Free (Maze Runner fanfic Newtmas Newt x Thomas)

Chapter 1

The next day, Thomas wasn't wanting to talk to anyone, more pissed than anything else. He ran with Minho, branching off to search his own section of the maze, cutting down vines and noting which walls had changed.

After a couple of hours, he stopped running to take a break. He turned round to double check which corner he'd come, but.. the vines were gone. I could've sworn I just cut some down... He thought to himself. He turned the other way, but there weren't any on the walls that way.

Walking slowly, Thomas went back round the corner he came and noticed the vines were gone from there too. Did he really forget to cut any down? If he went any further he'd probably get lost; so, to make sure he got back in time and didn't annoy Alby, he started his way back.

Suddenly, a deafening grinding sound started all around him. Thomas covered his ears as the walls began to shake in place and... and move!? All the walls around Thomas began to change, forward backward and through each other as if they had invisible slots to pass through.

The ground shook from it all and ivy fell off the walls. Stones rained down, most of the bits of rubble but some larger chunks too.

Thomas ran.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, but he just wasn't fast enough. A rock fell and hit the side of his head, sending him to the ground. For a moment he lay watching the world spin, but he closed his eyes, unconscious.

~*~

Newt wandered the Glade, doing the usual duties of checking everything was in order; it was boring, but the garden had been tended to and now there was nothing else to do, no exhausted to go bother and Alby was busy. Checking the kitchen, he discovered Frypan wasn't there so he reached up to steal a biscuit.. when the walls started moving.

The doors can't be closing.. But it's the middle of the day! Newt thought, shoving a biscuit in his pocket and running outside. Other gladers had already gathered to watch, but the weirdest part was the doors being open; it was the walls inside, but the doorways stayed open as normal.

Within minutes, two runners came back, Phil and Michael. "The walls are moving!" Michael shouted, coming to a quick halt in front of Alby and tried catching his breath. "We got worried the doors would be closed, or we'd get lost so we ran back as soon as it started..."

More minutes passed but the walls eventually stopped and the peaceful silence returned. It was still only late afternoon, and according to his watch, they had an hour before the walls closed. Only four out of their nine current runners had returned, but Newt and the others assumed they decided to keep running rather than hoping they weren't lost. Newt just hoped Thomas would make it back safely.. "Newt! Gally called, coming over to him.

"What is it?" Newt grumbled, looking a different way.

"What's with the walls moving?"

"How the shuck am I meant to know? I'm not a runner anymore, I just watched like everyone else. Go ask one of the runners who came back already." Newt hated how he treated Thomas, so he tended to be very blunt with him.

Gally tsked and walked off, presumably to find one of the runners. Newt walked into the forest, making sure he went back far enough that nobody would find him too easily. He sat down on the grass and sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his chin in his hands. Over the past week or so, and with Thomas' ego boost, Newt had grown strong feeling for the teen that he couldn't explain.

His enchanting eyes.. Soft hair despite running all the time.. His enthusiasm to leave.. And his smile! Newt whacked his leg. No! "Bloody hell..." He whispered to himself.

What did he expect? He was totally gay for Thomas, there wasn't any point of hiding it from himself; but really, you couldn't expect fifty boys to live together in harmony without a relationship or two.

It was strange, though, when Thomas had first been pulled out the box, a huge wave of familiarity and affection hit Newt so hard he almost cried. Since, he'd been trying to figure out what it was, or if he could remember anything about him.

He was interrupted by Minho calling his name, presumably looking for him. Newt stood and quickly ran out the forest, smacking right into Minho. "Shuck it, Minho!" He yelled, rubbing where their heads collided. "What is it? You find something."

Minho shook his head. "Is Thomas back yet? We got all the other runners accounted for expect that shank. Don't think he got caught up in the maze, do you? Isaac got hit by a rock so the medjacks are looking him over, but thankfully it didn't hit his head.

Panic shot up Newt's spine and he briefly stuttered. "N-no, if he's here then I haven't seen him. What happened out there!? All we saw was the bloody walls moving."

"That's exactly it though, the vines were falling and walls were going through each other. Stones were falling from who knows where because I certainly didn't see no crumbling walls or cracks in them. I checked on my way back!"

"Well I'm sure he'll be back before the walls close. If he ain't, then it's not like he can't fend for himself out there."

~*~

When Thomas woke up, the sky was black. There was creaking, squelching, mechanical sounds coming from nearby. Grievers. Had they not found him yet? Was he dead already? Was he taken somewhere by them?

Slowly, he sat up. No grievers were in the corridor he currently sat in, but there was definitely at least one just round one of the corners. Thomas quickly scuffled to the nearest wall, trying to feel for ivy or some loose rocks but he couldn't feel or see any. Even up the top, the walls were completely bare, like a clean slab of stone.

He felt where the rock hit his head and he hissed in pain; it felt rather large, and blood had dried in his hair as well as down the side of his head but it stopped by his ear, a patch on the ground.

Thomas couldn't climb the walls, he couldn't throw stones.. Even though he knew the doors were closed, he didn't know how he'd even make it back to them at this rate, and staying in one spot had a very high chance of sudden death. Running and avoidance was an option, he did that with Minho, but he was already tired and he wouldn't last the night.

He had two knives in his pockets, so he pulled them out and headed down the corridor. He heard the griever before he saw it, but since it wasn't a junction, Thomas' only choice was to turn and try the other direction, or try and get past this one. "Hey ugly!" He yelled, the griever turning round and screeching at him.

It pushed itself off the wall and ran at him at full force, mouth agape and pinchers at the ready. Thomas waited... waited... Jump!

Thomas leapt to the side and ducked under one of its legs before running on ahead and darting round the right corner. If he kept to following the right wall, he'd eventually reach the cliff and he knew every pattern back from memory. He just had to make it.

Dodging left and right, fighting out of a griever's grip, clothes torn from near hit and misses, bruised skin, bloody hands from scraping the wall, scrapes all up his arms from hitting the walls every sharp turn he took... But he made it. He made it to the cliff.

The sun was rising behind them, high enough that Thomas knew the doors would be open... But the walls hadn't moved again, and the grievers were still here. If he hung around too long, his friends would get attacked too. The grievers weren't going anywhere, a whole swarm them starting to surround him, forcing him to stand on the ledge.

He looked up at the walls, desperately looking for something, anything! A lone piece of ivy, a crack in the wall, a small hole to use as a ledge, a doorway!? It was hopeless, there was only one way left to go. Dead ahead. It was jump to his death or run straight into death's mouth.

With a loud cry, Thomas pushed himself forward with the wall and ran straight into the group of awaiting grievers.