What if? (NewtXReader)

Chapter 4-Newt

"Fine" I sighed at (Y/N)'s request to follow me into the maze.

She already knew what to do as well as the risks. I'd explained it to her enough times.  

I didn't need a degree in psychology to know she was elated. Excitement radiated from her in waves. In her eyes I could see mystery, longing, and just a pinch of worry.

Her eyes would light up as I went into details about the elusive maze. Why does she have such a desire to be a runner? Something's not right with this picture.

I pushed down the feeling and made my way into the maze, (Y/N) in tow.

We made idle chitchat as we raced through the maze, thankfully avoiding greivers. I had to admit, she did seem pretty fit for the job.

About the middle of the day, we stopped and took a rest more her benefit than mine. Gosh, she would kill me for saying that.

The "sun" beat down on our backs, turning the glade into one of those days that are so hot and sticky all you want to do is like in the shade with ice pressed against your body.

"Can you believe how hot it is?" She turned and gave me one of those cute half smiles while dragging a sun-beaten hand across her sweating forehead.

"Imagine the tan that will make my body even more irresistible," I feigned fangirl fainting.

The slight, tinkling laugh brought a welcome distraction from the heat.

"Its never been this bloody hot. Never," I murmured mostly to myself.

While I puzzled over the mystery, (Y/N) fiddled with a loose thread, the sun shining off her hair like a halo. I felt my facile muscles ease into a smile. (Y/N) was so easy to be around. I suspected that before I was put into this hell that I never had much luck with the ladies- but it's just a hunch.

"Ready to head back?" She questioned, breaking the silence I realized we had both spent thinking.

"Let's go," I somehow found my voice.

The way her hair whipped gracefully in the wind like the laws of physics didn't apply to her brought a welcome distraction from the strange happings that I might of accidentally-on-purpose forgot to tell her about.

Like how the faux sun rose later and later every morning. That's never happened before, so we know this isn't a normal occurrence. It doesn't seem like much, but every small change could of set a chain of events leading to something involving W.I.C.K.E.D. And if it involves those shuck faces, leave me out of it.

What little animals we keep have been going mental. Instead of peacefully standing around or awaiting their next meal, they bleat like crazy and run in circles with a crazed look in their eyes.

(Y/N), for some obscure reason, starts rifling through her pant pockets that she's worn since her first day in the Glade. She's refused to give them up to the wash, as if she'll find answers hidden in the fabric.

"What the shuck is this?" Her face contortes in confusion as a folded note is removed from the depths of a pocket.

If it's possible, she looks even more confused as her eyes skim or the crumpled paper. She opens her mouth to comment, but the piercing screech of a griever slices through the silence.

I curse, knowing our luck was too good to hold.

"Time to go!" I grab her smooth hand and run. 

the clicking and clanking mixed with a wet, ooze of a sound that can only be grievers follow our twists and turns through the elusive maze, slowly but surely gaining on us. 

I guess you could say I'm not a exactly a faith filled individual, but I've had my fair share of thoughts as to if their is a higher being than ourselves. But in that moment, I prayed so hard you would've thought I was a cradle born believer. 

As we ran throughout my reacounted directions through the twists and turns, my mind somehow despite our pressing situation turned to what the bloody hell was on that crumpled bit of paper that made (Y/N) go white as a sheet. 

My mind soon turned to other things. 

Maybe it was a loose piece of the maze finally coming apart or a twist of dirt or even a vine felled in her path. Either way, she went down just by the door, straight into the waiting arm-tentacle-things of the grievers. 

"No!" The single word that left my chapped lips couldn't describe the panic and turmoil wreaking havoc in my chest. 

Desperately, I looked around my person for something, anything to fend off the mutilationous greivers. finally, my hand closed around the blade of the wicked sharp meschede knife carried for times such as these. 

Without wasting anymore precious time, I brandished the blade, prepared to fight. 

But without so much as a look  in my direction, the greivers suddenly shrieked as if their brains were on fire, then dissipated as quickly as the had come in the opposite direction. 

Leaving me standing there to wonder  what the shuck was up with his place.   

(Y/N) lay crumpled like a piece of paper, unconscious, on the ground. Her hair was knotted, arms gashed and bleeding, and no doubt multiple stings peppered her body. I picked her up gently bridle style. No response. The way her head hung back and arms and legs moved like noodles made me cringe. I shifted so her neck was supported. 

Quickly and hopefully stealthy, I wove my way through the last turn of the maze to face the crowd gathered at the door. 

Explanations we're unneeded, as everyone knew the only predators in the maze were greivers. 

I was reluctant to hand (Y/N) over to the medjacks even though I knew she'd be in better care with them than me. 

Amidst the dull earth tones of the ground, I spied a flash of white. I didn't want to pick it up, but my fingers developed minds of their own, reaching for the paper. 

Curiosity got the better of the Newt cat and unfolded it meticulously. 

In measured, professional script it stated: SHE'S THE LAST ONE. EVER.