Maze runner one shot requests

Ben---Newt imagine

Tw for slight physical fighting and minor injury

You barely flinch as another shriek sounds from the med-jack hut.

You don't know which is worse, the fact that something could make that inhuman wail, or that you were almost used to it.

Ben had been stung.

He was going to live, at least that's what you and the other med-jacks agreed on, but he was going through the changing.

But he would live.

You braced yourself slightly, before opening the med-jack hut door.

Clint and Jeff immediately came out, both relieved their turn with Ben was over.

They stopped outside the door, addressing you.

"(Y/N), are you sure you can deal with him yourself?"

You nod.

"Guys, I've done this before, remember?"

Another shriek from inside.

"Yeah, but not alone. . ."

That part was true. Usually it was the three of you dealing with the shanks unlucky enough to have to go through the changing. You tried to shrug it off.

"I'll be fine, plus, Newt's going to come by later."

Clint grinned, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Mhmm. Purely for professional purposes, I'm sure."

You blush a deep scarlet.

"Well, obviously!"

It was no secret that you and Newt were together.

You had both tried to keep it a secret. . .that lasted about two days.

Jeff smirked.

"Sure. Anyway, try not to burn down the hut."

You mock salute.

"Sir, yes, sir"

Jeff gained a false arrogant expression, pointing his hand at you.

"That's general to you."

You laughed as they walked away, both waving over their shoulders. I mean, you had to have grown close staying inside a small hut all day, waiting for someone to come in.

A loud, ghostly wail sounded from inside, and you cringed a little before opening the door.

The air inside the hut was stuffy and stale, an unpleasant contrast to the open air outside.

You might have put in some windows, except you knew no one wanted to see what happened in the changing.

Or hear what happened.

But, everyone always did hear the screaming.

Always.

Maybe you could ask the box for some ear plugs. . .

Another shorter, softer scream cuts off your thoughts.

Your eyes focused on Ben, laying on a cot, the large knots of greenish white veins pulsating, his whole body slack.

For a sickening moment, you thought the slackness meant death, and you rushed to his side.

You grab his wrist, feeling for a pulse-

You sigh in relief.

There was a pulse, he wasn't dead.

Wasn't dead.