Always Been You (Dick Grayson X Reader) - Chapter 5

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 5

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 6164 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

The next day, Dick wandered about the palace in search of anything to pass the time. He initially thought he could sleep out the rest of his day in the infirmary - gods knew he was going to need all the energy he could get for his journey home - but found himself instead pondering a certain warrior princess a little too much for his liking.

So here he was, wandering aimlessly looking for something, anything, to occupy his mind. But even so, Y/N's hard stare couldn't be shook from his mind.

Dick groaned, stopping to lean up against a pillar in frustration, figuring his wandering was not helping him. What's her deal? he thought, rubbing his temples in an attempt to be rid of his bothering thoughts. He was to leave at sundown, and probably never return to Themyscira again.

I know who I am, and I know my place is here, with people who actually care about me.

She'd said it with such fierceness, such ire. As if he could never understand her pain.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be on a boat headed back to Gotham City... and out of my life. For good.

Does she really want that? He pondered the question over as he walked to the window opposite him. It was more like an opening framed by marble pillars and fenced by an edge. He leaned against edge and looked over it.

He had to admit, it was a beautiful place. Isolated but untouched by Man's destructive hand. Dick couldn't believe such a place existed. All he'd known all his life was destruction and pain and loss. The Death he knew didn't discriminate, though sometimes Dick was sure Death favoured the sinners, taking any saint it could get its cruel hands on.

Like Jason. Like Tula. Like Wally.

Dick's attention was caught by the open field just a little way from the palace grounds, heading towards some higher mountains. It was the same field he was brought to when he first got to Themyscira. The same field that Y/N knocked him royally unconscious with one blow.

The clanging of steel echoed up to the palace, and Dick's eagle-eyed gaze latched onto a familiar h/c haired girl as she fought against five other warriors. She looked just like them - wearing the same uniform, wielding the same swords - and yet, she wasn't one of them. She was above them, meant for more - just like Kaldur, M'gann, and Connor had told her.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be... out of my life. For good.

Not if I can help it, he thought, racing through the palace halls, down several flights of stairs, and into the streets of Themyscira. If that is what Y/N truly believed - if that is what she wanted - then she would have to prove it to him.

~~~

Y/N jumped back as Calliope slashed her sword at Y/N's neck, then quickly leaped forwards again and slamming her shield into the warrior. Calliope stumbled back, but regained her footing easily.

'You have gotten better, my Princess,' she said, an evil glint in her deep brown eyes. 'But you still have much to learn.'

Y/N barely had time to duck as Calliope sprang forward, sword slashing across Y/N's body swift as the wind. Y/N rolled away as Calliope slashed at her again, slamming her sword into the grass beneath.

Y/N quickly sprung to her feet, then lunged at Calliope's side, tackling her and sending the two of them into a messy wrestling match, both their swords forgotten.

Despite initiating the struggle, Calliope managed to get on top of Y/N, straddling her waist and pinning her arms above her head. 'See, Princess?' Calliope gloated, a smug smile on her lips. 'Still so much to learn.'

'Yeah?' Y/N asked. 'Well, I guess the same goes for you.'

Calliope tilted her head in confusion, but Y/N answered by flipping Calliope over her head in one swift motion. Calliope landed on her back with a loud exhale of air, but Y/N was already straddling Calliope, pinning both Calliope's arms above her head in one hand while Y/N pulled out a hidden dagger from underneath her skirt and held it to Calliope's neck.

Y/N flashed Calliope a wicked smile. 'Lesson number one: never ever count me out.'

Calliope struggled for a moment before relinquishing the fight. 'Fine, Princess. I yield,' she said, offering a defeated smile.

Y/N jumped to her feet and offered her hand out to Calliope, to which the warrior took. 'I yield, today, Princess,' Calliope said. 'But I promise next time will not end the same.'

Y/N laugh jovially. 'I look forward to the challenge, Calliope.'

A round of applause resounded through the field, drawing Y/N's attention back to the crowd that had gathered around her and Calliope. She'd started off fighting five warriors, but they'd slowly dwindled down to just Calliope, the rest now clapping with other onlookers who had paused their training to witness the spectacle.

'That was most impressive, Princess,' one of the original five said as Y/N and Calliope rejoined them and the crowd slowly dispersed. 'You are turning into a fine warrior.'

'Thank you,' Y/N said with a gracious nod. 'But Calliope is right. I still have much to learn if I am to be your champion, or my mother's successor.'

'You are too hard on yourself, Princess,' Calliope said, resting a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulders. 'The last six months, you have grown in leaps and bounds, becoming stronger than all of us - though I hate to admit it. You are more than worthy to be our champion, and to carry on your mother's legacy.'

Y/N's heart fluttered with hope at the sound of those words. Did they really think so? That she was worthy?

But just as swiftly the hope came, it fluttered just as quickly away as Y/N shook her head. 'Worthy is not the same as ready,' Y/N argued, though she offered a grateful smile. 'But I am sure with more time, that will be the case someday.'

Calliope smiled encouragingly back at her. 'Well, until then, I guess we'll just have to try and beat you.' Calliope's hand that gripped Y/N's shoulder slid down to her wrist and lifted her hand high above. 'Who will it be, then? Who dares to challenge our champion, Princess Y/N of Themyscira?'

It was a joke of a declaration to which the remaining warriors laughed or dismissed the challenge entirely. But one voice emerged strong from the crowd.

'I will.'

The five warriors surrounding Y/N split so they could see Dick Grayson standing alone, staring intently at Y/N. He wore just his civvies still, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes told Y/N that he was being dead serious.

Calliope scoffed with amusement beside her. 'Run along, foreigner,' she called out in English so he could understand. 'Or do you want to be embarrassed?'

The other women laughed, but Dick called out, 'No. I came here to fight Y/N. I've fought her plenty of times before. I even managed to beat her every now and again. Haven't I, Y/N?'

Y/N didn't like how casual he was being about this, and what he was implying. Calliope and the other warriors looked to one another with confusion and shock. Not that Y/N ever boasted invulnerability, but she was one of that strongest among her peers. To hear that a man - a mortal man, at that - had bested her was news to them.

'I thought I told you to stay in the infirmary,' Y/N said, silencing the murmurs around her.

Dick just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the field. 'You did, but I got bored, and I figured there are many more interesting and lovely things to see outside.'

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Still the same ignorant boy.'

'Still the same stubborn girl,' Dick countered, setting Y/N's cheeks ablaze with his quick wit.

'What do you want, Nightwing?' Y/N said. She was growing tired and irritated with every second she looked at him.

Y/N didn't miss the slight scrunch of his eyebrows at the mention of his vigilante name - how, just for a moment, his carefree facade cracked - but he answered as if unbothered. 'I just want to talk, Y/N. But if the only way to do that is to fight you, then so be it.'

Dick took a few quick steps up to Y/N so that he slightly towered over her. He'd been tall when she last saw him, but he had grown once more and not just in height. His broad shoulders and chest made him seem gargantuan compared to two years ago.

But Dick isn't the only one who's grown up.

'So, what do you say, Y/N?' he asked, his breath dancing gently across Y/N's face. 'For old times' sake?'

Y/N looked up at him, trying to ignore the intense pounding of her heart against her ribcage. His eyes were irritatingly piercing as they had always been. One look into them and he'd always been able to get her to do exactly what he wanted.

He was goading her, she knew that. Backing her into a corner she couldn't get out of even if she tried. She could deny him, but make a fool of herself in front of her people. Or she could fight him, and risk losing her dignity and pride to him if he won.

Not an option.

'Fine,' she said, stepping away to catch her breath and settle her mind. As she did, she swore she saw him lean after her. 'If you won't go back to the infirmary willingly, I'll put you back in there myself. Just like I did the first time around.'

Y/N didn't wait for a witty remark from Dick, already turning and walking into the open field to reclaim her sword she'd discarded in her fight with Calliope. She picked up Calliope's sword too, and threw it to Dick, who clumsily caught it.

'Uh... I was thinking more of hand-to-hand combat,' Dick said, looking at the sword worriedly.

'Ah uh,' Y/N chastised. 'You challenge me to a duel, we fight under my terms.' Y/N held out her sword, the sharp point of it poised towards Dick. 'Now, raise your sword, Nightwing. And come meet your fate.'

Dick looked like he wanted to say something stupid, perhaps a joke, but Y/N glared a silent threat at him and he wisely closed his mouth. He walked to where Y/N stood, and raised his sword to meet hers. Y/N never took her eyes off him, determined fire coursing through her every fibre. You will not win, Dick Grayson. You will not win.

Calliope came to stand between the two. She was to act as their referee, it seemed. She raised her hands, looked between the two. 'Ready... And fight!'

Calliope leaped out of ranged, and before Dick could react, Y/N knocked his sword out of her way and charged at him. Lucky for him and his acrobatic past, he easily dodged her charge. But she expected that.

She swung her sword down in an overhead arc but was met with Dick's sword, the clashing of steel echoing throughout the field. She swung again, he blocked. Swing, block. Swing, block.

Y/N growled in frustration. He knew her too well. Even after two years, he still anticipated the same moves.

They clashed swords again, this time holding and pressing against one another to see who would fall first. 'Fight me properly, damnit,' Y/N groaned out.

'Not until you stop calling me Nightwing,' he answered, and to Y/N's satisfaction he sounded hard of breath.

'Is that what all this is about?' Y/N asked, slightly bewildered. 'Why you wanted to fight? You're lucky that is the only thing I call you.'

Y/N stepped aside of the fight, letting Dick's momentum force him forward. Y/N stepped behind him and kicked him hard in the back, sending him flying forwards a few metres. Dick hit the ground hard, and for a moment Y/N worried if he had broken something. She'd forgotten her strength wasn't like mortals. But that worry disappeared when Dick picked himself up with barely a wince.

Dick ran at her and she braced for the slash, but instead leaped over her and swept her legs out from under her feet. Just as he went to pin her down though, she punched him in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards and giving her enough time to stand up.

'Damn,' Dick said, rubbing his jaw with an amused smile, 'I almost forgot that you can pack a punch.'

'Stop wasting my time!' Y/N was beyond irritated now, rushing at Dick and making slice after slice at him. Again, his agility and nimbleness kept just a hair's breadth from the tip of her sword, which only irritated her more.

'Then tell me why!' Dick yelled back, ducking under another swipe of Y/N's sword. 'Why do you refuse to call me by my name, Y/N?'

Y/N was surprised by his sudden aggression. In all the time she'd known him, he'd never really lost his cool unless it was at Bruce because he wouldn't let Dick come on a mission, or go to the movies as a child.

Her surprise cost her, as Dick knocked her sword from her hand, twisted her around so her back pressed against his chest, and pinned her against him with an arm around her waist and his sword against her neck. 'Come on, Y/N,' he said softly so no one else could hear. 'You're my best friend. What happened?'

Y/N couldn't believe it. He truly didn't know? His question was sincere, which made it all the more worse. How could he not know that he was the cause of all of this?

Y/N saw red then, that determined fire in her burning hotter and fiercer. With all her strength, she heaved Dick over the top of her, effectively throwing him a good two metres away and cracking the earth with the impact.

She ran for her sword, and by the time he was on his feet, she was on swinging at him fervently, relentlessly, mercilessly.

'You left, that's what!' she cried, slicing at him without a single thought of the next move. All she knew is that if she let up now, she would lose. 'You left, and you didn't even care!'

'Y/N, listen, I-'

'Shut up!' she said, kicking him in the stomach and sending him to the floor. He raised his sword just in time as she brought hers down upon him. 'You don't have the right to come here and tell me what to do. Not when you didn't contact us even once, knowing we needed you!'

Dick rolled out from beneath Y/N, sending her stumbling forward as he got on his feet. But Y/N just swung with a cry, the clashing of their swords almost deafening as she swung at Dick again and again and again.

Dick grunted as he fended off every attack, not even bothering to try and return the favour, but merely hold his line. His defensive strategy just made Y/N even more mad. Was she not a worthy opponent? Had she ever been worthy to him?

'I said I'm sorry,' he said between laboured breaths. 'I realise now that leaving wasn't the best way to cope with Wally's death, but-'

'But nothing!' Y/N swung her sword so hard against Dick's that she knocked it out of his hands. He looked after his weapon in shock but Y/N was already punching him so hard in the stomach that he flew high in the air for a moment before crash-landing, cracking the earth he laid on.

As Dick groaned with pain, Y/N walked on over and pressed a foot hard against his chest, preventing him from getting back up. She pointed her sword at his throat, forcing him to look up at her with those piercing blue eyes that looked at her like she was unrecognisable.

Good.

'But. Nothing,' she said softly this time, coldly. There was so much more she wanted to tell him, to shout and yell and scream in his stupidly beautiful face to make him understand. But no clear enough words came to mind, so she stepped off Dick and retracted her sword.

She turned to see a larger crowd of warriors had congregated to watch the fight. And although she had won, Y/N didn't feel overly victorious. Some of the warriors were smiling and cheering, but Y/N spotted Calliope in the front, eyeing her Princess with curiosity and worry.

Her deep brown eyes asked a silent question: are you okay?

Y/N nodded upwards in a dismissive manner, as if to say: we will discuss this later.

Calliope nodded in understanding, and that was the end of the conversation.

'We're done here,' Y/N said for all to hear as she made to head back to the crowd.

'Wait, Y/N,' Dick grunted out as he pushed himself to his feet, holding his ribs that were no doubt bruised if not cracked.

Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, stone cold expression on her face. 'That's Wonderess to you, Nightwing. I suggest you head back to the infirmary like I told you to before and rest up. You've got a long voyage ahead of you tonight.'

'But-'

'Goodbye, Nightwing.'

Y/N didn't wait for his reaction as she turned to rejoin her fellow warriors. Internally, she just wanted to be alone, but the women looked up to her, respected her. They would want to congratulate their princess on her victory.

So that is who she became once more, the smiling and proud warrior princess she had forced herself to become in order to block out her former weaknesses.

In order to block out him, who she spotted in the corner of her eye being aided by two women in blue nurse robes. And as much as she tried to block him out, a pinprick of guilt punctured her heart as she watched him be taken down the stairs and back to the palace.

'Congratulations, Princess,' Calliope said softly, drawing Y/N's attention back to the present. 'That was... a brutal fight.'

Y/N stood up straighter, shook herself slightly to get back into character. 'Nothing I couldn't handle. He is but a mere mortal after all.'

'I wasn't talking about the physicality of the battle, Princess,' Calliope said with a knowing tone.

Y/N's facade cracked slightly as Calliope gave her a knowing look. Calliope was more perceptive than Y/N gave her credit for.

She quickly regained her composure and flashed Calliope an easy smile as she patted her on the shoulder. 'Well, just as well we are not only warriors in strength, but of the mind, too. Like the great Athena herself.'

Before Calliope could stop her, Y/N strode past her and down the stairs. She wasn't heading for the palace or the markets or anywhere really. She just needed to be alone.

Y/N didn't stop walking until her feet hit the waves of the ocean lapping at the white sand of Themyscira's shore. She'd be back down here at nightfall. It will be the last time I see him, she realised, and despite her anger and her hurt, tears sprung to her eyes at the thought.

You're my best friend. Always have been...

Always will be.

And right there, alone on the beach, Y/N allowed herself to cry her heart out. In anger, in hurt, and all for a love that refused to let her go. It was so cruel of him, of the universe, to seek her out just when she thought she'd found a new home.

But as Y/N cried and her tears joined the ocean lapping at her feet, she found she had never felt more alone.

