𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 004 , 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠
"Disappointment takes us by surprise
Even though by now I think we should have realized
Everyone is dumb (dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb)
La, la, la, la, la, la, la
(Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb)"
SOFT SNORES COULD BE HEARD ALL AROUND APOLLO. The faint smell of a fire dying out made his nose twitch. Pushing himself up, he blinked a few times to try and focus his eyes and wake himself up. Sleep didn't come easy, not as easy as he would have liked.
A sigh escaped his lips, he tried to recounter his thoughts. The night before was quite the experience. His name was Apollo. And he was a Glader. That word, that term felt new and foreign in his mind – he even had to move his lips to try and say it to get used to that idea. The sky was still dark, torches burnt out or even blown out so that resources weren't being wasted.
Tossing his legs over the side of the hammock, it swung lightly and almost shivered at the weight of his body. Standing, he tugged his shirt down so that his skin wouldn't show from his messy and useless sleep. Creeping past the few that slept, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back into a slumber – too much going on in his mind already.
Apollo stepped out of the homestead, where Newt had led him before he fell asleep. Told him that this is where everyone slept, further towards the back are where the leaders and keepers slept. Nets made makeshift beds for some, but they all slept just as easily. Not Apollo though. He couldn't sleep. Whether it be the moist hot air, or the sounds of scraping and loud noises beyond the doors that separated the Glade from the Maze – he wasn't sure.
He made his way towards the mess area, the kitchens being on his mind. He must have not been alone in that though. A boy with darker skin, chubbier cheeks, and an apron sat down near the counter on a makeshift stool with half of a sandwich in hand. Hearing Apollo’s footsteps made him look up, a slight purse in his lips as he took in the sight of the Greenie.
“Whatcha doin’ up this early, Greenie?” His voice was soft, but also got to the point.
“Couldn't sleep,” Apollo shrugged a little, walking over leaving a few feet in-between them. He stood awkwardly before the boy, who he hadn't met but had heard from only yesterday. Fry, Apollo remembered his name was.
“Well, take a seat.” He ushered towards a stool off to the side near what looked to be an oven. Sliding it over, Apollo carefully sat down and adjusted accordingly so that he was comfortable. “I'm Frypan.” Frypan. An odd name, but then again Apollo knew better than to judge.
“Apollo—”
“Figured as much, nobody is exactly subtle when remembering their name.. And there's really no secrets in the Glade either.” Frypan grinned a little, holding out his slightly chubby hand. Apollo felt his cheeks warm beneath the boy's gaze, taking his hand they exchanged a firm shake before letting their hands drop again. Frypan set his sandwich down on the counter, he seemed to not give a hoot about what dirt and stuck on foods seemed to be painted across the counter top touching his food. “So.. Ya’ can't sleep, do ya have any questions about that Glade? I know Alby can be a bit straightforward and down to business.”
Apollo hesitated, but nodded and smiled a little. “I seem to remember the small threat about questions.” He chuckled softly, and Frypan grinned a bit. “What's a shank?” Frypan grinned a little more, letting out a small laugh as he rubbed his hands against the apron that hung over his front half.
“Shank.. It's uh.. It's, well, sort of a term of endearment… We came up with these sort of terms that replace fowl words.. Like…Instead of shit – it's Klunk.” Apollo raised a brow, lips quirking into a small smirk.
“Klunk? Do I want to know?”
“‘s the sound that turds make when they hit water.” Frypan snickered.
“Why so touchy about fowl words?”
“Minho,” The boy sat back a little yet not too far as to lean off of his small stool. The darker boy leaned against the counter, resting his arm and moving his weight from his core to his arm instead. “Shank ended up cussing a whole lot when he first arrived – about two months afterwards Newt got tired of it and told us to come up with other words besides that.”
“Newt? Newt got tired of cussing?” Apollo’s lips pulled up into a smirk, brows knitted together in amusement as he held back a laugh. Frypan chuckled.
“Sure as hell did.”
“Alright then, so what about shuck? Is it supposed to replace the word fuck?” Frypan nodded, grinning.
“You’re getting the hang of it, Greenie.. You catch on quick.” It was more obvious than him catching on. Shuck. Fuck. The same words all in all just a little more kid friendly.
