She Was Their Cure (Rewritten) - A Maze Runner Fanfiction

The New Greenie

Two years had passed since Aurora vanished into the Maze, and life in the Glade had settled into a dark rhythm. The boys who remained were no longer the naive group they once were—each day weighed heavily on them. The Glade had become a well-oiled machine, its routines sharp and efficient, but there was a hollowness that clung to the air.

Newt, who now walked with a permanent limp, was no longer a Runner. He had taken on other responsibilities, but his gaze always lingered on the Maze's entrance each time the doors opened. Minho continued to lead the Runners, though the fire in his eyes had dimmed since Aurora's disappearance. Even Gally, who had been hard as stone before, had changed. He still carved names into the wall, but no one had seen him break down like he did that day at Aurora's Spot.

The glade had new faces too. Greenies had come and gone—boys who had arrived, wide-eyed and terrified, only to harden into survivors just like the others. Life went on, but nothing had been the same since that fateful day.

And then, it all changed again.

The sound of the Box clanging echoed across the Glade, drawing the boys' attention toward the metal shaft in the center of their world. It was a noise they were all familiar with, signaling the arrival of another Greenie. The usual hum of curiosity buzzed through the air, but it was tinged with something darker this time.

Newt stood off to the side, leaning heavily on his good leg as the lift rattled to a stop. He glanced over at Minho, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The arrival of a new Greenie wasn't the same anymore—not after Aurora. Still, it was part of the routine, part of the Glade's never-ending cycle.

Alby, their leader, was the first to approach the Box. He peered down, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the boy inside.

The Greenie was sprawled out, disoriented, his clothes dusty and rumpled. His face was a mask of confusion, eyes wide as he blinked up at the sunlight filtering into the shaft. Just like every boy before him, this one was terrified, and understandably so. He had no idea where he was or why.

"Get him up," Alby ordered, motioning for a few of the boys to haul the new kid out of the Box.

The Gladers moved quickly, pulling the boy onto solid ground. He stumbled to his feet, his body shaky as he tried to get his bearings. His eyes darted around wildly, taking in the towering walls of the Maze, the watchful faces of the Gladers, and the strange world he had just been thrust into.

Newt watched from the side, his jaw tight. He knew the look on the Greenie's face—it was the same one every boy had when they first arrived. But something about this one was different. The fear was there, sure, but there was also something else. Something deeper, more intense.

"Who the hell is that?" Gally muttered under his breath, standing next to Newt with his arms crossed. His eyes were cold, but his curiosity was undeniable.

"No idea," Newt replied softly, his gaze never leaving the boy. "But he's just like the rest of us. Lost."

The Greenie stood there, his chest heaving as he took deep breaths, trying to make sense of everything. His dark hair was messy, his eyes sharp but confused. He looked... ordinary. But there was something in the way he carried himself, something that set him apart from the others who had come before him.

Alby stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding. "What's your name, Greenie?"

The boy stared at him, blinking rapidly, his mouth opening and closing as though he were struggling to find the words. He shook his head slightly, confused. "I... I don't know," he stammered, his voice raw and shaky. "I don't... remember."

"Typical," Minho muttered under his breath, arms folded as he leaned against one of the nearby structures. "None of 'em ever do."

The boy looked around again, his panic rising. "Where am I? What... what is this place?"

Alby exchanged a glance with Newt before answering. "Welcome to the Glade."

The explanation that followed was routine—Alby explaining the basic rules, the structure of their world, the purpose of the Glade, and the constant looming threat of the Maze. The new kid, still reeling, could only nod in response, absorbing the information with wide eyes.

"You'll get used to it," Alby said with a shrug, though his tone was anything but comforting. "We all did."

The Greenie looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, but something kept him steady. He squared his shoulders, his gaze hardening as he listened to the explanation. He wasn't ready to fall apart—not yet, at least.

As the day went on, the new Greenie was shown around the Glade. He was introduced to the other boys, though most of them gave him a wide berth, letting him adjust in his own time. He was told about the various jobs, the daily tasks that kept the Glade running. But the Maze—that was the part that kept pulling at his attention. Each time he caught sight of the massive stone walls, his gaze lingered, a mixture of curiosity and dread swirling in his eyes.

Later that evening, the Greenie sat alone by one of the small fires, staring into the flames. His brow was furrowed, and though he said nothing, it was clear he was lost in thought.

Newt approached quietly, limping over and taking a seat next to him. He didn't say anything for a long time, just sat there, letting the silence stretch between them.

Finally, the boy spoke, his voice low. "It doesn't make any sense," he muttered, almost to himself. "Why can't I remember anything?"

"That's normal," Newt said, his voice quiet but firm. "None of us could when we first got here. Your memory'll come back in bits and pieces, but... some things you might never remember."

The Greenie looked up at him, his eyes searching Newt's face for answers. "How long have you been here?"

"Too long," Newt replied with a bitter smile. "Long enough to know that it doesn't get easier."

The boy glanced toward the Maze, his expression unreadable. "And that?" he asked, nodding toward the towering walls in the distance. "What's in there?"

Newt's smile faded. His eyes darkened, the weight of everything he had lost pulling at him once again. "Trouble," he said softly. "That's all you need to know."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. The boy's mind was still racing, trying to make sense of the world he had been thrust into, but something told him that whatever was beyond those walls... it was more dangerous than he could possibly imagine.

As the night deepened, Gally stood by the wall on the far side of the Glade, carving yet another name into the stone. The boy's arrival had stirred something in him—a reminder of how long they had been trapped here, of all the faces that had come and gone.

With a heavy heart, Gally carved the Greenie's name into the wall. Another name. Another soul trapped in this endless nightmare.

As he stared at the fresh carving, his thoughts wandered back to Aurora, to the unfinished line next to her name. He still hadn't crossed it out. He couldn't. Some part of him still believed she might return, that maybe, somehow, she was out there, waiting to be found.

But even that hope was fading.

Gally ran a hand over the stone, his fingers tracing the names he had carved over the years. So many lost. So many gone.

And now, there was one more.

Another lost soul in the Maze.