~~~

Dick's hands weren't shackled, but as the entourage of guards escorted him from all sides down the long staircase from the palace to the docks, he'd never felt more imprisoned.

Only a small party of people had come to send him off. The sunset was approaching dusk, so Dick figured most of the women would be preparing or sharing a meal together already. Queen Hippolyta stood by the small boat at the end of the dock with another squad of guards.

To Dick's surprise, Y/N stood beside her grandmother, but she didn't look too happy. In fact, she wasn't showing any emotion, just was staring ahead of her as if in a trance.

Or she's just trying to ignore me. All afternoon and throughout dinner all Dick could envision were Y/N's pain-filled eyes as they'd sparred. She was normally so calculative, calm, composed when she fought, always trying to de-escalate a situation even with the villains back home.

But she'd fought like a cornered animal, where her only way out had been to fight. Lashing out wildly, dangerously, carelessly. And at the end, when she'd stood above him with that cold expression, he realised it was all because of him.

He'd done this to her, pushed her away, ignored her, discarded her as if she hadn't been grieving too. He'd been so naive to think she'd always be there for him, that she'd be waiting for him after all that time, not when he hadn't spared hers or any of the teams' feelings a single thought after he left.

But he'd seen her smiling with Calliope and the other women, the way she used to with him and Kaldur and M'gann and Connor and Wally. They used to be a family, but he'd single-handedly destroyed that.

But Y/N had found a new one. All on her own. So what right did he have to tell her she had to leave when she'd finally found happiness again?

Dick couldn't even answer that himself, but the guilt that weighed him down was answer enough.

The guards surrounding him walked him to the end of the pier and then dispersed as they approached their queen, fanning out to stand behind him. Dick spared a glance to Y/N but she just looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging his presence.

'Well, it is time to bid you farewell, Nightwing,' Queen Hippolyta said, motioning to the sailboat to her right. 'This vessel has all you need for your journey home. There are maps and a compass for you to use, and we have packed some fruit and bread for sustenance.'

Dick nodded his head in gratitude. 'Thank you, Your Majesty,' he said sincerely. 'You have been a most generous and understanding host.'

'I am sorry we couldn't help you with your task,' the Queen said, then looked to Y/N knowingly. When she didn't respond, the Queen nudged her granddaughter slightly, bringing Y/N back to the moment.

'I am sorry, too,' Dick said, turning his gaze to lock with Y/N's. 'Truly.'

He wanted to say more but Y/N had made it very clear that whatever they had been two years ago, they certainly weren't that anymore. And he didn't blame her, but he needed her to know that he wished things were different.

For a brief moment, Dick thought he saw Y/N's face soften at his apology, like maybe she wished for the very same thing. But the moment - if it had happened at all - went as quickly as it came, and Y/N's face was blank once more.

Dick let out a breath of defeat, then flashed a polite smile to the Queen and the guards around him. 'Well, it's been a pleasure.'

He gave a final nod of thanks, to which the Queen reciprocated, and then he made his way to the boat. But before he jumped on, he turned around to speak directly to Y/N.

'I'll tell them all you said hi,' Dick said, a half-amused smile on his lips.

Y/N's jaw tensed then, and Dick imagined it was taking all her will not to do anything. It annoyed him slightly that she couldn't even say one word to him, not even about their friends who also missed her. But he just turned back to the boat.

But just as he went to jump aboard, the whole pier rocked, sending everyone stumbling a little.

'What was that?' the Queen asked.

Her answer came in the form of another rock of the deck, this time hitting much harder. Some women fell to the ground while others clung to each other to steady themselves.

Dick looked out at the ocean to see the once calm waters now rising and falling and swirling rapidly. It was a full moon night, but even the moon couldn't control the waves like that.

'What in the name of Tartarus is out there?'

Dick turned to find Y/N standing beside him, looking out at the mass of water swirling and surging violently. Dick retuned to the waters, and his stomach dropped at where the violent waves were headed.

'I don't know,' he said, 'but it's coming right for us!'

'Everybody, get to higher ground!' Y/N called out, then ran straight to her grandmother. Dick followed Y/N as some of the guards helped their Queen and the others scrambled up the stairs.

As they reached the base of the stairs, the boat cracked as a wave crashed over it, splintering it in seconds.

'Keep going!' Y/N cried out, pushing her grandmother higher up the stairs as the water splintered the pier and rose up the stairs.

Suddenly, out of the water surged a tentacle, striking the stairs just below Dick's feet. The marble crumbled like sand and tumbled down into the still rising water.

Another tentacle struck out, this time grabbing a hold of one of the guards and throwing her into the side of the mountain.

'Dimitra!' Calliope called out beside Dick, frozen on the steps as she looked after her fallen friend.

Dick looked up to see another tentacle emerge from the rising water and grabbed Calliope and hauled her up more stairs. 'Keep moving!'

The tentacles kept coming out of the water, slamming into the stairs, crushing or throwing any warrior they could get their slimy suckers on. All Dick was focussed on was dragging Calliope up the stairs as fast as he could until they were safe.

They reached a small landing in the stairs and finally the water stopped rising just a few steps below them, and the creature fully emerged. Seemingly hundreds of tentacles flayed around, all coming from the bulbous, slimy head of a creature Dick thought only existed in books.

'Kraken,' Queen Hippolyta said in disbelief.

'They exist?!' Dick asked, not truly believing what he was seeing.

'Of course they exist,' the Queen scolded. 'Hades created the Kraken to help defeat the Titans long ago. They are powerful but usually docile and dormant creatures.'

'Well, I'm afraid to say Your Majesty, but this one seems very much awake and destructive,' Dick said

'Duck!' Y/N cried out as a tentacle came swiping at their heads. Dick ducked with everyone else as the tentacle cut through the stairs, cutting the group off from the city above.

Another tentacle struck out towards Y/N but she sliced it with her sword, and a piercing screech echoed through the cove. No doubt the whole island heard it, and hopefully backup was on their way.

'I don't understand,' the Queen said, exasperated. 'Why is it attacking us? I didn't even know krakens lived nearby!'

'It doesn't matter why it's attacking,' Dick started. 'We've got to put it down. Any ideas?'

'Fire,' Y/N said. 'That's one of its weaknesses. We need fire.' She frantically looked around her, probably for anything flammable. But all that surrounded them was marble and the kraken.

Dick immediately started pulling off his jacket. 'Here, use this,' he said, handing it over to Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, looking at his jacket like it had the plague. Dick rolled his eyes and said, 'Come on, what else you got?'

Y/N gave him a hesitant look, but took the jacket anyways. She dropped to the ground and picked up two pieces of marble rock broken from the stairs and started clinking them together to get a spark.

Dick got distracted from her work at the sound of women's pain-filled cries. Tentacles were striking everywhere now, even the ones the women were able to sever were still attacking. The mountainside beside them crumbled more, and more warriors were being crushed or flung off the mountain.

Their party was dwindling, and fast.

Dick picked up a discarded spear and started lunging at the tentacles. 'Hurry up, Y/N!'

'I'm trying!' she called out, striking the rocks harder now. Suddenly, a spark lunged from the rocks onto the jacket, and it quickly caught fire.

'Yes!' Y/N cried, then turned to Dick with a hand held out. 'Give me the spear!'

Without hesitation, Dick threw her the spear, to which she stabbed the sharp end of the weapon into the flaming jacket, twisting it so it wrapped around the spearhead tightly. A proud smile flickered onto her lips for a moment as she looked back at Dick, and he couldn't help but smile too.

Until a tentacle wrapped around Y/N's middle and lifted her off the ground.

'No!' Dick cried as he chased after her, but she was already hundreds of metres in the air, dangling over the kraken's open mouth. Hundreds and hundreds of teeth ringed around the actual mouth, making bigger digestions easier for the creature, but Dick was almost certain it wouldn't need any of them to swallow Y/N whole.

But Y/N was unfazed as she hung over certain doom. She steadied herself, then raised the spear behind her. For Dick, time slowed down, as he was certain the kraken would drop her into its mouth at any second.

But she threw the flaming spear before it could, aiming it true straight down the kraken's throat. Instantly, the kraken's mouth caught on fire, eliciting a horrifying scream from within the flames.

All it's tentacles retracted and wriggled in pain, and the one holding Y/N flung her high in the air.

'Y/N!' Dick ran for the edge of landing as she fell hard and fast. He leaped just as she levelled with the landing, and Dick's eyes briefly met with hers, and he saw the terror she felt then.

She disappeared beyond the edge as he reached over, closing his hand in the hopes of catching her in time.

His hand closed. There was something there. Dick's heart thrummed so loud in his ears he couldn't even hear his own breathing. He laid there for a moment, holding on to something, until his heartbeat quietened.

And then he heard it. Another person breathing. And then he felt it. Skin beneath his fingertips.

He dared to look over the edge, and relief washed over him as he saw Y/N dangling from his hand, looking up at him in disbelief.

'I've got you,' he said with a shaky smile, then started pulling her up with all his might.

The remaining guards helped him too, pulling him backwards until Y/N could pull herself up onto the landing. Dick immediately went to help her to her feet. 'You okay?' he asked.

But Y/N just pushed his hands away and stood up shakily. 'I'm fine,' she said bluntly, giving him a quick side-eye that wasn't quite mad but definitely not grateful.

Annoyance riled up in him again, but now was not the time to be petty and childish. Both he and Y/N looked over the edge of landing to see the kraken limply sinking back down into the water. But the water didn't sink with it. In fact, it rose even more until it levelled with the edge of the landing, small waves gently lapping at Y/N's and Dick's feet.

Suddenly, the water started bubbling, and ghoulish green light emanated from deep under.

'Stand back everyone,' Y/N said, and they all did, weapons primed at the ready for the next monster to rise up.

But instead of a giant kraken, a human-sized figure rose up from the water. Although, as soon as they fully emerged, Dick knew the being wasn't human.

It looked like a naked woman, but she was covered in emerald green scales like those of a snake, and had such hypnotic green eyes that Dick struggled to look away from. Her hair flowed like liquid midnight down her back, contrasting the golden crown she wore. The scales that covered her arms and breasts fed down into her green serpent bottom that swivelled so as to keep her afloat.

The woman smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, eyeing everyone on the landing with a calculative stare. 'Well that wasn't a warm welcome, was it?'

Y/N grabbed a discarded sword from the ground and pointed it at her. 'Who are you? Are you the one who sent the kraken to kill us?'

'Kill you?' The woman sounded amused as her smile widened somehow. 'If I wanted to kill you Princess, I would've sent one of my stronger children to finish you off. No, the killing will come later, I'm afraid.'

'Children?' Dick asked, but it was the Queen who answered.

'It cannot be,' Queen Hippolyta said breathlessly, horror contorting her face as she gazed at the woman in the water. 'In all my years...'

'Who is she, grandmother?' Y/N asked.

The Queen swallowed thickly before answering. 'That is Echidna, Mother of Monsters.'

'Monsters is such a cruel name for children,' Echidna countered. 'But then again, I guess they can be... destructive.'

'We are not afraid of you, Echidna,' the Queen asked, stepping forward. 'We are daughters of Artemis, with the spirit of Athena, and the blessing of Hera. Begone before we make you regret it.'

While the Queen was an intimidating woman, her threat fell flat on Echidna, who simply laughed.

'My, I must admit you are humorous, Your Majesty,' Echidna said mockingly. 'But even with all your blessings, you still wouldn't be able to defeat me.'

'So you are here to kill us,' Y/N said, pointing the sword accusingly at Echidna. 'Why?'

'Patience, Princess,' Echidna said cooly, slithering across the water towards where the landing met the water. 'My kraken was just a warning.'

'Warning? For what?' Dick asked, and he immediately regretted it because Echidna turned her gaze on him and gave him a sinister smile that sent shivers down his spine.

'That war is coming,' Echidna said, slithering towards where he stood near the edge. 'My children haven't feasted on the flesh of humans in a long, long time. Although, you're handsome to look at. Perhaps I will spare you from the slaughter.'

Before she could lean in closer to Dick, Y/N stuck her sword between them and pushed Echidna away and stepped in front of Dick. 'Enough games,' she said. 'Why are you doing this. The Amazons have lived peacefully for centuries. What did they ever do to you to warrant war?'

For the first time that night, Echidna's smile disappeared, and the cold, cruel expression that replaced it aged her by a hundred years or so. 'For centuries, my children have been hunted and killed for sport and glory by those you admire. And while, yes, the Amazons have never harmed me personally, they are the product of all the gods' love and what is good with the world.

'My children are products of gods, too, yet they are hunted and killed, while the Amazons - who are just as powerful and destructive as my babies - are praised and adored. And so for that - for Zeus and Hera and all the gods killing my children - I will kill theirs.'

Echidna's tail rose up to brush Y/N's from her face, that cruel smile returning. 'You have three days to prepare, and then I will rain terror down upon Themyscira like you've never seen before. Terror, that will make you wish you were dead afterwards.'