“What about you? What are you doing up this early?” Frypan glanced over towards the doors, then back at the newbie as he let out a sigh through his nose.
“It's louder than usual out in the maze.. Not to mention but all Keepers get up pretty early. I do to start preparing meals for the Gladers and the Runners.” Runners. Apollo nodded in understanding, looking towards the doors as well for a moment before looking at Fry.
“Could you use an extra set of hands?” Frypan laughed a little, making Apollo give a confused look. Had he said something wrong?
“Sure. You'll likely help everywhere else as well until they find a decent job that will suit you.” Apollo’s brows raised a little.
“Runners included?” Frypan stared, his lips pulled up into an amused grin.
“You’re kiddin’ right? Greenie?” Apollo stared right back, giving a look that said he wasn't kidding. “No no uh.. Runners are picked, hand picked by their keeper…”
“Minho, so I have to talk to Minho then?” Apollo began to stand, ready to set off to find Minho. Frypan quickly grabbed his wrist, standing and shaking his head a little.
“No, I don't think you understand, Greenie. Nobody wants to be a runner —”
“Nobody wants to be a runner.”
“I do.”
Apollo flinched causing Fry to quickly let his hand drop. Confusion filled Fry’s gaze, he tilted his head a little as he took a step back.
“You okay, Greenie?” Apollo nodded, feeling an ache begin to grow in the back of his head. He didn't move to try and massage that area though – instead looking around a little. What the hell was wrong with him? He could hear people talking, people from the Glade but also another voice. It sounded familiar, yet also foreign. “Alright then.. If you still wanna help, I plan to make eggs and ham for breakfast if you'd like to start getting those out and begin to cut the ham.”
Apollo nodded again. “Where is the uh.. Where's the ham and eggs?” Frypan pointed towards a small chest looking thing.
“If you need more eggs then find Newt and he will show you where the Farm is.”
“Newt's awake?” Apollo almost sounded too excited, Frypans lips tugged into a knowing smirk as a brow raised.
“Sure is, Greenie. If you’d like to go find him now, go for it.. I'll be good here…” Apollo didn't like that smirk. He felt his cheeks grow hot, it was as if Fry knew something that he didn't. “Better yet, here he comes now.” Apollo quickly spun around, and true to his word – Newt was limping his way towards the kitchen with a basket firmly grasped in his hand. As he got closer, Apollo could point out smaller details about the boy. How his Adams apple bobbed a little as he swallowed, how his eyes focused on the ground rather than anywhere else. How his blonde hair stuck up in every which direction and had tints of darker shades of blonde mixed in with small bits of straw and dirt.
Shit.
He blinked, looking away quickly as Newt stopped with a small warm smile.
“Mornin’ Fry… Apollo you’re up early.” Frypan walked closer, taking the basket from Newt's hand and setting it on the counter looking through it with a slight hum.
“You are too,” Apollo shrugged, trying not to look at Newt as he slid his hands into his pockets.
“Second-In-Command has its cons,” Newt reminded. “Nose feelin' alright then?”
“Yeah.. Neck feeling alright?” Newt nodded while looking at Apollo as he stood a bit awkwardly. “Good that.” He heard Newt's small chuckle, and Frypan snorted as he said that. He felt his face burn with slight embarrassment, hearing the two laughing at him. “Did I.. Did I say somethin’ wrong?” He looked up finally, between the two of them while his face burned hotly and his skin noticeably turned red.
“No just— Greenie’s usually don't use Gladers slang until a few months in.” Frypan laughed, Newt grinned as he let out small chuckles and looked between Fry and Apollo (who was struggling against his urge to hide his face and walk into the Maze right now so that it would save him from embarrassment).
“You’re alright, Apollo.. No need to get yourself worked up and embarrassed… It was rather cute – if it's all the same.” Newt smiled, his thick drawl made it only ten times worse for the new boy. He looked down, running his fingers through his hair to push it out of his eyes and try to focus on something other than the two hyenas.
“Hey Fry I—” Gally walked up, stopping as he saw Newt's grin and heard Frypans small giggles as the darker keeper put things away. “Something funny?”
“Green-bean here used Gladers slang,” Fry blurted out, Apollo frowned. If his face could turn brighter red it might've as he saw Gally’s lips pull up into a small grin in his peripheral vision.
