was a sea of teenage boys, and nothing else.
What the hell…
You were surrounded within seconds. Your hands lifted away from the ground, and your body automatically tilted backward to land more comfortably on your butt.
“Hey you, can you hear me?”
You should run. But you can’t.
“Someone call Alby.”
“He’s busy at the pit.”
“Well then, someone call Newt.”
“He’s coming. Jeez, calm yourself a little.”
“Calm myself?? Are we looking at the same thing in front of us?”
You didn’t speak. You were too confused, too disoriented, and definitely not in a good place physically. And what would you say?
Someone else in the back caught up to the crowd. He seemed to be the only one making his way toward the scene walking. A slight limp accompanied him. Making his way to the front, people moved aside wordlessly. He knelt down beside you, the first to actually take a good look at you.
“You alright? Can you stand?” He asked, noting the blood lining your side and the slightly faraway look in your eyes.
Honestly, no. But I would appreciate less people looking down on me right now.
It seemed like a different question than what he really wanted to ask, but your lack of response was enough for him.
Someone approached you, reaching out to touch. You noted the stain covered apron he had on.
Oh, God. Are they going to eat me? Is this some sort of weird cult I’ve stumbled into?
“Fry, watch out.”
“Watch out? For what?” He sounded panicked.
Cool name.
The other boy (no apron) motioned toward the deep red and brown still staining your clothes as your arm clutched your side again.
“She’s injured.”
“...Oh.”
A pause. “Get Jeff over here. She needs medical attention.”
“I’ll get him.” A different boy left the crowd. He was rather fast, too.
He’s the only one wearing some sort of harness.
Your eyes flicked between him and the blonde one beside you, who was now standing up and brushing himself off.
“I’m going to get Alby.”
“Newt, wait!”
Newt. Who was leaving for the moment.
The rest were looking at you like you were all wrong, probably for a number of reasons. One, it looked like there wasn’t a single girl in sight, and two…
“Nothing ever comes out of the maze.”
A taller boy stepped away from the crowd, right in front of you. There was an air of aggression. You were guilty before proven innocent. Guilty with what, you didn’t know.
“Who are you?”
“Gally, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t know.”
Gally is his name. Do they all have names that they remember?
“I don’t.” The first thing you said. Your voice came out rough, being that you hadn’t really used it since you had woken up the night before. You cleared your throat. “I uh… I can’t remember anything.”
“She speaks.” Was all he said.
You scrunched your nose, frowning with your reply. ”That’s right.”
Someone else spoke up. “Wait, you can’t remember anything?”
“So, she is like us.”
Like us.
They gossiped.
“That must mean she survived a Griever attack, right?”
“...Well, maybe they didn’t come out for one night.”
“Seriously? I doubt it.”
The boy with the harness had just come back alongside a different guy.
The medic?
“Guys, she’s right there. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
All heads turned to you.
“Wait, so you saw a Griever?”
Your brows furrowed. “Griever? You mean those monster spider things?”
“Spider things?? Oh God, I did not want that visual. So… you saw a Griever and got away? And it attacked you?”
You blinked at him and let go of your side for a moment, side eyeing the injury you had. “Obviously.”
“And you survived.” Gally said flatly. He sounded disappointed, more than bewildered.
“Everyone move.”
The crowd immediately quieted. It was clear this new presence carried leadership.
He shifted his way through the maze of boys as a path was cleared.
“What’s going on?”
“Alby, there’s a new Greenie. It’s a girl.”
Alby.
They were addressing him with an underlying question. What do we do?
Alby looked at you, brows furrowed. “The Box came up early?” Was all he said.
“That’s the thing. She didn’t come from The Box. She came from the maze.”
𖣠
“Alright everyone, there’s nothing to see here. Just go back to work.” Alby waved everyone off. “We have a new Greenie on our hands.”
Why do they keep calling me that?
Disgruntled, people stayed still for a moment. They were confused. Eventually, they started going back to what they were doing, though some heads remained turned toward you as they headed away.
If Alby says there’s nothing to see, then there’s nothing to see.
Three people remained. Newt, Jeff (I think?) and another one who decided to open his mouth and express what everyone else was clearly thinking.
“That’s it? Just ‘go back to work’?” Gally tossed up his hands in protest.
“Yes.” Alby said flatly, not taking complaints. “This is routine, Gally.”
“Why are we all acting like this normal?” Gally continued, agitated. “I think we should all meet right now and discuss what to do with her.”
“I think we should let her rest. In case you’ve forgotten, she took quite a beating out there last night.” Newt crossed his arms in reply.
“Yeah, which neither of you guys seems to be questioning! Why was she out there in the first place?”
“Those are questions for later.” Alby said firmly. “And not here.”
Not here. Where everyone is looking.
You decided to lay down flat on your back in the comfort of the slightly scratchy grass as Gally continued to complain about you. The rest of the boys peered at you, taken aback or amused as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply.
“Is she… are you even listening??”
“She needs medical attention.” Jeff said flatly. “Which I would love to be allowed to do right about now.”
“Let’s get her to the hut. You can't walk, right?” Newt said, his eyebrows pricking up.
It occurred to you that you did not want to appear too vulnerable among this new crowd. So, no matter how much strength and energy you needed to muster, you needed to walk. You should.
“No, I’ve got it. I just… need some help getting up.” You said.
Newt and Alby met each others’ gaze. They placed themself on either side of you, grabbing your elbows and hoisting you onto your feet. Your body creaked and you resisted a pained cry. It occurred to you that okay maybe this was a terrible idea but you’re in too deep now and if you fall flat on your ass Gally might jump you.
Alby nodded toward Newt, then grabbed Gally’s arm and hauled him away. Jeff tilted his head toward the medical hut, and you stalked off, following.
𖣠
You were lying on a cot. You had to peel off your shirt (which was already on its last legs. Well, I guess a shirt doesn’t have legs. Anyway, you know what I mean) in order to receive the medical attention you needed, keeping on your cotton tank underneath. Considering the circumstances, you were given ample time alone to shrug off your near death, being stung with alcohol, covered in some sort of poultice, and wrapped in bandages.
Then, the questions began. Newt had come in first, Jeff leaving the hut right after.
“Seems like there’s a lot of uproar outside.” You remarked as he approached the cot, pulling up a chair to sit beside you.
“Yeah. They’re just…”
“Angry?”
“Confused.”
“Right.” You replied, letting out a sigh. “Well… so am I, I guess.”
That’s one thing I seem to have in common with everyone else. ‘There’s a new Greenie. It’s a girl.’
The elephant in the room.
Newt exhaled through his nose and stood up. “Is there anything you need?” He asked.
“Answers.” You replied.
He chuckled and headed over to the corner of the hut, grabbing a jug. “Will a glass of water do for now?”
“Sounds good."
He handed you a sorry excuse for a cup with water inside. You took it from his hands and took a small sip, the liquid soothing your throat and clearing your head.
“What do you want to know?”
What is this place who are you who am I what are we doing here what is that thing in the maze what is that maze why did I wake up in there why are you all men etc. etc. etc.
You settled on one. Maybe he didn’t know the answer, but it was worth it to ask. This question might contain the answers to most, if not all, of your other questions.
