I do not own The Maze Runner or any of its characters

Lauren: *to Alby* If I can prove that I never broke the law, do you promise not to tell another soul what you saw?
Alby: No one else was in the room where it happened...
Lauren: Is that a yes?
Alby: Uh, no.

Lauren
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There are few certainties in this world. The sun rises, Earth turns, grass grows, and cows go 'moo.' Abra speaks in tongues, Zeus still hates me and my friends, and I have my hair in a ponytail.

And Alby busting into my room the minute he hears I'm awake.

"What do you remember?" He grabbed a chair and sat down on it. Newt came in shortly after.

"I'm good, Alby. How are you? Oh, that's fantastic to hear. Yeah, I only managed to get a pulled muscle from outrunning a finching Griever. Take all the time I need to heal? You're too kind. You wanted to ask me something? Well, go ahead, thank you for actually caring about how I'm doing." I told my sheets.

"I'm glad you're awake, Lauren." Newt supplied.

"Thank you." I smiled.

Alby sighed. "It's good you're awake."

Flexing my wrist, I said: "It doesn't matter much now. But I appreciate the gesture."

"So, what do you remember?" Newt took the other chair.

"Well, it's weird. I feel like I forgot a lot of it. And some other memories I had. I'm glad I wrote them all down because they'd be lost."

"That's not good."

"Yeah. But anyway," I started talking about Amelia and my face-reading training, still leaving out the part of the cure.

"And these aren't even our real names. I don't know why they changed them, but my original name was Zara. Zara Quinn Starell."

"Starell? The same one you swore you made up?"

"I wasn't lying back then, Newt. With the whole thing of getting memories even before I got Stung, I'm honestly not even surprised I managed to remember my last name."

"Go on," Alby said.

"I met some more ladies from the other Maze, and then this man came in and-"

Lauren, STOP!

"Mothershucker!" I clutched my head. Who the finch was that?

Alby sat back in his chair, a shocked expression on his face.

"What was that?" Newt was concerned.

"Uh-" Clint came in the room. Was I really that loud?

I'm doing this for your own good, so please, stop with that memory. It's not worth it.

Keeping my face blank, I used the same lie I told Peter. "Just a headache." I looked over at Clint.

"I think it's best if you two leave." He got my plead loud and clear.

"Yeah, that was the last memory anyway." I pulled out my smile.

"Alright." Alby left, and Newt gave me one last look before following.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"No." I picked at my sheets.

"Okay." Clint left.

"Why do you sound different?" I asked the voice.

What do you mean?

"You're not the rational side of me anymore. And I'm starting to think you weren't even me, to begin with."

Do you hear yourself?

"Loud and clear, actually. Why would I want to keep memories from Newt and Alby?"

Crackface was silent. Let's say that Crackface wouldn't be my first name.

"What kind of answer is that?" But they weren't responding.

I stayed in the room for the rest of the day, drifting in and out of sleep. But for some reason, my body rejected all of the signals I was giving that I wanted to take a nap. Peter didn't come and visit me once, and when Gally came in for lunch, I tried to ask him what was up with Peter.

"He's upset. I wish he'd get over it; it's bringin' down the rest of the Builders." He handed me my plate.

"I think it's my fault."

"It is." He saw my face. "What? I wasn't gonna lie to you."

"Thanks," I answered sarcastically. "I hate it, though. I can't stand this fighting."

"Then go talk to him." He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Will he listen?"

Gally looked at me. "Lauren, it's Peter, for shuck's sake."

I stayed silent for the rest of the meal.

"Can you take me downstairs?" I asked when we finished.

"Yeah."

As per usual, Gally dropped me right before the door, and I was escorted out into the Glade. He went towards the Kitchen, and I decided to look for Peter where the rest of the Builders worked.

"Hey, have you seen Peter?"

"Last I saw, he went to the Deadheads," Leo answered.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Figure out why he's so sad, though. It sucks." He went back to work.

"I will." And made my way to the other side of the Glade.

Walking with crutches sucks. The grass was overgrown, and the ends kept getting tangled and tripping me. Why did Peter have to go to the Deadheads of all places? I powered through it, grumbling the entire time. Eventually, I got into a rhythm that made my life easier. And, of course, I had arrived.

"Peter?" I called. "Don't make me go in farther. I'm gonna trip and fall and eventually die."

No response. I walked in farther.

"Peter? Are you okay? Do I need to bring Clint along?"

