IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- ONE OF US -

Someone calls my name in my sleep.

It's not a whisper - it's firm. Male. Deep. There's something sharp in his tone. Authority. Experience. Command. Like I have to listen, like not waking up isn't an option.

I stir, confused. My heart is pounding before my eyes even open.

I'm back in a lab.

I don't know how, but I am. I also don't know how I recognise the place, but I do. The ceiling is white. Too white. Cold fluorescent lights flicker overhead. The walls are smooth. Clinical. I can hear a machine humming. Something beeping - regular, like a heartbeat. Sterile air in my lungs. There is a girl on the bed next to me. I'm on a bed- arms bound, strapped in. I try to move-

Then a hand clamps over my mouth.

I jerk awake.

My body reacts before my brain does - I thrash backward, instinct driving me. My breath stops. My chest is crushing in on itself. Then I see the eyes. Brown. Familiar. Calm.

It's just Alby. I think it as though I've known this boy for more than a day. Still, his real presence means much more than the nightmare. "It's alright," he says softly, voice barely above a whisper. His hand is still over my mouth, but now it's gentle. Not holding me down. Just... making sure I don't scream. I breathe in through my nose, sharp and fast. My pulse is still pounding in my ears. When he lifts his hand, I suck in the air like it's water and I've been drowning. "Come with me," he says. No explanation.

I don't ask for one. I just get up.

The camp is quiet. The fire has burned down to glowing embers. Everyone is asleep. Chuck is curled in a ball. I see Newt, sprawled across his hammock, one hand twitching in his sleep.

The sky is changing.

It's the first time I've seen the sunrise in this place. The first real moment of beauty since waking up here. The light pours in low and golden, spilling between the trees and painting the grass in hues of rose and amber. I can't help but stare, my breath catching in my throat.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Alby murmurs beside me as we walk. I nod. But I don't trust it. Beauty here feels like a lie waiting to be exposed. Alby walks slowly. He lets me look around. The Glade is still-no shouting, no hammering, no running. Just stillness and early light. "I know it's hard to believe," he says, "but it wasn't always this way." I look at him. He's not watching the sunrise. He's watching the Glade like a general surveys his land. "We had dark days," he says. I follow his gaze - and notice, for the first time, that he's carrying a knife. It glints silver in the sunrise. My stomach tightens. "We lost a lot of boys to fear. To panic." His voice is steady, but I can hear the wear in it. Like he's said this before. Like it still costs him something. We walk up a small rise, off to the side of the Glade, where the grass thins and the trees don't grow. The sunrise sweeps over us fully now, bathing everything in yellow. Alby stops. "We've come far since then," he says. "Established order. Made peace."

"I'm glad," I say, quietly. But I'm not sure it's what I mean. There's a weight in my chest I don't know how to describe. A knot that tightens with every word.

He looks at me. "Do you know why I'm telling you this?" I shake my head. "Because you're different, (Y/n)." He says it simply. Not accusing, not praising. Just a fact. "And I don't just mean that you're a girl," he adds. But he's not smirking. He's not teasing. There's no amusement in his face. "You're determined. Which is a great quality to have. But that trait is laced with curiosity," he observes. "Curiosity can get people killed here." I blink. My hands are cold. He lifts the knife. For one brief, irrational second, I think he's going to hurt me. But instead, he takes my hand in his - surprisingly tenderly - and places the knife in it. "You're one of us now," he says. "You need to know what that means."