The Maze Runner Imagines

Minho [32]

 Y/N was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. There wasn't a part of her that didn't ache nor a fibre of her being that wasn't strained by the anxiety which the previous day had brought.

Things had been going alright, just like they usually did. The day started with dawn breaking over the maze walls and a cold nose while Minho tried to playfully dump Y/N out of her hammock. The pair travelled barefoot through the dewey grass, passing the kitchen and grabbing their breakfasts and lunches. Then, they slowly meandered over to the maproom to gather their supplies.

It was so calm. As the days went on, the longer Y/N was a runner and got to spend one-on-one time with Minho, the more she got to see the real him. The real Minho was one she was truly beginning to care for. He could actually be funny, he was kind, thoughtful and at times, intimidatingly bright.

There was nothing in the air. No gut feeling that told Y/N this day was going to end in the way she always feared deep down. There were no warning signs, absolutely nothing. Maybe the universe had tried to call out to her in subtle ways but she'd been blinded by Minho. Perhaps his warming presence caused her to forget the world could play cruel tricks, especially here in the maze.

Taking off into the maze, making it to their lunch spot and enjoying the quiet, the day had been great. The pair had a lot of good days in the maze together, but this day, something seemed different. They were happy and comfortable, seemingly both in the same headspace. Together, they worked flawlessly, yet at the same time kept one another in check.

After lunch, when the clouds rolled overhead, when the wind started howling and when the rain fell, everything changed.

"C'mon," Minho gently wrapped his fingers around Y/N's wrist as she scrambled to jot some notes down. "We gotta get going."

Y/N looked to him, confused. It wasn't normally like Minho to be so spooked by some weather. Sure, they'd had some bad days in the maze with lightning storms and torrenting rain. This, though? It was basically nothing. They weren't going to have any trouble finding their way back. "Everything okay?"

"I uh—" Minho frantically looked around, as if searching for something. He took the wrist he held in his hand and led it to the ground, placing both of their palms against the stone floor. "Feel that? Something isn't right."

Y/N tilt her head and focused. Minho was right. There was a slight rumble, hardly noticeable, but not insubstantial enough to pass by Minho. "That's not good."

"No." Minho shot up, his legs already filling with adrenaline. He tightened his pack and looked to Y/N with forbidding eyes. It wasn't often his true feelings showed through, but when they did, his eyes always showed it. "The maze is changing somewhere beneath us."

"Then we need to get back to the glade," Y/N took off, Minho following right behind.

This wasn't the normal changing of the maze. They had no idea what was going to happen. That variable of the unknown was what scared both of the runners. Grievers were predictable. The maze changing was routine. The weather was something they could navigate through. A rumble beneath them with no explainable source or any previous experience to rely on wasn't something they could control.

Minho cursed himself silently. This had to be all his fault. He'd gotten sloppy, reckless, making stupid decisions. No, he wasn't getting lazy with the maze. He was getting careless with the more mundane things that didn't seem to pose a threat. He always warned the others in the Glade about keeping their mouths shut just incase whoever put them here was listening. He didn't trust the beetle blades nor anything about where they lived.

He'd made his biggest mistake a couple of nights ago and he knew that now. At the bonfire, he'd confide in Newt about Y/N. He'd said things he never should have, that if overheard, exposed him for his greatest weakness to the people who put them here. He'd foolishly told Newt he loved her. Like the idiot he now saw himself as, he'd muttered something in his tired state about never being able to find a way out of the maze if anything ever happened to Y/N.