The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

Chapter two

Alby chuckled softly, shaking his head. "She's playing with us," he said, half-laughing, half-serious.

Grace frowned, feeling more confused. "What the hell are you two talking about? Seriously, you're not saying anything."

Minho smirked and shrugged, clearly enjoying her frustration. "Nope, not telling you."

Grace sighed, frustration mixing with curiosity. "You're not giving me anything, are you?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

Alby just shrugged, clearly not bothered by her frustration. "Nope."

Grace huffed and looked down at her food, feeling the weight of the mystery pressing on her. She couldn't help but wonder if this had something to do with Newt. Why had he been so strange earlier? His behavior had been off, like he was hiding something. She wasn't sure what it was, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

Grace wasn't herself all day. Clint and Jeff exchanged concerned glances, doing their best to keep her distracted.

"Hey, Grace," Jeff called out, trying to lighten the mood. "Did I ever tell you about the time Clint fell face-first into the pigpen?"

When she didn't respond, he called her name again. "Grace?"

"Huh?" She turned to him, frowning. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"You alright? You've been off all day."

She sighed, shrugging. "I don't know. Newt was acting weird yesterday, and now Minho and Alby keep hinting at something he was supposed to tell me. But he didn't." She rubbed her temples, letting out a frustrated breath. "And now it's stuck in my head, and I can't stop wondering if I should've pushed him harder to talk. It's stressing me out, and I—"

"MEDJACKS!"

Alby's voice rang out across the Glade, cutting her off. All three Medjacks froze before turning in the direction of the shout.

"MEDJACKS!" Alby's voice grew louder and more urgent.

Grace's stomach dropped as she bolted toward the sound, Clint and Jeff right on her heels. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Alby emerging from the Maze, dragging a bloodied Newt behind him. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, his head lolling to one side.

"Oh my God," Grace whispered, her breath catching. "Is he—"

Jeff rushed forward, crouching by Newt's side and pressing his fingers to the boy's neck. "He's alive! We need to move, now!"

Alby adjusted his grip. "Help me get him to the hut!"

Grace snapped into action, sprinting ahead to prepare the bed. Her hands moved on instinct, gathering bandages, splints, and anything else they might need. "Quickly! Get him on the bed!"

The group burst into the Medjack hut, Clint and Jeff helping Alby hoist Newt onto the prepared surface. Grace didn't pause—her focus narrowed to Newt and the damage before her.

"His leg is shattered," Clint muttered, already examining the mangled limb.

"Head trauma too," Jeff added, checking the gash above Newt's temple.

Grace swallowed hard, her fingers trembling for only a moment before she steeled herself. "We don't have time to hesitate. Jeff, clean the head wound. Clint, stabilize the leg so I can set it."

Their movements became automatic, years of practice sharpening into efficiency. Alby stood nearby, pacing like a caged animal. Grace blocked out everything but the task at hand.