We Didn't Start the Fire - Book 1 (Newt x OC) (Maze Runner)

Chapter 3 - Stories and Memories

 "What's going on?" Thomas whispered to Newt.

"Just listen," he said without taking his gaze off of Plune as she sat on one of the logs placed in a circle around the fire.

"Once, there was a great city," she started. "Towers loomed taller than the trees that were placed every few feet on the sidewalks. Music played and a multitude of smells flooded the streets, making the city seem alive. There were carts and stalls set up, buildings with stores and restaurants, all the merchants smiling at their customers. One day, a family walked down these streets, the little boy racing ahead while his mother called for him to slow down, a smile on her face. But the little boy didn't," she said, looking over at all the boys as she told her story. "Finally, he stopped in front of the most incredible store he had ever seen. Inside was filled with-"

"What? What was inside?" Chuck asked and the other boys groaned and told him to be quiet while she only laughed.

"Inside, there were rows of toys. Colorful yellow rubber ducks, red trucks, giant stuffed animals softer than anything you could imagine. The little boy dragged his older sister up and down the rows, pointing out everything he saw as if she couldn't see them too. Suddenly, he stopped talking and just stood still."

"Why?"

"Chuck!'' Everyone let out as Alby, Newt, and Plune smiled.

"He had found something that fascinated him," Plune explained, looking at Chuck. "A cylinder tube with small, plastic pieces inside. He held it up, placing one of the ends to his eye and turning the top part. He was convinced that he had stepped into another world that was only full of colors and shapes, patterns and designs that could only be created once and then they were gone. From then on, the boy could never be seen without it. He always had it in his pocket or bag, even though he annoyed everyone with his tales and ideas of what was really inside. Stories of aliens in space, knights and dragons, and anything else his mind could make up. See, he didn't believe that it was just pieces of plastic, he thought it was a way to see into other universes, other worlds."

"What other stories did he tell?"

"Stories for another night," she told Chuck and he groaned, the others telling each other goodnight and heading back to their hammocks.

"Plune?"

"Yes, Chuck?" she smiled down at the boy.

"What was the toy called?

"What?" she asked, her smile faltering.

"The toy with all the colors. What was it called?"

"I..." She looked away from him as she tried to remember. "I don't know. What do you think?" she asked, putting a smile back on her face as she looked at him.

"A viewer. Since he thought he could see other worlds."

"I think that's a good name," she whispered.

"I wish we had one of those here. So we could see other places," he said sadly.

"Well, we have something almost as good. Look up." They both turned their faces up towards the sky, seeing the multitudes of stars. "The stars make patterns and shapes that your mind can turn into stories and give you hope. A viewer for the entire world."

He smiled, giving her a hug. "Goodnight, Plune."

"Goodnight, Chuck." She watched him go back to his hammock before returning to her room in the Homestead where each Keeper had their own room. She changed out of her clothes and into a pair of shorts and a tank top, placing her dirty ones in a pile. She looked at one of the walls as she took out her dutch braid bun, combing through her hair with her hand.

"That was an incredible story, love," Newt said as he came in, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck as she continued to stare at the wall in front of her.

"I can't remember, Newt."

"Remember what, love?" She turned in his arms, making him look up and into her eyes.

"What it was called. The toy. I... I can't remember."

"Plune," he said gently, "most of us can't remember anything, let alone a toy."

"But... I should know. And I thought it was a story, but it's not."

"I know. The stories like that, the ones about cities, aren't. Haven't you noticed? You come up with the other stories you tell, but the ones with cities... They're your story."

She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Why can't I remember then?"

"Your memory has holes, but at least you have a memory." He took her hand and led them to sit on the bed.

"It's weird," she admitted as he stood up, changing clothes as she continued to talk. "The things I do remember. Random stories, facts... I guess when the Creators took my memories away, I held on to the ones most important to me. And they just... come back. Sometimes, I don't know they're a memory for a while. I just think it's another story that I'm coming up with." She put a hand to her forehead, taking in a breath as she felt a sharp pain.

"Well, now we know it's definitely a memory," Newt said as he came back to the bed in just his boxers and white tank top, his voice level lowering.

"Yeah. I guess memories come with a price," she mumbled out as she kept her eyes closed to manage the oncoming headache.

"Is it worth it?" he asked, laying down.

She opened her eyes, turning to look at him before laying down with him. "Yes. No." She sighed. "I'm lucky enough I get to remember my brother. What he looks like, sounds like... He's the reason I want to get out of here. Why I make sure things work. But at the same time, it hurts to remember him because I can't have him. And I don't even remember my parents. They're more of an idea, or a concept, than a memory. Like shapes floating in the kaleidoscope." She froze, a smile coming to her face. "Kaleidoscope," she breathed out before looking back at Newt. "That's what it was called. My brother's toy. It was a kaleidoscope."

He gave her a sweet kiss. "The things you remember," he said softly, "you meant to hold onto. There's no other way it makes sense. When the Creators took away your memories, you fought them. You fought to keep yourself. You're a fighter. And that's one of the things I love about you."

She leant forward and kissed him. "I love how you fight for me. Whether it's pushing to me or pushing to get through to me, I love you for it."

He smiled sweetly at her before her head came to rest under his chin and he intertwined their legs. "Goodnight, Plune."

"Goodnight, Newt."

***

"I know it's a lot," Plune smiled at him gently as they sat a few feet away from the bonfire. "It'll get better."

"Does it?" he asked doubtfully. "I see the tension."

"Everyone processes at their own rate. It's just taking some people a little longer," she glanced over at where Stephen sat, drinking his glass of Gally's concoction. "It's just making a couple people a little nervous, is all. It'll blow over within a few days," she said, knocking her shoulder into his. He gave a small smile. "Well," she sighed, "you've got a big day tomorrow. Get some sleep, Greenie." She gave him a smile before standing and starting to walk away.

"Thanks, Plune. For everything today."

"No problem. Night, Greenie."

"Newt," he told her and she cocked her head. "My name. My name is Newt."

She smiled. "Goodnight, Newt."

"Goodnight, Plune."

Sorry this is a few days late. I hope you enjoyed though! Sorry my story wasn't overly entertaining, but I needed it for the plot lol.