The Maze Runner: One-Shots

Impossibly (Newt)

Their words. They banged against your skull like a thrashing wind in a storm.

"Run!"

"Hurry!"

"You can do it, Y/N!"

But you couldn't. You couldn't run any faster. You couldn't hurry any more than you were. You couldn't do this.

The Maze doors slam shut in front of you abruptly, giving one last heaving gust of wind to your face that carried their screams to you. Then, silence. Only your terrified hearts beating echoed in your ears and the hum of insects inside the dark Maze.

The Maze where you'd die.

***

You swore you couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't handle any more of the wretched Grievers screams, their slimy bodies that lurked in the back of your mind. It's all you saw, all you heard. Your imminent death was practically laughing in your face now, and all you could do was wait for it to make the first move. If this was going to be a game of chess, then you'd forgotten how to play.

Two hours in the Maze and you were still alive, but that made no difference to the sun. It wasn't going to rise especially early for you, it wasn't going to save you. You had to save yourself, or you'd die trying.

***

Minho walked slowly up to Newt who sat lifelessly at Frypans table. His eyes were red rimmed and dark. They stared straight ahead at the Maze doors, yet nothing at the same time.

Minho placed a glass of water in front of Newt and sat next to him quietly, hearing the bench creak under his weight. He winced at the sound but looked at Newt to the right of him.

"Newt I-"

"She's gone," Newt interrupts with a cracked and dry voice. "Gone."

Minho doesn't, can't, say anything but places a hand on his friends shoulder. He knew it too, everyone did. There was no denying that Y/N was inevitably, and undeniably, dead.

And so there they sat, in complete and utter silence, until the sun rose. Occasionally Minho would leave to get a blanket or help settle down some of the panicked Gladers who awoke thrashing from a nightmare.

But Newt, he sat there, numb and detached. He didn't feel the snickering cold or the sympathetic wind that brushed it's fingers through his disheveled hair. He felt, in a lack for better words, nothing. Just the hollow piece of his heart that'd been stolen from him.

***

You lie by the closed Maze doors, laughing weakly at the sky. You'd done it. Beat the monstrous Grievers. Survived the impossible Maze. And now the sun was rising, filling the entire Maze pathway with its soft rays. All that was left was to wait for the doors to tear themselves steadily open as they did every morning. And all you had to do, was lie here. Finally, just lie here.

You seemed like you had waited a lifetime to hear that noise again, the stone on stone and grinding of a metal cog. The doors were opening and you tried to stay conscious long enough to look up and see the Glade again.

The Gladers were huddled around the opening of the Maze and they immediately started yelling. Newt was in the front of them all, staring at you like you were the lost diamond he'd been looking for. His hands gripped the ends of his hair impossibly tight and he breathed deeply.