Deal

Deal

Deal (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 1861 words

Warnings: injury, gore, blood, mentions of self harm

Summary: your worst, most terrifying memory

(I’m back with some 3k+ word fanfics that I’ll be posting soon :3)

if someone were to ask anyone what their scariest memory is, they may say multiple contenders. stormy nights, darkness, death.

but for you, there is no question, no contender.

it was one of those stories that you could only relive when clutched in Newt’s arms, where you were safest. one of those stories that still woke you at night. like most stories, the day started like any other.

you’re running, running alone, which is, granted, not normal for you, but still running as usual.

the reason for you running alone was that the person you would usually run with had gotten the morning off.

it is lonely, but you know that your friend is exhausted. black always seems to be peeking out from under his eyes, and he will often zone out when you’re talking to him.

Newt was probably resting at that moment, you thought as you run, though the last you had seen of him, he seemed to be walking in the opposite direction of the huts.

the sun, previously high in the sky, was now sinking slowly. deciding it would be a good idea to head back, you retrace your steps, trying to remember the turns you took to get where you just were. it was at one of the last turns where you heard it. a pained scream and cry for help, mingled into one horrifying symphony.

straining your ears to recognise the voice, you finally pick out Alby, sounding more worried than you had ever heard him. you start sprinting, rushing forwards and skidding to a halt when you reach the glade. your eyes scanning the area, looking for anything unusual.

the first thing you notice was that everyone seemed to be still, looking towards a point out of your field of vision. frozen, arms suspending unidentifiable objects.

you look over to your right where everyone’s eyes seem to be resting. your heart seems to drop, stopping to rest, somewhere in your stomach. two boys hobble along, arms around each other’s shoulders. one of them is leaning heavily on the other, holding his leg at an awkward angle.

the boy has sandy hair. very familiar sandy hair. “Newt!” you start running towards the pair, the second boy, now he was closer, turning out to be Alby, as you had suspected.

Newt looks up, a pained, slightly confused expression on his face. Alby doesn’t look at you, but pushes past, shouting.

“Medjack, Medjack now!” Clint and another medjack you didn’t know the name of, skid into view.

“What happened.” you bite your lip, looking at the blond boy.

Ably ignores you, pushing people out of the way in his effort to get his friend to the medjacks.

you follow the two, running to keep up with Alby, who is practically carrying Newt. “Get out of the way!” he shouts at a young boy, frozen in place. kicking open the door, Alby lays Newt on a table and the boy crys out in pain.

the medjack’s rummages around, silver instruments and bottles of strange liquids rattling in their arms. Clint approaches Newt, who was letting out small gasps of pain.

he rolls up his trouser leg gently and Newt gives a pained shout. you look down at the leg, your breakfast nearly making a reappearance.

a bloody, mangled, mess, sits where skin once was, sharp bends makes spikes in the previously straight leg.

“hold him down.” Clint puts his hands

on either side of his injured leg. you hold onto Newt’s other leg and Alby pushes his shoulders and arms down.

Newt’s pale face looks up at Clint, like a small child, that had fallen over and scraped their knee. he mouths something nobody can pick out before the medjack bends the leg back into a straight line.

and then Newt made the sound that still haunts your dreams. he screams. not the type of scream you hear in one of those horror movies. a terrible, earsplitting, glass breaking, scream.

the boy starts writhing underneath him, trying to free his other leg from your grasp. the other medjack runs forward and holds down his injured leg so Clint can dab something foul smelling onto it.

he steps back to admire his work. “it won’t heal completely, but this is the best I can do.” Clint picks up a jar and fills a syringe with the contents.

looking at Newt’s arms, he holds one down and jabs the needle into it, pressing down on the pump.

Newts wild thrashes slow, getting more and more tired until he is still.

the medjack sighs and presses a wet towel into you hand, “mop him up, will you.” you nod silently.