To Y/N's credit, she didn't flinch as Echidna leaned in closer again until practically their foreheads were touching. 'Three days, Princess. And then you're done.'

'Three days, and your head will be on my spear,' Y/N spat back, gaze never faltering as she held Echidna's.

Echidna's chuckle unsettled Dick as she slithered away and sunk back into the water. As she did, the water slowly sunk back down to the normal height, revealing the broken boat and pier but no signs of the dead kraken or Echidna.

Everyone was silent, unsure what to say after the terrifying encounter. Until Dick couldn't handle the silence any longer.

'All right,' he started, turning to Y/N and the Queen. 'What do we do now.'

'The only thing we can do,' the Queen said solemnly as she stared down at the ocean. 'Prepare for war.'

'And pray,' Y/N said, following her grandmother's gaze. 'We're going to need to.'

--------------------

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @resistanythingbuttemptation | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycat | @b4tm4nn | @cynwing | @lilylovelyxo | @herondale-lightworm | @animeflower26 | @tiny-marie | @jedigrayson

You know the clothes that people say they would wear when being questioned by the police about their husband's very suspicious murder?

I think we should call it widowcore.

LOGAN HOWLETT / WOLVERINE    

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all logan howlett stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST • XMEN MASTERLIST • 07/09/24

@ichorai         ➤ as it was         you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

@lune-hime         ➤ blast from the past

@imaginesforfandom         ➤ a wolverines heartache         On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

@angelltheninth         ➤ feral

@loganbcrnes         ➤ worked up         logan breaks the bed

@woodolly         ➤ anything         Almost everyone fears Logan but Logan only fears you. His wife that happens to be pretty mad at him.

@lilac-mushroom         ➤ i need you baby         When you found out that mutants were being chased and attacked, you couldn't stand the thought of Logan, an old friend of yours, being hurt. Upon arrival at the place he was staying at, you found him beaten up and hurting, his healing powers slowed down. Deciding to take care of him, you couldn't ignore the closeness and strong sexual tension felt between you, just like old times. It wouldn't be bad to give in to it... right?         ➤ above the clouds         Flying over to Atlanta for a mission with the X-Men, you sat next to Logan on the plane. But when his hand sneaked to caress the top of your thigh, you were faced with having to decide between sneaking off with him to the bathroom and leaving Logan painfully hard for rest of the flight. Maybe if you tried to be quiet...

@jbreenr         ➤ apologies         The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.

@buckylattes         ➤ two wolves, one bunny         Logan and Bucky have had their eyes on you for a little bit now, and you can’t stand to wait any longer for them to finally make a move. So you make a move of your own and finally, you all get what you’ve been wanting.         ➤ next door neighbor         Your next door neighbor, Logan, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?         ➤ possessive         Logan is always very possessive of you, his girl, but you can’t really be mad at him even if you try.

@buckyownsmylife         ➤ untangle me         The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining         ➤ first burn         The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.

@loving-barnes         ➤ prom         ➤ a little game

@galatially         ➤ touch me like nobody else does         you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air.

@ellana-ravenwood         ➤ in love with the wolverine

@hannibals-favourite-meal         ➤ sunshine and flowers         Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.         ➤ the way back home         After months of being apart from each other, he’s finally back in your arms         ➤ worst possible decision         How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

@make-me-imagine         ➤ body swap         reader and wolverine get body swapped, and the reader just so happened to be on their period when it happens + them having to deal with each others mutations.

@carry-on-wayward-sun         ➤ wolverine x reader        

@wolfdeamonghoul         ➤ it should have been me pt2         Bucky and you had a good relationship, until he felt like didn’t need you anymore and so he breaks up with you and starts dating Natasha soon after. It only takes seeing you walking down the aisle, saying your ‘i dos’ to someone else for him to realize his mistake.         ➤ what a tease         you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself         ➤ sexting

@holylulusworld         ➤ breed out         you woke the animal in wolverine.         ➤ bed sharing         “Can you do ‘bed-sharing’ with Wolverine? He’s grumpy and you believe he doesn’t like you, but he can’t stop himself from sniffing at your neck and it can be smutty or just fluff. You decide.”         ➤ cranky         Your boyfriend is cranky in the morning.

@kgficz         ➤ newbie         Logan had arrived at the X Mansion only a few days ago, finding it difficult to adjust. One night when he can’t fall asleep, he finds you awake in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation.         ➤ back in time         Set in Days of Future Past; Logan has lost everything, he has lost you. He’s finally been sent back in time to change the future. How can he keep his head straight when he travels back and sees a younger you?

@imyourbratzdoll         ➤ logan training         logan and the reader end up training in another... more fulfilling way.

@mlmxreader         ➤ labels                 you and Logan discuss your relationship over a beer.

@trickstersteve         ➤ the last goodbye

@lipstickandvibranium         ➤ just a dance         Logan wasn’t fond of parties, but he was fond of her.

@youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms         ➤ i guess you didn’t cheat, but…

deactivated account ➤ request

@inkdrinkerworld         ➤ grumpy x sunshine

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 4

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5438 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

Dick stood on the pure white sands of Themyscira, though he did not recall how he got there. But he could not mistake the marble columns and houses higher up the mountain side, nor the crystal blue waters with the odd looking fish swimming. Without ever stepping on the great island before, Dick knew.

It felt like home.

Once Dick realised where he was, he realised another thing. He was alone. Where is everyone? he thought, deciding to walk along the beach in search of someone, anyone.

'Hello?' he called loudly, but the stone walls of the mountainside just echoed his voice back at him. And there were no stairs leading off the beach that he could find. He was truly alone.

Dick stopped when he realised it, accepted it. Devastation threatened to swallow him as the white sand did his feet. The ocean waves lapping the shore quieted for a moment, giving space for laughter and music to dance in their place.

Dick looked longingly up at the buildings on the mountainside. A childish want to join the party overtook him, and his mood soured even more, feeling left out of something huge.

'Nightwing.'

The call of his name cut through all other sounds, silencing the rest of the world so Dick could focus on the source of the call. He swivelled, hope pumping from his heart to the rest of his body, to find the most gorgeous of women standing before him. Only - her face was obscured so he could not make out her exact features.

'Nightwing.' Her voice was like smooth velvet, like soft thunder rumbling his name into the electric air.

'Y-Yes?' Dick wasn't sure how this woman knew his vigilante name. He wasn't in his Nightwing attire, just civvies.

The woman started walking towards him in answer. With each slow, deliberate step she took, her image changed before Dick's eyes. She started off muscular, then grew curves, then was small and petite, then grew to stand taller than Dick himself. One moment she was childish and youthful, the next a frail and wrinkled elderly lady.

Her hair changed colour and texture and style too, as did her skin - as if the light of the sun from different angles highlighted everything this woman was, and what she could be.

She remained faceless all the while, for not just one woman could be every woman all at once and have the same face, the same history.

But by the time she stood before him, she'd shrunk to just under his eyes, her hair morphed and her skin changed shades again until the woman started to look familiar.

Still faceless, the woman reached a hand up behind Dick's neck and brought him down so she could whisper in his ear. 'Wake up.'

'What?' He didn't understand. He was awake - wasn't he? But more importantly, why did the woman sound like Y/N?

