maze runner imagines.

breathe: thomas.

{request for Thomas2921 }
y/n found peace in the whistling of the wind in her ears as she ran throughout the hallways,
looking for somewhere to keep herself hidden while the entirety of wicked's workers searched for her.
every door she passed,
y/n checked the door handle in case it was unlocked.
when she heard the scuffling of feet behind her,
she was sure to have found her end.
wicked had cornered her,
and now she was theirs for the taking.
until by the grace of god,
y/n found an unlocked door perfect for her hiding.
without turning the lights on,
y/n locked the door behind her and stumbled throughout the dark,
feeling boxes and metal edges bang against her shins.
she winced,
but kept her cries quiet in fear of exposing her hiding spot.
finally,
she settled for what she assumed was the corner,
hidden far from the door.
her body was aching with exhaust,
her shins were throbbing from the consistent hits;
she was sure to be covered in bruises when she recovered.
y/n held her breath as the feet of wicked employees stood by the door,
blocking the only shred of light that beamed in the room.
"is it locked?"
"yeah."
"come on, then. she's gotta be around here somewhere."
"for the love of god! how hard can it be to track down a prepubescent teenage girl?!"
y/n attached the voice to the man instantly:
janson had joined the manhunt.
the only way she was making it out alive was to fight.
but she couldn't find the energy to keep her eyes open anymore.
y/n leaned against the wall,
pulled the backpack that never left her possession into her lap,
tucked her knees as close to her chest as possible,
and let the world around her drown out.
***
"is she dead?"
"i think...it doesn't look like she's breathing."
y/n was surfacing into consciousness again.
when she opened her eyes,
shock rippled throughout her at the sight of boys crowding around her.
she cocked her fist back and hit the closest one to her which caused a chain reaction.
everyone spread out,
away from her,
and watched her panicked mind search for answers.
"i'm not going back."
"going back w-where?"
"to wicked! you can't-you can't take me back!"
a boy with black hair stuck to his forehead eased closer to her with his hands out in surrender.
"we're not...we're not with wicked. we just got saved up, too."
y/n felt her body relax at the sound of the boys reassuring voice.
there was some sense of authority there that calmed her.
"saved?"
she asked with a scoff before continuing,
"you're on your deathbed."
"who are you?"
y/n directed her attention to the blonde haired boy with a thick, foreign accent.
"i'm...y/n. who are you?"
"we're gladers, okay? we came just from a maze like you did, with grievers and all. i'm..i'm thomas."
the mention of his name recalled a faint memory from the depths of her brain.
the boys all went around introducing themselves,
leaving y/n to realize the one she'd punched was the one they called frypan.
"i'm so sorry,"
she whispered out,
bringing her hands to her face in embarrassment.
he wiped the blood dripping from his nose then gave her a smile.
"no worries."
she returned the smile as best she could before digging into her bookbag of stolen and salvaged medical supplies and inching closer to him.
frypan eased up as her gentle hands brushed his skin,
then placed the gauze where it would prevent further bleeding.
"it's not broken. just a little blood."
"mm, thank you,"
he mumbled.
y/n stepped back and fell timid to the stares of the boys around her.
"you were a med-jack?"
thomas asked.
y/n knitted her eyebrows then laughed.
"i suppose. hospice, we called it."
"okay, cut the shit. you said wicked. is that where we are right now?"
minho asked,
stepping forward with his arms crossed.
y/n nodded.
"yeah. it's part of their con. save you, make you think you're safe so you let your guard down, then suddenly you're right back in their experimenting little hands. being harvested, being put through mental anguish. you name it."
"how do we know you're not a part of their game?"
y/n straightened a little at the words,
trying to figure out how she could prove her loyalty.
"she's not,"
thomas spoke with confidence in his tone.
"they're going to come back for you. we have to find a way out. now."
y/n began to blink a little quicker as dark spots covered her vision.
she could feel the room beginning to spin beneath her and the numbness of her limbs corrupt her.
"y/n?"
thomas asked,
his voice barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
her legs fell weak beneath her weight.
and she was sure to have given herself a concussion from the impact,
but thomas caught her just in time.
she could hear him demanding the boys around him to help her,
and a faint smile spread across her face as she watched it.
there,
in the set of his lips and the furrowing of his eyebrows,
revealed a memory repressed by wicked's medicine.