Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner. If I did, Minho, Newt, and Thomas would never wear shirts again.

-✼-

The hands only stopped when both Thomas and I were standing up on solid ground, the dust brushed from our clothes. I watched as Thomas turned in a slow circle, surveying everything around him carefully. His hair was in fact not black, but a dark, rich brown that fell flat against his forehead. His equally as brown eyes shifted from person to person so quickly that it made me dizzy to watch. He was still white as clouds, though, and he looked extremely confused. His appearance sparked something in the back of my brain that was soon lost in the ensuing chaos.

Some kids sniggered and teased him, but most of the attention was on me. By the looks on some of their faces, I guessed they hadn't seen a girl in a while. Some jaws were dropped. Other boys poked those next to them and pointed to me, as if I wasn't in the center of their circle anyway. It bothered me to no end that they treated me as if I was an object in a museum.

I diverted my attention off of the boys and took in my surroundings. We were standing in a large field that was surrounded by four gigantic stone walls covered in layers of thick ivy. There were openings as tall as the walls themselves, leading to passages far beyond my sight. After so long in a dark box, the colors were vivid to me. I had never seen so much green at once before- not to my knowledge, at least.

"Look at the Greenbeans," an unknown, scratchy voice sneered. "The boy's gonna break his shuck neck checkin' out the new digs, an' the girl's lookin' totally lost."

I instantly hated whoever it was.

"Shut your hole, Gally," a deeper voice snapped, and I mentally thanked them.

I looked at the strangers surrounding us with more intensity than before as if they were gauging my reaction. Countless boys stared back at me with varying expressions of curiosity and confusion. It still made me uncomfortable, but kept my face blank as to not draw more attention to myself than there already was.

As usual, Thomas had questions.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice sounding a bit shaky. I was mildly surprised that he had the courage to speak.

"Nowhere good," a dark-skinned boy replied simply with a hand outstretched toward us. "Just slim yourself nice and calm."

Nice and calm? How were we supposed to be 'nice and calm' when we had just shown up here with no memories and not a single clue of where we were?

"I apologize for him," I said, referring to Thomas. "Wouldn't stop asking questions the whole dang ride in that box." Thomas shot me a glare that I ignored.

The dark-skinned boy showed no hint of amusement. Well, so much for that.

"Which Keeper they gonna get?" someone called from the back.

"I told ya, shuck-face," a shrill voice replied. "The boy's a klunk, so he'll be a Slopper - no doubt about it. As for the girl, well, I wouldn't mind seeing her bend over and pickin' them crops." The kid giggled and others joined. My cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, but I turned away so they wouldn't see.

I was going to spend who-knows-how-long in this enclosed area with fifty hormonal teenage boys. Just great.

The boy with the scratchy voice was talking again. "-even do that much, bet my liver on it."

"I said shut your holes!" the dark boy yelled, authority lacing his deep voice. "Keep yapping and next break'll be cut in half! I swear on this whole damn Glade."

I guessed that one to be the leader of the bunch, judging by how everyone obeyed him. Instantly the whole place was dead silent except for the rustling of the long grass.

There was a dilapidated wooden building in one of the corners that looked close to falling apart. It was made of an accumulation of wood and nails that seemed dangerously unstable. Another corner held gardens that produced many fruits and vegetables. I shuddered, thinking of what that boy had said about "seeing her bend over and pickin' them crops." Across the courtyard was a pen holding farm animals. A forest filled the last corner, the closest trees looking crippled and dying.

As my gaze floated over my "new digs," I noticed one boy's eyes. They stopped me dead in my tracks. His stare was so cold, so full of hatred that it actually scared me, sending a chill and shivers down my spine. He locked eyes with Thomas and shook his head, dropping his gaze. The boy in question had black hair, and a nose the size of a potato. He walked to a bench and sat down, his back to us.

The leader of the group, who looked about seventeen, stepped forward. His clothes were surprisingly casual: a black t-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and a digital watch. For some reason, that surprised me. It didn't look like something someone would wear on a farm. But then again, nothing had seemed right since the moment I had woken up.

The dark-skinned boy had short hair, his face clean shaven. There was nothing remotely scary about him except for the permanent scowl that pulled his lips into a frown.

"It's a long story, shanks," the boy sighed. "Piece by piece, you'll learn - I'll be takin' you on the Tour tomorrow. Till then...just don't break anything." He held a hand out. "Name's Alby."

