The Glade | Newt x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Nine

-Y/N's POV-

A knock. Someone's voice.

"Hey Y/N? Can I come in...?"

It's Frypan. I straighten up in my bed. If anyone saw me in this state they would surely never look at me the same way again. Quickly, I moved my hair out of my eyes where they were sticking damply, and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

"Yeah, come in," my voice comes scratchily but more solid than I expected.

Frypan creaked the door open, when he stepped into the room I saw a tray of some sort in his arms. The tray had an arrangment of breakfast foods, mostly greens and eggs. There was a spot of scrambled eggs, one boiled egg, celery, and fresh strawberries.

"Oh Fry, you didn't have to. Really-"

"No, no. I wanted to. Everyone else has already eaten, so I thought I may aswell," Frypan shrugged as he placed the tray on my lap.

I smiled a thank you as Frypan left the room. The scrambled eggs are softly cooked along with the boiled egg, and I think it may be the best breakfast I've ever eaten. I had skipped dinner last night after the banishment. I'd had no stomach and was surprised I was eating now. But I didn't end up touching any of the celery. I ignored it, pretended I'd always hated how they tasted. The truth was it reminded me of the gardens. And the gardens reminded me too much of him. Newt. I need to find him.

Once I had finished the strawberries,  I got dressed and prepared my running gear. Then I took the tray, and quickly brought it back to Frypan's hut. The sun was already a quarter in the sky and the glade seemed empty. How was it so late already?

"Frypan," I say when I put the tray away, "Where is everyone? Why didn't anyone come get me?"

"Minho wanted you to sleep in," he replied shortly. "Everyone thought it was a good idea."

"What? But I'm supposed to run today?"

"Not in Minho's plans."

"Well, I'm going anyways," I say angrily as I turn to make a sandwhich for my lunch.

"Y/N, I think you should stay today. You look tired..."

"I need to.... I need to go," I say firmly as I finish the sandwhich and shove it into my pack.

I was tired. Last night I had gotten no sleep. I'd stayed up late all night, waiting by the doors. But when morning came, he wasn't there. I'd come into my room and tried to escape through sleep, but ended up crying until Frypan's arrival.

I knew now what I had to do, I'd thought about it all breakfast. There's still a chance he could be alive. He must be... lost. He would have made it back by now if he wasn't.

The slight wind tickles my face as I fill my water canteen. I want to get searching as early as possible. He could be injured.

When I jog through the doors I wonder who was sent into my section today instead of me. I've also heard that the day after a banishment they send out a couple people to see if those banished survived. I push away the nagging thought they would say about 'no one surviving a night in the maze' and let my hope live.

I had entered through the door they had been banished into, but I have no idea where to look now that I'm in it. I decide to just go for it and run in whatever direction I would go if I was in the maze at night.

-Time Skip-

I've been running for hours. Nothing, nothing, nothing. No sight of life or struggle anywhere. Nothing more seems out of place than a couple of ivy strands sprawled across the ground here and there. How could they just be gone like that? It doesn't make sense. I understand the maze walls change every night, but surely it can't wipe away any trace of them struggling against grievers? I would have expected blood, maybe a torn piece of fabric, or at worst a body. Not nothing.

-Time Skip-

I push farther, but still there are no signs of anything having happened overnight. Eventually, I realize the time and know I need to go back to make it before the doors close. When I run back into the glade, Minho is standing by the entrance.

"What do you think you're doing?" Minho says with crossed arms as he walks up to me.

"Just running the maze," I pant. "Isn't that my job?"

Minho shook his head. "You weren't supposed to go in today. And you weren't even in the right section."

I walked past him in the direction of the map rooms. I know what all the gladers are thinking. Their sad eyes burn into my back as I walk away. They think I should be broken. That I should be in my room, mourning, weeping. And maybe I am broken in a way. But I won't let it overtake me when there's still hope. How can they all give up on him like that?

When I reach the map room I sit on the wooden table. I have no mapping information to keep track of anyways.

Soon after sitting, I get up again. I feel antsy, and I'd rather not sit in one spot for too long right now.

When I leave the map room I can see all of the gladers sitting down to eat. But it doesn't look right. Newt was supposed to be there. The trackhoes table looks in disorder, and even the runners are lacking Dominic's teasing presence. I hadn't thought about what would come of the second in command place. Would Alby choose a new glader to accompany him in leadership? The thought of anyone else being second in command other than Newt leaves me uneasy.

I turn away and begin to walk to the homestead and my room. Food didn't sound so pleasant at the moment, even if it was Frypan's stew. Newt loved that stew.

My mind is blank as I enter the homestead and walk up the creaky stairs to my room. But after I shut the door behind me, I look up to unexpected surroundings. I quickly recognize Newt's room in the homestead. It's smaller than mine, and a little cramped. I think I remember during the tour, Thomas saying Newt gave up his bigger bedroom for me the day I arrived.

His room was neatly organized, other than the dirt strayed along the floor from his shoes. There's a straw mattress on a cot, taughtly covered by a rough-spun blanket. A small cabinet fills another corner of the room. I'd always wondered if I would ever get to go into his room, but I never thought that it may occur under these circumstances.

I contemplate turning back, but I can't help myself. Cautiously walking towards the cot, I sit gently on the edge. Everything smells like him. His scent clings to the cot, he smells like lemongrass and it brings me back to afternoons in the garden, planting beans or picking tomatoes with him.

The room feels comforting, until I remember he's not here. That he won't open the door any minute and ask me how my run was.

My eyes move back to the short cabinet in the other corner of the room. When I get up and reach it, my hands waver by the drawer knob. I'm about to reach and open it when a sound ruffles behind me by the cot. Slowly, I turn my head and see him. Standing in the corner of the room, pale, but it's him. His dark brown eyes seem black, but they're full of pity, and... regret? I inhale and sharply turn around completely. Only to see he's disappeared. My body suddenly feels heavy and I fall against the wall for support. I move into a crouch against the wall and wipe my hand over my face. I saw him. Newt was here, in this room. No, no. I'm seeing things... my- my head is making it up. I need to get out of this room. There's too much of him everywhere.

I had quickly left the room to go into my own. My chest hurt. An aching, thrumming hurt. But I knew I could not go to Jeff or Clint for this. For it was not something they could fix. Unless the medjacks unknowingly specialized in emotional pain aswell.