The Underground (Minho x Reader)

Where Are We?

 Minho felt something warm on his skin. It wasn't unpleasant. It was more...familiar. Comforting. Groggily, he forced his eyes open slightly, blinking a couple of times. That warm feeling was that of the morning sun. Over his head, leaves rustled in a soft breeze. His body was suspend above the ground in a hammock, one just like that from the Glade. It didn't make sense.

The runner couldn't move his body—something was stopping him. But he could look around and what he saw stunned him. His hammock wasn't just like the one from back in the Glade. In fact, he was in the Glade. He was home.

Feeling started to trickle into his fingers. Once he had enough strength to move his arm, Minho reached for Y/N in the hammock across from his. He tapped her hand, which was draped out of her hammock, a couple of times but it didn't seem to do anything. So, he reached up for her face. Minho weakly attempt to brush the hair away from her eyes. Truthfully, he didn't want to wake her. She looked to be deep in sleep, at peace. Something they rarely ever got in the Glade.

Soon enough, Y/N's eyes opened slightly. She looked at Minho for a brief moment and then lift her own arm, placing her hand on top of Minho's. Something went straight through Minho's chest. It was right now, in this very moment, he was reminded of what Y/N meant to him. Y/N was his person, his partner, the one who'd been at his side through everything. Gazing at his arm, that first initial of her name inked in his skin was still there. It was no doubt anymore that's what the marks in their skin were. It was small, but Minho held it near to his heart.

Minho's view to Y/N was suddenly blocked. Someone knelt down beside Minho's hammock. It was Newt. The blonde looked at him, then at Y/N. When Newt raised a finger to his mouth, in a hushing motion, Minho knew something wasn't right. The sheer panic in Newt's eyes had acid burning in Minho's throat.

Newt quietly and carefully had Y/N and Minho get out of their hammocks. Once they were on their feet, Newt waved for his friends to follow. It was a slow trip across the glade, stopping and starting. It was like they were hiding from something, trying to evade being seen, as they creeped their way across the grassy square.

Eventually, Newt led them to the maproom. He ushered his friends inside, peered around outside nervously before shutting the door and boarding it shut. "What the hell were you two thinking?"

"Uhhh, we were sleeping?" Minho scoffed in confusion. "Why are you up so early?"

Newt knit his brows, confused, agitated. "Because that's the new routine. You should know that. What is up with you?"

"Nothing." Minho crossed his arms. "What's up with you?"

Y/N interjected. "Newt, what's going on?"

"You don't know...?" Newt eyed Y/N suspiciously.

"I don't think we know what you're talking about." Y/N affirmed. "Wanna explain?"

"A few weeks ago, you two triggered something in the maze. Since then, the doors haven't shut. The grievers have started attacking during the day and going silent during the day. So, we hide during the day and you run at night."

"What?" Y/N rubbed her eyes. "How—"

A shreik, one all too familiar, cut through the glade. It was a griever.

"Come on, we can talk once we're safe." Newt grabbed his friends by the arms and moved to the back of the maproom. He shoved a heavy box and beneath where it had once sat, a hatch in the ground appeared. Newt lift it open and encouraged his friends to drop inside. When he shut the hatch, everything went dark. That was, until Newt lit some candles.

To Y/N and Minho's surprise, the place they'd dropped down into was at first a small tunnel but then it opened up into a small cave of sorts. Candles burned, illuminating the place, but they still didn't understand the context of all of this.