Newt x Fem! reader- A Little Cranky

Chapter 1

(Quick A/N: I do not own The Maze Runner or any of it's characters. All rights go to James Dashner and Wes Ball.Warnings: swearing and gore. Enjoy the story!)

You wake up in a dark room. You remembered that while you were in the scorch, Teresa had convinced you to go back to WICKED with her.

*FLASHBACK*

"Come on, Y/N, we can trust them." That's what she'd said one night while everyone else was asleep.

"I don't know about this, Teresa. I mean, they trapped us in an unsolvable maze for two years, and for what? A nonexistent cure? Seriously, what the shuck are you thinking right now?" You replied.

"Think about it. I'm immune to the flare and you could seek refuge from it. We could save so many people! For example, what would you do if Newt got infected?"

You looked down at the sleeping boy, whose head was in your lap. You had been together since a year after you first arrived in the maze, though you had always felt something for each other. What would you do if he became a crank? Ever since Ratman told you that neither of you were immune, you had been a little worried about that. Mostly about him. You wouldn't be able to bear it if he became a crank, and your eyes watered a bit at the thought.

"You see? It's hard for you just to think about it. Well if he did, we might be able to save him." She said.

You looked up. "When do we leave?"

"Right when nobody's watching us. When nobody expects it. For now, we need to rest up."

"Yeah." You murmured in agreement before laying down. Newt sleepily pulled you close and you looked at him. What would you do if he became a crank? That thought lingered in your head as you surrendered yourself to darkness.

*END FLASHBACK*

You sat up and groaned, regretting your decision to run away with Teresa during that storm. You went to go open the door and walk out, but you heard muffled chatter and stopped, pressing your ear to the door.

"Why would you put her through that again?" A familiar voice said.

Teresa. You wondered what she was talking about.

"Well, she's not immune," said a female voice, "so we have no other use for Y/N. If we didn't have a lack in test subjects, we wouldn't send her back into the maze. But you should be glad that we're not sending her back out into the scorch."

The maze. You had to get out. You'd rather be infected than go back to that hell-hole. You had to get back to Newt. What if you forgot him?

"I guess this is the best thing to do with her. Good luck with the surgery!"

"Thank you, Teresa."

You heard footsteps coming toward the room. You had to get rid of the nurse, but you couldn't just walk out. In the now dim light that your eyes had gotten used to now, you saw a needle. Anesthetic. If you could get the nurse with that, you could escape with ease. You smirked as you lunged for the syringe before hiding by the door. It opened and almost hit you in the face.

"Where's the patient?" She said.

Before she could call for someone, you shut the door and turned her around to face you.

"Shhhh." You said, covering her mouth. With your other hand, you gripped her wrist and shot the needle in.

She passed out after about five seconds of struggling, but you had her pinned up tightly against the wall. Once she finally did pass out, you took her medical coat, and you noticed she had a name tag that read 'Dr Christensen, MD'. If you were to get out of here, you had to leave that here because someone might notice that you have the wrong name tag and start questioning things.

After stashing away her pass card into your own pocket, you poked your head outside. There seemed to be not many people there, so you went out and into the elevator. You decided it best to go through the basement level, in case you ran into any familiar faces. Once down there, you began to search for a way out.

After looking around for a few minutes, you noticed something. A vent! You could crawl through it and get to the outside. You took off Dr Christensen's scrubs and began to unlatch it using the pocket knife you always carried with you. After folding the knife back up, you gazed at it for a second.

It had been given to you on your first day as a runner. It had been nothing too special then, just protection from the grievers. But now, it was the only thing you had to remind you of simpler times back in the glade. You missed not having to worry about whether or not you would eat that day. You missed not having to be concerned about the flare or WICKED or just about anything but grievers.

Life was hard in the scorch. You almost regretted not going back into the maze. But you knew that if you had, you might not see Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, or any of your glader friends again.

You finally put the knife back in your pocket and began to crawl through the vent, eventually making it back to the outside world.