The Maze Runner: Newt x Reader

Chapter 3

(A/N): It's been forever since I've updated, but I'm writing this at 2am for you guys! Considering that's the only time I have to write...

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You trailed behind Minho and Newt, close to their heels as they kept their gaze sharp on you, their eyes darting behind them from time to time, over their shoulders to keep an eye on you.

You timed them, noticing that they glanced back at you every ten or fifteen seconds or so. You even took notice of their clothing, the permanent marks of dirt and sweat stains forever sticking to their shirts. You were even close enough to catch their body odor, and Minho smelled the worst.

He must've been a lot more physical.

You dreaded the idea of not having a decent place to wash your body, then again, doing a double take on your surroundings, you didn't see a shower anywhere. Much less a secluded place.

You let out a sigh as Newt glanced back at you, quick to turn away when you looked at him this time. His face turned a light shade of red as he broke the contact as soon as it started. You raised a brow as you stared at the back of his head.

The outside looked huge. There were many small buildings, all looking like relatively decent built shacks. There were areas full of crops and areas that had animals wandering, all smelling like petting zoos. A memory popped up in your head at the comparison, followed by a buzzing noise. It felt like it was just out of your grasp as you strained to remember. You gave up.

You did a double take and saw very few people, in contrast to the many boys you saw when you arrived up in that box.

You turned your attention to the two boys in front of you as Minho hit Newt on the shoulder with a tanned hand, grabbing his attention. Newt turned to him as Minho asked him a question, leaning in to him, like he was telling him a secret.

You couldn't hear them as they spoke in low whispers. You heard one phrase. "-the girl?" Whilst he jabbed a thumb behind him not so subtly.

Soon, all three of you were at a large door, large enough so you didn't have to duck your head, as Minho went in, then Newt. He turned, leaning against the door frame, lightly gripping your wrist making sure you followed and didn't try another escape move. You reluctantly went along.

The relatively large building was shaded, lines of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the wood. There was about fifteen or so guys crowding on one side, only one lone 'glader', as you heard that word tossed around a bit, standing behind a small pedestal reaching his chest.

The boy had broad shoulders like Minho, only slimmer. He was tall with brown, short-cropped hair, pale complexion with light freckles dusting his cheeks. He turned harshly in your direction, raising his sharp brows at you.

The broad boy spoke up. "Ah. I see the Greenie has arrived." He said matter-of-factly.

You felt like a prisoner in shackles as Newt guided you to a line chair in the front of the room. It was like a court room, all eyes on you. You heard faint whispers, some intimidating, some utterly stupid.

You sat down on the rickety chair, the wood creaking under you, adding on to the unsettling feeling in your stomach. You folded your hands in your lap, your hands growing sweaty. Minho joined the freckled boy by the pedestal, whispering and pointing to you.

You felt someone walking towards you as you craned your head to see them. The now familiar face of the blonde boy entered your vision. He set his hand on the corner of the chair, leaning down to whisper to you.

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you. See that boy there?" He pointed in the direction where Minho and the brunette were talking. "That's Gally talking with Minho. He's the keeper of the Builders. I think you know Minho's name, right?" He turned to you, raising a brow.

Gally. At least it was another name to put to a face.

You nodded. He continued. "Okay, good. Now, Minho is the keeper of the Runners." He explained. You still stared at the two boys talking as if you could real lips. You felt a hand reach to your jaw to turn your head away from them.

You flinched, startled as you glared at Newt. "Sorry." He took his hand away, just pointing now, his face close to yours. He gestured a finger to another man sitting in the front row of the benches. "See that other man there? That's Alby. Now he's the leader, so try to not anger him if anyone."

Alby had a darker complexion than the other boys. You recognized him slightly as the face appeared in your head like a memory, back when you first came up in the box.

You turned your head to Newt, pointing a finger yourself like a child. "I recognize him."

Newt's eyebrows raised. "R-Really? From where?" He asked eagerly.

You slightly shrunk away in the chair, confusion written all over your face. "Yeah, from when I first got here." You explained simply.

The Brit looked slightly disappointed, like he was expecting something else. "Oh. Yes, of course." He dismissed it. You wanted to ask him a question, but decided to save it for another time, wanting to put names to faces.

He leaned more against the chair, his chest slightly poking out as he made sure you were paying attention to him.

"Alright. Now that's Winston." He gestured to a tan boy. He had messy black hair and an acne covered face. "He's the keeper of the Slicers." You assumed 'keepers' meant leaders, but you sure didn't want to think about what the Slicers did. And where did the Runners run? Through that huge door?

Questions flooded your mind, but you kept quiet, listening to the sound of the oddly calming blondes voice, explaining every major thing he could in the short time he had.

He started listing names now, in hopes that you'd be able to keep up. "Okay, that's Zart, the keeper of the Track-hoes. That's Clint, keeper of the Med-Jacks. That's Frypan, keeper of the Cooks. That's Billy, keeper of the Baggers. You getting all of this?" He turned to you as you nodded your head.

"Good. So, now you know who's talking." He offered a small smile to break the obvious tension.

You took a step and reciprocated it.

"Oh, I don't think I've introduced myself properly since...you know..." He trialed off, remembering your first impression of him.

He stood up straight, taking his hand off the chair, offering it. He had a piece of fabric tied around his wrist.

You found yourself awaiting his introduction with bated breath.

"I'm Newt. Second-in-Command. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Newt.

What a delightful name.

(A/N): A few years too late I know! But I'm just trying to wrap up any stories that are discontinued!