Please Tommy: Maze Runner One Shots & Imagines [On Hold]

Charlie Pt. 1

A previously mentioned fanfiction. I wrote enough that I'll divide it into three parts. Sorry I've been posting so little lately. School picked up so I haven't had time to write, plus I'm feeling really uninspired. It's like I need a new book for some new ideas or something *looks in depressed manner at wallet* I have a break coming up in a couple weeks though and I'll try and post once or twice then, and maybe purchase, read, and reread a certain James Dashner book, and come up with some new ideas. Sound like a plan? Yeah? Okay... Break!! Now without further pointless reflection and ranting I present to you part 1 of the story of Charlie. >>Adry Grace

It was the jolt of the box coming to a sudden halt that finally woke me. But as I didn't feel like getting up that moment, I didn't move or even open my eyes, not even when the light invaded my privacy with a creak and a bang.

At first the voices coming from above were a tangled mess, but finally a voice rose above the rest. "Tell em, Newt." There were 5 seconds of silence then a voice with a thick British accent said, "It's a girl. And I think she's dead."

"I'm not dead, you idiot." I hollered up, opening my eyes. A tall blonde boy gave a yelp and fell into the box that contained me, landing next to me. Laughing, I sat up. "What, haven't you ever seen a living girl before?"

The boy looked into my eyes, he had deep brown eyes, filled with understanding. "As a matter of fact," ah, here was British boy, "I haven't."

I frowned. I opened my mouth to reply, but said nothing. The boy stood, and reached out a hand to help me stand. We were hoisted out of the box. Immediately I was greeted by a tall, pale, dark haired boy, maybe 16.

"You okay there Greenie?" I nodded hesitantly.

"My name's Nick. I'm gonna take care of you for now, is that okay?"

"It's bloody fine. Where am I?" I snapped.

Nick laughed. "This one has Alby's temper and your vocabulary, Newt."

Blondie smiled but when nobody replied, I returned to my question. "Where. Am. I."

"We call it the Glade." Nick said, gesturing around him."Not much, we know. But it's home."

I glared at him, "That's fine and dandy but why am I here? This isn't my home, so where is my home?"

Nick shrugged, and looked me straight in the eyes, "The only one who can tell you that is you." I never broke his gaze but at the same time searched my mind. For a why. A where. A what. Even a who. I found nothing.

"I- I don't remember." I whispered. I wouldn't let myself cry.

"None of us do But we all do come up with one memory. Our name. Do you remember your name?"

I closed my eyes and searched my mind. Finally I found something. I grabbed onto it.

"Charlie," I said opening my eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Charlie. And welcome to our home.

------------------->>>

"Come on, let's go for a walk." Nick says as we finish up dinner. I consider for a moment, and the glance at Mr. British- Newt, I found out his name was. He didn't seem to think anything of it, so I nodded and stood up.

"So can I ask some more questions now?" I ask.

"No need. This is what we call the Deadheads. It's a quiet forest area, we come here sometimes when we need some peace and quiet. Newt comes here a lot- but" he cuts himself off like he'd said something he shouldn't have, "Don't tell him I told you. Anyway, There's the Homestead, where we all sleep, and the Farm. And that's about area."

"Why do you call it the Deadheads?"

Nick looks at the sky. "We have the graveyard back here too. I was planning on waiting to mention that detail, but-"

"Show me." I say

Nick nods and walks off towards the walls. Which reminded me of a very important question I had yet to ask.

But first I followed him to the graveyard. It was small, few had died. I bent down over the gravestone that looked oldest. George. I touched the engraved letters.

"Did you know him?" I ask.

"Yes. He was the Greenie before me. A good man. Very brave."

I look up at Nick. "How did he die?"

Nick shook his head." An accident that shouldn't have happened. We were putting up the shack. There were only about 30 of us then. All of us were working together, putting up the last wall. It was up and we thought it was steady. It wasn't. George happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The whole thing collapsed on top of him."

There were tears in Nick's eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It was none of my business." I whisper.

"Don't be. Accidents happen. 'Sides. Gotta learn sooner or later how to pick yourself up and move on. And in the Glade, the sooner the better." Nick turns around, "We should get back to the homestead. It's getting dark."

I look back down to the gravestone. Then and there I decide that the rest of my questions could wait for another time. I get up and follow Nick back to the Homestead in silence. "Newt's getting a bed ready for you, separate from the rest of the guys. We're doin our best to make you comfortable." Nick says when we arrive. He points me in the general direction then walks off. I head in the direction he pointed, and after asking around finally find Newt. He was waiting for me, sitting on the ground next to a sleeping bag, pillow, and extra blanket. He smiles up at me. "I was wonderin when you'd bloody show up," he said kindly.

"Sorry." I say, sitting down next to him. "You're not an easy guy to find. One dude said he saw ya in the map room, whatever that is, another said you were in the shack, and the last one said you'd been eaten by the Grievers for all he knew... or cared for that matter. Friendly bloke, that one. By the way, what are Grievers?"

"You've met Gally from the sound of it." Newt laughs, ignoring my last question. "Don't worry about him. He's not friendly with anyone, but he's all bark, no bite."

We were silent for a couple of minutes then I said, "It's so strange."

"What?"

"This place. Everything about it. Wake up in a 100x100 foot... whatever you would call this not remembering anything about your past. One way in, no way out, and apparently no one outside the buggin' place. It doesn't add up."

"Is that so?" Newt mused.

"Yes. For one thing, if there's a way in there has to be a way out. What goes up must come down. It's a law of nature. And another thing. We couldn't have just appeared in the box. Someone had to put us here. And before that someone had to wipe our memories. We had a life before this, I just know it. That means this- this place. The Glade. This can't be it."

"You're building up to something. I can feel it" Newt said.

"Yes. I am," I said, turning to face Newt. "Newt. Tell me the truth. What's outside those walls that's so horrible you don't want me to know about it."

Even in the dark, I see Newt pale.

"Just more nothing." he says, "You'll learn all about it in the morning. Either me or Alby will be by before breakfast to give you a briefing." He gets up.

"Alby?" I ask, settling into my bed.

"The tall, dark shank we sat with at dinner."

"The one who kept scowling at me?"

Newt smiled. "That's the one."

"Then for my sake I hope it's you."

"I'll see if that can be arranged." he turns to leave.

"Newt."

He pauses. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." he says. I'm not surprised when he doesn't ask what for. He seemed like the kinda guy who would understand.