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

- LOSS OF A SUN -

Tension crackles. The air is so tight it hurts to breathe. My eyes slide to the left. To her. My mother. Still lying there, blood pooling beneath her. My body seizes. I can't breathe. I didn't even get a day with her. Not one damn day.

She gave herself up to protect me and they took her anyway. And now we're all just standing here - frozen in fear while her killer walks free.

I clench my fists until my nails cut into my palms. "I made a deal with them," Teresa says. "They promised we'd be safe. All of us," she swears.

Safe? My gut twists. "What, as lab rats?" I mutter. I don't even try to keep the hatred from my voice. It comes out like static - raw and angry.

"And I'm supposed to trust you now?" Thomas snaps. "After everything?"

"It's true," Ava Paige says. "That was her only condition: Protection. For everyone." Her voice is soft, like she's trying to reason with him. Like she's the hero in this story. "Everything can go back to the way it was, Thomas," she says gently.

Thomas barks a laugh. It's humorless. Shaky. Tired. "Yeah? You gonna stick us in another Maze? Let us starve and kill and die?" I spit on his behalf. "Is that your plan?"

She turns to me, sighs deeply. "You kids need to calm down." There it is. The condescension. The reminder that no matter how many friends we've lost, no matter how many times we've bled or broken or begged, to her we're still just kids. "Thomas, do you want all your friends to die?" She asks. She gestures to us - how close we are to him, to the bomb. How close we are to obliteration. She's trying to manipulate him. Using us as leverage.

"Listen to her, Thomas," Janson says, stepping forward. "Think about what you're doing."

That's when something breaks inside me. "You think about what you're doing!" I shout, all breath and fury and grief. "You killed her! You took her away from me!" Every syllable tastes like iron. My lungs are fire. The image of her - slumping into Vince's arms - it's seared behind my eyelids. "She was trying to save us all- humanely! And you- you murdered her like she was nothing!" Janson doesn't answer. Doesn't look at me. He just stares at Thomas, eyes cold, calculating. Trying to figure out how to win this standoff. But I don't care. My voice drops into a whisper. "She was my mom."

There's a silence. Like the world pauses, and in it, everything trembles.

Newt's hand finds mine. No words, just skin and pressure and something that keeps me tethered when everything else is unraveling. I grip him like a lifeline - fingers shaking, slick with dirt and grief - but I won't let go. Not now.

We move as one. Newt, Frypan, Minho, and I. Each of us scarred, stunned, but steady in a way that only shared trauma can build. We walk through the wreckage - past the broken bodies and the guards that hesitate but don't interfere - toward Thomas. He looks at us, bomb still in his hand, sweat trailing down the side of his face. His arm trembles slightly, like even the weight of hope is too much to hold. "We're with you, Tommy," Newt says softly, but there's steel in his voice. A quiet kind of war cry.

Thomas blinks. Once. Then again, slower this time. His eyes move over us - his family - and I see it hit him: he doesn't have to do this alone.

"No," Teresa pleads. She takes a single step forward, eyes wide with panic.

"Do it, Thomas," Minho says. "We're ready."

Ready to die.

Ready to fight.

Ready to burn it all down rather than let them take us again.

There's no fear in his voice. Just certainty. The bomb hums in Thomas's hands. The tension coils tighter. Dr. Paige finally moves - she steps back. Once, just a single step but it's enough to show fear. That's all I need. "Don't," she says, trying to salvage control. "Please."

"Fuck you," I spit, and literally force the saliva towards her.

Her worry is momentarily replaced by insult. "I beg your pardon?" Dr Paige seethes.

"Then beg."

The words come out much more confidently that I feel, and I relish in the strength that they give me. I also embrace the feeling of my friend's pride that ripples the air. Thomas looks right through her. "We're not going back there," he says. "This is the only way," he adds in a mocking replica to Teresa's own statement. Thomas tightens his grip. And I brace for it. The flash. The boom. The silence that follows.

I hold my breath, eyes shut tight. I think about my mother. About how she fell. About Chuck. About Newt, whose hand hasn't let go of mine. About all of us - turned into pawns, pushed and prodded toward violence until it was the only language we spoke. I wait for the end.

But none comes.

Instead, I hear a roar. A mechanical wail, shrill and sudden. An engine.

The blaring engine of a truck.

~