Alby has his hands twisted together and he looks more scared than you had ever seen him. he mutters something about finding Minho and hurries from the room.

you drag a chair up beside Newt and begin to gently mop the blood from his leg. you could feel your eyes pricking slightly, as you look into the face of the boy.

you don’t know how long you sat there. an hour, a day, perhaps several weeks. but suddenly Newt’s lips started moving. barley parting, but definitely moving.

a small rasp escapes his mouth, “y/n.” you look down at Newt, who’s lips were moving silently, eyes pressed shut.

“y/n.” he says again.

“yes. yes I’m here.” you hold onto the boy’s hand.

Newt’s eyes flutter open, looking slightly confused. “y/n?”

you nod. and Newt shakes his head.

“no. no. no you can’t be here.”

“what do you-“

“no. I’m dead. you shouldn’t be here.”

you feels your eyes prick with tears. you suck in a breath. “you’re not dead Newt, you’re alive.”

“but, I jumped. I should be dead. why am I not dead?”

your breath catches in your throat as you try to answer. swallowing, you blink away the tears in his eyes.

“you’re alright, you’re safe.”

“no. I can’t be, I don’t want to be. I-“ he stops, still looking confused.

the two of you sit in silence, “I want to be dead.”

you look at him and he blinks at you, a dazed look in his eyes. it was like he didn’t fully recognise you. his eyes were swimming and you could almost see, in your inner eye, the pale boy in front of you, jumping, ending it all.

it was too much. you feel the tears dripping down your cheeks. twisting the blood soaked towel in your hands you bow your head and watch tears fall into you lap.

“why are you crying?”

you wipe at your eyes with a sleeve, looking back into his dark eyes. “you say you want to die. you want to end it. you tried to. but if you ended it,” you take a shaky breath, “I cant-, I don’t want-“ your words fumble over each other in your effort to tell him what you need him to know.

“I can’t do this without you Newt.” you feel his eyes on you and you sigh a little, “I’m sorry, I should be the one comforting you, it’s obvious you need it.”

“Maybe we can comfort each other at the same time.”

he gently pushes himself to a sitting position and pulls you into a hug. you put a head on his shoulder and he does the same on yours. both of you sit there for several minutes, each thinking.

you try to put as much feeling into the hug as you can, for sheer words cannot express the many emotions that bubble inside you.

then, still not speaking, you break apart and you sit back on the chair, drawing it a little closer to the table. you pick up the towel and keep mopping up Newt’s leg.

Clint walks in, “ah good, it’s looking better already. I’ll wrap it up and then you can sleep here for tonight.”

he takes out some tightly wrapped bandages from a drawer and walks towards Newt. he grips your hand as Clint ties the white fabric, gently yet firmly, around the wound.

“it won’t do much to fix the bone, but we can try heal the skin. it’s the best we can do.”

Newt looks up at him and opens his mouth, Clint answers before he can speak however, not meeting his eyes. “no. I’m sorry Newt, but you won’t be able to be a runner anymore.”

you see him nod but can see in his eyes that he has gone numb.

stroking the back of his hand, you watch ad Clint begins walking back to the door, “get him into bed will you y/n, and then let him get some rest. you can go back to your hut after that if you want.”

he pushes open the door and walks into the darkened sky. standing up, you turn to face Newt, “we need to get you into a bed, are you okay to move.”

he nods but as you pull him upright, an arm around your shoulder, you see his already pale face whiten, making his blond hair look odd next to the bright white skin.

you hobble along and when you drop him gently onto the bed, he sighs. tucking the sheets around him, you start to move away, like Clint had told you.

“y/n” he reaches out and arm and holds onto the sleeve of your jumper. you take his hand in yours. “stay. please.”

you nod and begin to drag the chair next to his bed but he pats the bed beside him. gratefully, you climb in beside him and he throws the sheet over both of you, making sure to keep his bandaged leg out of the fabric.

you face each other, foreheads pressed lightly together and hands clasped. both of you look into each others eyes, gentle brown meeting soft (colour of your eyes).

the sky outside the window becomes flecked with stars as the two of you lay there together.

“y/n?”

“yes”

“why are you doing this?”

“doing what?”

“why do you still care about me?”

