Fine On My Own (Minho x Reader)

Slow Down

Minho hadn't been in the maze any longer than two hours and the wind began to howl, stirring up dust, making him claw at his eyes. About an hour ago, he'd sent Y/N and Thomas off in different directions to cover more of the maze. It probably wasn't the greatest idea for their first day, but he knew they were smart and would be able to follow the small maps he'd drawn out. Or, so he hoped. He still wasn't happy about Y/N being a runner, but he knew he had no choice. She was good at what she did and was willing to be a runner when no one else was. 

Rain began to pelt down from the sky and thunder was rolling in the distance. Rain made the maze floors unimaginably slick, and Minho knew he had to get back to the Glade. All he hoped was that Y/N and Thomas had the same judgement as him.

It was getting increasingly hard to see and hear, the sky completely dark, lightning casting shadows in various places. He came to the intersection he knew for a fact the other two would have to pass through to get back to the glade and waited for them. 

Minho stood in the cold rain, allowing for it to sting his exposed skin. "C'mon... c'mon..." He whispered to himself, hoping either one of their forms would round the corner soon.

And just as he'd hoped, one of them appeared. Thomas jogged over to Minho and stood at his side panting, also waiting for Y/N to show up. Luckily, in under a minute, she did. But she was running too fast. It was no surprise to see her careening down the corridor as she was a quick runner, but the ground wasn't in condition for that kind of speed.

"Y/N! Slow down!!" Minho screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to overpower the rumbling from the sky.

"M—Minho!!" She cried back. Something in her voice told him things weren't right. "GRIEVER!"

His heart stopped. At the end of the corridor, the last thing he wanted to see reared it's ugly head. For a moment, he prayed it was just the shadows playing ticks on him, but the reflection off of the one long blade of the griever didn't lie.

As Y/N raced down the corridor, the griever shrieked and cried, following right behind the new runner. Minho's attention turned to the sky. Above them within the low hanging cloud, streaks of electricity began to snake around as if looking for a place to strike.

"Y/N RUN!" Minho screeched with every ounce of desperation inside of him. In this moment, the reality that one of them might not make it out of the maze settled in.

Before he knew it, his eyes were being blinded by a flash of white light, a raucous sound penetrating his ears and nearly tearing them to pieces.

When his vision recovered, he began stumbling forwards, unsure of what he'd find. He could see a smoking pile of what used to be a griever, the sickening smell of the scorched creature nearing making him vomit. Then, he saw the girl. She was sprawled out on the cold ground, her leg crushed beneath a pile of rubble from the maze wall, her head bleeding.

"What the shuck?!" Her voice came out dry and sickly, but her eyes were open wide with fear, staring down at the pile of rocks restraining her. She cried out, tugging at her leg in desperation.

"Y/N, calm down." Minho forced, gripping her shoulders.

Y/N snapped her head around to see Minho, her body tensing under her grip. For a moment, it was like she didn't even recognize him in her state of panic.

"It's ok. Just hold on." Minho tried to maintain his composure, but he was just as scared as her. What if she could never run again? What if the griever woke up?

He tried to ignore his troublesome thoughts, pulling the rubble away piece by piece. He could see her face scrunching in agony as the weight began to be lifted, but he kept on moving. They needed to get out of here.

Finally, her leg was free, and she was clambering to get up. Minho instinctively pulled her arm over his shoulder and began to drag her along. They were going to make it back.

It was a long, disorientating walk through the maze as water still torrented down in an unbroken stream, wind screaming in their ears, lighting streaking across the sky. Minho, however, wasn't giving up. He knew they were close to the Glade. Without realizing, the girl had fallen unconscious and he was bearing her full weight on his own.

Rain still fell relentlessly, thunder still boomed, and wind still roared. But inside of the medjack hut, they were warm and dry. Y/N was laid out on the bed, her body tense and cold. While Clint and Jeff furiously tended to her leg, Minho was gently wiping the blood away from the gash on her head. He felt pretty terrible now, not having prevented any of this. He knew sending Y/N and Thomas off on their own was a bad idea.

"Hey Minho?" His thoughts were broken by Jeff's defeated voice.

"Yea?" He asked, slowly turning his focus from her form to the medjack.

"You mind go getting her some dry clothes? Anything will work."

Minho blinked a few times, trying to hold bad the tears welling in his eyes. He wasn't even sure of the last time he had cried. But seeing her, lying in that bed, completely defenceless killed him. "Yeah." He sounded back, exiting the hut as quickly as possible.

He rummaged around the Glade for quite some time. Partly because there were hardly any clothes left unused and available and partly because he was afraid to see her again. She was hurt because of him.

Eventually, he came to the map room. In the corner was a box of his old belongings, and inside, a blue hoodie he hadn't worn since the first month in the glade. He really had grown.

Then, he moved to the other corner where Y/N kept her supplies, and amidst the disregarded papers and knives, he found a pair of black running shorts. They'd have to do.

"Thanks Minho." Jeff caught him at the door, taking the clothes from him. The runner peered over Jeff's shoulder and into the hut, seeing the girl with her legs hanging weakly over the side of the bed. Her head hung in complete and utter defeat. In the very least, she was awake and moving on her own now. "We'll let you know when you can see her."

Minho didn't want to leave. Even though just a few minutes ago he was afraid to see her, now he wanted to be in there with her.

He resentfully obliged as the door was closed in his face. Nowhere else to go, and refusing to return to the map room, he went to the kitchen. The moment he entered, he was flooded with questions from every direction, Y/N's name in every one of them. He ignored them all.

Slumping down in a chair at a table with Alby and Newt, Minho could feel all of his pent up emotions trying to break free. But he wouldn't let them. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

"How is she? We heard what happened." Alby asked softly, trying to catch Minho's gaze.

"She'll be alright." He sucked in a deep breath, trying to make his declaration clear and sounding as if he fully believed in her recovery. "You need to force her to take a few days off so she can heal."

"That goes for you too, Minho. You've been working hard and need a rest. Three days." Newt commanded.

Minho looked to him with shock. "A day? Fine. Nearly half a week? Newt you can't—"

"Yes we can!" The blonde looked to Alby who nodded in confirmation. "You're no bloody good to us dead or injured, Minho."

The runner sighed deeply. His friend wasn't wrong. He'd been working tirelessly for the past three years. Maybe it was a time for a break. And now better than ever as Y/N would be forced to rest too, so he'd finally be able to talk with her.

"Minho—" The door to the homestead swung open and Clint appeared. "You can come see her."