The Tributes from the Maze (Newt/OC)

Real Smooth

As soon as the sun came up Teresa, Brenda, Minho, Gally, Jorge and Thomas went straight to the hospital to see Newt and Ariadne. They got to the front desk and the lady told them what rooms their friends were in. When they finally found the rooms both were empty. They decided to wait for ten minutes, in case the two were using the bathroom or something, before raising the alarm. Everyone was silent in their own worry as the tension built. Thomas looked up from where his hands were clasped in his lap, only for his eyes to meet the sapphire blue of Teresa's. He quickly looked away, finding Brenda watching him as well. He decided to star back into his lap. Where had Newt and Aria gone?

When ten minutes passed Minho got up to go and ask the front desk where they might be. Just then, soaking wet and shivering with smiles plastered onto their faces Newt and Ariadne climbed in through the window. When they turned around and saw everyone huddled into Ariadne's hospital room they froze in their tracks.

"Hey, guys," Ariadne said awkwardly and gave a small wave.

"Hey, what are you all doing here?" Newt asked shakily.

"What were you two doing not here?" Minho asked.

"We just went for a walk." Ariadne shrugged.

"Then a rest," Newt added.

"Then a swim," Ariadne nodded.

"Then a climb through a window," Newt said.

"Now we're here." Ariadne smiled.

"And so are you." Newt finished.

"And we were worried!" Minho threw his hands up in the air.

"Look, we're sorry! But it was terrible in here." Ariadne grumbled.

"How are you feeling?" Thomas asked, his concern for his sister apparent in his cautious tone.

"It wasn't a very pleasant experience, but it was worth it." Newt shrugged.

"Uh, Newt? I think Thomas was talking to Ariadne." Teresa smirked.

"But hey! You know, it's not like she was almost dead or anything like that." Brenda's words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Ari." Newt blushed. Ariadne shot him a grin.

"It's fine, Newt. I feel normal, I suppose." She gave a small smile and glanced at Newt, tugging her sleeves lower over her hands. He noticed the foreign movement and something deep within his gut knew something was wrong. If Thomas noticed it too, he didn't say anything.

"So do you think you can go now? I hate places like this. It reminds me too much of WICKED." Brenda scowled as she scanned the immaculate room.

"I completely agree with you. Can we just leave?" Ariadne picked up her coat and shock gun from the table next to the bed.

"Yeah, we just go to the front desk and tell them to discharge you. If they don't listen well shoot 'em." Brenda shrugged.

"We can't shoot them! It's a hospital!" Teresa scolded Brenda.

"Well, we won't actually shoot them. Well just threaten to. Trust me, it works every time." Brenda waved her hand in dismissal and rolled her eyes.

"Maybe for uncivilised people," Teresa muttered. Brenda shot her a glare. Thomas thought someone should step in before the conversation got too heated. But he didn't want to be the one to get in between the two girls, so he cleared his throat and gave Minho a suggestive look.

"Hmm?" Minho frowned. Newt rolled his eyes.

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's go. I don't know about you, but I think there would be much better ways to spend our days." He drawled in his English accent that Ariadne loved so much. Thomas nodded to him in a silent thank you. Minho finally got it. He opened his mouth in a silent 'oh'.

"Hey, that rhymed! Better ways to spend our days. Now you can become a famous English poet and when you become rich you can give me 50 percent." Minho grinned stupidly, proud that he had 'covertly' changed the subject. Newt looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Okay, you're right. That's selfish. Everyone else should get some profit too. You can give me 50 percent and divide the rest between you and the others."

Everyone rolled their eyes and filed out of the room. Gally purposely bumped into Minho's shoulder on the way. "Real smooth." He whispered.

"Shut up," Minho muttered.