The Maze Runner: One-Shots

Assistance (Newt)

Winston stepped closer to you and held his arms out in question. "Why won't you fight back, Y/N?"

You got off of your knees and wiped at the corner of your swollen lip. You glared at him and tried to steady your balance.

"Since you're so eager to prove you're no less than us, you should be able to hit me, right?" He smirks and you glance around the Glade. Everyone was busy at work and no one was casting a glance towards the Homestead you were in front of.

"Get away from me," you spat and tried to walk past him.

He grabbed your shoulder and pushed you back. "Fight me!"

You snapped at his words. You threw your fist back without thinking and slammed it into his jaw. A crushing feeling swept through your hand but you knew it was worse in his face. Winston rested a hand on his knee to recover for a moment. He groaned and stood up straight. A gleam in his eyes told you this wasn't close to being over.

Winston pushed you backwards roughly, making you slam into the side of the homestead. Your ears were already ringing from his previous hits and you shake your head to clear it, but instead it only makes it worse.

You bend over when Winston slams his fist into your stomach, making it cramp and you suddenly want to release your lunch. But you don't. Instead you try to thrust your knee up to injure him, but he catches it and swipes your other leg out from under you. The entirety of your being slams into the ground and a couple Gladers hear the commotion. Thank goodness.

But they were too far away. Winston scowled at you and the last thing you see before utter darkness is the bottom of Winston's shoe.

***

You fade in and out of consciousness, only aware of fragments around you. Newt yelling, Albys arms crossing, Minho scowling, and Newt beside you. You didn't know how long you'd been out, but it felt like months to you.

When you open your eyes this time, you're aware enough to keep them open. You look around yourself frantically and sit up, only to have the blood rush to your head and you groan.

"Hey," Newt says gently and a hand rests on your arm. "Take it easy, yeah?"

You push your eyes shut and rest a hand on your forehead. You remembered what happened with Winston, but there were holes. "What happened to him?"

"A week in the pit."

You chuckle. Serves him right, that shuck face. You open your eyes again to see Newts concerned ones. You smile weakly at him.

"I'm fine, Newt," you try to reassure him but a look on his face makes you think he knows better.

"Y/N...he sprained your wrist and dislocated three of your fingers."

Your eyebrows furrow and you look down to your hand. Sure enough, it was swollen and a dark purple and black. Your cheekbone was tender too where he'd hit you and your entire face seemed to be throbbing.

"Actually," you sigh. "I think I did that to my hand. I hit him pretty hard."

Newt laughs. "Good. He needed it."

After making sure you were okay, Newt guides you from the med-jacks hut to Frypans kitchen. The Gladers stared at you in sympathy and some glared at the pit. Newt helped you sit down slowly, making sure you didn't hurt your leg, which was apparently hurt pretty badly too. Who knew, maybe after all of this was over, you and Newt would have matching limps.

Frypan had made soup. Your heart falls and you stare down at the full bowl as if it was a mountain to climb, and maybe it was for you. You look to your sprained hand and back to the spoon. There was no way...

Newt sees your predicament and chuckles, putting his spoon down. "Here, I got you, love."

He picks up your spoon and helps you get the food inside your mouth with minimal spillage. Your lip was tender too and you winced when the spoon hit it.

"I feel like a toddler," you mutter as you shoot glares back at the Gladers who were laughing at you. Most of them were your friends and you knew they were doing it out of good fun but you were still a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry about them, alright? You haven't eaten in an entire day."

Had you really been out that long? Wow. You see Minho snickering at you and you stick your tongue out at him. He turns away but you still see his shoulders shaking.

***

Later that day, you find yourself pushing your hair away from your face and even trying to tie it up with no success. After a couple days it got dirty and you needed to wash it. But then again with your wrist. You thought for a moment and decided that if you just washed your hair instead of going to the showers, maybe that would work instead. Save you the trouble of trying to deal with your clothes.

You take some soap from the showers and walk over to the sink in Frypans kitchen. He'd cleaned it after lunch and you were grateful. You knew he wouldn't mind if you used it to rinse your hair in. You started the water when you hear someone come running up behind you.

"Woah woah woah," they say and step in front of you. Newt was breathing heavily and you guessed he had been looking for you until he'd spotted you here. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to wash this rats nest," you sigh and motion to your hair. Newt nods and pulls a chair from the tables that you used for lunch. He put it in front of the sink and had you sit in it.

"Hold on," you pause and look up to him. "Do you even know how to wash long hair?"

Newt thinks for a moment. "I mean, it can't be that much different, right?"

You laugh to yourself. Yeah alright, Newt.

Newt starts the water and takes the soap, rubbing both into your hair. You don't say a word and just wait silently for his confusion to set in. He tries to rings the soap out of your hair but his brow knots together and he glances at your amused face.

"How...how do you...what?" Newt stares at your hair that was tangled in his fingers and he panics a little. "I can't get the soap out and your hair is buggin' everywhere. Make it stop," he says frustratedly.

You laugh and look up to him. "You know what just bunch it all up and stick it under the water okay?" At this point you didn't care how it was washed.

Newt did as he was told but he kept shaking his head. "I will never understand how you deal with this," he says and holds up strands of hair that were still wound around his fingers. You rolled your eyes but smiled.

Ten minutes later and Newt finally gets all the soap out. He hands you a towel which you carefully wrap around your dripping hair. You thank Newt and kiss him on his cheek which was somehow wet. Now that you looked at him, you noticed that his clothes were soaking. You tried to contain your laughter.

"Tell me that I don't have to do that again," he groans and stares at your hair.

You smile sheepishly and shrug. If your wrist wasn't better soon then, yes, he would have to. And he knew it.

He sighed and put an arm around your shoulder. "It's a bloody good thing I love you."