~A Slow Recovery~

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"Can't take a chance that one day, in one spot, somewhere, an exit might appear. We can't give up. Ever."

James Dashner, The Maze Runner

・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*

While in recovery, you had gotten into lots of trouble somehow. Mainly it was Newt's fault but you always took the blame despite not being able to even fully sit up.

One day however, you had made the mess. Newt had been feeding you since you were too weak to lift your arms and today he had brought in some orange slices, a sandwich, and an assortment of other things. However, after you had eaten the sandwich Newt had "accidentally" spilled water on you. This prompted your weak arms to pick up an orange slice and chuck the tangerine fruit at him. The juice spurted everywhere as it smashed onto his shirt. He looked bewildered for a moment, but only just a moment.

Forgetting how weak you were he began rocketing food in your direction. You did the same at a much, much slower pace. The food fight went on for about 5 minutes before you leaned your head back, narrowly avoiding a balled up chunk of bread. You closed your eyes for a moment and just smiled.

"You alright there, love?" Newt called out to you.

"Yeah, sorry," you answered.

"Look at the mess we've made! Can't even be a good acting leader," he scolded himself. You just laughed a bit at this. Newt had been with you almost all day every day, you wouldn't be surprised if Gally had basically taken on the position for the moment.

Newt admired you for a moment. "I'm glad you're getting better, let's just hope you can get running soon, yeah?"

"Yeah."

゚*☆*゚゚*☆*゚゚*☆*゚゚*☆*゚

A couple days into your recovery, you sat bored and twiddling your thumbs. You had been feeling very sick today and seemingly everyone knew and avoided you like the plague.

"Soup! Just for you y/n! I asked Fry to make it," Newt exclaimed, bursting into the small hut. He tilted this way and that, obviously not good with balancing a bowl of hot soup in his hands. One taste had you reeling for more. Newt gladly helped you and fed you spoonful after spoonful. Your bright eyes shone in the morning light and Newt gleefully chuckled after you had downed every last drop of the soup. "You really like soup, huh?" he asked, smiling from ear to ear. He was obviously happy to have been able to help you.

"Mhm!" you grinned sheepishly. You used your weak arms to lift your braided hair that Chuck did to try and hide your face. Newt just giggled at your feeble attempts to hide your reddening cheeks.

"Don't worry about it love, Frypan's cooking is the best thing since that goat came up." Newt seemed sure of this and you tried to think of what was so good coming from that poor goat. Ohhh- the milk... they'd probably hadn't had any until the goat came up. Milk is used for so many things too, that's kinda sad but also nice. I mean... I bet Alby was mighty happy when he learned Fry could cook way better than him. You would have been as well.

Now you had a companion for the majority of the day. You always felt like you were wasting Newt's time but he kept assuring you it was okay. You had also thanked him almost everyday for helping you so much. He brushed it off like it was and easy thing to do.

Newt was so nice, and apparently cared a lot more than you originally thought you did. The whole time you had been back in the Glade though, you had not once seen Thomas. And it made you wonder about him.

You missed him. He had made you feel safe, and had stayed with you until the Griever had chased him. You wanted to see Thomas as soon as you got out of here.

・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*

671 words

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