* * *
After the whole embarrassing ordeal with Newt, Frypan, and Gally – Apollo found himself near the doors. Newt stood beside him while Minho (and another boy whose name he found out was Ben), stood ready to run for the day. Packs on their backs filled with small weapons, paper, and many other things prepared for the day ahead. If they were lucky they would return early, if not they would end up running until just before the doors closed.
“Alright then, good luck out there...” Newt stood with his hands on his hips, blonde hair swept over his forehead while the start of a thin layer of sweat began to make his forehead shine in the rising sunlight. Many were starting to get up, the faint smell of eggs wafted through the Glade and helped with their waking up. That and the rooster that screeched at the top of its little lungs.
“Good that.. Nice meeting you Green-bean.” Apollo glanced over from staring off into space, meeting Minho's gaze and giving a small nod. He talked to Minho a little, not very much as the Runner seemed rather closed off.
“Make it back safely,” Apollo gave a ghost of a smile as he looked between both runners. Minho nodded, a sly smirk working its way up on his lips.
“Always do, Green-bean.” The doors opened with a low rumble, the gears squealed in their place and the smell of dry taught air filled the air closer to the opening. Minho gave a small salute, while Ben gave a friendly smile as the two ran through the opening. Newt watched for a while until they turned a corner. He turned and looked at Apollo.
“Alright then, Apollo.. Second day here, I think you should start working and helping out around here… I'm thinking the Gardens would work best for you.” With a nod, Newt led the way while Apollo followed.
A messily woven basket held in Apollo’s hands, Newt sat on his knees in front of the boy as he pulled tomatoes from the chicken wire that stood proud and tall. The new boy watched silently, he had a lot on his mind and focused entirely on that rather than tomatoes. Runners being one of them. Less of the people and more of the role and responsibilities that they took on in that entire thing. To run the entire Maze, you had a specified amount of time to go and get back otherwise you were trapped in. But would that be so bad? To be trapped in and to see the Maze change for yourself?
“Ap—”
And Grievers. If no-one lived to tell the tale, how did they know they were out there? Nobody lived long enough to see them.
“Apol—”
And if it changed, how did you know what changed and what didn't? How long had they been running out there? And how did they know how to get back if everything was the same—
He glanced up and was met with Newt's brown eyes, breath catching in his throat he felt as if he were suffocating. The blonde's eyes were narrowed, brows knitted together as a slight frown played on his lips. Apollo took notice of the small bits of dirt that clung to the boy's skin, and the way his bottom lip was slightly torn from probably picking at it or even gnawing away. A nervous habit.
“You keep bloody spacing out on me,” He blinked and brought his gaze up from Newt's lips – feeling his cheeks grow hot for what felt like the hundredth time today alone. Newt must not have taken notice, a sigh leaving his lips. “Why not go fetch me some fertilizer?”
He reached out, not waiting as he took the basket with a few tomatoes rolling in it. Bending down he grabbed another basket, taller and deeper with a small spade shovel in it. Fragments of dirt rolled around in it as well.
“Oh uh..” Basket being pushed into his chest, he grabbed the basket quickly. “Wh.. Where's—”
“Further into the woods.. Just try to grab as much as possible,” Newt said quickly, kneeling back down and continuing to pick tomatoes while placing them into the basket. Apollo sighed, turning on his heel as he began to walk away. The woods loomed over, casting a shadow that cooled his skin.
Feet thumping against the ground, he moved the shovel from the basket into his hand. His fingers wrapped around the handle a bit tightly.
“Right, grab fertilizer Apollo.. Further into the woods Apollo…” He sassed to himself, mocking the thick drawl that Newt had. It darkened as he pushed on further, kneeling down he picked a spot and began to scoop dirt into the basket. Something brighter caught his attention, a small yelp left his lips as he dropped the basket and shovel while backing up falling on his butt.
Bones. A mix between animal bones and something else. Dirt mucked them up, but didn't completely cover. Sticks came from the ground sitting vertically. He followed it up to a small sign that read ‘George’ next to it was another that read ‘Nick’. George and Nick? Who were they?
Apollo stared, unable to tear his gaze away for a good moment until a branch cracked beneath the weight of someone's foot. His eyes darted over quickly, being met with dark pools of brown nothingness.
Fred?