Teen Wolf/Maze Runner fanfiction

Chapter 2

After they finished eating, Chuck gave them a brief explanation of the areas of the Glade. He said all the details and rules were left to Alby, who would probably show them around the next day. Chuck showed them to the big, open area where sleeping places were being rolled out, packed tightly together.

“The Homestead is too small for all of us to sleep in,” Chuck explained, nodding towards the big wooden building. “So we all sleep outside. It ain't bad, though. Know we're safe, when the Doors close.” As if delighted at the mention, a gigantic rumbling sound began, and Stiles thought he could feel it shake the whole Glade. He turned around in awe, observing each Door close simultaneously.     Suddenly, Scott dropped to his knees, his hands over his ears, his eyes shut tight in pain. Even when the noise stopped, he kneeled there, as if recovering.

“Scott?” Chuck got down next to Scott to make sure he was all right. “Come on, Scott, you gotta at least get through First Day. It was just the Doors –”

“I'm fine.” Scott had said it so quietly, it was a question if he really said it or not. He let his hands drop to his sides and shook his head. “We have to get out of here...”

“What do you think everyone's been tryin' to do for the past two years?” Chuck had a tinge of annoyance in his voice, but Scott seemed to ignore it. Without saying another word, he got into his sleeping spot and fell asleep.

“He's shuckin' messed up,” Chuck muttered. He, too, got inside his sleeping spot, and Stiles did the same. Stiles found he couldn't sleep. He'd kept his calm pretty well all day, but he was genuinely scared, confused, and had a million questions darting back and forth in his mind. It was comforting to know he had somebody to talk to, Chuck and Scott. For some reason, he felt like he'd become closer friends with Scott than with Chuck.

He rolled over and stared up at the sky, catching sight of the moon over the middle of the Glade, stars filling the dark night sky. He thought about Scott – about what he'd been telling him earlier, about his senses, and Stiles knew right then that he believed Scott one hundred percent. The Doors closing had been loud, but not loud enough to make you have a panic attack. Not unless they were louder for one specific person.

 

 Stiles was woken up the next morning by a hand on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open and revealed Scott staring back down at him.

“Wh –?” Scott placed a hand over his mouth.

“Newt's gotta show us something. We can't wake anyone up,” he whispered. Stiles nodded as best he could with Scott's hand pushing his head down. He scrambled to his feet and noticed Newt standing behind Scott.

“Follow me,” Newt ordered, and began running towards the one of the Walls. Scott and Stiles hesitated, but then ran after him, being careful not to step on anyone as they left the sleeping area.

Newt stopped at the Wall where there was a dirty window.

“C'mere, Greenies,” Newt called. “Thought I'd show ya somethin' before Alby takes ya on the Tour.” Confused yet interested, Stiles went to look through the window. Scott stayed behind him, but looked out, too.

“What are we looking for?” Stiles asked.

“Just wait a few minutes. You'll see,” was Newt's only answer. Stiles waited at the window, bored out of his mind. Were they just testing to see how gullible they were? What would sitting at a window do?

 Then Scott heard something: a metallic, scratching, squishing sound that had a slight echo to it; a terrible moan, one that you'd hear in a horror film. And then, whatever was making the horrible, frightening noise was revealed, pushing it's way around a corner. Colorful lights emitted from it's oozing, slimy skin, bouncing off the walls.

“What the heck is that?” Scott asked, echoing Stiles's thoughts.

“It's a buggin' Griever. Ain't nothing worse than a sting from one of these fellas. Cause the Changing.”     He paused. “Always come out at night in the Maze. They'll kill ya if they can, vicious buggers. If you get away with a sting, though, you go through the Changing, like poor Ben.” His gaze flickered to the Homestead.

“The Changing? What's that?” Stiles asked, but Newt didn't answer. All of a sudden, the Griever threw itself at the window, like it wanted to break through to get to the human flesh on the other side.   Scott and Stiles fell back, screaming, and then recovered, embarrassed.

“Nasty things, aren't they? This is why the Number One Rule must be followed: Nobody goes out into the Maze. Not unless you're a Runner. Good that?”

 Again, that weird use of the words 'good' and 'that'.

“Good that,” Stiles and Scott agreed, clearly shaken.

“Oh, c'mon! You klunked your pants over that, didn't ya? There's a window, it wasn't gonna hurt ya.”

 Then Newt walked away, saying something about checking on Ben. This left Scott and Stiles alone, which is what Stiles had wanted.

“You heard that before I did, right?” Scott looked at him, confused, but then nodded.

“Oh – yeah.” Then he groaned. “They're all gonna think I'm some kind of freak because of last night.     It felt like somebody was crushing the stupid sound into my skull, like I'd never get away from it – I really snapped, huh?”

“No, I think there's something different about you.” Stiles paused, thinking he knew Scott from somewhere. But he knew he couldn't have, because he had never known who he was before.

“Scott, do I seem... familiar, to you?” The words had left his mouth before he could consider. Scott studied him for a moment.

“Well, kind of. I've never seen you before, but I feel like I have. Do you think we knew each other before... coming here?”

“That's what I was thinking. But maybe we should keep it to ourselves. They'll think we really lost it.” Scott shrugged.

“I'd still like to get to... re-know each other, though. Maybe we'll be able to remember our past friendship at some point,” he suggested, and Stiles couldn't help but feel a spurt of happiness shoot through him at the mention of remembering.

 

“Greenie one and two!” Alby's voice reached them, interrupting their conversation, and soon he was with them. “Time for the Tour.” He paused. “No questions until the end is the only rule for this. You have no idea how annoying it is when you ask questions.”

“All right,” Stiles agreed, and Scott nodded. Stiles was a lot more hyper than Scott, that was for sure.

 Alby started by showing them the Deadheads, the forest area. They didn't actually go in the Deadheads, but he told them it was where the cemetery was. Stiles's heart sank at the thought of there being a cemetery. Why did they need a cemetery? How often did people die? It took all his effort not to ask questions.

 Then Alby showed them to each Door. He explained that they opened and closed at the same time each day, and nothing more. He then showed them the Gardens, the Slammer, the slaughter house, the kitchen, and ended at the Homestead.

“That's all you'll need to know for now,” he told them. “Chuck's busy, so you'll just have to keep yourselves occupied; don't let me catch you botherin' any of the Gladers, either!” Alby ran off to the Homestead, presumably to check on Ben, not even giving them a chance to ask questions.