The Maze Runner Imagines, One-Shots, and Preferences

Minho Imagine: Outside These Walls (Part One)

This imagine is based on chapters 15-16 of The Maze Runner.

"Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the Maze. The walls slammed shut behind him, the echo of its boom bouncing off the ivy-covered stone like mad laughter."

-

"A dead Griever?" You ask. "Really?"

"Sure as klunk." Minho nods, adjusting his backpack so it sits securely on his broad shoulders.

Dawn light spills over the Maze's huge walls. The Glade is already awake despite the early hour, groups of boys eating breakfast by the Homestead and talking. Minho and Alby stand near the West Door, which is due to open in a couple minutes.

Usually Minho would be striking out alone, but Alby wanted to come check out the dead Griever your boyfriend had found the previous day.

Dead Griever. The words sound made-up. Never in the history of the Maze had there been a dead Griever. They were supposed to be powerful, unstoppable. The phrase sounds like an oxymoron, two words the polar opposite of each other.

"Remind me why I can't come again?" You fiddle with one last zipper before dropping your hands, trying not to twist them together anxiously.

"It's your day off." Minho cups your face, thumb running over your cheekbone softly. "You should enjoy it. Besides, it'll be boring. We'll have to drag it all the way back."

You nod, offering a weak smile to drown the worries circling in your mind. It would be the first time a Glader went close enough to touch a Griever and live. Supposing they live. You widen your smile with effort, knowing Minho won't appreciate your worry.

"Just be careful," you tell him finally. He gives you a soft, lingering kiss in response, and you try not to feel like it might be the last time he'll ever kiss you again.

"Slim it, lovebirds. The door's opening." Alby sends you an amused smile as the West Door starts to slide open, sparks fountaining from the harsh grind of stone. The set of your lips is too tense to make a snarky comeback and you just nod, stepping away from Minho reluctantly.

The worry doesn't leave you. As Alby turns to leave you catch at his arm, Minho already having gone to stand in front of the doors. "Alby - keep him out of trouble, alright?"

Alby nods, an easy smile on his face. "I'll bring that shank back to you, don't you worry, (Y/N)," he tells you confidently. Waving one last time, you watch the pair of them sprint into the Maze.

You return to the Homestead, still too anxious to eat, and find Thomas, Newt and Chuck finishing their breakfast.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Newt says in greeting, sliding over to clear a space in their picnic table for you. You thank him and sit, unable to keep your gaze from returning to the Maze that swallowed Minho and Alby.

"What's going on?" Thomas asks.

Newt shrugs. "She was just seein' off Minho and Alby - they're going to look at the buggin' dead Griever." He digs into his eggs, and you run your finger anxiously over the whorls on the wood table.

"Hey," Chuck says. A small piece of bacon flies out of his mouth and you stifle a laugh. "I've got a question about that."

"Yeah, Chuckie?" Newt answers, somewhat sarcastically. "And what's your bloody question?"

"Well, they found a dead Griever, right?"

"Yeah," Newt replies. "Thanks for that bit of news."

Chuck taps his fork against the table, apparently deep in thought. "Well, then who killed the stupid thing?"