Finality | The Maze Runner / Newt ³ ✓

{0.5}

Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but HOLY CRAP GUYS THE FEVER CODE!!!

-✼-

"Dylan, Can you do a little countdown for me? Starting from ten."

The anesthesia was taking effect fairly quickly, causing the bright light above my bed to blind me. I blinked woozily and discovered my eyelids wanting to stick together. The world was turning blurry like there were layers of saran wrap over my eyes, senses dulling as sleep became more and more inviting.

"Ten..." The word was struggling to come out already. "Nine... what's going to happen to me?"

Dr. Mason's increasingly distorting figure hovering over me gently placed a hand on my cheek. The plastic glove glided against my skin. "You'll be fine, sweetheart. Just keep counting."

"Eight. Se...ven...." I was suddenly struck with the memory of us counting after going through the Flat Trans, when Theo had said the number in Spanish instead of English. I felt tears pricking at my eyes. "Oh, God."

"Dylan, you need to calm down," Dr. Mason advised, but all I could hear was my brother's voice coming out of her mouth. He had said those exact words to me when we first showed up in the Glade. Why were all of those memories resurfacing now? "It's important you stay relaxed. Go on."

"Six." My mouth turned in a frown as my vision blurred further, but this time because of more tears. A lump was lodged in my throat. To make matters worse, I began to realize how absolutely terrified I was. My heart was racing faster than my lungs could keep up with. "I - I can't. I can't! I--"

"Doc, shut her down," an unfamiliar voice commanded sharply, causing my eyes to snap toward the source. I couldn't see anything except the ceiling extending in that direction.

"But she's not calm," Dr. Mason argued. "It could—"

"I don't care! Shut her down or I'll do it myself."

Dr. Mason swallowed thickly and slowly reached for a switch beside my IV stand. I felt my eyes widen as her finger inched closer and closer to it. What did they mean by "shut her down"?

"I'm sorry." Her words echoed in my head and I was out just like that.

...Only to wake mere seconds later and be met with light. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I realized I was lying on a hard surface and the ceiling was white. My first thought was, The Trials. They put me in the room again, forcing me to—

That suspicion erased itself from my brain as soon as I sat up. I wasn't in the white room again. In fact, it didn't seem like there was an end to it. It seemed to stretch in all directions for miles, and there weren't any lights on the ceiling, yet it was almost too bright for me to bear.

I looked down to see myself clad in my old Glader clothing. The blue quarter-sleeve was even smudged with dirt as it had been before, the gray jeans tucked into my beloved combat boots. My hand trailed down my head to find my hair still cut short. What was going on?

I pushed myself to my feet and did a 360-degree turn, scanning for any sign of where I was, but there was nothing. I seemed to be alone.

Alone.

I closed my eyes and forced my heart to slow its already erratic beating. Once my breathing had leveled out as well, I hesitantly called out, "Hello?"

As I expected, there was no response. There wasn't even an echo to my voice. It was as if there was no space at all instead of an endless stretch of white.