The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

"Hey. Hey. Get up." Grace groggily stirred as she felt Newt's arms around her, still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes. She glanced up at Thomas, who had an urgent look on his face.

"I see something."

The words hung in the air as multiple Gladers groaned, some asking what was going on. Thomas pointed into the distance, his voice low but full of awe. "You see that? It's lights. We made it."

Before anyone could process, a flash of lightning split the sky, bright and blinding. They all froze for a moment, staring at the spectacle, before Minho took off running. "Let's go! We gotta go! Come on, come on!"

The group rushed after him, their hearts pounding in their chests. The deafening sound of thunder that followed felt like it shook the very ground beneath their feet. The brightness of the lightning was almost unbearable—something they'd never had to deal with in the Glade. Grace wasn't prepared for the noise and the intensity, and it made her ears ring.

Suddenly, she saw Newt and Frypan trip, stumbling as the ground beneath them shifted. Thomas was quick to help them up, pulling them back on their feet as the group pushed forward, heading for the building.

Grace's vision was blurry, the ringing in her ears overwhelming as she looked around for her friends. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the explosion—a burst of fire and smoke, right where Minho had been running.

"Minho!" she cried, her voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

Thomas dashed forward, his face stricken with fear as he rushed to Minho's side, who was engulfed in flames. Grace was by his side in an instant, desperately throwing sand on the flames, hoping to contain them. Aris and Newt quickly pulled Minho to safety, their hands trembling as they yanked him away from the fire.

"Get him up! Get him inside!" Grace urged as they carried him toward the shelter. She slid onto the ground beside him, shaking his body, trying to rouse him without making his burns worse. The others called out to him, their voices blending into a chorus of desperation.

Finally, Minho groaned, his body twitching as he stirred. Grace let out a sigh of relief, her body sagging against the ground. Newt was there in a heartbeat, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

"There he is. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but concerned.

Minho blinked, confusion in his eyes. "What happened?"

"You got struck by lightning," Grace answered, trying to keep her voice steady despite the panic that still gripped her chest.

Minho winced but managed a chuckle. "Oh."

Grace groaned, she would've hit him if his burns weren't so bad. "Come on, let's get him up."

Night had fallen, and the world outside seemed to pause for the first time since the chaos of the storm. Inside the dilapidated building, a heavy silence hung over the group, broken only by the faint groans of sleeping Gladers. But Grace, Newt, and Thomas remained awake, their thoughts too restless to allow for sleep.

Grace sat against a crumbling wall, legs pulled to her chest, the notebook she'd found resting in her lap. The words blurred together as her mind wandered, overwhelmed by everything they had faced. She let out a quiet sigh, her fingers absently tracing the edges of the worn pages. Next to her, Newt ran his hand gently through her hair, a soothing gesture that calmed her but also reminded her how fragile he looked now—his sharp features shadowed by exhaustion.

"You okay there?" Thomas's voice broke the silence, drawing both of their attention. His expression was serious but tinged with curiosity, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall opposite them.