No response.

"Peter?!" This was actually scaring me. I started walking to where I had fallen out of the tree.

"Stop yelling. It's like you actually care about me." Peter sat there, an empty plate next to him.

I couldn't help it. My mouth dropped.

"Don't give me that face."

"What face? And what are you talking about? Of course I care about you." I quickly dropped next to him, concerned.

"Tell that to you and your boyfriend." He muttered.

My brain actually stalled a little bit. "What boyfr-do you mean Gally?"

"Yeah. Everyone can see it." Peter started picking at grass and throwing it away from him.

"But nothing is going on between us."

He had the audacity to give me a look.

"I'm serious!"

"For someone with great face-reading abilities, you really are bad at reading the signs."

"How. How am I bad at reading the signs." He was angering me.

"Did you know, every time he came in to check on you, he held your hand? He didn't even stop when other people walked into the room. You know how well he shows emotion. And did you know that he almost killed Clint trying to find out where you were? Or what happened to you? Shuck, Lauren. He almost ripped Jonathan's head off for thinking that you got Stung on purpose. After he found out that people were spreading false rumors about you, everyone was on edge whenever he walked into a room." He threw one last piece of grass away from him and folded his arms.

"I swear that man's in love with you or something." Peter shook his head.

At the mention of the L-word, I froze.

"But, I don't even like him in that way." My voice was impossibly quiet.

"Then you need to figure out what you're going to do about it because we're all tired of being collateral damage."

He stood up. "Do you need help getting out of here?"

"Yeah." I grabbed his outreached hand and pulled him into a hug.

"Wh-"

"I'm sorry. I'll try to figure out something."

"I hate fighting with you." Peter returned it.

"Me too."

I've said this once before, and I'll say it again. I really know how to pick 'em.

|~^-^~|

The next day was a blur of emotion and decision-making. And it was exhausting.

I was still stuck on bed rest, so when Clint rushed into my room, I was not mentally prepared for it.

"We need to prep a room for a Sting, now. Can you handle it?" The door wasn't even finished opening.

"What? I mean, yeah, of course." I grabbed my crutches and started hobbling to the next room.

"Bandages, sedatives, feel-good cream, alcohol, wipes, restraints, and what else?" I tapped my crutch against the floor. "Oh my lord, the Serum." I rushed to my room and found a bottle.

When I came out of the door, I saw Joe carrying Ben with Clint and Jeff behind him.

"That room, here's the Serum!" I handed it to Jeff and pointed to the room simultaneously, using different hands, which caused me to let go of the crutches. Luckily, I managed to catch myself on the wall. But I still had to crawl to get the sticks of wood that made me walk. I despised being injured.

"Anything else?" I called from the doorway.

"Rags and warm water!" Clint responded.

"Okay!"

"I'll go with you." Joe starting running with me down the hallway. Well, he was running, and I was more trying to keep up.

"Finch this." I ditched the crutches and jumped the stairs, being careful to land on my left leg.

Joe and I stopped at the doorway. "You go to the bathrooms and get the rags, I'll go to Frypan." I did not want to walk into someone showering.

"Alright." We split.

I ran-walk to the Kitchens, my right leg screaming at me.

"Frypan!" I busted through the door. "I need some warm water."

"I, okay! The sink's already running, grab a bowl and be on your way." Frypan went back to frying. "Is this for Ben?"

The bowl started filling up. I touched the water and almost burned myself. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"A lot of people saw him get carried in. And the rumors spread. You know."

I sighed. "Yeah, I do know." Grabbing the bowl, I kicked the door back open. "Thank you!"

"No problem!"

Joe was already on his way back to the Homestead. He saw me and diverted his course. "Here, trade me, I'm not injured."

"Okay." We switched, and I was very thankful.

Once back in the Homestead, we heard the screams. Ben's Changing had begun.

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And I oop-
Y'all, I had no idea where I was going with this chapter. And it was a kind of plot-heavy one too. We've got Crackface (I'm still giggling about the name), we've got Lauren and Peter fighting, we've got Gally, and we've got Ben getting Stung!!!! Ah!

Also, is it apparent how much I love Clint and Frypan? Because I feel like I need to include it more.

Questions!!!

-In your opinion, what should Lauren do about the whole L-word situation?

-Did you think I was going to drag out Lauren and Peter's fight?

-Were you shocked when I pulled out the L-word??