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

- ONLY GETTING WORSE -

"I didn't either," I say sharply, making sure he understands I wasn't withholding information in the Glade all those months ago. "Not until we escaped the Maze." My voice hardens with the memory. "Though I refuse to call him that- 'father' - anymore." There's a heavy pause as we walk, the cold pressing against us in silence. "He shot my mom," I add quietly. "Mary Cooper. Doctor for the Right Arm." The words come out flat but raw. "She's the reason Brenda is still here with us, honestly. She was the closest of them all to a true cure, and he killed her." I can feel the weight of it settle on the group.

Minho, Thomas, and Newt all remember that day - their faces flicker with grief and anger. Gally looks away for a moment, his expression pitiful, as if the pain of our losses settles on him too. "Well, I told Brenda to wait for us," Gally says, his voice a little softer now. "But it's been a while. With all the sirens sounding in the streets, I suspect she had to leave the rendezvous spot."

"Fry should be in position by now," I say, the hope tightening in my chest. "Maybe it'll be alright."

Just then, a flare shoots into the night sky - a sharp red spark that bursts like a burning star against the black canvas above. It hovers for a moment, glowing fiercely, then fades slowly, like a momentary beacon in the darkness.

Newt lets out a small, hopeful chuff. "I think they made it," he says, eyes fixed on the flare.

Through the gaps between the looming toll buildings, we catch fleeting glimpses of the crane - its long metal arm creaking as it carefully lifts the bus. The headlights and taillights of the vehicle shine faintly through the structures, like tiny stars clinging to the steel and concrete of the city. The slow, deliberate movement of the crane gives a fragile sense of salvation amidst all the chaos.

"I think it's working," Thomas chuffs, his voice full of relief and happiness for the first time in hours.

Gally's tone snaps us back to reality. "We've got to go," he says sharply, urgency pulling at his words.

"How far are the tunnels?" I ask, scanning the dark streets ahead. They're our back up plan for escape.

Overhead, the searchlights from helicopters sweep back and forth, powerful beams cutting through the misty night. Their rhythmic, mechanical thrum fills the air, making my heart pound harder. Each beam feels like a threat, like it's looking right at us, and every time they go past, a fresh wave of panic hits.

We duck behind a central plaza area, finding temporary cover near some cold, empty benches. The shadows here feel deeper, but the noise of the city and the helicopters makes it impossible to feel truly safe. "Well, they're definitely pissed," Gallt says grimly. "Tunnels are about twelve blocks from here," he adds in answer to my question.

Twelve blocks - a lifetime away when the city hunts us like prey. But it's the only shot we've got.

We stay crouched low behind the cold, damp benches, the night pressing in around us. The distant hum of sirens and the sharp rotors overhead fill the air, a constant reminder that we're far from safe.

Suddenly, Newt's body convulses with a harsh cough, tearing through the quiet like a sudden storm. He clutches his side, trying to steady himself but the cough only grows worse, wracking his thin frame. "Deep breaths," I tell him softly, kneeling closer, knowing it's probably little help but it's all I can offer.

Gally shoots me a confused glance, like he's also questioning my useless actions. Thomas, though, looks at me with knowing eyes - the kind that have seen too much pain. Minho shifts uneasily beside Newt, his worry etched plainly on his face, though he doesn't fully understand the gravity of Newt's condition yet.

"We can make it," Gally says with determination, trying to keep the morale steady.

"Newt, how are you feeling?" Minho asks gently, flanking him on one side while I stay close on the other.

Newt lets out a dry chuff, a crooked, tired smile twitching on his lips as he looks at me. "Terrible," he admits. "But it's good to be here." He taps a hand lightly on Minho's shoulder, who returns the gesture with a firm squeeze before moving over to crouch with Thomas and Gally.

That's when my eyes catch something unsettling. Along the right side of Newt's neck, the veins stand out. Not the usual blue or green or red, but a viney black, like twisted shadows beneath his skin. "Newtie," I whisper, my breath trembling. I reach out with a gentle finger to trace the darkened path. "Does this hurt?"

He looks up at me, his voice quiet but honest. "No? Not when you touch it. But it does... a little when I breathe."

I appreciate his honesty. He senses my concern and nods understandingly. His fingers find the chain under my uniform - the locket hidden there - and he touches it briefly as if admiring the item but nothing more. "Let's get you up," I say, and help him to his feet, though he still stumbles a bit. Minho and Gally whisper together, exchanging quick words, and Newt intercepts their short conversation. I step aside and find Thomas, lowering my voice. "I need to go find Teresa."

"What do you mean?" He asks, concern tightening his brow.

"What if we reach Brenda and the serum doesn't work?" I say, voice barely above a whisper. "What if Teresa was telling the truth- if- that she really just wants to save everyone? Just like how I need to save Newt."

We keep our voices low, careful not to alert the others. "If you go back in there, (Y/n), you won't make it out," Thomas warns softly.

"Yeah, though... call me naive, but I can't take any risks right now," I reply, feeling the weight of hope and desperation tangled inside me. "Not with Newt's life on the line." Thomas looks at me long and hard, searching for something I don't even know I have.

"Come on, guys," Gally calls out, breaking the moment. "We need to keep moving."

I take a last look at Newt, Minho, and Thomas, knowing the road ahead won't be easy. But I remember the promise I made to myself, and I will see it through.

~