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

- WHEN THE TRUTH GETS OUT -

Thomas steps in and exhales, the first breath of relief in what feels like hours. "We'll need these if the storm keeps up," he says, already checking the batteries in one of the lamps. I grab a jacket, shaking the dust off. It's heavy, almost too big, but it's warm. Aris starts handing them out. No one argues. "Alright," Thomas says, turning to us. "Let's split up, search for anything else useful - food, water, gear. We meet back here. Don't go too far, and stay with someone."

We nod.

Then we all begin to split ways.

Thomas and Minho take a left turn, heading toward what looks like a collapsed food court. Aris, Winston, and Jack push deeper down a shattered escalator shaft, flashlights cutting narrow cones through the dark. Frypan and Teresa remain behind, the former rummaging through a crate near a broken shop window, the latter glancing back at me once - something understanding in her eyes - before giving a subtle nod and walking a little farther away to give us space.

Newt and I stay where we are. His leg needs the rest, and maybe, so do I. The quiet stretches between us. Not tense. Not warm either. Just... hanging.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," I finally say. My voice barely above the wind curling through shattered glass. But I know he hears me.

He shifts beside me, his body tilted slightly toward mine. "I'm sorry I went off at you," he replies softly.

"No," I shake my head, meeting his eyes. "No, I deserved it." A silence slips back in, but this time, it isn't sharp. Just gentle. Bruised. "Everything we do out here, to survive... it's built on trust," I add. I don't say more. I don't say how much he means to me. I don't have to. Newt hums. It's faint, but I feel it more than I hear it. "Janson is my father," I say quietly. "And he does still work for WICKED. But he did tell me otherwise. Swore he'd left it all behind," I say. "I was naive to believe him."

Newt leans his head back against the wall. "Any of us would've believed our parents," he murmurs.

"Maybe." I pause. "But I won't anymore. I know one thing for certain now." I take a breath. "WICKED is not good."

Another quiet agreement from Newt. Just a hum. But it's enough.

The silence rolls in again, thicker now, as the wind outside whistles through broken walls like a low, haunting lullaby. Dust floats in the amber light from the cracked skylight above us. The air smells like rust and old sun.

"You know," Newt says after a long stretch, "it's in the eerie silence here that I really do miss the radio." I glance at him. "That song," he adds, as if I needed clarification.

I wait a moment. Then I breathe in. "Rise up this morning," I sing under my breath, almost inaudible. "Smiling with the rising sun. Three little birds... pitched by my doorstep." It isn't awkward, but rather quite peaceful. And I can tell Newt feels the same as his eyes close alongside a soft smile. "Singing sweet songs... of melodies pure and true... Sayin', this is my message to you."

"Singing don't worry," Newt picks up, his voice more spoken than sung. Low. Steady.

"About a thing..." I keep going with him. "'Cause every little thing, is gonna be alright," we finish together, the last word melting into the air between us like a promise we're both trying so hard to believe.

He chuckles, and his head drops forward. I mirror him with a soft grin. "You know?" He says, voice quiet, shaded with disbelief. "Nothing about this is alright."

"Yeah," I breathe, letting out a short, dry laugh. "But we're still here."

"We are still here," Newt agrees. "That matters for something," he says. "That matters for a lot," he corrects. And then he turns, fully facing me. "And what matters going forward is that we're honest. With each other. Completely. No more secrets."

I nod. "I promise that from here on, there is nothing but honesty." I pause - because this part matters - and I meet his gaze head on. "And I'll start this chapter by saying, in total honesty..." I let my smile tilt a little wider, "you sing that song beautifully."

Newt huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head with a small, disbelieving smile. Then he looks at me. No teasing. No mask. Just real, honest, him. "Well then," he says quietly, "I'll be honest in saying..." He hesitates, but then finishes. "You are so beautiful."

The words knock the air from my lungs. I blink at him, stunned. And for a split second, my heart does something dangerous.

My expression falters. Not because I'm upset. But because I don't know how to take it. I start making excuses in my head - he hadn't seen a girl in years, he's tired, maybe he's just trying to end the night on a soft note. But it doesn't change the fact that he said it.

And in the end... I believe him.

We don't say anything after that. We don't need to.

Just two small smiles.

Two steady heartbeats.

~