Subject A11 - Newt x Reader

ɪᴍᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ

A warm trickle down your cheek woke you, and a blaring throb greeting you as soon as you open your eyes. You were in the Med-Jack Hut, surrounded by none other than the pair of leads, and the Med-Jacks themselves. The boys were murmuring about you, but the Med-Jack you know to be Jeff asks you to follow his fingers, and you do so easy.

"She's only a bit dizzy. Looks like she's all there, though. She just needs some adjustin' to the light." Jeff turns to the bowl of warm water to your side, squeezing out excess dirt and blood from your small wound.

"You took a nasty fall, Greenie, yet you still got up to fight a third round, huh." Alby furrowed his brows in concern, watching you cover your eyes with your hands.

"Where is he?" You groan, trying to contain the ringing in your ears to a minimum while voices echo around you.

"Who? Gally? Now's not exactly the time for some revenge, (Y/N)." You recognize Newt's voice, but nothing gets through to you in this moment of clarity. You had to talk to him. The one you remember, the one you knew.

"P-please. I need to talk to him. Take me to him," you start, rising from the bed with a wince.

"Woah there," hands push you back, down to the bed, "you just woke up, how 'bout some water before going all shucking crazy."

"Yea, you're right." You push their hands, straightening your back against the hut, beckoning to the water sitting on the table across the room from your bed.

Jeff nods, walking away. Alby and Newt return to their earlier conversation, arms crossed along their chests, engulfed on their own. You take a breath, feeling that surge of adrenaline once more as you jump up, avoiding their grasps at you. In no time, you are running out the hut, towards the Builders. Shouting can be heard behind you, but you focus on Gally, who has little reaction time before you tackle him to the ground, pinning him between you and the dirt.

"Shuck, Greenie. . . I thought you were comatose with how long you'd been out." He gasps for breath, panic spreading across his face as he lays - trapped.

"You were there, Gally. You were in the storage room. You were-" You speak so quickly, he can barely keep up.

Two pairs of hands grab a hold of your shoulders, pulling you off of him, but you continue to scream out your flashbacks, trying your best to get through to him. It wasn't until you recite what you heard in the flashback, the reason for your urgency, that the Glade is engulfed in silence, and the hands stop pulling you away from the Builder's Hut.

"What did you just say?" Gally spoke softly, a shakiness heard in his voice.

"I said, you're my brother. I heard it. I saw it. I spoke it. All in the flashback. You, Gally, are my brother."

***************

A year and then some pass since those memories of Gally resurfaced, and you solidified your position as third Med-Jack. You managed, bandaged, and reprimanded all the Gladers, and especially catered to the Runners and Slicers themselves, who routine the Medical Hut more than often. Many Gladers came and left, and you had more than enough experience with the dead and dying, the Changing, and morbidly simple deaths like sickness. The Deadheads were a place you frequented, especially after the Med-Jack who usually threw them out there recently underwent the Changing himself.

You got along well with most of the boys, especially Alby, who confided in you regularly. Newt had been right when he said he was soft, but not for the reason he thought. Rather, you and Alby got along well in other ways as well. Much to the dismay of certain Gladers, you had become quite the item. Gally seemed to have no issue, and actually encouraged you both to get together. Speaking of, your brother had grown fond of your relationship, truly stepping into the sibling role, as well as Keeper of the Builders. You would eat lunch together, and even quarrel as siblings do, as you remembered.