“because I love you Newt, I love you more than anything, and if you died-“

you can’t finish that sentence. the lump in your throat has returned.

swallowing hard, you force yourself to continue talking. he needs to know.

“if you died, I don’t think I could do it.”

“do what?”

“continue.”

the two of you are silent for another moment. you break the silence, you have to know, “Newt, you won’t try it again?”

he takes a moment to answer, “no.” it’s a flat answer and you’re not fully convinced.

“how am I supposed to know that you won’t?”

he smiles softly, the first one you had seen from him in god knows how long.

“Because, now I have a reason to live.”

“and what exactly is that?”

“to keep you going.”

“that goes both ways.”

you’re smiling now, “let’s make a deal.”

“okay”

“you keep going and I keep going. deal?”

you inch closer to each other noses brushing, then lips brushing.

he puts his lips next your ear and you can hear the small smile in his whispered voice.

“Deal.”

It’s all my fault

It’s all my fault (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 1074 words

Warnings: kissing, violence, injury, mentions of Newt’s incident, blood

Summary: when you break your ankle in the maze, you notice something in Newt’s eyes

the clicking of a griever sounds from behind you and you run as fast as you can away from it. glancing over your shoulder you see the creature crawling after you. you know you can’t run away from it forever.

taking a deep breath you look towards the wall of ivy. you grip a particularly thick one, pull on it and then begin to climb.

the clicking keeps sounding as you climb higher and higher. you climb and climb. that is until your arm slips out of the grip of a string of ivy. you let out a small gasp as you feel your feet slip and tangle in the leaves.

and then you’re falling. you swing on the vines, attached by your ankle before hitting your head hard on the ground, noticing as you did so, the sky darkening. you won’t make it back before the doors close. you won’t make it back at all.

the griever was getting closer. closing your eyes you try and block out the dull ringing in your head.

someone is running towards you, a boy, you think. he gets closer and closer, until your blurred vision can finally make him out.

Minho runs as fast as he can towards you, finally reaching you and grabbing you. he drags you to your feet and hauls you along after him as he runs.

your feet bump along the floor as he keeps dragging you. shouts from a distance, quiet clicking and small grunts from Minho are the only thing you hear.

finally, you turn a corner and see the gladers, crowded around a rapidly closing door. they shout as they spot Minho and you see through your blurred vision, Newt’s face momentarily split into joy then fills with horror as he sees Minho dragging you.

he bounces on the balls of his feet as the two of you stumble towards the group. shouts fight to rise above each other, “hurry!”

“come on, you can do it”

“leave her Minho, save yourself!” you’re almost certain that one was Gally.

then a huge gasp escapes the gladers and you look back to see what had happened. your heart drops into your stomach as you see Newt break free of the crowd and limp as fast as he could towards you.

he reaches you and gently helps Minho carry you. running in a three, you’re arms draped around both Newt and Minho’s shoulders, you race towards the opening.

the loud screeching of the doors closing pierces the air.

Newt unhook your arms from his shoulder and pushes you and Minho in front of him, through the gap. he jumps through after you, only just snatching his leg out the way before it was crushed.

you slump onto the ground and Minho bends down, examining you for any injuries. “I don’t see why you didn’t just leave her Minho.” Gally’s voice murmurs from somewhere behind you.

a loud thump sounds and you turn to see Gally clutching a bleeding nose and Newt, fist splattered with blood and face contorted into a snarl. he moves forwards, and draws his fist back again, “say that again you bloody shank, say it again and see what happens.”

Minho straightens and puts a hand on his shoulder, talking in his ear. Newt shoots a glare at Gally and turns to you, dropping down beside you.

“What happened y/n”

your voice comes out slightly hoarse as you say, “I was being caused by a griever so I climbed the ivy but I fell and hit my head”

you see Newt’s face drain of colour and he looks like he’s going to faint. something is flashing in his eyes, and Minho is looking at his friend anxiously.

he touches his friends arm and Newt grasps at his wrist still looking faint. sucking in a deep breath of forced calm, he looks back at you. you notice his eyes flitting to your ankle.

