Thominewt oneshots

six

A/N: So I kinda dropped off of the face of the earth for four months.  I deeply apologize.  My life's been pretty hectic lately and I just wasn't really feeling the inspiration to write or even type up this old, really bad fic I wrote before the writer's block hit.  I haven't forgotten about the request I've gotten; I was brainstorming ideas for it in class (after I finished the work, of course) and I almost have a coherent idea.  It's going to be pretty long so it won't be here since this is, yknow, a collection of oneshots.

Anyways!  I wrote this a really long time ago.  It's a Newtmas fic based off of the song The River of Dreams by Billy Joel.  It's not my best work and it's my first time doing a fic based off of a song, so I apologize.  Hopefully the inspiration comes back and I can write an actually good oneshot sometime soon...I'll definitely start writing the other fic tonight or tomorrow, and I'll start updating once I have a few chapters prewritten.  Sorry for the ramble, let's move on to the story.

WARNINGS: failed s****de attempt, depression, one light swear, bad writing

In the middle of the night

I go walking in my sleep

From the mountains of faith

To the river so deep

Newt opened his eyes.  For a moment, he looked around, confused.  Why am I not in my hammock? he wondered, before he registered his surroundings.  He was in the Deadheads, sitting next to the graves of the boys who had died.

After the first incident with George, he had tried not to think too much about them-the deaths.  But here, alone in the forest with the memories of those who had once been, it was too much.

Everyone said to have faith, that they'd find a way out, but Newt was a Runner.  He'd seen the Maze with his own eyes.  He knew that it was inescapable-and even if they got out, how many more would have to die before they did?

As he started walking back to his hammock, an idea crept into his mind, and he chewed his lip and mulled it over.  He had a day off later that week, so it's not like the Maze wouldn't get mapped properly if he timed it right.

Newt smiled faintly as he slipped back into the realm of dreams.  He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it earlier.  He only had a few days to go, and then he'd be free forever.

I must be looking for something

Something sacred I lost

But the river is wide

And it's too hard to cross

The next morning was a bad day.  For some reason, Newt's mind kept focusing on the Gladers' memory loss-specifically, his own.  He felt empty inside.  Without his memories, who was he?

Nobody.  He was just an empty shell, a body devoid of the most sacred thing of all-a spirit.  A sense of self.

Newt was so lost in thought that he didn't look where he was going, and soon enough, he had tripped and sprawled on the floor of the Maze.  He let out a pained yelp but didn't move.  He was still too lost in his thoughts, trying desperately to remember something, anything at all.  He knew he must've had a life before.

But there was nothing.  It was as if he was standing at the edge of a canyon, close enough to see the other side but too far to cross.  He knew that he had had friends, family-he must have, right?-but he couldn't bridge the gap and envision their faces.

No, Newt decided.  Not a canyon.  A river of dreams-the only thing that even came close to offering him snippets of memories.

Finally standing up again, he started to jog at a steady pace.  Dreams, memories, there was no time for either.  The only thing in his life was the Maze.