The Angel ~ Newt X Reader

Gally's Drink

"How long have they been looking?"

The bonfire went on as usual. I came late because I had to finish up work with Clint and Jeff. The three of us walked through the dark glade, the only light being the moon and the abnormally large fire. 

The temperature never changed in the glade and I longed for more than the same stagnant normal weather. Rain, more clouds, heat, snow. Something. The closest thing we got to summer was the radiated heat of the fire.

Clint and Jeff split off to go with their closer friends leaving me to search for Newt or Minho. I found Minho sitting alone, brooding so I decided not best to interrupt. Then I saw the outline of Newts head behind one of the log bench things. 

I walked up and heard the greenie coughing and spitting something out while Newt laughed and said.

"I don't even know, it's Gallys recipe. It's a trade secret." He turned around and our eyes met, butterfly's flew around my stomach. Newt's lips formed into a cheeky smile as he waved me over. I sat down and the greenie spoke again.

"Yeah, well he's still an asshole."

"He saved your life today." I sad as Newt wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. I leaned a head on my shoulder and stared at the concrete walls lit only by the light of the flickering fire. 

"Trust me," Newt said. "The maze is a dangerous place." Flashbacks to the time he spoke about the tall ivy and the morning sun filled my head. Then the picture I created in my mind of him jumping off. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping the image would go away, and eventually it did. 

Newt took a sip of Gally's drink before handing me the awful liquid. Still, I drank a couple sips of the murky drink. 

"We're trapped here, aren't we." The greenie says finally coming to his senses. Once again, memories of conversations Newt and I had filled my mind. This time it wasn't so bad. It was about the time we talked about our dreams. The ones of getting out of here and leaving. 

Newt's jaw clenched at the question. "For the moment." I knew he hated thinking about never leaving. We had to. We had to get out of here. Newt looked down at me and kissed the top of m head before shifting his weight. I lifted my head off his shoulder and turned where he was turning.

"But... see those guys? There, by the fire?" He pointed across the flames to the group of runners. Where Minho was still brooding except this time he had a plate of food. Didn't know Minho had a serious side. "Those are the runners and that guy in the middle there, that's Minho."

"He's the keeper of the runners." I continued on to Newt. 

"Now, every morning when those doors open, they run the maze, mapping it." Newts turn to talk.

"Memorizing it, trying to find a way out." I finish. The new kid's eyes revealed with the information. I could tell he was upset that people kept telling him half-truth or avoiding his question altogether. It was good for him to finally get some answers. 

"How long have they been looking?" The question comes out as scared but I doubt he was. Newt purses his lips at the question.

"Three years." He says numbly. I wanted to say 'oh yeah! We just started this week!' but that was a lie. No matter how much I wanted it to be true. 

"And they haven't found anything?" Well, he sure does have a lot of hope, doesn't he?

Newt laughs nervously so I answer for him. "It's a lot easier said than done." The rumbling continues through the maze. I didn't really know what it meant. I've never been inside of the maze and part of me never wants to unless they get rid of those shuck grievers.

"Listen," Newt interrupts pointing up to the sky but I knew he meant the noise. "Hear that? That's the maze changing. It changes every night."

"How is that even possible." The one question we all want to know. Why. How. What.

"You can ask the people who put us in here." I scoff. I hated the people who put us here. I've never met them, don't even know them. But if they put us, kids, in a giant box surrounded by a maze with creatures bred out of blood lust chasing after us... yeah. I'm going to hate them. And nothing, absolutely nothing can change that. "If you ever meet the bastards."

"Listen, the truth is the runners are the only ones that really know what's out there. They're the strongest and fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too, because if they don't make it back before those doors close, then they're stuck out there for the night." Newt says pointed a finger at the doors. 

"And no ones ever survived a night in the maze," I repeat the lesson we've all been taught here. A couple of months ago a boy got stuck out there for the first time. Now there's a line through his name. It still haunts me. 

"What happens to them." By now I want to yell at him for asking all these horrible questions. But I keep it together.

Newt swallows another sip of the drink. "Well, we call them grievers." Even the name sends a sick chill down my spine. I've never seen one in person and never want to. Their evil things from what I've heard. 

"Of course no ones ever... seen one and lived to tell about it." Except for Minho. But even he refuses to talk about it. "But they're out there."

The silence becomes awkward and I don't like awkward situations they make me feel weird. "Right, well." I clap my hands together and stand up. "That's enough questions for one night. Come one." Newt follows my lead and gets up.

"Listen, you're supposed to be the guest of honor." He says fluid. I let out a laugh and take Gally's drink out of his hand before he becomes really drunk.

"Oh, well, no... no..." Greenie starts to protest. 

"No!" Newt insists. "No, no, come on. Let us show you around." The greenie still protests but it does him no good as Newt pulls him to his feet. 

The three of us walk around the bonfire as Newt introduces Thomas to everyone. 

"Over there, we've got the builders." Newt points. "Very good with their hands but not a lot going upstairs." He turns back around and points to where the slicers were. "And then we got Winston. He's the keeper of the slicers." You can hear Winston talking and laughing with his friends. Winston was always nice and he came in almost every day to help a cut not get infected. "Then we got three medjacks. Clint and Jeff." He points at them and they say hey. "And Y/N," His hand squeezes around mine and pushes me a little. 

"We spend most of our time bandaging up the slicers," I say with a laugh but my smile faults at the thing that comes out of the greenies mouth.

"What if I want to be a runner?"