“y/n, what happened to your ankle”

“My foot got tangled in the ivy as I fell, I think I might have twisted it”

Newt looks at Minho questioningly. Minho looks closer at the ankle, at the sharp bend in it. he holds onto Newts shoulder, takes a breath and says, “y/n, I think it might be broken”

Newt rises to his feet and sprints off towards the wood, stumbling more than usual. Gally looks sniffly after him, muttering darkly.

you look confused at Minho and he sighs, “has Newt never told you how he broke his leg”

you shake your head.

“It was in an accident,” he stresses that word, “similar to yours.” you can tell he is deliberately keeping something out of the story but don’t press him.

“Do I need to see a medjack”

“Their dealing with Ben at the moment and I doubt there is much a medjack can do for you, it’s not bleeding, and we can’t heal it, all I can do is straighten it”

“I saw them do it to Newt’s leg.” he adds at your skeptical look.

after an excruciating few moments, Minho lets you go to ‘rest’, but you have other motives. you limp towards the trees looking for, there.

a boy huddles up against a tree, shaking, either with sobs or shock. you limp closer, calling out his name.

his head jerks towards you and as soon as he notices your ankle, and you limping he rushes towards you, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s my fault, it’s all my fault”

“What are you talking about”

“I said I’d protect you, I promised. I never wanted anyone else, not even Gally, to end up like me.”

you hold his cheeks in your hands, tears streaming down his face and sobs shaking his body. looking into his watery eyes you say, “Newt, I love you how you are, you’re the strongest one of all of us, why would I care if I end up like you”

he opens his mouth to reply but before he can, you pull him into you pressing your lips against his.

you finally break apart and look at him, “understand me?”

“Yeah” he answers quietly.

“Good.”

you pull him back into you, with him kissing you back this time, putting your arms around his neck and him holding your waist. you spin on the spot.

“I love you, you know, I really do”

you smile against his lips, “I know”

Can’t sleep?

Can’t sleep? (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 511 words

Warnings: cuddling, this contains descriptions of a condition (insomnia) that I’m definitely not educated in so if I get any facts wrong please let me know.

Summary: you struggle to fall asleep but you know just who to go to.

(Note: this was requested by Anonymous so I hope they and everyone else like it)

(Also sorry this took ages to post, I’ve been making some clay sculptures recently)

you jerk awake for the third time that night. you grumble and turn over. after a couple of seconds you realise there’s no way you are going to get to sleep.

you sigh in frustration and decide to get some fresh air. pushing open your door, you step out of the hut and take a deep breath of cold night air.

standing there, watching the clouds drift slowly across the moon, you look around at the dark huts. there is no movement around the glade, most of the gladers, no doubt, being asleep.

you sit down and put your chin on your knees, watching the wind ripple the grass. you know you need to sleep, but you won’t sleep back in the hammock you had just left.

getting to your feet you start walking along, between the huts.

strolling between the wooden huts you creep past open door where gentle snoring is drifting out into the night.

your eyes fall on a dark hut, slightly apart from the rest. you move towards it, waiting on the threshold for a couple seconds before pushing open the door.

heavy breathing sounds from a dark corner of the room. you take a moment to let your eyes adjust to the dark.

when it does, you see the shadow of a boy, curled in a hammock with his back to the door.

you walk over to it and shake the boy laying in it, whispering as you do, “Newt.”

the slumped shade groans. you shake him again, “Newt.” the boy lifts his head, squinting at you through bleary eyes.

“Tommy?”

“No it’s me”

“Y/n.” he brushes tangled hair out of his eyes and rubs them, “what are you doing here, shouldn’t you be sleeping”

“I can’t”

he smiles at you, pretending to be reluctant though you can tell he less than minds. “Fine.” he pats the hammock beside him and you grin, sitting down next to him. dropping back onto his side, you lay down beside him and he wraps his arms protectively around you, stroking your hair soothingly.

he whispers words into your ear, and you feel your eyelids go heavy, faster than you know they would if you were back in your own hut.

