Subject 22, The Muffin Thief- A Newt Fanfic

And never stops at all

Newt looked up through the wooden bars of the slammer, and his eyes caught on a figure running across the top of the maze walls. She was slim and swift, the moon outlining her form in silver. Her profile halted and turned towards the edge. Newt yelped as he saw her stepping towards it.

He'd done it once, tried to end it, climbed to the top of the wall and jumped. It just busted his leg and he could no longer be a runner. Looking back he regretted it, knowing that it was the stupid decision of a scared thirteen year old. If he had succeeded, he'd have never met Minho or Thomas or even Chuck.

He prepared to scream but as the girl jumped, a spider like form threw itself down the wall following her and it leapt out from the wall, catching her in midair and righting the girl on its back.

Then girl gave a hoot of laughter as Newt slumped in relief. The griever and its rider were making their way across the glade towards him. Newt tried to duck out of sight but the girl and her griever had already reached the door of the slammer.

She hopped off its back and crouched by the bars. Newt looked up from where he was sitting in the back corner of the slammer to see the girl grinning down at him.

The bridge of her nose was still split, so was her lip. She had at least patched up the other wounds on her face though, and her hands were wrapped in a thin layer of bandages.
"I'll let you out if you show me where the medical supplies have been hidden. Capeesh?" The girl stuck her hands through the wooden bars.

Newt reached forward shaking her hand.
"Newt." He replied and the girl cackled.
"Capeesh means 'do you understand', it's not my name!" She laughed harder, "My name is Isla, tanga."

Newt's face flamed. She was beautiful, with her dark hair twisted into a bun, and moonlight catching on her cheekbones. And here she was laughing at him.

Isla pov:
He was cute in a British way and his accent made her want to melt. Isla couldn't deny that Newt was hot. But he was also a glade boy and her mum warned her of them.

She unlocked the cage and pulled him out, a small smile on her face. Isla didn't trust him but she needed those supplies.

Dragging him along, Isla and Newt ran across the glade towards the med hut. Newt was struggling to keep up due to his limp.

"How did you know where to find me?" Newt questioned between heavy pants, stumbling along beside her.

"Heard some of the gladers snickering about how the golden boy was behind bars." Isla giggled, "Gave them a real fright when they heard a griever screech behind them but saw nothing, turned tails and ran."

Newt came to a sudden stop.
"This is the med hut, let me fix you up and you can take some spare supplies." Isla gave him a small grin while trying to suppress the blush that was creeping up her neck.

Newt pov:
They climbed the stairs and Newt turned to look at her as they entered one of the rooms.

When he first saw her in the kitchen, he hadn't had time to appreciate her beauty. The way the moon glinted in her eyes was stunning. She was lightly muscled in a lean way, like a runner. She was well-tanned and her dark hair was relatively clean.

'Stop it Newt!' He ordered, mentally slapping himself. He felt a mild pain blossom across his right cheek and Isla burst into a fit of giggles. Newt's face flushed scarlet as he realised he actually slapped himself.

To distract himself from the girl who had sat herself up on the bench in the center of the room, Newt busied himself with gathering the medical equipment he would need for Isla's wounds.

"I see you relocated your shoulder." He glanced over at Isla to see her grinning.
"Yep!" She popped the p, "Fala helped me."
"There's another?!"
Isla frowned, "Another what?"
"Girl! You just said she helped you with your shoulder!" Newt's shocked face cracked her up.
"Fala is my griever!" Isla laughed.

"...you have no idea how weird that sounds." Newt smiled back.

A/N: and thus a friendship was born! Will it become something more? Will the other gladers find out? Will people die? Yes to all of those... or not.