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

- TAKEN -

"Oh, my child," Janson whispers as I fall to my knees, then the floor, my gun clattering away. "You shouldn't have come back."

My vision spins.

I can't move.

Can't speak.

Can barely breathe.

My head lolls to the side. And the last image I see before the darkness drags me under is Ava Paige's lifeless body, her hair sprawled like a halo, her white coat soaked red beneath her.

And then-

A voice.

A boy.

Shouting. Rage in his tone. Familiar. Thomas? But it's too late.

Everything goes black.

~~~

I wake up to Thomas' face.

The lights overhead are sterile white, buzzing faintly, making his skin seem paler than usual. His eyes are wide, anxious - like he's been watching me for a while, waiting.

"I really didn't have anything to do with that," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his mouth too quickly. His voice is tight with guilt, laced with quiet desperation.

My arm aches.

A sharp, pulsing throb. I glance down and see Teresa crouched beside me, her brows furrowed in deep concentration as she draws blood from the inside of my elbow. Her gloved hands are stained red, trembling slightly. There's already a bandage on Thomas' inner arm - fresh, barely wrinkled. He's given some already. "I'm sorry," Teresa says softly, not quite meeting my eyes.

We're in a lab. Cold and familiar. The same one, maybe, where I once found her before - walls of blinking machinery, steel countertops cluttered with half-used vials, shattered glass on the floor from whatever chaos happened here last. One of the monitors flashes red and blinks ENZYME EXTRACTION COMPLETE. Another hums with biometric readouts. The air reeks of alcohol and something metallic, like old coins.

I lift my head slowly, and that's when I see him.

Janson.

He stands near the reinforced window, arms folded, back straight and still as stone. His silhouette is carved by the flames blooming in the distance. The city is falling apart outside - smoke spiraling into the air, flashes of explosions rippling through the skyline. It's carnage. A final act of desperation. I blink at the fire. The horror.

And I think of Newt.

And Gally.

And Minho.

And Brenda.

Please be safe.

"I was coming willingly," I rasp. My voice is dry, cracked. I swallow hard, tasting ash or blood - or both.

Janson doesn't look at me. "I didn't realise," he mutters, almost bored, still staring at the destruction like it's some inconvenient mess someone else has to clean. "Considering you haven't thought logically in months... you must excuse me." My teeth clench, but I don't waste breath on him.

Thomas is still staring. Still holding my gaze like it might anchor him. Like he's afraid if he looks away, I'll vanish. "Newt?" He asks, his voice breaking over the name like a cracked edge.

I smile. Just barely. The kind of smile you give when the worst almost happened. When it still might. "Alive," I say, a breath more than a word. Teresa takes another vial from my arm. I wince, but the pain is distant compared to the flood of relief rising in my chest. "Minho got back in time." Thomas makes a sound - something between a laugh and a gasp - and his shoulders drop like he's been holding them up for days. Then I turn my head to Teresa. "Thank you," I whisper.