The Maze Runner Preferences

Their Thoughts When You Get Lost In The Maze

A/N: Suggested by Kate-IchiSan . Songs are to go with them, as usual. Newt's one is one of my favourite songs ever, so if you listen to one, make it that one.

Gally:

The doors had closed and you were gone. Lost to the maze.

Gally had been pacing all afternoon, but he no longer had the energy to move. He knelt in front of the doors, staring at the ground. It was as if the world had just stopped the moment he'd heard the news, and he'd been trying to keep it going. He'd kept moving to try to start it up again. He'd tried to keep the world turning, tried to get life to go on.

Because this place just didn't make sense without you in it.

His vacant stare rested upon the grass in front of him, and his mind was void of any thought. He was numb.

He was so numb that he didn't even notice the tears falling. He didn't notice the tracks they left on his cheeks or the puddle they'd formed on the ground below him.

He didn't want to feel them. He wanted to feel nothing. Nothing at all.

So he knelt there. He knelt and waited.

He waited for the world to start turning again.

Minho:

The second he'd seen the doors close, he erupted, pushing aside anyone who got in his way. He didn't stop when they yelled at him. He didn't stop when they tried to pull him back. He ran deep into the Deadheads. He didn't stop until he reached the far wall.

And even then, he didn't really stop.

He lashed out, ripping off one of the tree branches and launching it at the wall. It smashed into pieces.

He did it again, yanking off another branch of the same size. He threw it at the wall with the same force, splintering upon impact.

He did it again. And again. He did it until he couldn't any more. He did it until his legs gave out. He did it until his arms stopped working. He did it until he was drenched in sweat.

Only then did he stop, collapsing to the ground in defeat.

He'd lost you.

It was his fault.

Newt:

He tried to remain level-headed. He tried to think forward, plan his next move. He tried to keep the Glade in order. Order was what he needed. He needed security; he needed reliability. He needed organisation.

And when Alby asked him if he was okay, Newt said 'yes'. He said 'yes', because if he said anything else, he'd lose control.

And he just couldn't do that.

Order. Organisation. Poise.

He had to keep it all together.

He couldn't acknowledge it: the fact that you were gone. If you were gone, it all fell apart. If you were really gone, he couldn't keep it together any more.

So he ignored it. He focussed on order. He kept things in control. He kept the Glade together. He kept it all together.

Because that's all that kept him from falling apart.

Thomas:

He didn't believe it. He couldn't understand why everyone else was so dissmissive.

Why didn't they do anything? Why didn't they plan a search party? How could they be so selfish?

He knew what he'd do tomorrow, even if he was too late. He knew he had to go out there. He needed to know what happened. He needed to know. That would be enough.

Because right now, not knowing just made him angry.

Not knowing made him want to know more. To know everything.

And the only way to do that was to get out. The only way was to escape.

Then would come his revenge.