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

- NEW GIRL -

The next morning I'm sitting outside the Med-Tent, legs tucked to my chest, elbows balanced on my knees. The night was much shorter than the previous. Now the sun has risen, casting long golden fingers through the Glade, but the warmth doesn't reach me. The memory of the bracelet still itches against my thigh where it rests in my pocket.

I expect Newt to come find me this morning. He usually does - especially after such a chaotic day. But he's not the one approaching.

It's Thomas.

I sense him before I hear him - cautious footsteps that crunch slightly against the hard-packed dirt. He doesn't speak right away, just moves to stand beside me, close enough to cast a shadow over my knees. "She knows you," he says eventually. Last night I had to shout at the boys to get them to stop asking questions. It become too overwhelming, and I'm surprised Thomas is doing this at the start if the day.

I glance up. His face is drawn tight - that furrow in his brow hasn't left since we pulled her out of the Box. "I'm guessing you know her," I say instead, turning my face fully toward him. Thomas flinches, just slightly. His lips part like he's going to lie, or deflect. But my gaze doesn't waver, and that seems to rattle something in him. "I've seen her before... In my sleep," I murmur.

The words hang there, delicate but weighted. Thomas doesn't say anything. His jaw flexes. He lowers himself onto the log next to me, arms propped on his knees like mine. Five minutes stretch out between us, long and silent. I try to read his face, the way his eyes flick over the trees, the twitch of his fingers.

He's thinking a lot.

I hate that I can't tell what.

I wonder if he can tell what I'm thinking - how confused I am. Not just about the girl, but about this whole place, the way it warps time and memory until even dreaming feels like betrayal. I wonder if he's wondering the same. Or if he already knows things I don't.

A part of me wants to scream at him to say something. Anything. But I hold it in. If I push, he'll pull back. He seems like the kind of person who folds inward when pressed too hard. I rub my thumb against my knuckle.

"Can you help us in the Med-Tent, Darling?"

Newt's voice breaks through the quiet. Thomas and I both look up, startled. He's standing a few paces away, hands on his hips. His tone is light, but the shadows under his eyes say he didn't sleep much either.

I raise a hand and give him a thumbs up. He nods and ducks back inside the tent.

As I rise to my feet, brushing dirt from my legs, Thomas speaks again. "So, I haven't asked yet," he starts, tone casual, but there's something cautious there. "But are you two a thing?"

I blink at him. "A thing?" I echo, raising a brow.

He shifts a little, eyes on the horizon. "You and Newt."

I huff a laugh through my nose. "I wouldn't start a 'thing' with any of the boys in here," I say, and Thomas gives me a half-smile. "For more reasons than one."

He chuckles, awkward but sincere. "Fair."

"Newt's just... he's been nice to me," I add, keeping my voice soft. "One of the only ones who didn't treat me like a glitch the minute I showed up." Thomas nods. He doesn't press further. I actually think he shifts a little closer as we walk. But maybe I'm just imagining it. My brain's been playing tricks on me since I got here. Since the Maze. The girl.

We walk back toward the tent, both of us still carrying questions we're too afraid to ask.

~~~