Newt yawns hugely but doesn’t shut his eyes until he hears your breathing steady.

sunlight creates a red glow on your eyelids and you blink open your eyes. Newt is already awake, moving around. he smiles at you when he sees your eyes open, watching him.

“How did you sleep”

you yawn. “No matter how well I sleep I’ll be tired”

he moves to sit next to you. “Do you want to go back to sleep.”

“Minho won’t let me skip running”

Newt waves an airy hand, “I’ll handle Minho. you’re obviously exhausted.”

you nod and curl up, Newt’s sweet, earthy smell still prominent in the hammock.

he lets you hold onto his hand as he speaks quiet compliments to you.

you sigh slightly, close your eyes and drift along with the wave of sleep than washes over you.

Too Scared to Sleep

Too Scared to Sleep (Thomas x Minho)

Word Count: 1178 words

Warnings: SPOILERS, GORE, BLOOD!! hallucinations, kissing, cuddling

Summary: Since they reached the safe haven without Chuck, Teresa and Newt, Minho and Thomas haven’t been able to sleep.

(Alright, clearing up some stuff, I know nobody asked for this, but I read a request from @minewtiscute wrong, my brain thinking I remembered it was Minho x Thomas when it was Minho x Newt. I spent 5 hours on this, and only just realised. so after clearing up the fact I can’t read, please enjoy a fanfic that nobody asked for. I’m sorry to @minewtiscute and I will be doing your request next!)

(Also if nobody enjoys this, I’ll replace it with the new one!)

Thomas’ eyes snap open and he jerks into sitting position. the sky outside the window is dark, and the boy is in no way surprised.

it wasn’t like it was unusual for him to wake several times in the night.

yes, they might have made it to the safe haven, but no matter how safe they were it wouldn’t stop the nightmares.

it wouldn’t stop cranks looming from the shadows, inhuman screams issuing from the air itself, or ghostly, hollow eyed versions of his dead friends, shouting accusations at him for their deaths.

Teresa, with crushed limbs, torn, bloodied clothes and the grey powder of rock tinging her black hair. Chuck, with wide gaping eyes and mouth, a patch of scarlet on his chest, spilling all over his shirt. Newt, with black veins climbing his body, large oversized pupils, and a bloody mass staining the side of his head and splattering his hair. all blaming him for their passing.

and to tell the truth, he believed them. no matter what Minho and the others said, he can’t help thinking, if he had pushed Chuck out of the way, if he had noticed the rubble so Teresa wouldn’t have had to save him, if he hadn’t pulled the trigger that ended Newt’s life.

whenever he confided this to Minho he would tell him he couldn’t possibly have known that the bullet or rubble were coming, that if he hadn’t killed his friend, then the boy would have found a way to do it himself.

Thomas looks over to Minho now. he lays curled in the bed they shared, a slight crease on his forehead, and frown on his face. no doubt he was reliving horrifying scenes as well.

his eyes are squeezed shut and he keeps tossing and turning, groaning quietly and drawing his knees closer to his chin.

Thomas shifts closer to the boy and gently touches his shoulder, shaking him from whatever foul visions he was experiencing.

his dark eyes open, at first looking confused and slightly scared.

“Thomas,” he pushes himself into a sitting position, “are you alright?”

“I don’t think either of us are alright, especially not you. you looked like you were being tortured in your sleep.”

“Speak for yourself. have you gotten any sleep at all tonight?”

“yes.”

it was true, Thomas had slept that night, maybe an hour or so, which was significantly good for him, yet that did not make him feel any less drained.

the nightmares wouldn’t let any of you sleep. the screams, the visions. it was one of the reasons that the two boys had decided to share a bed.

they were still terrible yes, but much easier to manage when there was someone else with them. knowing they’re not alone.

the two sit in silence, both thinking. both too scared to sleep.

fingers intertwine themselves with Thomas’ and he looks down to see Minho, not looking at him, gripping his hand. the boy squeezes and Thomas’ squeezes back.

still not saying anything to each other, they shift closer together, shoulders brushing, leaning on the bedframe. Thomas leans his head on the other’s shoulder, his dark hair tickling Minho’s neck.

