The Maze Runner Imagines

Frypan [3]

 "Bloody hell, Fry. Relax." Newt tried to console the cook. Frankly it was taking all of his energy to not just walk away from this situation. It was just one more thing on top of an already ungodly large pile of mishaps.

Frypan huffed. "Someones' been steaming the food and I know it." He lift up a box of vegetables and held it under Newt's nose. "And if you asked me, I'd be able to tell you exactly who's been sneaking extra rations."

Newt pinched the bride of his nose and sighed. "Minho?" He guessed.

Fry raised his arms in the air as if to thank some omnipotent being for making Newt clue in. "Obviously. Shanks always up to something. Why not stealing food, too?"

Exhausted and not exactly wanting to go on a man hunt across the Glade to just accuse Minho of food theft, Newt told himself he'd deal with it later. Or, maybe, it'd all just pass in a day or two and he wouldn't have to deal with it at all. "Okay, well, we'll keep an eye on it alright? It's only a couple carrots here and there, I'm sure it's fine."

"Just a couple of carrots—" Frypan muttered to himself in frustration as Newt sauntered off on his other bits of evening business. "I guess I'll figure it out myself."

Frypan loved sleep. He loved it a lot. But he loved cooking more. And tonight, he was willing to sacrifice his peace and quiet in the hammock to finally reprimand the food thief. Setting himself up a haphazard seat in the dark outside of the kitchens was less than comfortable. Of all the ways to spend his night, this really was one of the worst ways he could imagine.

But his patience would pay. He knew it would. When he finally heart footsteps and someone mucking around inside, his heart started beating in his throat. All he had to do was jump out, scare them shitless, and they'd never come back. It sounded fun. But then again...what if it really was Minho? He'd just kick Frypan in the teeth out of reflex and then sit there laughing while stealing more food. Maybe, scaring this person was a bad idea.

So, Frypan decided to first try and get a look. Once he knew who it was, then he'd decide his course of action. When he did realize who it was, he cursed himself. Why of all people was it her? Why did it have to be Y/N? He held such a high onion of her...just for her to turn out to be his enemy. What cruelty the world was showing him.

It wasn't until Y/N was running off into the dark that Frypan snapped back to reality and realized he had to chase after him. Running wasn't exactly his favourite thing in the world, but in pursuit of his stolen vegetables, he was a force to be reckoned with.

For a moment, he seemed to have lost track of her. Like honestly, she'd cut straight across the glade. Where was she going? Then, he caught a glimpse of her frame slowing to a jog as she went for the slicers. The slicers? Did she really need that big of a knife to cut vegetables? Or was this just getting creepy? Was he dreaming? Maybe.

A small light suddenly emit from the slicers hut and the girl came outside with a lantern. She walked a few paces closer to the deadheads and then sat down in the grass, making some small calls into the darkness.

Frypan feared the worst. She'd made friends with the grievers. Listen, Frypan wouldn't put it past her to befriend anyone or anything, but making friends with the grievers seemed like a really bad idea.

As he got closer, he finally understood what was going on. The one sheep here in the glade came sleepily, yet happily, stumbling through the grass toward Y/N. And there the food went, right into the mouth of the sheep, never to be seen again. Well, not seen in a form Frypan could cook, ever again.

This sheep was like the Glade's one pet they could afford to keep. It gave them wool, which was extremely helpful considering they could make bandages out of it. Which, was pretty useful considering the med-jacks were always running out. It was a little neglected and Y/N seemed to pay attention to that. Frypan almost felt himself softening up.

No. He was still mad. "You've been giving my food...to the sheep." He huffed as he suddenly popped up behind Y/N, standing tall with his arms crossed.

He tried to sneak up on her and tried to look scary, but Fry had the opposite effect on Y/N. She'd heard him a mile away, had seen him, and though he stood tall, he wasn't intimidating to her. She knew him too well.

"Well, she is a Glader and she's here to stay." Y/N shrugged. "Besides, she's basically a medjack. Aside from Clint and Jeff, I work with her almost on the daily. She deserves a little credit."

Frypan couldn't help but find himself sitting beside Y/N in the cool grass. "The sheep is a medjack. Right."

Y/N gently nudged his arm. "C'mon, Fry. Say hello." She placed a carrot in his hand and nod to the sheep.

She had his mind changed the second she'd nudged him. He couldn't stay mad. Especially at Y/N. Besides, her little trips seemed justified. No Glader deserved to be neglected, especially when it came to food. And, he figured, the sheep was probably good company for Y/N after having to work with Clint and Jeff all day in the tiny med-jack hut.

"Alight, fine. You're cute." Frypan gave in. He'd always had a soft spot for one of the friendliest Gladers. No, he wasn't talking about the sheep. But maybe there was a soft spot growing there, too.

"Right?" Y/N wrapped her arms around the sheep and gave it a good pet. "Winston won't let me name her...but between you and me? What should we call her?"

Frypan chuckled to himself. Yeah, maybe his comment didn't exactly register in her mind, but that was okay. Another time would come.

"I call her banned from the kitchens."

"Fry," She smacked him playfully. But then her expression fell quickly. "Wait, me or the sheep?"

"Both of you."