'Nightwing.' Now that she was talking right into his ear, her voice was clear as day. 'Wake. Up.'

~~~

Dick's eyes flew open as he gasped, as if he'd been holding his breath for too long. He blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness flooding his vision. He quickly realised it was nightfall, and he was staring up at the night sky through a circular hole in the ceiling.

He sat up quickly and realised that was a mistake, as a throbbing pain pounded in his right temple. He hissed as he laid back down, gently brushing his fingers against the sizeable egg that had formed above the injury.

He was briefly distracted as someone removed his hand from his temple, and placed a cool cloth in his hand, then pressed it back on the source of his pain. Dick released a relieved sigh as the coolness eased the throbbing slightly.

'Thank you,' he half said, half whispered, tilting his head to the left to see his saviour.

The only light that filled the room were bowls of fire situated atop pillars all around the circular room. There was a slight breeze, making their flames dance and cast a myriad of shadows around the room. But from what Dick could make out, there were other beds like the one he was situated on - ones of stone, pillows and fabrics - and a table of instruments and tools beside each one.

He didn't recognise the place, which had him searching the face of the person at his bedside more earnestly, wanting answers. But he was not met with the gentle smile nor the soothing voice of an angel.

Instead, he made eye contact with a very stoic and silent Y/N, her bright (e/c) eyes cold and unfeeling. Not even the firelight could cast a flicker of warmth on the expression she looked down at Dick with.

'Y/N,' he groaned, trying to sit up.

'You shouldn't do that,' she said, and her voice was just as stoic and monotone. 'You were hit... quite hard.'

Dick ignored her and pulled himself into a seated position so his back pressed against the back wall. He was relieved to find he was still in his civvies from when he arrived on the island.

'You mean you hit me quite hard,' he countered, pressing the cloth once more to his temple with a slight hiss. 'Not the kind of welcome I was thinking of...'

'Well I certainly hope you didn't expect a big parade or fireworks in your name,' Y/N bit back, keeping her voice low and contained, something she never used to do before. 'Besides, Themyscira doesn't usually get visitors. let alone male ones.'

'In that case, I'm sorry to... disappoint?' Dick wasn't sure what to say. This was a far cry from how he imagined seeing Y/N again.

'A bit too late to be apologising now, isn't it?' Y/N asked, and Dick couldn't help but feel she was indicating to something else. But before he could answer, she continued, stoically, 'Don't worry about it now. Rest up. The Queen wants to speak with you as soon as you wake up. And believe me when I say she is not so easily charmed as other women.'

Dick's heart thumped faster with confusion and fear. This was all going so wrong. Where were the hugs, or even the slaps to the face and the screaming? Anything but this... coldness.

Just as Y/N was walking to the doors of the infirmary, Dick called out to her. 'Hey, wait.'

To his surprise, Y/N did stop, though she only gave him a slight turn of her head so she looked over her shoulder at him. He didn't care. He would take anything. 'It's good to see you.'

Y/N didn't respond straight away, but when she did, Dick questioned whether or not he should've listened to his friends' warnings.

'A sentiment that, I must say, is not shared,' she replied coldly, then proceeded to walk out of the room, giant wooden doors clanging shut after she left.

Dick suddenly became unaware of his throbbing temple as he stared at the doors where Y/N just was. Instead, he became increasingly aware of the twisted feeling growing in his stomach.

He wasn't sure what it was, but it kept him up until the early hours before sunrise, into which he had three hours of dreamless sleep before some women in white robes and pinned or braided back hair woke him up.

They greeted him with gentle smiles and soothing voices, checking he was all right before they prepped him for his chat with the Queen. Any other occasion he would've tried to charm the beautiful women who did not praise him, but treated him with an innocent kindness that he imagined they treated any and all with.

But he still felt as if he was going to throw up, and his mind was preoccupied by the startling image of Y/N's cold, unfeeling eyes staring back at him the previous night. She'd never looked at him that way before. Similar to M'gann, Dick wasn't even sure Y/N was capable of such indifference.

And yet, she'd looked at him just that way, and it stung more than any injury he could imagine.

He'd been allowed to wash and dry himself, and put his dirty civvies of jeans, boots, white t-shirt, and black bomber jacket back on. Then the women sat him in front of a mirror and combed his dark hair, tidying him up one final time before a guard of six strong women came to collect him from the infirmary.

The six women flanked him as they led Dick through the palace made of white marble. If it weren't for the rich colours in the rugs and the wall dressings, the place would be as cold as the sea water lapping the shoreline. Women of different sizes, skin colours, and ages milled about the palace, each of them greeting the guards warmly before looking curiously and even fearfully at Dick as they walked by.

Dick did not let their looks distract him from the real worry ahead of him, though.

Soon enough, the guards and Dick reached a giant set of doors with gold intricately painted over the door and on the archway around it. The front two guards stepped up to open the doors, and stepped aside to allow the rest of the party to enter a spacious room.

Actually, a room wasn't the accurate description for it. There was a ceiling and a floor, but the walls constituted of a few pillars holding the ceiling above the floor, allowing a stroking view of the rest of Themyscira to surround anyone in the room. From the city just below, to the mountainside further along, and then the sand and ocean at the bottom.

Every aspect of Themyscira could be witnessed from what Dick assumed was the throne room, for at the far side of the room was a simple but intimidating throne made of marble, intricately designed to have vines and fruit pop out along the arm rests, and swords and shields to support the back of the throne. Only two people occupied the room other than Dick and the six guards: Y/N - who stood beside the throne in the same leather uniform as the other guards, sword strapped to her hip - and a regal looking women with with ebony hair that billowed out behind and over her white cladded shoulders.

Grey streaks striped through her hair, and Dick could make out a few smile wrinkles on her forehead from where he stood. She wore a white cloth that wrapped around her body as she sat on the throne, pinched by a golden belt that matched the golden leaf crown holding back her hair from her face.

Though she sat down and looked smaller than Dick, she radiated a power that he even recognised to be respected. As the soon as the doors closed, the six guards kneeled to the floor and placed one arm over the chest as they bowed their heads.

'Our Queen,' the said in unison, and suddenly Dick felt very self-conscious as he looked around at the women then looked up at the Queen herself made eye contact with him.

Dick looked around at the women kneeling before their queen. Either he was hit harder in the head than he thought and he could somehow understand Greek suddenly, or they somehow knew English this whole time.

Either way, Dick rushed into a flimsy kneeling position. 'Y-Your Majesty,' he stuttered, hiding his cringe as he kneeled. The first time you meet a queen and you stutter? Good work Grayson, he internally berated.

The Queen offered a kind but hard smile. 'Please, rise, young man. Any friend of my granddaughter is a welcomed guest here on Themyscira.'

Dick's eyes widened, looking to Y/N for confirmation. 'Granddaughter? So... So that would make Y/N-'

'A princess of Themyscira,' Y/N answered monotone. 'But I can assure you, Nightwing, that I do not consider myself exempt from work because of the newfound title. I believe in strong connections, on working with others and creating a strong unit with which to fight alongside.'

Y/N looked directly at Dick, her eyes piercing his as if asking a silent question. What about you? Do you believe in the same?

Dick didn't know why he felt slightly ashamed, but he did, and feeling a great need to be rid of such a compressive feeling, he stood upright once more and addressed the Queen directly. 'I was informed by your Princess that you wanted to speak with me, Your Majesty.' Dick dialled up the charm - opened his arms in offer, and let a loose and charming smile curl his lips upward. 'I am yours to question.'

But the Queen only offered a half-smile in return, amusement never quite reaching her eyes like Dick was used to when charming other women.

'How... noble of you to think you are helping us out,' the Queen said, arms resting peacefully on the throne's armrests, but her eyes locked Dick to the ground with their intensity and fire. 'But let me make one thing clear. You are our guest because I deem it so. I'm sure you are well aware that our island isn't meant for man or mere mortals. You are not meant to be here, so it would be wise of you not to take our hospitality for absolute fondness or security.'

While always the usual jokester, Dick had always understood from a young age when someone was being serious with him. And especially when he wasn't the one in power in a situation such as this.

Dick nodded his head solemnly, and mustered up his most serious expression and voice to express his sincerity. 'Of course, Your Majesty. How can I help you?'

'Well, to begin with,' she said, pleased with his new compliant demeanour, 'you can start by telling us how you found Themyscira.'

'Through old sailing legends and odd encounters fisherman have had in this area,' Dick answered, briefly looking at Y/N as he continued. 'My friends and I collaborated and researched and came to the conclusion that this area - an area which has no volcanic or underwater mapping of any kind - would be my best bet at finding the island. That, and some reporting of odd-looking fish.'

Dick couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he sounded. 'I'll admit that was a stretch, but one of my friends comes from the sea himself. I trust his judgement on all things sea-related.'

The Queen nodded her head thoughtfully, and Dick wondered if she was impressed by his deduction. 'But if others have been swayed for hundreds and thousands of years by our defences, how come you were not?'

Dick went to answer but quickly stopped himself. Blinked once. Twice. It was a good question.

'I-I don't know, Your Majesty,' he admitted. 'All I know is that, one moment I was talking with Alfred - a guardian of sorts, but he's pretty much family - and then I hit something invisible, twice actually, and my line to him was cut.

His gaze flickered between her and Y/N, who looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. 'We were discussing your Princess, actually. We were just hoping she'd be out here, that's all.'

'Is that why you've come, then?' the Queen asked. 'To speak to my granddaughter.'

'Well, not just speak, Your Majesty,' Dick said. 'I wanted to recruit her for a mission back home.' He spoke directly to Y/N then, eyes locking. 'We could really use your help. I could really use your help, Y/N.'

One of the guards beside him raised her spear to point at his neck. The tip of the blade was a hair's breadth away from his bobbing Adam's apple.

'How dare you talk to our Princess directly,' she growled. 'Show some respect.'

Y/N raised a hand up. 'Easy, Calliope,' Y/N said with a soft but commanding voice that resonated like a melody through the room. The guard - Calliope - looked long and hard at Dick until she eventually returned to her post beside him, quiet and still.

Dick allowed himself a steadying breath. How many times can I be almost killed in the shortest span of time? he asked himself, before looking back to Y/N.

'If talk is what you want, Nightwing,' Y/N said for the whole room to hear, 'then talk is all you shall get. But if you intend to take me back with you, then I am afraid your breath will be wasted on words I will not hear.'

'But, Y/N, you don't even know what I am going to say,' Dick objected, disbelieving that Y/N Prince - Wonderess, his best friend for nearly a decade, the one person he always thought would be there when he needed her - was looking down at him now with no warmth, no familiarity, no room for hope and belief.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, perhaps berate him and shun him more, but the Queen interrupted. 'He has a point, dearest,' she said, and gracefully rose from her throne.

Immediately, a guard was there helping her down the few steps from the dais that held the throne. Now that she was standing, Dick saw how her robes drowned her, and imagined how frail she was underneath it all. She spoke and appeared strong, but obviously immortality had its limits. Even the strong had to age at one point.

'We shall leave you and our guest to discuss your... personal matters,' the Queen explained further, looking between Dick and Y/N with scrutinising eyes. But she was quickly hurried out of the throne room, leaving Dick and Y/N alone together for the first time in two years.

Dick hated the silence that seemed to suffocate them, but he couldn't find the words to breathe new air into the space. So he just looked at her. She was both entirely the same and entirely different at the same time. She'd gained more muscle in her arms and legs, her face had sharpened with maturity but not to the point she looked harsh. She looked fierce, and the leather skirt, sandals, and plated armour top alongside her sword certainly added to that effect.

Dick had always found her fierce, the most fierce out of their entire team when they first formed. It had sometimes just got lost when she laughed, when she smiled, when she didn't know modern world slang because her mother never knew either.

But she wasn't smiling now, nor laughing. Now, she stood before Dick, the picture-perfect warrior, as if she was born to be as such.

As if it were her destiny.

'So...' Dick started, hoping Y/N would set the ball rolling.

'So,' she echoed back, her tone unamused and bored.

'So...' Dick found himself repeating, then realised she was never going to continue, so he did. 'There is a huge problem with the illegal trade of meta-humans and meta-human testing globally-'

'I am aware, I was fighting it when I was still with the team,' Y/N interrupted, her words unfazed, unfeeling almost.

Dick internally winced at his mistake. 'Of course you were, sorry. So anyways, there is this royal family who-'

'I don't care to hear about your problem, Nightwing,' Y/N cut in again, this time with annoyance and anger threatening to sharpen her words. 'Nor do I care that you infiltrated our island, crashed on our beaches, and waltzed into my people's home with swagger and self righteousness.'

Now Dick was getting annoyed. 'Stop calling me Nightwing, Y/N. You know my name, and I'm not even in uniform right now-'

'You've waltzed into my home,' Y/N interrupted, and finally, a spark of ire igniting in her previously cold e/c eyes, 'and have demanded I help you, when you couldn't even spare me one word over the past two years.'

Suddenly sheepish, Dick didn't know how to respond. Y/N finally stepped down from the dais and walked over to him. She only stopped when she was two steps away from him, and he could see it then, how she was straining against something internally. It was in her tight jaw - clenching and unclenching - and it was in her stiff posture.

'We might've been friends when you left,' she said softly, heatedly, 'but I found a new purpose, a new family - one that will never abandon me when times get tough or when I need them.' Y/N looked Dick up and down, then took a half step towards him so he could feel her breath. 'If you expected me to sit around waiting for you to come back like some lost puppy, you never knew me at all.'

Dick swallowed thickly as he kept eye contact with her. 'We were more than just friends,' he said softly, causing her angry facade to drop for a moment in confusion. 'We were best friends, Y/N, and I am sorry. For everything that I didn't do these past two years.'

The anger returned, and Y/N just pushed past him, knocking his shoulder hard in the process as she strutted towards the doors to exit. 'Best friends or not, sorry doesn't make up for your ignorance, Nightwing. Nor does it endear me to want to help you anymore than when you did when you entered this room.'

'Please, Y/N,' Dick said, racing after her and clasping his fingers around her wrist. He winced at how she tensed at his touched, but continued. 'I know I messed up. Believe me, everyone made me more than aware of it before I came here. But however you felt about me, I knew I had to come see you. Try and get you to come home.'

Y/N flung around with furious eyes, her h/l, h/c hair flinging as she did. 'This is my home,' she said with absolute resolve and conviction. 'This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be on a boat headed back to Gotham City or wherever you call home these days, and out of my life. For good.'

Dick's heart cracked at the insinuation. Had he really done this to her? His precious Y/N - kindhearted, welcoming, fun-loving, protective Y/N. Was he the reason for such coldness, such animosity?

'But, Y/N, the team-'

'The team were the ones who encouraged me to leave,' she answered. 'They saw I was meant for something more than just silly little missions that got us nowhere. They saw how much I'd given to the team, and saw I needed to go find myself again. They saw, because they were there.'

Y/N ripped her wrist away from Dick's reach. 'I am not some girl you can charm into thinking she is special and wanted. I know I am, and I know my place is here, with people who actually care about me. So do me and everyone on the island a favour and stay in the infirmary until your departure where you can't lie and hurt anyone ever again.'

Before he could reach out again - he wasn't sure what he'd say if he got her to stop anyways - she was opening the doors and slamming them shut again, leaving Dick alone in the throne room, the crashing of waves and the rush of wind the only sounds to be heard.

Dick stood looking at the door for a little while longer, the image of Y/N's hurt and angry eyes imprinted in his brain. He'd been warned, boy had he been warned. By Kaldur, Connor, M'gann. But he never could've expected Y/N to be so... hostile.

Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?

Connor's question echoed in his head as turned his attention to the ocean that lay outside of the room. Maybe he was right, Dick thought. Maybe this was all a big mistake. The biggest indicator had been in her eyes. She'd never looked at him, let alone anyone, like that before. Like she'd rather be anywhere in the world than be in the same room as him.

You're my best friend...

He raised his little finger to the door, though he was sure she was long gone. 'Alway have been,' Dick whispered, and some inner hope of his was waiting for Y/N to come back and finish their vow.

But she never did, and so he dropped his hand entirely.

After some time, his party of guards from before came back in to collect him and take him back to the infirmary. Feeling deflated and having no other reason to be there, he silently complied.

~~~

Y/N slammed the doors to the throne room so loud she was sure the whole island heard them.

She let out a controlled but shaky breath as tears threatened to burst from her eyes. Thank Athena Y/N escaped when she did, or she wasn't sure how much more slander she could throw at Dick.

She'd decided as soon as she saw him at the training field that she wanted nothing to do with him. That the best way to handle him was to give him no room to charm, to speak, to be his usual self and get under her skin. So she'd knocked him unconscious, been curt and unfeeling with him, denied him passage to her mind again.

She'd convinced herself that Dick Grayson was nothing more than a lying, self-centred and self-righteous boy - and yet she found her hands yearning to embrace him, her eyes wanting to inspect him and note all his changes, and her heart yearning for the unconditional love she knew Dick to be capable of.

'Princess?'

Y/N jumped at the call of her title, but when she noticed it was only Calliope, she relaxed. 'Yes, Calliope, what is it?'

'Queen Hippolyta would like to see you in her personal chambers.'

Y/N nodded. 'Of course, thank you.'

She quickly made her way to her grandmother's personal chambers. The first half of the chambers doubled as a meeting place on more than one occasion for Y/N and her grandmother, usually preferring to discuss important matters in the comfort of lounge chairs as opposed to stiff and cold meeting rooms made of stone.

Y/N entered the Queen's chambers, walking into an open floor-plan lounge and foyer entrance, with lounges and chairs draped in fine and rich velvets and satins. Attached to the lounge was a big balcony overlooking the city of Themyscira.

She found her grandmother leaning against the balcony's edge, looking over the island, when she walked out to join her.

Y/N braced for her grandmother's first words. Would they be harsh? Would they be enraged? Disappointed even? But they didn't come initially, and Y/N welcomed the peace that came with the silence. She looked over the balcony to the city below, and the forestry and ocean below that.

This is my home, she reiterated to herself, unlike how she'd talked to Dick just moments before. Even then, her gaze slipped to the horizon line far off in the distance where it became almost indistinguishable where the sky and sea met.

If she were being honest with herself, she hadn't thought about her old life, her old friends since she stepped foot on Themyscira. Guilt tugged at her heart, but she reminded herself that it was them that encouraged her to leave, to find herself again.

Even so, with Dick's unexpected arrival, Y/N realised one thing. She missed them all dearly.

But not Dick Grayson. Absolutely not.

'Your friend,' Queen Hippolyta finally said, eyes never leaving the view in front of her, 'he is... charming, to say the least.'

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes. 'So he likes to think. And he's not my friend. Not anymore.'

It was silent again for a moment, and Y/N wondered for a moment if her grandmother had heard her at all. 'Either way,' her grandmother continued casually, 'he has certainly highlighted some weaknesses in our defences that we will need to remedy straight away.'

'I can get Cora and the rest of the Guard onto that right away,' Y/n said, grateful for the escape.

'Not just yet,' Queen Hippolyta said, bringing Y/N back to the balcony begrudgingly. 'Are you okay, dearest?'

Y/N scrunched her brows in confusion. 'I'm... fine? Why do you ask?'

Queen Hippolyta gave Y/N a knowing look that silently said Don't play dumb with me. 'Isn't he the boy who broke your heart?'

Embarrassment flooded Y/N's cheeks in a wave of red heat as Y/N shook her head furiously. 'He didn't break my heart. He made me realise I was better off without him.'

'Perhaps, but you are not better off without friends.'

The gentle touch of a hand on her arm brought Y/N's attention solely on her grandmother, who looked at her knowingly.

'I can see your love for this place, dearest,' the Queen said. 'From the moment you have arrived, you have thrown yourself into our way of life, into our community and given it your all.'

'Because this is where I come from, grandmother,' Y/N said. 'This is where I belong.'

'Right now it is, but it is not your home, Y/N.' When Y/N gave a confused expression, the Queen continued. 'The women all love you, so do the children, but they do not know you, you do not let them see you - the real you. Only the you that is Princess of Themyscira.'

Queen Hippolyta's hand travelled down to clasp one of Y/N's tightly, looking at her earnestly. 'Your real friends are the friends you left behind, the ones who have fought and lost and loved and laughed with you.' Her gaze flickered to the doorway briefly then returned to Y/N knowingly. 'And one of them came all the way across the world to find you, on the word of sailor stories and a lucky scientific guess.'

Y/N rolled her eyes again, and pulled her hand out of her grandmother's grasp. 'He is not my friend,' she repeated, turning her attention back to the sea, trying to focus on anything by Dick Grayson's stupid smiling face. 'He only came here to make himself feel better, not because he actually cares about me. Maybe once I needed his validation, but I know who I am now. And if he is what a friend is meant to be, then I think I am better off without them.'

'Y/N, dearest, just-'

'I would kindly ask that we never talk about Nightwing again, grandmother,' Y/N interrupted. 'Soon enough, he will be out of our lives - out of my life - forever...'

Queen Hippolyta remained silent for a moment, until she blew out a defeated sigh. 'If that is your wish,' she said, deflated.

'Yes, it is,' Y/N said with conviction, ignoring the painful tugging of her heart, ignoring the inner voice that wanted to scream otherwise. If Y/N was going to leave Dick Grayson behind, she needed to stop listening to her stupid heart and listen to reason. Like Athena, who was technically her ancestor in some respect.

