Newt Imagines (The Maze Runner)

Midnight Reassurances

The sun is setting low over the horizon of your new town. The huts and shoddy buildings pause in their relentless scrabble to grow over the land that you only recently discovered, too distracted by the golden glow of dusk to spread any further. Night is setting upon you, a time that would usually fill you with a nagging dread. It still does, in truth, even if you have no reason to feel that same fear. After all, you're out of the Maze, out of the Scorch, away from the Cranks and WICKED and anyone else who would mean you harm. There are no monsters awakening by the time the moon rises in full.

You discovered this island, this paradise, a month or two ago along with the rest of WICKED's immunes and some of the others you'd picked up along the way. You'd all managed to turn this seemingly utopian landscape into something that might almost be a home. You've already started to think of it that way, as a home for you, but the last thing you had to call a home was the Maze, so it's not that hard to pack up your thoughts and nostalgia and move them like shipping crates to the next location. Home to you is anywhere you can lie down and feel shelter, where you can look over and see your friends sleeping safe and sound next to you. So, this town is home. That's that.

All the same, you find yourself drawing apprehension over yourself just a little when the sun sinks beneath the horizon. It's not that you've found any threats in this island other than the occasional inquisitive animal or arguments over how to run the town, but you've spent too long watching your back, simply waiting for death to swoop down and sink its jaws into your throat. There's no way to fully lay out your fear on warm rocks and let it melt away, so you have to keep it with you. Maybe someday it will leave you. Maybe someday you won't flinch at sudden movements, or stare out over the surrounding ocean like you'll see a ship full of Cranks ready to find you again.

Everyone else is long gone, having disappeared off to warmer, shadier spots for the night. You've been standing in the shadows of your own ramshackle hut's door for a while now, watching people trail off into their homes with a soft smile or perhaps someone else's with a smirk. You thought you'd be alone in the city center by now, but no- when you look back over the fire, you can see someone else's silhouette. You recognize it instantly, after a lifetime of seeing him wherever you turn- it's Newt, still standing by the water's edge.

Your gaze softens when you see him. Some days, you have to remind yourself that you're still here, that this isn't a dream, that your friends are still alive for the most part and you're out of the Maze or the Scorch or any number of WICKED's death traps. Honestly, some things about this island make it seem like you've died or simply hallucinated some other story to take your mind off of the absolute hell that had been your life for the last few years.

But no- it's real, all of it. A few hours earlier, you'd seen Minho and Thomas talking together in some of the newly constructed buildings, going over plans for even more renovations and dreams for the town springing up around you. This place kind of reminds you of the Maze, in a way- everyone's got their own jobs to do, and without those few souls working hard, the entire town would fall apart. There are still Med-Jacks and Builders, Track-Hoes and Slicers. There are even Runners still, men and women selected to jog around the length of the island to figure out how far the coastline goes (very far), if there are any people here other than your group (there aren't), and if there are any new threats being developed (probably not, unless you lose your mind and try to challenge a bear to a fight).

Minho and Thomas aren't among them. Instead, they've joined Gally, Newt, and yourself along with other friends you'd picked up along the way, attempting to use their experience in the Maze to guide this struggling community. It surprised you at first, how many of these fully grown adults had no idea what to do now that they weren't propped up by a pre-constructed society. Then again, not everyone got the wonderful chance to live in a hellish Maze guarded by Grievers, so you suppose you can't expect survival knowledge from everyone.