The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

Chapter five

"Where do you think you're going, then?" The sudden flicker of light revealed Newt leaning casually against a table, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Thomas.

"Newt..."

"Don't be a twat about it," Newt interrupted, brushing past him and grabbing the bag from Thomas' hand. "I'm already in." He slung the bag over his shoulder and started toward the car without waiting for an answer.

"Come on."

"No. No, not this time," Thomas said firmly, stepping in Newt's path. "Look, even if we find Minho, there's no guarantee we make it back from this."

"Well," Newt said, shrugging as a wry grin returned to his face. "You'll need all the help you can get then, won't you?" He walked around to the car, throwing open the front door to reveal Frypan behind the wheel and Grace sitting in the passenger seat, a soft smile on her face.

"Hiya, Tommy," Grace greeted, waving cheekily.

Thomas blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the sight of them all.

Newt climbed in and settled himself in the backseat. "Well, we started this together. May as well end it that way, too."

Grace turned in her seat, glancing back at Thomas with determination shining in her eyes. "Let's get him back, shall we?"

The journey toward the Last City stretched long into the night, the hum of the engine lulling the car into an uneasy quiet. Grace sat by the window, her head leaning against the cool glass. Her arms were crossed tightly, holding herself as if to keep her fragmented thoughts from spilling over.

Sleep came fitfully, her dreams a swirling vortex of faces, places, and memories she couldn't escape. When she jerked awake, it was with a sharp intake of breath. The soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the car's interior.

"You're up," Frypan said from the driver's seat, his voice low so as not to wake the others.

Grace rubbed her eyes and sat up straighter, rolling her neck to ease the stiffness. "Can't sleep," she admitted. "The nightmares just keep coming."

Frypan nodded silently, his eyes on the road.

Grace sighed, her gaze turning out the window at the darkened landscape. "They put me in some sort of test. Made it look like I was back in the Glade." Her voice grew quieter, the words heavier. "I talked to Nick, Chuck, Winston..." She swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "Jeff and Clint, too."

Her fingers tapped restlessly against her leg. "They weren't so nice, though. I killed them all. Or couldn't save them." She exhaled sharply, the lump in her throat making her pause. "Same thing, I guess."

The weight of the admission hung between them, unspoken yet undeniable.

"You know," Grace muttered after a moment, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

Frypan glanced at her briefly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Because we're friends?"

That drew a quiet chuckle from Grace, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Yeah," she murmured. "We are."

She turned to glance at the backseat, her eyes lingering on Thomas. "She was there most times," Grace added, her tone shifting.

"Teresa?" Frypan guessed.

Grace nodded slowly. "Yeah. If we thought she was a bitch when we were on the road, she's an even bigger bitch when she's working for WICKED."

A soft groan from the backseat interrupted their conversation. Grace's eyes darted to Thomas, who stirred and blinked himself awake.