Newt x Reader || A13

17 | panic

"I-"

"Don't tell me you haven't thought it too." I look down.

"I have." He speaks, "but I'd like to believe that maybe it's just a coincidence."

"It can't be." I say. "Things have been happening. You know more than anyone." I say.

I know it's not an accident I'm here in the maze.

I know there's something about me that sets me apart from the others.

Something awful.

I just don't know the why, and I don't know the what.

Newt pauses.

And he knows too.

"Julian told me." I say quietly. I open my mouth to continue, but no words fall from my lips. I have to tell Newt what happened in the maze.

He deserves to know, they all do, so why can't I bring myself to talk about it?

The glitches- use them. They don't know you know. Keep it that way.

Julian's words echo in my head.

Newt places his hand on my forearm under the pink water, wrapping his fingers around it, secure.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his eyebrows knit together in honest concern. A little weight is taken from my stomach as he speaks, the familiar accent bringing me back to the glade.

"I-" As I look into his concerned eyes, the words all rise at once. I open my mouth to tell him everything, but a
cut off by a loud commotion.

I stop. The track-hoes are running past us towards the centre of the glade. Next to me, Newt stands quickly.

"The box. It's got to be." He tries to sound excited about it, but his voice is tinged with remorse as I stand and chase after him, sprinting after the others.

- - -

Moments later, I'm standing over the box, Gladers huddled together around me. 

As it rises, the top comes into view. It shudders to a halt with a clang, and the Gladers pine to catch a glimpse of the new greenie.

"Right on cue then." Someone says.

"Been exactly a month since she there came up." Another responds, gesturing over to me. 

I slot myself in next to Minho and the rest of the runners as the box comes up. I look up at him, wondering how he's holding up. His face is a hard line, but his eyes are empty, and I can tell his shoulders sag with a heavy grief. 

My thoughts are completely abandoned as the box opens.

With a creak, Gally and Nick pry open the metal hatches of the box. The rusty iron creaks with a terrible screech as light floods the dark box. While the gladers peer in, I hang back with Minho and Newt.

"Day one greenie," Gally's low voice resonates throughout the group, "rise and shine." 

There's a thump, then Frypan's laughter sounds.

"I could use some help in the kitchen!" More laughing. I hear heavy breathing, panicked, then some more commotion. I turn as I hear footsteps through the crowd becoming closer and closer, followed by Ben shouting directly into my left eardrum.

"We got a runner!" He hoots, the end syllable dragged out, echoing throughout the glade. I bend down and cover my ears. In that time, someone sprints past me at full speed. I can't see the face; he's a blur of movement. 

The gladers turn towards the greenie as he sprints farther and farther away. He wears a blue long sleeve shirt, and though his back is turned, panic is evident in his frantic steps and erratic movements. 

"And he notices in three!" Chuck begins counting. I stare at the greenie's back. With a long stride, his foot become caught in the ground, and he falls, rolling over his face. The crowd erupts in laughter; my ears ring in the hysteria. Something is off, something is wrong-

"Two!" Chuck continues. The laughter makes my head throb; it almost hurts. Across the field, the boy slowly looks up, his back still turned, body sprawled in the grass.

"One!" The boy slowly gets to his feet, and Chuck's entirely right. His head is tilted up as he stares up at the walls surrounding us. 

I watch in fascination as he tilts his head slowly, similarly to how I had. The group's laughter dies down as Alby makes his way over across the field. The rest of us follow slowly. I hang back and wait for Newt as the group passes.

"Exciting, isn't it?" he asks. I look up at him as we follow the group.

"I guess," I say, "but it's just another one of us who's stuck in here." 

Newt turns to me, offering a small smile.

"You always see the worse side of things, don't you?" I shrug.

"Guilty." 

As we near the group, Alby's already reached the boy. Alby's kneeling in the grass facing us, the greenie in front of him, his hands on his shoulders. Though Alby kneels before him, the boy is still staring up at the sky, his back turned, focus elsewhere.

"Listen to me. It's going to be okay." Alby is saying, but the boy doesn't seem to be listening. His shoulders are rising and falling rapidly; he's breathing fast. Suddenly, he whirls around, and my stomach drops.

He stares at the crowd, eyes shifting rapidly, scanning the group. He has short, cropped brown hair and dark eyes wide and full of panic. His jaw is set open in panic and shock.

Instantly, the ringing begins again, but it's less of a sound and more of a sensation; there's pressure in my ears and my stomach begins to churn. After a second of frantic scanning, his eyes settle on mine, and the shock drains from his face.

"You." He says, his voice breathy, ragged from running.

I stare at him, unable to speak, taking in his every facial feature, searching frantically through the memories that are so painfully lost on me.

The gladers have fallen silent. Their glares are prominent in the blistering heat of the day and the moment.

"I know you" the boy says before his eyes roll up into his head and he passes out in the grass.