Y/N turned back to the Queen and bowed a farewell. 'If you don't mind, I will go talk with Cora to discuss how to fix our defences right away.'

Queen Hippolyta gave a small nod, which Y/N took as dismissal enough, and so set a quick stride to the chamber doors. But just as she was about exit the balcony, her grandmother stopped her again.

'It's odd, don't you think,' she started, her tone coy, 'how, not even for a moment, he forgot his mission as he neared our island. Not once did he get deterred by our magic.'

Y/N turned around to face her grandmother, who gave a small knowing smile to her. 'He must have a strong will to resist such forces, or was motivated by something of equal power, don't you think?'

Y/N didn't say anything, her thoughts taking her back to the conversation they all had back in the throne room, when Dick was questioned about how he resisted the defences.

We were discussing your Princess, actually. We were just hoping she'd be out here...

Y/N rushed to exit the chambers, not even bothering to close the doors on her way out to fresh air.

What did Grandmother mean by that? she asked herself, and felt the tell tale signs of hope blooming in her. The increase heart rate, the tingles at the ends of her fingers, the small but warm ball sitting heavily in her chest. Surely she didn't mean...

Y/N shook her head; the tingles faded, the ball dissipated. I will not be tricked again, she told herself, proceeding to find her way to the training grounds, where she stayed until dusk fighting out her fears and squashing her childish hopes.

---------------

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @resistanythingbuttemptation | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycat | @b4tm4nn | @cynwing | @lilylovelyxo | @herondale-lightworm | @animeflower26 | @tiny-mari

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) - A Maze Runner Story

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 12,051 Warnings: death, bloody wounds, fighting, mental and physical torture, guns, suicidal thoughts and actions Spoilers: no spoilers because the books and films came out ages ago

After helping Newt recover from his ankle injury, Y/N and Newt formed an unbreakable bond that always had them looking out for each other. When they escaped the Maze, then navigated the Scorch, they always had each other’s back. It isn’t until Y/N is captured alongside Minho by WCKD and Newt contracts the Flare that he realises how he truly feels about Y/N.

Problem is, will he rescue her in time to tell her?

Note: I'm back in my dystopian future era thanks to the new Hunger Games film so of course I had to write for my original YA crush. This piece is based on the movie series mainly. Don't get mad at me, I love the books more, but I can appreciate the storylines that came out of the path they took with the films. And if there is one thing the TMR fandom can agree on, it is that the film cast was the best cast ever for the series. So enjoy - not sorry that it's horrendously long, Newt deserves it xx

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

Y/N recognised it was Minho was calling for help. Clint and Jeff ran out of the med hut to see what all the commotion was. It wasn’t long before they were hurrying back inside, carrying Newt of all people between them, Minho and Alby in tow.

‘Clear the table,’ Clint ordered, and Y/N quickly followed through, practically throwing off containers, bowls and medical instruments to get Newt on there as quick as possible. Once Newt was up, Y/N finally noticed the unnatural twist in his ankle and it almost sent Frypan’s sloppy sweet potato soup right back up. 

She was still pretty new to her job as a Medjack, being the greenie and all. She was the only girl in the Glade of the current twelve residents, so she was intimidated at first as to what role she could play in the place. Medjack seemed the most suitable, and she seemed to have a knack for it, having stitched up some eyebrows and cleaned up knee scrapes with ease and precision. 

But even though she’d seen blood, dealt with displaced bones and joints, she still got queasy doing her job. It didn’t help that Newt was hissing through clenched teeth from the intense pain, an occasional sob passing through.

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Minho said. ‘We split up for only five minutes. I thought we could cover more ground that way. And we’ve run that part of the Maze like a hundred times already. I thought we’d be fine…’

Clint held Newt down as Jeff and Y/N took a look at Newt’s ankle. Jeff only pressed gently with his fingers around the bone, but Newt’s responding howls confirmed the severity of the injury.

‘The bone is completely shattered,’ Jeff said grimly. ‘We’re going to need to reset his foot first though. Y/N?’

‘On it.’ She rushed to a shelf that held bandages, then to a cupboard with flat boards about shin length. She grabbed two of those before heading back to the table.

‘You’re going to have to hold him down,’ Y/N directed at Alby and Minho, gesturing to follow Clint’s efforts. Then she turned to Newt, whose face was slicked with tears and sweat as he continued to writhe in pain. ‘Newt. Newt, can you open your eyes for me? I need you to focus on me.’

To his credit, Newt opened his eyes and he didn’t look away from her. 

‘Good. Good, Newt,’ she said. ‘Now, we have to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?’

In the short time Y/N had known Newt – which arguably was no time at all, as he ran every day and she was in the Medjack hut all day. They didn’t interact unless he or another runner got hurt, or at dinner if only to say hello. Even so, she had come to know he liked it plain and straight, no bullshit. So, despite his pain, he took two deep, calming breaths and gave her a nod to say he was ready for what they had to do.

Y/N nodded back, then looked to the others, who had their hands braced on all Newt’s limbs. ‘Ready?’ she asked, to which they nodded in reply. Y/N gently held Newt’s ankle, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy. ‘Okay, on three. One, two…’ She cut herself off as she slammed her hands either side the ankle bone, causing a loud cracking sound as the ankle snapped back into place. 

Newt’s wail of pain must’ve been heard from across the whole Glade it was so loud. He writhed and pulled to sit up, but the boys held him down as Y/N and Jeff bandaged the two splints either side of Newt’s ankle. Jeff then dabbed a small dose of chloroform in a cloth and pressed it to Newt’s nose. Soon enough, the boy was unconscious, finally pain-free.

‘You guys go have dinner,’ Y/N said to Clint and Jeff a little while later as they were cleaning up the hut. Alby and Minho had left soon after Newt fell asleep, but it was almost dinner time now. ‘I’ll stay with Newt tonight.’

‘You sure?’ Clint asked. ‘We can do shifts if you’d prefer.’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I insist. You guys rest up. I can do this. Consider this my final test to becoming a fully-fledged Medjack.’

Jeff chuckled. ‘You have much more to learn, Greenie, but suit yourself.’

‘We’ll bring you back some food, Y/N,’ Clint said as he and Jeff left the hut, leaving Y/N to idly clean up.

Newt woke up from a dull throbbing in his ankle, which turned into a harsh pain, causing him to sit up in alarm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ a voice gently said as equally gentle hands pushed him back down.

‘My ankle,’ he said, voice hoarse and dry. ‘It hurts…’

The face of the voice finally came into view: it was the Greenie. Y/N offered him a small smile as he finally recognised her. In one hand, she held a needle with clear serum. Her other she offered to his leg. ‘May I? It’ll help, I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment, but the intense pain in his ankle broke his composure as he eagerly nodded. The painkiller worked immediately, and Newt sighed with relief as the throbbing eased significantly.

’There,’ Y/N said, wiping the needle. ’That should help for a bit. Sadly, we don’t have much left for me to give you more than once a day, but I’m hoping you won’t need it beyond the end of the month.’

Confusion clouded Newt’s mind as he tried to process her words. ‘What… What happened?’ But he answered his own question as images of the Maze flashed through his mind, and he remembered it all. How he bid farewell to Minho. How he climbed as high as he could along the Maze walls. How easy it was to let go. 

Then the pain fully encompassed him, and then it was just a blur. How Minho found him. How Clint and Jeff laid him on the table he realised he was still on. How angry and embarrassed he felt having his friends see him broken and miserable. 

Newt managed to pull himself into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind him to cushion the hut wall. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked glumly, eyes unable to lift from his injury.

He couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He was too tired, and, frankly, saw no point in keeping up appearances anymore. 

To her credit, Y/N seemed to pick up on his mood, saying, ‘It will heal to a point you’ll be able to walk again. But it won’t ever heal properly.’

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

’So I can’t be a Runner anymore?’ Y/N didn’t reply, finally drawing Newt’s attention away from the source of his pain and to her. 

Newt had only interacted with Y/N on a few occasions. Mainly at mealtimes or the odd occasion he passed her by on the way back from a run, only talking as much as greeting and farewelling one another. As the only girl so far, of course he found her intriguing, but he never had time nor a reason to get to know her.

And while he’d come to think of her as the quiet and gentle Medjack in comparison to Clint and Jeff, he didn’t see an ounce of pity on her face as she looked at him. Only quiet contemplation, as if there could be any other answer but no to his question.

‘I guess that’s up to you and Alby,’ she finally said. ‘I mean, I know what I should say is no. I’m sure Clint and Jeff will say no. But it’ll more so come down to if you want to go back in or not.’ Her eyes flickered to his ankle, sadness glazing her eyes briefly before returning to him. ‘But I think I can take a guess as to what your answer will be.’

Newt’s gut twisted with guilt and shame that she’d figured it out, and his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. ‘So, you going to tell everyone?’ he asked, words thick  with hopelessness. ‘I mean, that’s your job, right? Diagnose me, then tell Alby, then the whole glade how pathetic I am?’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I think you give me too much credit. I’m not an actual doctor, you know,’ she said, coming to stand beside him. She inspected his ankle for a moment, then turned her gaze to him, and it shocked him to see such intensity in her eyes. It was as if suddenly he was the most interesting person in the world.

‘I can say it was a running accident,’ she finally concluded. ‘You can tell your truth when you’re ready. It’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it right now. That includes me.’

He stared, stunned, as she packed up the last of her things by a spare medical cot at the other end of the hut. It wasn’t until she let out a loud yawn that Newt noticed it was dark outside. The silence of the Glade told him everyone else had gone to bed so it was late. Or early, he couldn’t really tell.

Y/N fluffed a sad excuse of a pillow and put it on the cot. ‘Now that I know you’re alive, are you going to be okay if I get a few minutes shut eye? I can stay up if you’d like.’

Now that the initial shock and embarrassment of the day’s events had subsided, Newt realised how exhausted he was still. ‘No, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think I should rest a bit more anyway.’

Y/N nodded and swung her legs up to lie down fully. Newt went to slide himself and his pillow back down to do the same when Y/N spoke again.

‘And Newt?’ she said, her voice soft and almost hesitant.

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

She was silent for so long Newt thought she’d gone to sleep. But then she spoke. ‘For the record, I don’t think you’re pathetic. For wanting it all to end, that is. I actually think what you did was really brave. You might be scared and maybe out of hope, but at least you did something about it. The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

Newt’s breath caught in his chest as it swelled with a mix of emotions. Brave? What he did was the act of a coward. Tears streamed silently down his face, both from a deep shame, but also a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Newt had lost all hope after a year of searching for a way out and finding nothing. But she didn’t know that, and neither will the next Greenie, or the Greenie after that. Even some of the boys already in the Glade didn’t know that. That’s why they waited every day for the runners – for him – to come back with news, with a shred of hope that they’d get out of there soon. 

Newt twisted himself so he could see Y/N, who was rolled away from him, her body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Even if he thought it would all be hopeless in the end, some truly believed they would get out of here.

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

~

Two years on and Newt and Y/N had managed to forge something akin to a friendship. 

Y/N had kept her word and said Newt had had a running accident, and he’d agreed with her for the sake of his worried friends. Y/N had also been right about his ankle; it healed to point where he could walk and do a decent jog with a limp. But he would never run again. 

He was transferred to work as a Track-Hoe in the gardens with Zart. But it wasn’t all bad. As more boys arrived – never any girls much to their confusion – Newt developed a knack for leading others, for diffusing hard situations, and for wrangling the boys into line. Because of that, he was promoted to Alby’s second-in-command, which gave him more meaningful work to do than just the gardens – stuff that might actually get him and the other Gladers out of the bloody Maze. 

It also meant he had more time to talk to Y/N. He would make sure to drop by once a day (and not just at mealtimes) to check in on her. For a time, he convinced himself he did that because it was his job as second-in-command to keep up group morale, and he would visit everyone in the Glade. Eventually, however, he realised it was because he genuinely enjoyed her company.

Since that night, Y/N had come out of her shell more. Still a little shy and apprehensive at times, but she would openly joke and play along with the boys’ antics. She was more confident in her work as a Medjack too, not afraid to boss Clint and Jeff around if she needed something from them.

Newt’s visits became longer, as they talked about any and all things. Aside from Alby and Minho, Newt considered Y/N one of his closest friends. And she must’ve felt the same – or at least in a similar fashion – as she entertained his thoughts about life beyond the Maze, and the rants he would go on thanks to whichever stupid shank put the fertiliser in the wrong place.

It was a friendship built on mutual respect and genuine care for one another, something that helped Newt convince Y/N to come with him and the others when they finally decided to leave the Maze. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep dread and guilt as he waited behind Thomas, knowing that Grievers were right around the corner.

While the others caught up, Newt turned to Y/N – who’d been helping him through the Maze with his limp – and offered her a spare spear he’d been carrying.

Her eyes widened at his offering. ‘I can’t take that. I can’t fight.’

‘Well, you can’t just go in there without something to protect yourself,’ he said, this time forcibly handing the spear over. Y/N clutched the spear awkwardly, and Newt saw the uncertainty in her eyes, in her trembling hands.

Newt felt bad for making her hold such a violent weapon. All her hands had ever done were help people, save them at times. Now he was asking her to kill. It was for the greater good they both knew, but to kill, nonetheless.

Newt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘you stay with me the whole time, do you understand? I promise you won’t have to use that unless absolute necessary.’

Y/N bit her lip to stop it trembling too, but she nodded, steeling herself in preparation for the fight ahead. Newt reciprocated the action and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before turning to face Thomas as he explained the plan.

They fought the Grievers, taking down a few while some of them took down Gladers. The Gladers were backed against the door that Teresa and Chuck were trying to open with a code. Minho shouted numbers at them as he, Newt, and the others fended off one last Griever.

Before he could finish, Minho was caught by a Griever, and Clint ran out to save him. But the Griever’s tail caught him, sending him over the edge of the walkway they fought on with one flick.

‘Clint!’

Before Newt could stop her, Y/N rushed out from behind him, spear drawn back and flying at the Griever in seconds. Not being a fighter to begin with, let alone a good one, the spear bounced off its metal leg without much effect. It did, however, alert the Griever to her presence, turning all its attention to her. Minho leapt to his feet, finally free, and ran back to the group. ‘Y/N!’ he cried as he ran. ‘Run!’