Minho rests his own head on the boy’s head, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm around him.

he lets out a low sigh that rustles Thomas’ hair and closes his eyes. the other boy looks into the darkness, the looming, horrifying face still burned there, yet they did not advance. they crouched, wreathed by shadow, growling and hissing darkly.

yet even those started to fade as Minho presses a gentle kiss to his head and strokes his hand softly with his thumb.

Thomas closed his eyes, feeling sleep tugging at his mind. he does not resist, but instead lets it pull him under.

his dreams are filled with his lost friends, but they are not hollow eyed, or grotesquely disfigured.

no, he was in a lush field with forests around it, a blue sky above him. flowers dotted the long grass and birds chirped from the leaves of the trees.

his three friends sit together, beckoning and smiling at him. he joins them and sits in the sun. they talk to him and he talks back, telling them about the safe haven. about how Frypan insisted feeding them all huge plates of food for every meal. how Minho and Brenda could always be found, challenging each other to arm wrestles. how everyone missed them.

by the time he reaches this topic, Thomas cannot stop himself from saying the thing he had wanted to say since they had died.

“Listen, I’m sorry you died, it’s my fault, I know.” he looks at his hands, twisted in his lap.

a hand rests on his shoulder and he looks into the dark eyes and freckled face of Newt. “Hey.” he gives him a small smile, “it’s not your fault, you did what you could.”

“I failed you guys.”

Chuck’s slightly pudgy hand pats the brunet’s cold, intertwined ones, “you didn’t fail us, you were the reason we got this far.”

“Chuck’s right.” Teresa’s blue eyes meet his, “if it weren’t for you, we would probably all still be stuck in that shucked maze.”

“At least we would have been safe.”

“Safe,” Newt laughs softly, “safe isn’t the way to live a life. danger is what makes life interesting, it’s what makes life worth living. if you were safe all the time, what kind of life would that be.”

“a pretty boring one.” Thomas gives one of the first smiles he had in a while.

“Exactly.” Teresa pats his arm, “don’t beat yourself up Tom.”

“Yeah, we’re alright, at least we’re not alone, right?”

Thomas looks at all of their smiling faces and feels his heart lift a little. then they all suddenly look at the sky, as though a sound had issued from it. they look back at him, small smiles on their faces.

“I think it’s time for you to go Tommy.” Newt tells him softly.

the four of them stand, a cool breeze rustling their hair and hitting their faces. Chuck moves forwards and he hugs first him, then Teresa and then finally Newt.

he faces the three of them and opens his mouth to ask.

“We’ve already talked to Minho.” Teresa says as though she knew what he were about to say.

Thomas nods,

“Goodbye, Chuck, Teresa, Newt.”

“Goodbye,” the three of their words mingle together,

“Tom.”

“Thomas.”

“Tommy.”

he raises a hand in farewell and the last thing he sees before being pulled back to reality, his three friends, all smiling and waving at him, hair rustling in the breeze and faces illuminated in golden light.

Thomas opens his eyes, feeling something brushing his hair rhythmically. he looks up to see Minho, smiling softly down at him and stroking his hair.

the boy snuggles further into his arms, closing his eyes against the dawn light filtering into the room. he lets out a happy sigh, feeling calm and content for the first time since, well, forever.

I love this so much, can’t wait for the next chapter, amazing writing, this is literally one of my favourite fanfics I’ve ever read!

for those who saw this post and were interested:

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS UP!!!

I actually believe this is going to be a fun fic to write and I might finish it pretty fast, we’ll see

the chapters (6 in total i’m guessing) will probably be 3k long or so just like this one, I hope y’all like it :)

and guys don’t worry I KNOW it doesn’t relate much to the song just yet but trust me it will,,

Banished

Banished (Newt x Reader) (what a surprise)

Word Count: 862 words

Warnings: I guess mild violence

Summary: you are banished (why? idk I was too lazy to think of a reason, so feel free to come up with your own)

your breath is ragged and rasping as you are dragged towards the circle of boys. ropes bind your wrists, cutting into your skin. Minho holds tight to the twine, keeping your arms stuck behind the back of your head.

you twist around to look at the boy, he keeps his eyes away from yours, looking like he doesn’t know who you are. though this was the common practice when someone was stung. when someone was banished.

