The Maze Runner Imagines

Minho [27]

 "Uhhh, Y/N," Clint walked up to the girl contently sitting by the fire with Newt and Chuck, a small smile on her face. Her shift at the medjack hut had ended hours ago but the patient who just wandered in needed her expertise. It wasn't that Y/N was necessarily a better medjack than Clint or Jeff, but she had a way of tending to people and calming them down that they just couldn't. The specific patient in question was also impossible to work with, so unless it was Y/N to patch them up, they would never get better.

"Hey!" She greet him back. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, about that... No." He cringed. "We need your help."

"Why?" Newt stood up alongside Y/N with worry washing over his features. "What's going on?"

Clint began walking toward the hut in a hurry, leaving Y/N and Newt with no option other than to follow him. "It's Minho. He's hurt real bad. But, of course, is fighting everything Jeff and I do to help."

"Sounds about right." Y/N grumbled. "How bad?"

Clint looked her way and raised his brows in uncertainty. "Bad enough that this could end poorly if we don't get it under control."

Clint had been serious. There was blood everywhere. There was a trail through the dirt and grass leading straight inside the medjack hut and a worrisome amount inside. As they entered and rounded the first corner, there was Minho, laid out on the cot with cuts and bruises all over his body. The most concerning was the red, what used to be somewhat white, towel wrapped around his lower leg.

Y/N panicked. Not panicked in the sense that she lost her ability to focus and do her job, but knew that there was a small margin for error here.

"Minho?" She spoke out just loud enough for him to hear over his own groans of agony.

The boy snapped his head around to catch Y/N's eyes. He sat there a moment, breathing heavy, questioning if she was really here or it was his mind just trying to cope with the pain. "Y/N." He grunted with a small nod.

"What happened?" She asked, coming closer and scanning over his body. He was in awful shape but there wasn't anything that concerned her too much other than the wound on his leg.

Minho tried to catch his breath. "Griever. It caught me off guard while mapping and I didn't have time to get out of the way."

"Ok—" Y/N reached for a pile of new towels from the corner of the room. She removed the old ones from around his leg and tried not to let her expression show how awful this was. The griever had obviously taken a direct strike to Minho's leg with some kind of blade. It had cut straight through and deep. There was no way he'd be running for a while and it was a miracle he'd even made it back here. "This is going to hurt like hell, Minho. You ready?"

"Of course, shuckface. Get it over with!" His voice was raised now.

Y/N gave him a look of disbelief, but carried on nevertheless. She took one good look at the wound and knew what to do. "Clint, I need you to go get some salt from Frypan. Jeff, get him prepped for stitches and Newt you're gonna have to be ready to hold him down."

Newt looked a little uncertain about that, but nod regardless. He'd do whatever it took to help his friends.

When Clint returned, Y/N had everything she needed to make a dilute salt water solution to flush out the wound. "Ok, Minho. We've gotta clean it out, okay? Just hold still."

Minho laughed like it were a joke. He knew he wasn't holding still. The second Y/N started pouring it down on his leg he nearly jumped out of his own skin. How just cleaning the thing could cause so much pain, he had no clue. "WHAT THE HELL?" He hollered out.