Y/N seemed to finally realise her situation, looking up at the Griever frozen with fear. The horrible creature raised its claw to end her, but Newt moved faster. 

He ran as fast as he could, limp be damned, past Y/N and threw his spear at the Griever’s head. It landed true, puncturing one of the creature’s bulbous eyes, drawing a painful screech from it. Newt didn’t wait to see what it would do next, as he grabbed one of Y/N’s arms and Minho grabbed the other and ran back to the group, practically throwing her behind the front line and against the door. 

Teresa finally got the door open and the Gladers tumbled in, Thomas throwing one last spear down the Griever’s throat as the doors closed. 

Lights flickered on to show they were in some empty room with a door on the wall behind them leading to a corridor.

Thomas looked at the group, taking heavy breaths. ‘Everyone okay?’

‘What’s left of us, that is,’ Winston said, his tone sad and regretful. 

As Newt eyed the group, he noted how many they’d lost, how little their group seemed all of a sudden. 

Minho stepped ahead with Thomas, pointing towards the door. ‘Well? It’s not going to open itself.’

As Minho and Thomas led the group to the exit, Newt turned to Y/N, whose eyes had a distant look glazed over them. ‘What were you thinking?’ he asked, bringing her attention to him. ‘I told you to stay behind me. You could’ve been killed.’

‘I-I know. I’m sorry,’ she stuttered out, tears teetering in her E/C eyes. ‘I just… Clint… It all happened so fast, and I was just kind of moving before I knew what I was doing.’ She looked down at her hands then, and Newt noticed a slight tremble to them. ‘I thought I could help, but I was too slow. And I put you guys in danger too. I’m just… I’m sorry.’

Newt’s guilt came back full force then. He placed a gentle hand over her trembling one, grasping her fingers to stop their shaking. When she looked up at him confused, he just said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking you had to fight. You won’t ever hold a weapon like that again. I promise.’

Y/N opened her mouth to object no doubt, but Newt cut her off. ‘But you have to promise me something back. Promise me that you’ll let us protect you. You can help by keeping us alive, just like you always have. But you’ve got to listen to me, you got it?’

He used his authoritative voice this time, and it seemed to work as Y/N calmed down, her unshed tears now gone.

‘Okay,’ she said, quiet but strong. ‘I promise.’

Newt nodded. ‘Good that.’ He turned to see the others leaving through the door then turned back to Y/N. ’Do you think we’d be lucky enough not to face anything else beyond those doors.’

‘I think we should consider ourselves lucky for getting this far.’ To her credit, Y/N managed a small smile as she looked up at him. ‘But why should our luck run out now?’

There it was again; the glimmer of hope Newt had felt from her since the night he injured his ankle. Newt couldn’t deny that they’d made it this far – by design or by luck, they’d made it. 

And who was he to deny that things might be on the look up for them now?

Together, Y/N and Newt followed the rest of the Gladers to meet their makers.

~

‘I never thought I’d say this… but I miss the Glade.’

The group around the fire grew silent at the implication Frypan’s words had, the memories they conjured up. Y/N couldn’t help but agree as she looked into the dark sky above her, peaking from behind the crumbling pillars they took refuge under. 

The sky was always so clear back in the Glade, she recalled silently. But, just like their current situation, the sky was now obscured. 

The people who rescued them from the Maze were actually WCKD – the people who’d put them in the Maze in the first place. The past twelve hours had seen herself, Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and a boy named Aris find Teresa, break out of the facility, and enter the deadly Scorch. In their search for supplies, they’d been attacked by crazed, infected people, driving the group to hide where they were.

The Maze was dangerous, but it was familiar and the only home Y/N recalled ever having. Out in the Scorch, safety wasn’t guaranteed. 

She looked to Winston, who laid back, his shirt pulled up to expose the bloody bandage she’d wrapped his torso in. Y/N tried not to think about the infected scratch marks underneath, and more specifically what gave them to him. The Grievers were one thing, but the things that attacked them? They used to be people.

Not wanting to sit in her thoughts anymore, Y/N stood up, brushed off her pants, and grabbed knife from their pile of weapons they’d found in the abandoned mall. ‘I’ll take first watch.’ 

She didn’t wait to hear if anyone objected, already walking around the stone that covered them so she was on top. To her relief, the others let her go without argument, putting out the fire and quickly settling down to sleep.

After half an hour, Y/N decided to get up and patrol around the area, knife tightly gripped in her hand and her footsteps quiet despite the sand. 

There was so much of it,  the sand. The lady in white – Doctor Ava Paige – had said in her video that the whole world was just desert now. The thought made Y/N yearn for the Glade even more. For the grass, and the woods, and the bonfires they used to have, and the games they played. The boys – Clint, Jeff, Alby, Gally, Chuck. 

Y/N wasn’t a hateful person, but she clutched the knife tighter at the thought of all the loss they’d all suffered at the hands of WCKD. 

It’s why she didn’t hesitate to follow Newt when he’d found her in her room – for some reason, she hadn’t been allowed to stay with the other girls from the other mazes just yet. It’s why they were now braving the Scorch searching for people that Thomas didn’t know even existed. They wanted a better life out from under WCKD’s thumb.

The crunch of sand had her whirling around, awkwardly poising the knife as if to attack, but she relaxed at the familiar person standing there.

Newt raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, the quirk of a smile on his lips telling her he was just joking. ‘You could do some real damage if you’re not careful.’

Y/N blew out in relief, the knife dropping to her side again. ‘Thanks, but we both know that’s not the case, Newt.’

Newt shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he did. ‘I don’t know, I’ve seen you with a scalpel. Absolutely terrifyingly precise with that thing.’

Y/N chuckled softly, appreciative of the distraction. But her smile dropped as she looked out into the dark cityscape. The moon hid behind clouds so Y/N couldn’t make out anything. ‘Is it pathetic that I’m scared to see what the world has become?’ she asked, not daring to raise her voice above a soft mumble.

Newt stepped up beside her, his body radiating the last remnants of heat from the fire and it warmed her slightly. ’Someone once told me that I was brave for facing my fear,’ he said after some quiet contemplation. 

Y/N looked up at him confused, but he looked down at her with a knowing, smug smile. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him. ‘I don’t recall saying that specifically. But if that’s how you saw it, who am I to tell you that wasn’t what I meant?’

Newt hummed in agreement looking back out at the dark expanse, contemplation scrunching his brows together. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too.’

That surprised Y/N. Newt, second-in-command, casual, leader Newt was scared? ‘You are?’

Newt nodded. ‘I’m scared that we’ve made a mistake. That Thomas is wrong and there aren’t any mountain people.’ He turned back to Y/N, the most serious she’d ever seen him. ‘I’m scared we’re going to lose more of us, and then what was our escape for? But… it’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it. Including myself.’ Finally, Newt’s smile returned, and it warmed that cold pit of despair Y/N had been falling into ever since they left the WCKD facility. ‘Or, at least, I think that’s what someone very wise once told me.’

Y/N stared at him, awestruck. Hopeful. Newt was hopeful again. And she didn’t want to read into it, but she thought the knowing smile he was giving her told her that she had something to do with it. The thought alone strengthened her resolve, and she looked down at the knife in her hands, less afraid of it all of a sudden.

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question. ‘What?’

’Teach me. How to fight,’ Y/N explained, eyes unwavering from his. 

Concern flashed across Newt’s face for a brief moment. ‘Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.’

‘If there is one thing I’ve come to know about WCKD is that it doesn’t actually matter what I want anymore. What any of us want,’ Y/N said, feeling the most certain she’s felt in a long time. ‘The one thing we have on WCKD is that we are defiant. We escaped, and are taking away the one thing they want most of all: a chance to find a cure. So, if we’re going to have any hopes of making it to the mountains alive, I’m going to have to know how to fight. So please – teach me.’

Newt contemplated her for a moment, and Y/N just prayed he wouldn’t say no. Or even worse, laugh. Instead of doing either, he took the knife from Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing across her palm as he did. 

‘All right,’ he said, moving his feet apart to get into a fighting stance. ‘First of all, you’ve got to have a wide-ish stance, and stay light on your toes so you can control when you back away from your opponent.’ 

He demonstrated the movement by quickly shuffling away, always keeping his feet a certain distance apart and the knife gripped tight by his hip. ‘…and when you go into attack.’ He moved so fast Y/N didn’t see his footwork, her eyes locked on his as they bored into hers, knife poised at her neck as if he’d strike.

He stepped away and gave her the knife back. ‘You think you can do that?’

Y/N nodded and took the knife, and for the next hour Newt taught Y/N basic blocks and manoeuvres that he’d picked up from Thomas and Minho and just from basic instinct. Just like she’d been with her Medjack skills, Y/N was a quick study, performing move after move when Newt asked her to. 

She impressed herself. For a natural pacifist, she wielded the knife quite fluently.

They decided to finish the session on a quick sparring match. Newt took a swipe at Y/N, and she stepped back just like Newt had taught her. She then rushed in for an attack, to which Newt threw up his own knife in time to block. Y/N anticipated the pushback and twisted out of Newt’s way as he stumbled slightly forward. While he was disorientated, Y/N gripped his wrist that controlled his knife and pointed her own into his back. 

‘Looks like I win,’ she said, breathless but proud.

Y/N didn’t like the carefree scoff he gave her, followed by, ‘Are you sure?’

She doubted herself for a moment, loosening her grip enough for him to twist out of her reach, knock her knife away and bend to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Y/N landed hard, groaning at the pain in her butt as Newt looked down at her and laughed. 

‘I’m glad you find my pain amusing, Newt,’ she grumbled, rubbing her sore behind.

Newt laughed for a moment longer then calmed down. But his radiant smile remained on his face, brightening the darkness surrounding them. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said between remaining chuckles. To his credit, he held out his hand in an offer to help her up. ’But the surprise on your face was priceless.’

Y/N contemplated his hand for a moment, whether she should just push it away or take it. Instead, an idea came to mind, and she gripped his hand tightly then pulled him to the ground with her. He landed on his stomach beside her, getting a face full of sand.

Y/N let out a loud laugh before quickly covering her mouth to stifle the relentless laughter that wished to burst from her. 

Newt spat and coughed out sand as he made to sit up. ‘Well,’ he started, spitting out more sand as he looked up at Y/N, ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’

That just made Y/N laugh even harder, using now both hands to quieten the giggles. Goodness, when was the last time she’d laughed this freely? When was the last time she’d felt such joy? After everything they’d been through, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten what was like to laugh.

When she’d calmed down, she looked down to see Newt propped up on his arms looking up at her with an odd expression on his face. Like he was in awe, maybe. Whatever it was, it made Y/N acknowledge how handsome Newt had become. His baby features had faded since she’d first met him, being replaced by a lean figure and a toned jawline from working in the gardens every day for two years. And with his big brown eyes, tousled blond hair and funny accent, Y/N wondered how he had changed so much without her realising it. How she hadn’t realised he’d grown up.

The intensity with which he looked at her brought a heated blush to her face, and so she turned away into the cool night breeze, willing the blush to cool down. Newt shuffled to sit up next to her. They didn’t speak for a minute, until Newt suddenly stood up. 

‘Well, um,’ he started, and for the first time since Y/N had known him, he sounded uncertain about what to say. ‘I better let you continue with your shift. At least you know how to defend yourself now.’

Y/N hastily stood up as well, making sure there was at least a step between them. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to practice.’

‘Good that.’ 

They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Newt said he was leaving, he made no move to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to, she thought, and the mere possibility of that being true warmed her heart.

But he took a step away, gave her a shy smile and a small wave farewell. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’

‘Goodnight Newt,’ she said, those two words hanging in the air long after he’d left.

As she finally woke Frypan up for his shift, she clung to the knife and went through all the manoeuvres Newt had taught her until she fell asleep. 

Newt was unable to sleep until Y/N woke Frypan up to take the next watch shift, and laid down to sleep herself. Newt opened his eyes to see Y/N laying across the pit they’d dug out for the fire. She faced him on her side, and Newt noticed with curiosity that she held the knife she’d practiced with close to her chest. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and paired with her heavy breathing, Newt figured she was completely asleep. 

An odd sensation fluttered in his chest and stomach as Newt considered Y/N’s sleeping face. It was the same feeling that had fizzled in his chest when he’d looked up at her as she laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time any of them had laughed as freely as she had. 

And he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked doing so – hiding her bright smile behind trembling hands, eyes narrowed but sparkling with joy. 

All because of him.

He rolled onto his back then, not wanting to give the thought anymore weight. There’s no point getting your hopes up, he reminded himself. But like a moth drawn to flame, Newt couldn’t help but tilt his head to gaze upon her peacefully sleeping. An ache carved itself deep in his heart. How had he not realised her growing up, changing? Being the only girl for a long time, of course he and the others found her pretty. But now that he looked at her – really looked at her, and wasn’t concerned with his life for just a split second – he realised just how beautiful she was. 

It was in her features, but also in her determination to be better for the group. It both hurt and impressed him when she asked for his help. He promised her she would never have to fight again, but things have changed drastically since the Maze.

It was in her ability to still find the joy in things, to still be able to laugh despite their situation.

It was how she believed in Thomas, in Aris, in the mountain people, even if she was scared. 

‘The rest of us can only wish to be as brave as you,’ he whispered into the night, a silent promise that he’d tell her that sometime. 

And with the fluttering in his chest finally easing into a calm warmth, he finally fell asleep.

~

Everything exploded with chaos as Y/N, Newt, Thomas, and Minho navigated their way through the Right Arm camp as guns fired and explosions went off. 

Teresa had betrayed them. Y/N couldn’t believe it when it was revealed in front of everyone, and she still couldn’t believe it as Minho pushed her head down, sheltering her from another explosion. Teresa truly believed WCKD could find a cure, but still at the expanse of Y/N and her friends’ pain. And just when Thomas was going to blow them all sky high, Jorge and Brenda had come in like a saving grace, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

‘This way!’ Thomas yelled over the din, beckoning them behind a weapons container.

However, Minho stopped suddenly and picked up a launcher. Keep going!’ Minho called over his shoulder as he shot at WCKD soldiers around him. ‘I’m right behind you!’

