One shots

Maze Runners - In the Quiet of the Glade

The stars above the Glade twinkled against the inky black sky, scattered like tiny flecks of light. The faint hum of crickets filled the air, and the night was calm, peaceful. But despite the stillness of the night, I couldn't quiet the storm inside my chest.

I lay on my back, staring up at the sky, trying to make sense of everything. Of the Maze, of WCKD, of why we were all here. And of the weight that seemed to settle heavier on my shoulders every day. Beside me, I could hear the rustle of grass as Newt shifted, his presence a comforting anchor in the overwhelming uncertainty.

"You think the stars ever get tired of looking down at us?" Newt's voice broke the silence, soft and contemplative.

I turned my head to glance at him. He was lying beside me, his arms folded behind his head, his gaze fixed upward. There was something peaceful about him in moments like this, a calmness that contrasted so sharply with the chaos we were constantly surrounded by. It was one of the things I admired most about him—his ability to find quiet in the middle of all this madness.

I chuckled softly, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "If they do, they've got a long way to go before they get a break."

Newt turned his head to meet my gaze, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes, however, were serious, reflecting the same exhaustion I felt. We didn't need to say it out loud, but we both knew. We were tired—of running, of fighting, of losing people. But we kept going, because what choice did we have?

"You're thinking too much again," he said, his voice a little softer now, more personal.

I huffed, glancing back up at the stars. "Can't help it. Everything feels so... impossible sometimes. Like we're never going to make it out of this."

There was a pause, the kind of silence that stretches between two people who know each other well enough that words aren't always necessary. Then, I felt Newt's hand brush against mine, a quiet, steady presence that spoke louder than anything he could say.

"Thomas," he began, and I could hear the weight of his words, the careful way he chose them. "It's not about making it out. Not anymore. It's about surviving long enough to figure out what we're fighting for."

I turned my head again, my gaze catching his. There was something raw in his expression, something that made my chest tighten. Newt had always been the one who held us together, the one who kept us grounded when everything else was falling apart. But even he couldn't hide the cracks forever.

"We'll find a way," I said quietly, and I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

Newt's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was there nonetheless. "Yeah. We always do, don't we?"

We lapsed into silence again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that comes after too many battles fought together, after too many close calls, too many goodbyes. It was a silence that spoke of trust, of a bond that went deeper than words.

After a while, Newt shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze still fixed on me. His expression had softened, but there was an intensity in his eyes that I hadn't seen before, something unspoken hanging between us.

"Thomas," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "If something happens to me..."

"Don't," I cut him off, sitting up and shaking my head. "Don't talk like that. Nothing's going to happen to you."

His hand reached out, gripping my arm firmly, grounding me. "Just listen, alright? You've got to promise me something."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "What?"

"If things go south... if I lose myself, or if this whole mess gets worse, I need you to keep going. Don't wait for me. Don't stop because of me."

His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. The thought of losing him, of having to go on without him—it was too much to even consider. But the look in his eyes told me he was serious. Deadly serious. And I couldn't bring myself to lie to him.

"I'm not leaving you behind," I said, my voice hoarse.

Newt's grip on my arm tightened for a moment before he let out a soft sigh, his expression softening. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"

I tried to smile, but it felt hollow. "Takes one to know one."

For a moment, we just sat there, the weight of everything pressing down on us. The Glade around us was peaceful, the stars twinkling overhead as if nothing was wrong. But we knew better. We always did.

Finally, Newt leaned back, resting his head on his hand as he looked up at me. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together. Deal?"

I nodded, my chest tight with the weight of unspoken promises. "Deal."