“Minho.” you say in a quiet voice, “Minho you don’t understand,”

you know there is no point trying to dissuade any of them but you were, in truth, desperate. there was nothing that awaited you out there but a lonely, long, painful death.

Minho doesn’t answer or look at you, he keeps his eyes fixed forwards as he walks towards the circle.

as you draw nearer, a somber silence presses in on you, the keepers and glader’s faces are filled with either, hostility, a numb stare, or pity.

yet your eyes seek only one. you spot him, as expected, next to the other keepers, knuckles white on the long stick he held and looking just about ready to crumble into a pile of dust right there and then.

Minho drags you into the middle of the circle and pushes you onto your knees, holding your arms above your head and putting the knife up to it.

he cuts the rope and you fall forwards onto the ground. you watch Minho’s boots move in front of you and here a thump as he throws a bag of stuff that you all know won’t do anything to stop a griever eating anyone.

though it was customary. banishing was not exactly enjoyable experience, and if they had to sentence a child to death they at least wanted to try and help them.

if you were stung you were not sent to death. no, you were sent away to protect the others. and you were sure, if your mind were working properly, you would oblige if it meant keeping the others safe.

however, no such same thoughts occurred to you as the deafening sound of the door closing echoes around the entire glade. feeling your already broken mind break even more, you here Ably’s shout above the sound.

“Hold!” the keepers lower their staffs and point them at you, the gladers doing the same with long pointed sticks. there was no way out.

“No, no please.” your son is lost in the shaking wind and rattling of the doors. you get shakily to your feet, looking around at all of the gladers. the people who you thought were your friends.

no, no they were your friends, that small, still sane part of you pipes up, they were trying to protect the others.

“Move in!” Alby’s second shout breaks your train of thought. the keepers start advancing on you, herding you towards the steadily closing doors. you back away looking at the faces of the keepers.

Zart…Frypan, looking like he was attending a funeral…Alby…Gally, whose face was filled with hostility…Winston…and then the boy you most wanted to see.

Newt looked as though he was about to faint, unlike the other he had not made the move yet to close in on you, Alby nudges him and he starts moving forwards, looking as he did so that he regretted every step.

you are right in between the wall, between the glade and the maze. your eyes lock onto Newt’s who dark insides looked both sick with terror and wet with tears.

“Newt.” you say quietly, yet you are sure everybody can hear you, “Newt please. please.” tears run down your face.

your plea gets more desperate as you are shoved further into the maze, “Please!”

you are in the maze now, and the keepers are drawing their staffs back into the glade, watching you gravely.

Newt looks to be fighting some painful internal struggle. only about a metre is left between the two walls.

you look, terrified, at the gladers as the gap closes. a shout rises from the crowd as do several protests. Newt breaks free of the group and sprints towards you.

Alby dives for him and tackles him to the ground, pulling his arms behind his back and trying to stop him from running at you.

“Get off me!” Newt’s shout is lost in the cries of surprise and gasps from the crowd, as he writhes desperately, kicking his friend hard in the leg.

Alby lets go of him, gasping in surprise and pain. Newt sprints towards you again, ignoring the many outcries of, “Newt!”, “stop!”, “she’s not worth it!”

wasn’t that hard to identify who the last voice belonged to. he slams into you, hugging you tightly before turning to look back at the shocked faces, some still trying to figure out what had just happened.

the last thing you see is Thomas, Minho and Alby looked sadly at the two of you, before the large doors slam shut, and you’re lost in the dark.

the two of you stand in the dark, arms wrapped around each other, breathing heavily and taking in what had just happened.

(Preparing some Newtmas fanfics, exciting)