Thomas and Newt reached the container, but Y/N stopped and turned at the sound of a painful cry. ‘Minho!’ she cried as her friend fell, his body convulsing from a launcher shot. 

‘Y/N, no!’ Newt called after her, but she was already running back to Minho, grabbing at his jacket to drag him to safety. 

But Y/N was not strong like the boys, and certainly not strong enough to move Minho in any hurry. She looked up just in time to see a launcher fire at her, then her body felt like it was on fire. 

She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything as the electricity struck every nerve with a vicious bite. After what felt like an eternity of pain, she was granted a moment of peace as her vision went white, then in a flash was swamped by darkness.

Newt’s heart stopped when he saw Y/N shot. She convulsed as Minho had, then collapsed beside their friend unconscious. The second Y/N hit the ground, Newt found his voice again, feelings of anger and desperation clawing their way through every vein in him.

‘Y/N, no!’ His cry came out broken as he made to run to her, but a strong hand gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him back. 

‘No, boys,’ Vince shouted over the din, holding both Newt and Thomas back. 

‘Let me go!’ Newt protested, struggling against Vince, eyes darting between him and Y/N. ‘I need to help her! Y/N!’

But WCKD soldiers were already picking up Y/N and Minho’s unconscious bodies, dragging their feet through the red dirt and into a berg.

‘I’m sorry, son,’ Vince said, and Newt thought he sounded genuine. But that didn’t stop icy terror gripping tight on his heart as the doors began to close on Y/N, Minho, and other immunes from the Right Arm.

Thomas called for Minho, and Newt called for Y/N, but neither could do anything to help their friends as they were flown away. Back in WCKD’s clutches once again.

When the sun rose, the remaining survivors came out of hiding and began scrounging up supplies. They were moving on, Vince claiming there was nothing they could do but keep going with who and what they had left.

Newt couldn’t accept that, and neither could Thomas apparently, as he claimed he was going after Minho, Y/N and the others. Without hesitation or any further explanation, Newt was the first to sign up and join him.

And so, they went on a quest to rescuing Minho, Y/N, and as many immunes as possible. The train hijack was a huge success with immune numbers, but no Minho and no Y/N. Even so, Newt refused to accept that he’d never see either of them again. Even when they almost got killed by cranks. Even when he, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan, and Jorge were almost blown up by turret guns.

Even when he found out he was infected with the Flare.

He could feel it, his mind slowly slipping away as the Flare ate away at his sanity. He was usually level-headed and rational – it’s part of the reason he became second-in-command in the first place. Guilt and shame ate away at him as he sat on the rooftop of their hideout in the outskirts of the Last City, explaining to Thomas why he just bit his head off about being in love with Teresa.

Not that I’m one to talk, he thought as he rolled down as his sleeve, silence wrapping around him and Thomas comfortably. Newt could feel Thomas didn’t know what to say, and Newt didn’t like long silences so he broke it.

‘The crazy thing, though is…’ Newt started, a soft but sad scoff escaping him, ‘I’m not scared of dying. I used to be, back in the Maze. Because it felt like my friends were dying for no reason, without purpose. But…’ Newt looked over his shoulder, past Thomas, and to the peaking spires of the Last City. To where Y/N was being held somewhere.

‘I have something to die for now,’ Newt said, eyes never wavering from the spires.

Thomas came to sit beside Newt, a sad realisation drawing his brows and lips down. ‘You’re not just talking about Minho, are you?’ he asked.

It was how gentle and matter-of-fact Thomas spoke that had Newt’s chest tightening with fear and an immense pressure he’d been scared, until now, to acknowledge. His throat threatened to close on him as he spoke, rendering his words tight and uncontrolled. ‘I failed to protect her, Tommy,’ he managed to get out. ‘I promised I’d always protect her, and I didn’t.’ 

It surprised Newt how simultaneously hard and easy it was to speak about his feelings, and now that he had started, the words just flowed. 

’She’s just always been there, so I never saw it coming,’ Newt continued, a melancholic smile adorning his lips as he recalls the day he met you, how you helped him with his ankle. How, since then, you’ve always been by his side, growing with him, changing with him, supporting him and everyone else around you. 

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

‘I never saw that I could have a future after the Maze, after all of this,’ Newt explained. ‘That I would want a future… with Y/N.’ And with that, his tears finally spilled over, the pressure in his chest bursting into sobs that wracked his whole body. Newt was vaguely aware that Thomas was now holding him, and so he wrapped his arms tight around his friend, around his brother.

‘I love her, Tommy,’ Newt whispered over Thomas’ shoulder, his words obscured somewhat by his tears and holding back sobs. ‘And I’m scared I’ll never be able to tell her before I go.’

‘Hey,’ Thomas said, pushing Newt to arm’s length. He kept one hand on Newt’s shoulder and used his other to grip Newt’s neck, forcing their eyes to lock. ‘We’re going to find her – and Minho, and the other immunes. We’re going to get you that serum that helps with the Flare – as much of it as possible – and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. No one is dying. You hear me?’

No one could replace Alby, but the way Thomas was taking control of the situation reminded Newt of his old friend. How kind yet stern he could be. How hopeful yet pragmatic he was. It was something familiar that Newt was thankful for. He quickly calmed down, wiped away his tears and nodded at Thomas.

‘Good that,’ Thomas said, a small proud smile gracing his lips at his use of Newt’s common phrase. 

Newt couldn’t help a chuckle as well. ‘Good that, indeed,’ he agreed, and followed Thomas back inside the hideout to finalise their plan to get into the WCKD facility.

…and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. 

There was a nagging voice in the back of Newt’s head that was telling him not to believe Thomas. That Newt was going to die, or worse, turn into a crank and hurt his loved ones. That voice had followed him from the Maze, to the Scorch, and now the Last City. It was the voice that had driven him over the edge of the Maze walls all those years ago. But not anymore.

Newt had to keep hope, just as Y/N had taught him. He just had to be brave.

~

Y/N sat in the corner of her white-walled cell, hugging her knees to her chest as she rested her head on top. She’d sat there for hours, perhaps days. Y/N lost track of time after her first month in WCKD’s facility. 

There were no windows, and the lights never dimmed. She pressed her eyes into her knees in the hopes of downing out the incessant white light. Her eyes ached with sleep deprivation, but she refused to sleep. The nightmares were much worse to deal with, and they always came whenever she closed her eyes.

Images of her friends dying in the Maze and the Scorch, of Grievers chasing her, of her friends turning into cranks and attacking her. Images fed to her by WCKD. 

She knew they weren’t real, but she could never wake herself up in time to escape them. So, she stayed awake, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to face her nightmares when the doctors and scientists come to test on her again.

Y/N shivered at the thought of seeing another needle, of seeing her blood drained from her while WCKD turned her mind against her. When will it be enough? She might’ve lost track of time, but Y/N knew she’d been in the facility for a while now. If they hadn’t found anything by now, something told Y/N that nothing she gave would ever be enough. That included her life.

She knew Thomas and Newt would be dumb enough to come after her and Minho – that’s just the kind of people they were. Her heart ached at the thought that their efforts would be in vain. 

Y/N hadn’t seen Minho since they arrived, having been separated from each other and the other immunes. Something about how they were the most promising subjects, she overheard from a scientist one time. Y/N didn’t know if Minho was alive, and if he was, what condition he was in. 

But Minho was strong, the strongest of all the Gladers in Y/N’s opinion. If he was being tortured like her, he would be able to hold on. Y/N highly doubted she would last much longer.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Y/N wasn’t sure if Newt knew she was actually awake that first night in the Scorch, but she’d heard him, his words so soft she thought she’d dreamt it at first. But it had been real; Newt thought she was brave.

She was too dehydrated to produce tears, but an ugly sob desperately tried to escape her aching chest. She bit her lips instead, hard enough to draw a little blood, and the sob died out, leaving her body quiet except for her mind.

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

Even so, Y/N refused to crumble to WCKD anymore. They’d taken everything from her. Her life, her memories, her loved ones, her friends. Even her hope – something she so naively believed no one could take from her. They would not take her dignity.

She raised her head at the sound of her cell door unlocking, blinking a few times as bright light flooded her vision once more. Two WCKD soldiers and two scientists stood by the door, and Y/N spied a gurney just behind them. 

One of the scientists – young male, maybe in his early twenties – stepped forward. ‘Time for more testing, Y/N,’ he said in a cold tone. But he had the sense to look sympathetic as his eyes roamed over Y/N as she stood up, showing how pale her S/C skin had become, how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, how the cargo pants and grey t-shirt hung off her in areas where she used to fill.

Y/N knew it was useless, but still she ran for the door, pushing past the scientists with ease despite her weakened state. However, she hit the soldiers like a brick wall, unable to fight against them as they restrained her arms and pressed her against the wall. The male scientist recovered quickly and injected her with a serum that made her drowsy enough that she wasn’t in control of her body. She was conscious as the soldiers strapped her to the gurney and the four of them wheeled her down corridor after corridor, and all she could do was watch fluorescent lights pass her by as she stared at the ceiling. 

Soon enough, she was in a familiar room: the test lab. 

‘It hasn’t been that long since we last tested her,’ the other scientist – a female, about the same age as her co-worker – said, her words laced with worry. ‘We put her under again, we risk losing her for good this time.’

‘I didn’t make the call,’ the male said as he continued to set up equipment around Y/N. ‘When Janson says he wants a cure, I don’t question him. Do you?’

The female didn’t answer, switching her focus to helping her co-worker. Y/N could slowly feel the serum wearing off – it was obviously only a light dose, the scientists knowing they’d put her under when they began testing. 

But just as they unstrapped her to move her to the nightmare simulator, the room shook, sending Y/N rolling to the ground as glass and steel broke around her. 

Sounds were muffled briefly and her vision blurred in and out of focus. She couldn’t hear what exactly the soldiers were shouting, but she saw them run out of the room alongside other soldiers. That just left her and the scientists. 

Y/N flexed her fingers, the serum completely wearing off. Before she could stand though, two hands roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on, Y/N,’ the male scientist said, pushing her towards the machine. ‘Just one more trip under…’

Fear electrified Y/N’s every nerve. No, not again. With a desperate cry, she shoved the male into the utensils table, sending him and the tools scattering across the ground. Before he could get up, Y/N straddled his upper body and slammed his arms into the ground.

‘Get off me!’ he yelled, struggling violently beneath Y/N. He managed to twist them both around until she was the one pinned to the ground. Y/N struggled but to no avail. She was significantly weaker than she was when she was first captured and he knew that.

‘You little brat,’ he spat in her face. ‘Ungrateful, selfish immunes. Your duty is to save us all! You–’

He was cut off when he suddenly went slack, falling unconscious on top of Y/N. She scrambled out from underneath him, then looked up from the floor to find the female scientist with a syringe in her hand. She looked between her unconscious co-worker then Y/N, a scared and disbelieving expression morphing her delicate features. 

‘Go,’ the scientist finally said, her voice shaky, but the resolve in her eyes told Y/N that she wouldn’t chase after her. The room – no, the whole building – shook again, and when Y/N looked out the window, she realised why.

The city outside was on fire. Buildings crumbled, and Y/n could hear the screams and cries of civilians through the broken windows. The scientist wouldn’t chase her because there was no point. 

This was the end.

‘Go!’ The scientist insisted, and Y/N didn’t think twice. She picked herself up, ignoring the cuts and scraps of glass it caused her, and ran out of the room.

She ran into the corridor, ignoring the cries of soldiers and other scientists who recognised her as a subject. She didn’t know where she was going, but this was the most freedom she’d had in forever.

Then a thought came to her – Minho. She had to find him, he surely had to be alive. She would run through every floor if she had to to find him. So she ran, looking into every test lab, every storage closest, every break room on the floor. 

‘Minho!’ she cried, uncaring at this point if someone heard her. She just wanted to find him. She didn’t want to die without a familiar face with her. ‘Minho, where are you?’

She rounded a corner, right into the chest of a WCKD soldier. He was caught by surprise, giving Y/N an opportunity to slam him into the wall. It was like her fear was giving her a boost of strength, as she kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground. He dropped the pistol he was holding, and she quickly picked it up and smacked the butt over the back of his head. He fell to the floor in one last scuffle and laid unmoving as Y/N sucked in deep breaths.

‘Y/N?’

She whirled around at the familiar call of her name, only to find three other people had entered the corridor. Thomas, Minho, and Newt. Her eyes scanned over them all, heart aching with an intense relief it threatened to crush her chest. ‘Guys?’ Her voice was hoarse with disuse and exhaustion. She was surprised she even had a voice after all her screaming.

Newt stepped forward, a relieved smile gracing his lips. ‘Yeah, love,’ he said, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘It’s us.’

Y/N’s first instinct was to run into his arms, the only place she’d felt since leaving the Maze. But she took a closer look at him. He was paler than when she last saw him, almost sickly with how dark the circles under his eyes were. Crank.

She pointed the pistol at her friends, causing them to raise their hands in shock. ‘Whoa, Y/N, it’s us!’ Thomas exclaimed.

‘No,’ she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘How do I know I’m not in that simulator again? How do I know this isn’t just another test, another trial?’

‘What are you talking about, Y/N?’ Newt asked, worry crinkling his brow. 

’She doesn’t trust her mind,’ Minho said, as if in explanation. ‘Boy, they really did a number on her…’

‘Shut up!’ Y/N unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at Minho. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. Make me think everything is all right. But it’s just a lie. You’re not here. You’re not here…’

Newt stepped into the firing line. ‘We are here, love. I promise, we’re really here.’

‘Newt…’ Thomas warned, but Newt remained, eyes locked on Y/N’s.

Y/N couldn’t look away from Newt. He sounded so genuine, so much more real than previous simulations. But WCKD couldn’t be trusted, and they were wearing soldier uniforms…

Her hands shook but her voice was strong. ‘Prove it,’ she said. ’Tell me something only the real Newt would know.’

Newt swallowed thickly. ‘Okay, um… You cut yourself when you tried out being a Slicer and had to have Clint and Jeff fix you up. That’s when you thought being a Medjack would be a good idea.’

‘WCKD was watching us the whole time. They would’ve seen that,’ she countered, using both hands to grip the gun. 

