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"You have to be strong, (Y/n). Everything I need you to do is for the greater good. Remember that."
-
"(Y/N)!"
Minho's voice screamed in his face. The boy jolted awake, his body tensing as the blades of the helicopter deafened him. "Wake up! We gotta go! Come on!"
Newt was longer by his side which made (colour) eyes frantically dart around the cockpit. Minho's arms slid under his armpits, pulling the boy up. (Y/n) noticed it was dark now, the night sky clouded. Multiple flashlights shined in his face as Minho helped him off the helicopter towards a large compound. The rest of the Gladers running with guards to it.
His head snapped towards the desert, hearing distant screeches. He heard someone yell, "Cranks!" before Minho dragged him towards the building. Lights shined down on them, locating the cranks that tumbled down the sand dunes. Men with masked faces and guns ran passed, the sand getting kicked up into the air as they passed.
Once they made it inside the large walls, (Y/n) felt a hand wrapped around his forearm. Snapping his head, he saw a familiar blonde which made his eyes dance over the boy's features. Newt wasn't looking at him, the brown eyes were staring at the warehouse that enclosed around them. Men ran from one side to the other, one floor to another.
Suddenly, a man pulled Thomas away from the group, everyone jogging after the two. (Y/n) and Newt limping after them. A door was opened, squeaking as multiple bodies moved next to it.
"What's going on out there!" Thomas asked. His body being forced back as his friends bumped into him.
"Nothing we can't handle!" The man replied, closing the door. As Thomas banged on the door, wanting to be let out, everyone else stood in awe. Before them was a long table, no one could see the surface of it as it was covered in plates of food.
"Dibs on the rice!" Frypan stated quickly before running to the pot. (Y/n) limped through the pain and sat himself in front of (favourite food). The plate shining into the bright lights. The boy could practically feel his stomach screaming for the food.
His hands dug into the food, squeezing it and shoving hands full of it into his mouth. He groaned as his mouth chewed and gulped it down. His hands snatched food from other plates, his face starting to get messy.
"This is much better than Frypan's slop!" Winston exclaimed. Some laughed, many smiled through their stuffed faces. Teresa through some rice at the boy, before Minho fought back. Newt shook his head, his tongue going over his back teeth to get the trapped chicken. His eyes went to (Y/n) seeing the boy finally smile after what felt like forever.
A warm feeling burned in his heart.
-
"I don't know who these guys are but they can cook," Frypan said. The table now abandoned as everyone sat at the back of the room. Full from their large feast.
(Y/n) sat on a pile of sacks, Newt sitting on the floor beside him. Teresa sat in front with Thomas, her eyes drifting to the wooden cat that played in Thomas's hands. The butcher had finally given the curious greenie his prize.
"But who are they really? I mean, we know nothing about them."
"Well, we know that they're no friends of WICKED," Newt responded to the girl. His fingers twisting the elephant around on the rope. Before anyone else could respond, Thomas noticed (Y/n)'s eyes dart to the opening door.
The Gladers turned their attention to it as a man walked through. He wore a leather jacket with a white turtleneck underneath. His pants black and his boots seemed fancy. Well, (Y/n)'s never seen them before. The man lead them through the warehouse, the group following close.
"You can call me Mr. Janson. I run this place. For us it is a sanctuary, safe from the horrors of the outside world. You all should think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes."
"Does that mean you taking us home?" (Y/n) asked. His hand gripped over his wound, the only thing helping him not gasp in pain.
"A home of sorts. Where you can't be touched by WICKED. First we gotta take care of that leg—"
"Why are you helping us?" Minho interrupted. Newt instantly blocking (Y/n) from the man's gaze. He didn't like the glint that came from it. It looked like Janson knew the boy or... who he was.
"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the Flare virus makes you humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target, as no doubt by now you've noticed."
Janson slightly twisted his torso to look at Thomas, leading the group to a door to the 'main access,' from what (Y/n) read on a little blue sign. The man slide a card, a soft beep erupting from the keypad.
"Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives. First things first, let's do something about that smell."
-
(Y/n) leaned against a wall, his hands struggling but successfully taking off his clothes. His shoulders tensing as pain erupted through his body. His figure disappeared into the shower cubicle, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Brown eyes bored themselves into his back, ones he couldn't feel. Newt rested his tongue softly on his top lip. The muscles tensing and rippling through the butcher's back made Newt bite down on his tongue. He felt goosebumps travel down his back, making the boy shake away a feeling and continue to take his own shirt off.
As soon as the curtain was pulled across its pole, (Y/n) studied his wound. He clenched the soft flesh of his thigh with both hands as blood was mixed with warm water. The dirt and grime off his skin swirled around his feet and soon enough, blood dotted the tiles.
"(Y/N)!"
Jack's screams echoed through the boy's head making him sigh and rest his forehead against the tile wall in front. The screams multiplied as the water patted against his skin. Steam that created a suffocation feeling soon felt like a hot blanket.
"I'm sorry..."
-
(Y/n) bit his lip to stop himself from hissing. A needle was slowly injecting liquid into his leg. The doctor told him it would help with the healing process, make it quicker. His eyes were cold when looking at the doctor, assessing her movements. They soon moved to stare at Newt who was getting injected with all the vitamins that the Gladers were lacking.
(Y/n)'s hand snapped to grip onto his doctor's wrist. A vile of purple liquid glinted through the glass. The boy had noticed that he had this certain liquid. All the other trays had blue liquids. (Y/n) watched as the doctor squirmed her wrist out of his grip and gently place it back on the metal tray. The look of fear in her eyes added to his suspicion of this place.
(Colour) eyes swiftly darted around, noticing that all guards and doctors had a weary glint. A guard even had his hand on his gun holster. (Y/n)'s tongue poked his cheek, his eyes looking over the guard.
