Newt Imagines

Attacked - P1

Third Person POV

Newt's worked hands brush over the soil in the garden, mindlessly pulling out weeds as he watches over the glade. Looking at it, he can almost believe things are working soundly, as they had since the rules were established years ago. But Newt knows better. There's a dark feeling swallowing the glade, an atmosphere of discomfort only threads away from exploding. While activity on the surface goes on as normal, nothing had really been the same since she arrived.

••• Her name is y/n, and her arrival had sparked a deep rift between the other gladers. Being the second girl, yet another surprising addition, the gladers were lost for ideas. Teresa had at least arrived with Thomas's name on her lips, providing her with a purpose, and therefore protecting her from discrimination by the original male gladers. Y/n, however, had nothing. Many boys immediately turned against her, claiming she had no place in the glade. Others argued that she was special and shouldn't have to work. The final decision was that she would be taken as one of us, and do her own to pull her weight among us. Alby's word was final but, despite her efforts, she was the source of an intimidating controversy.

What is Newt's view on all of this? On what side of the argument does he stand? Newt feels a smile creep onto his face, etching up the corners of his mouth at just the thought. Newt's side is shared by few, an unpopular opinion among the gladers, for he had actually decided to get to know the girl. They became friends quickly, forming a small group with Teresa, Chuck, Thomas and Minho. Meeting her changed everything for Newt. She meant the world to him, and they grew closer each day. They became best friends quickly, and told each other everything. She was the only person he'd ever told about what had happened that day, years ago in the maze. But it felt right to tell her. He wasn't worried about it anymore, and she always knew what to say. With her in the glade, he wasn't scared anymore. Everything she did just made his days better, his smile bigger. She was like an angel. •••

"What are you smiling at, shank?" Chuck's question pulls Newt from his thoughts, the smile slipping off his face as the image of y/n slips from his mind. The thought still remains, as do traces of his smile in his eyes.

"Nothing," Newt chuckles, dodging his friend's question. "What are you in the gardens for?"

"I'm done for the day, came over to see if I could help with anythin'," Chuck grins, standing with his hands on his hips.

"Well, since you're asking," Newt hands the boy an empty bucket. "We need a heap more fertilizer. Mind diggin' some up from the deadheads?"

Chuck nods excitedly. The boy was often this way, keen to help in any way he could. Since he was younger than the other gladers, he felt great pride when he was finally able to do something to help out. He takes the bucket from Newt's hands, nodding frantically.

"You betcha!" He calls, rushing out the gate of the gardens, into the glade and toward the deadheads.

Newt laughs at the Chuck's enthusiasm, shaking his head as he returns to weeding.

•••

In the gardens, Newt fiddles with the soil in his now-weedless plot, waiting patiently for Chuck to return with the fertilizer. After what feels like a lifetime, Newt spots Chuck pushing through the garden gate, panting heavily and dripping with sweat, with blooded grazes on his knees.

"What?" Newt smirks cheekily at the boy. "Bloody faceplanted and couldn't get up? What took so long?" Newt giggles sarcastically. "You've got blood on your..." His sentence trails off into oblivion as he notices the fear in Chuck's usually happy eyes.