‘Okay, okay,’ Newt said, looking away a moment to think of something else. When he finally looked back at her, he was calm once more, eyes genuine and sincere. ‘How about how I jumped off the walls of the Maze in an attempt to kill myself?’

The world around the four of them seemed to freeze, as if the world wasn’t collapsing outside. To Y/N’s knowledge, Newt had never told anyone the truth of what happened that day. It was the shocked and tragic expressions on both Minho and Thomas’ faces respectively that had Y/N loosening her grip on the gun slightly.

Newt took a small step closer, eyes never straying from her. ‘I had lost all hope of getting out of that bloody maze. So I did the one thing I could do to control the situation. But I failed.’ He stepped closer again. ‘I was embarrassed, ashamed. I was just a coward. But you healed me and told me something I will never forget. I have held onto it like a lifeline through the Maze, through the Scorch, and all the time I was looking for you.’

He took one final step towards her, unfazed at how the gun pressed hard against his chest. Now that he was so close, Y/N saw just how sick he was. He looked like the early stage victims of the Flare they’d seen in the decrepit city they’d lost Brenda and Thomas in temporarily. And while Y/N refused to believe Newt – her beloved, sweet Newt – was infected, his eyes were the same as always. Open, honest, and truthful.

‘The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

It wasn’t the fact that he knew the exact words – again, WCKD had cameras everywhere in that Maze, they would’ve heard it. It was instead the emotion tied to the words. She felt them, felt the lifeline they’d created for him in his darkest moment. He wasn’t lying, and that meant he was real.

Finally, she allowed the sob to break free as she dropped the gun and threw her arms around Newt’s neck. He breathed out in relief, bringing her closer to his chest, face pressed into her H/C hair.

‘It’s really you,’ she whimpered, grasping tighter to the person she’s always been able to rely on. The person who has always protected her and brought out the best in her. Her closest friend, her safety net, her home. 

‘It is, love,’ he said into her hair, breathing her in deeply. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling away to look up at him then to the other two. ‘I can’t believe you came after us.’

‘I know right,’ Minho said, punching Thomas’ arm lightly. ‘Dumb shanks.’

‘You can berate us later,’ Thomas said, rubbing his arm. ‘Right now, we’ve got to get out of here before Lawrence brings down the whole city.’

Y/N went to ask what he meant but gripped onto Newt instead as the building shook again.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Newt said, grabbing Y/N’s hand with one hand, and holding a launcher in the other. Together, the four of them ran to escape WCKD once and for all.

~

‘Brenda!’

Y/N didn’t care about the rain of bullets and walls of fire around her as she ran for the berg. After hearing Teresa’s broadcast, she needed to get the cure back to Newt fast. Leaving him was one of the hardest things she has had to do. He wasn’t in great condition, but Thomas insisted that he’d take care of Newt. But the medicine Thomas had given Brenda all those months ago didn’t just buy her time, it had cured her completely. It could do the same for Newt.

If she could make it in time.

‘Brenda!’ Y/N cried as she spotted her friend. ‘The cure! I need the cure!’

Brenda understood, immediately retrieving one of the extra capsules Mary had made from Thomas’ blood before WCKD raided the camp. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the injector. 

‘Thanks!’ Y/N said, already sprinting back into the war zone before anyone could stop her. 

She could feel it, the exhaustion, the strain she was putting her body under. Underfed and under trained, she was struggling. But she refused to stop. Newt had come all this way to find her, risked his life to get her out of WCKD’s clutches when he could’ve been administered the temporary cure and been safe on the berg already. No, Y/N refused to let him die without trying.

Minho, Brenda, Frypan, and Gally – Y/N was still shocked about that revelation, but that was for another time to discuss - followed around her, covering her with guns and other weapons as they ran through the war zone.

After an eternity of running, the group rounded a corner to find a sight that made Y/N feel like she was back in the nightmare simulator. Newt was leaning over Thomas with a knife aimed at his chest.

‘Newt, no!’ Y/N cried, running towards the two boys without thought. 

Newt faced her at the call of his name, and she froze as she saw his black eyes. Dark veins branched over his skin and black blood dribbled from his chin. He was a full-blown crank now. 

He raced at her, snarling as he swung the knife at her throat. She ducked just in time and rolled away as he slammed the knife down where her neck was. She quickly jumped to her feet, and despite her fatigue, muscle memory took over her legs, then her hands. That first night in the Scorch came to mind, how her and Newt sparred. The injector was her knife, and Newt her proper opponent.

‘Newt, it’s me,’ she said, slipping into her Medjack demeanour – calm and steady. ‘It’s Y/N. Please, snap out of it for a moment so I can help you.’

She thought he would run at her again, but his brows crinkled with concern and he looked at the knife in his shaky hands. He looked back at her, and the voice he spoke with broke her heart. It was a mixture of his sweet accent and a gargled croak where blood clogged his throat. 

‘Y/N…’ he started. ‘Run away… Before… Before I kill you.’

The scene reminded her of the time he came in with his injured ankle. How desperate he was to fade into nothing because he was scared and ashamed of what he’d done. But just like then, she refused to be scared of him. 

Y/N shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you, Newt,’ she said. ‘None of us will.’

Newt seemed to realise there were more people than just her and Thomas, turning around to see the others. The sight of them seemed to distress him, though, as he snarled angrily and charged at her. She shuffled back as he swung at her again and again, but as she stepped back again, she tripped on something. She fell onto her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Before she could gather herself up, Newt was on her, straddling her similar to how he had Thomas pinned before. Newt raised the knife to bring down on her but was tackled by Thomas.

They rolled for a little, then scrambled to their feet as they fought once more. This was Y/N’s only chance. She pushed herself up and ran for the boys, injector at the ready. Newt was bringing the knife forward in a wide arc that would gut Thomas when Y/N threw herself in between them, slamming the injector into Newt’s arm.

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’ 

She wasn’t sure who called her name, because all she could focus on was Newt as some of the blackness in his eyes cleared and she saw some of his gorgeous brown eyes. She also felt her body finally giving up. As if it knew that this was the end. After all the torture and pain, she had stayed alive so long for one reason. To save Newt – the boy who had been there from the start. So much so she hadn’t realised until he wasn’t there how much he meant to her. How he’d wormed his way into her heart and consumed it without her even knowing. 

She gripped his hand that held the knife in her stomach, unfurled his fingers from the handle, and brought them to her chest where her heart was slowly slowing down. Her weak legs gave out, and she brought Newt down to his knees with her. She could’ve been imagining things, but she swore she saw recognition in his half-black eyes which made her smile as tears finally fell from her eyes.

‘It’s okay, Newt,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay because… I love you.’

Her vision blurred and she finally let go of Newt as the both of them collapsed to the ground. Her breaths were short and sharp as the pain made itself known. A rush of feet thumped around her, and she had the slightest awareness that someone was moving her, but she didn’t care. She was finally at peace as darkness, at last, consumed her.

~

Y/N woke to the sound of waves rolling over on sand. The first thing she saw was grey canvas, then rolled her head around to see she was lying on a cot in a small tent with tables and medical supplies similar to how her Medjack hut looked. But she wasn’t alone.

‘Oh my God.’ Brenda’s face came into focus as the girl crouched by Y/N’s cot, disbelief and relief morphing her gentle features. ‘You’re awake! You’re finally awake!’

‘Ow,’ Y/N clasped at her head at the sudden loudness. ‘Could you lower your voice please?’

‘Yes, right, sorry,’ Brenda said, but her lips split in a bright smile as she helped Y/N sit up. ‘I’m just so happy you’re okay.’

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked, all she remembered was being stabbed then falling unconscious. She pulled up her fresh linen shirt to see her wound bandaged. ‘I thought I was done for.’

‘So did all of us,’ Brenda admitted, her tone sombre as she pulled up a seat beside the cot. ‘We got you to the berg as quickly as possible and Vince got you stable, but you just weren’t waking up. It’s been a week.’

‘A week?’ Y/N made to get up but sat back down as her wound pulled in an unpleasant way.

‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going?’ Brenda asked stabilising Y/N back in her bed. ‘You’ve just come out of a coma induced by physical and mental torture. Not to mention you were stabbed.’

‘I’m fine. Trust me, I’m trained… somewhat,’ Y/N said, this time able to swing her legs over the side of her cot. Brenda didn’t try and stop her, but she did have to help Y/N when she stood. ‘Now, where is Newt?’ Brenda didn’t answer right away, and tears threatened to pool in Y/N’s eyes at what her silence could mean. ‘Brenda… Is he… Is he alive?’

Brenda, again, didn’t answer, and her face didn’t give anything away either. Instead, she just held back the flap of the tent and motioned for Y/N to exit. Y/N took cautious steps forward as she followed Brenda into a completely new place that had her staring in awe.

It was a bustling camp where sleeping quarters and other spaces were mapped out by canvas strung up on carved wood pillars and posts. Y/N spied a kitchen area where she swore she heard Frypan laughing with some others. 

There was a gathering area where a giant stone stood in front of the seats. There were names carved into it, like what they used to do in the Glade. Y/N tried to make out if a certain blonde’s name was on it. She caught familiar names like Alby and Chuck, Clint and Jeff. 

‘Y/N?’ 

She swung around to find Brenda smiling as she was joined by Thomas, Minho, and Jorge. The three of them ran at her, arms wide open to capture her in a hug.

‘You crazy shank, Minho said, laughter on his lips. ‘Look who finally decided to join the living again.’

‘And here I thought I was the lazy slinthead for sleeping for so long,’ Thomas said jokingly, pulling Y/N in for another hug. ’I’m so relieved.’

‘Welcome back, hermana,’ Jorge said, a warm smile gracing his lips as he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

‘Good to be back,’ Y/N replied, smiling at the three males. ‘What happened after I thought I’d died?’

Thomas went to reply, but Minho cut in. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now, I think you should go say hi to someone else.’

Confused, Y/N followed Minho’s gaze to Brenda, who stood atop a hill and was staring over the other side of it. Y/N quickly reached Brenda’s position and followed her gaze to a large garden that people were working on. But her breath caught at the sight of a familiar blond at the edge of the gardens talking and pointing in all directions to people.

‘Hey, Newt!’ Brenda called out, causing the blond to turn around and look up. At first, he saw Brenda, but his gaze soon fell on Y/N and his whole face changed into disbelief.

With the other gardeners forgotten, he started climbing up the hill, and Y/N couldn’t wait another moment so she started walking down the hill. 

They met in the middle, with Y/N standing at Newt’s height on the uphill. Neither said anything to begin with, both in disbelief and awe at who stood in front of them. Y/N looked over Newt, noting he still looked pale and somewhat sickly. But the dark veins were gone, as was the black blood and his black eyes. And the sun shone so brightly that his hair looked golden. It was as if he was never infected to begin with.

With a shaky hand, she reached out to rest her hand over his beating heart. ‘You’re alive,’ she whispered, too scared to voice it too loudly in case this was also another nightmare. 

But he proved her doubts wrong as he rested his own hand on top of hers. ‘I am,’ he said, and the usual warmth of his voice truly convinced her he was real. 

His face pinched suddenly with concern and guilt. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he said, his hand tightening slightly over hers. ‘I hurt you. I almost…’

‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted, using her free hand to cradle is cheek and keep his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t. I am here, too. Looks like we both saved each other.’

To her relief Newt smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. He nuzzled into her hand briefly, before bringing it down with his free hand so he held her hands between them. 

‘Before I passed out,’ he started, ‘I remember you saying something.’

‘Oh.’ A blush heated upon her cheeks, but she refused to look away from him. ‘Right. I did say something.’

She was trying to play it cool, but as soon as his deep brown eyes fixed on her, she knew he could see right through her. But he didn’t smile smugly, he didn’t tease. He actually looked scared as his jaw clenched, fighting to find the next words to speak. 

‘You said you love me,’ he finally said, words tight but hopeful. ‘Is that true?’

Y/N’s mouth dried up suddenly, constricted by all the things she wished to say but couldn’t say all at once. It’s not like she was scared, she just never thought she would live long enough to have a future, let alone one with love. One with Newt.

But she had – she had survived WCKD’s cruelty, she had survived the terrors of the old world, she had survived when so many of her friends hadn’t. And it was her duty to live her gift of a life to the fullest.

‘Yes,’ she finally said, and it was like breathing in fresh air after being underground for so long. ‘I love you, Newt. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I do. I love you.’ 

There was a second of hesitation, but then Newt broke out into a wide smile, and Y/N swore she saw tears brim in his eyes. He suddenly reached one hand up to cradle her neck as he pulled Y/N in for a sweet kiss that simultaneously knocked the air out of her and breathed new life into her. He held her neck and hip, and she pressed her hands against his chest, satisfied to feel his heart thundering beneath her hands. The heart that almost never beat again, the heart that had saved her over and over again. 

The kiss was short but was no less breath-taking, and when they pulled apart neither could stop the smiles on their faces. 

‘I love you, too,’ Newt said. ‘If that wasn’t already obvious.’

Y/N threw her head back in a hearty laugh. She slung her arms around Newt’s neck, a cheeky grin dancing across her lips. ‘I’m not so sure. Maybe we could try that again to make sure?’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. Y/N sighed into the kiss, grasping the baby hairs at the base of his head. 

They pulled apart at the sound of their friends whooping and clapping atop the hill. Y/N felt her face erupt with embarrassed heat, to which Newt laughed as she ducked her head into his chest. 

‘All right, come on lovebirds!’ Minho called out. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’

As they walked down out of sight, Y/N went to follow but was stopped by a loose grip on her wrist.

‘What is it?’ she asked as she turned back to Newt.

‘I just…’ Newt turned to the gardens below, then to the water, then to the sunset that bathed the whole camp in beautiful hues of orange, pink and purple. When he finally turned back to Y/N, she thought he couldn’t look any more handsome with that pure sunshine smile and sparkle in his eyes. ‘Thanks.’

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘For teaching me how to be brave,’ he answered.

Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. ‘You were always brave, Newt,’ she said. ‘It’s how I learned how to be brave in the first place.’

Newt squeezed her hand in return, then they walked hand in hand back up the hill and down to dinner to where their friend awaited them. 

Where the lives they never imagined they’d get a chance to live awaited them.