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

- MEMORIES OF BEFORE -

I scan the faces around me - my friends. My family. The people who matter. "You alright?" Teresa asks, voice quiet.

I nod slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

Newt looks down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails too, a dark smudge on his cheek. I realize then that he's probably been with me the whole time. Watching. Waiting. He finally speaks again, his voice tense. "While you were out, Gally's taken control."

My heart drops. "What?"

"He called an emergency vote. Said we had a choice: join him, or be banished at sundown." Newt's jaw tightens. "With you."

I freeze. My eyes flick to Thomas, then Teresa, and Chuck, who are all in this pit with me. Then to Minho, who's standing up near the edge of the pit. His arms are crossed over his chest, but when I look at him, he offers the smallest nod. "Hey, I'd be there too, Speedy," Minho says. "But Newt wanted someone on the inside. Figured one of us had to keep an eye on the crazy Shank."

My stomach churns. "Gally has everyone convinced that you and Thomas are the reason this happened," Teresa adds. She doesn't say it cruelly - just truthfully. Her voice is soft, shaken.

I nod slowly, trying to make sense of the weight in my chest. "Maybe we are," I whisper.

That silence that follows is suffocating.

"What are you talking about?" Newt asks, eyes locking on mine. There's something behind his voice - fear, confusion, a cautious kind of hope. They're all watching me now. Teresa's lips are trembling. Thomas is tense, waiting for me to say the thing that might break everything open. And Newt - he's studying my face like it holds the key to everything, like he's trying to reach inside my head and understand before I even speak.

"I remember," I whisper. Thomas straightens. Teresa goes still.

Newt leans closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, see the muscles tense along his jaw. His gaze is unblinking. "What do you mean?" he murmurs.

"This isn't just a Maze built to torture you," I say, my voice growing stronger. "It's a test. An experiment. And it started long before any of you even got here."

"(Y/n), explain," Minho says, stepping in now.

"I saw us," I say. "As kids. We were younger, smaller. They ran us through challenges. Emotional tests. Psychological trauma. It was all designed to see how we'd react," I explain. "And then - after that - they started sending people away. Every month. One after the other."

Newt is staring at me like the ground's been ripped from beneath him. "They were sent to the Maze," he breathes.

I nod. "Yeah." I pause, the words catching in my throat. "But Thomas wasn't supposed to go. Neither was Teresa. Or me. We weren't under the same scrutiny. We were... with them." The shame claws at me. "I remember now," I whisper. "We weren't being watched. We were watching. For years. We monitored everything." Newt shifts backward slightly. Just an inch, but it feels like a chasm opening up between us. The look in his gaze makes me want to fall apart. Teresa's eyes are brimming with tears. Thomas just stares, lips parted like he's remembering too. "I didn't know the truth at first," I say quickly. "I didn't see what they were doing - not really. But then Chuck got sent in. And everything changed." I swallow the lump in my throat. "I was never meant to go. That's why I didn't come up in the Box," I state. "I broke in. I didn't want to be a part of them anymore."

Newt's brow furrows. "How?"

"I told Teresa I thought I was next," I say, glancing at her. She's pale, her hands trembling. "You told me it was part of the plan," I speak to her alone. Then I look at Thomas. "And you told me I had to do something." My voice grows more frantic. "I had a friend inside. One of the doctors. Arlo," I add, the name coming to mind. "I told him my plan to sneak into the Maze - to help you all escape. I thought he'd help me. But he betrayed me. He told them." My breath hitches as it all unravels in my memory. "So they were going to send me in anyway. Strip me of everything. Drug me. But you - Thomas - you helped me get out in time."

"I did," Thomas mutters. "I think I remember."

"You entered through that vent," Newt says slowly, realization dawning in his voice.

"I did," I confirm. The others don't quite connect the same dots but it isn't important right now.

"So that's why I got sent up," Thomas says, eyes wide. "They knew I helped you."

Teresa finally speaks, her voice a whisper: "Then why would they send me?"

I shake my head, quietly. "I don't know," I sigh. "Maybe it doesn't matter anymore."

It's heavy - the silence. Coiled with tension and grief and disbelief. "You're right." Newt's voice breaks the silence, low but steady, like a rope anchoring us all to the moment. "It doesn't matter. Because the people we were before the Maze... they don't even exist anymore."

His words settle into the pit of my stomach like a stone. I stare at him, unsure how he can sound so certain, how he can make something so dark feel almost grounding. His eyes are locked on mine - calm, resolute - and for a second, it's just us, our past lives burning quietly behind our gazes. "I just..." My voice cracks. I don't even know what I'm trying to say - guilt, shame, loss - all of it tangling in my chest like barbed wire. "I'm sorry. For everything. For being part of it. For not knowing. For remembering-"

"No," Newt says softly, but with a firmness that cuts through the fog of my self-hatred. "None of that. What matters is who we are now, and what we do right now. That's it." He kneels beside me, resting a hand lightly on my shoulder, grounding me. His touch is warm, steady, and I realize I've been shaking. "You guys found a way out," he says, glancing between Thomas and Minho, then back at me. "That's not nothing. That's everything."

"But if we hadn't gone in there," Thomas mutters, the guilt raw in his voice, "Alby might still be alive." His words are a blade. A brutal, unflinching truth. My breath hitches. I feel the grief hit me like a new wave, crashing through me. I clutch my knees to my chest, like maybe if I make myself small enough, I can squeeze the pain out. It doesn't work.

"Maybe," Newt admits, his voice quieter now. "But I know Alby. And if he were here, he'd be telling you the exact same thing I am: Pick your asses up and finish what you started.'" The silence after his words is thick and painful. I look over at Newt again, and this time, his eyes are shining. His hand moves from my shoulder to my palm. I wonder if it is a coincidence that our fingers interlock perfectly with one another - as if we are made to hold each other. He blinks the tears back, his jaw tight. "Because if we do nothing," he continues, "that means Alby died for nothing. And I can't-" he stops, swallowing hard. "I can't have that."

I nod slowly, tears prickling the corners of my eyes. "You're right." My voice comes out in a whisper. "You're right."

Across from me, Thomas gives a single, heavy nod. He runs a hand down his face, rubbing at the shadows beneath his eyes, like he's trying to wipe away the weight of the last twenty-four hours. "But we've gotta get through Gally first," he says grimly.

We all look at each other, knowing that those words are more than just an observation - they're a promise. A warning. A challenge.

~