While I extended my hand out and shook his, Thomas blatantly refused. Instead, he turned and stomped to a nearby tree, plopping down against its rough-looking bark. I watched him curiously, wanting to get to know what kind of person he was.

"Then tell me," Thomas called out. "Tell me the long story."

"Thomas, get your butt over here," I ordered, feeling embarrassed and somehow responsible for his actions. I didn't know why, maybe because the boys' intimidating stares were enough, and I absolutely was not in the mood to be judged or made fun of when they didn't even know me. Plus, I was scared and nervous and felt alone without him by my side.

Thomas stayed put, much to my dismay. "Seriously. Where are we?"

I discovered my legs moving me quickly toward him, people's eyes on me. When I sat next to Thomas, I found Alby following after me.

I was intimidated by him, that was for sure. I was intimidated by all of them. But they didn't need to know that, and in my short time being there I knew that showing any sign of weakness would quickly make me a target.

Alby sat cross-legged in front of us and I found my hand creeping toward Thomas's until I caught myself. My arm retracted before he could notice. I cursed my brain, wondering what the hell I had been thinking.

The hoard of boys followed and packed in behind the leader, heads popping up here and there, kids leaning to get a better look. My eyes flickered around the crowd nervously before they settled back on Alby.

"If you ain't scared," he said gently, "you ain't human. Act any different and I'd throw you off the Cliff because it'd mean you're a psycho."

"The Cliff?" The blood drained from Thomas's face. Of course that was all he got from it.

"Shuck it," Alby said, rubbing his eyes in either fatigue or exasperation. "Ain't no way to start these conversations, you get me? We don't kill shanks like you two here, I promise. Just try and avoid being killed, survive, whatever."

Alby paused, seeing that Thomas's face had whitened even more at that last part, if that was even possible at that point. I felt an urge to comfort him.

"Thomas, I'm sure we're fine," I assured him quietly, though my voice shook slightly. He seemed to notice that; his eyes darted to me before looking away again.

"Man." Alby ran his hand through his short hair and let out a long sigh. "I ain't good at this - you're the first Greenbeans since Nick was killed."

That made me lose my cool. My calm demeanor faded and my eyes went wide in fear, my heart stopping. Someone was killed? What kind of place was this?

Another boy stepped up and playfully slapped Alby across the head. "Wait for the bloody Tour, Alby. Kids are gonna have a bloody heart attack, nothin' even been heard yet." He bent down and extended his hand down toward Thomas first. "Name's Newt, and we'd be right cheery if ya'd forgive our klunk-for-brains new leader, here."

Newt. Why did that sound familiar? How did it sound familiar? Even his voice was something I recognized, but how? How was it that both Thomas and Newt were people I seemed to know?

This time, Thomas reached out and shook his hand. After they let go, Newt moved on to me, but froze when our eyes locked on each other's.

I felt that same buzzing in my nerves that I had when I saw Thomas. It was stronger, nagging on my senses like a sharp tug in the back of my mind. I wondered if he felt it too, judging by how his jaw fell agape. 

Newt was taller than Alby; definitely more attractive. He had hair that was not short but also not long, sweeping across his forehead in a mess of blond strands. The eyes that stared at me were a warm brown. His jaw was sharp and bony, matching his thin and angular frame.

"Pipe it, shuck-face, and stop gawkin' at the girl like a shucking fish," Alby grumbled, pulling Newt down next to him before we had the chance to shake hands. "At least they can understand half my words." There were a few scattered laughs, and everyone packed tighter around us, straining to hear more of our conversation.

Alby spread his arms out with his palms up. "This place is called the Glade, all right? It's where we live, where we eat, where we sleep - we call ourselves the Gladers. That's all you--"

"Who sent us here?" Thomas demanded, sounding more angry than afraid, now. "How'd-"

I feared for poor Thomas's life as Alby's hand shot out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Get up, shank, get up!" Alby stood and pulled a frightened Thomas up with him. Thomas scrambled to get his feet under him, backing against the tree and narrowly missing my head. "No interruptions, boy!"

I shot up from the ground before I knew what I was doing, feeling extremely protective over Thomas. "Hey!" I grabbed at Alby's hands and tried to loosen his grip to no avail. "Let him go!"

But Alby ignored me like I wasn't even there, so I did the only thing I thought was reasonable.

I hit Alby in the back of the neck, right on the pressure point. This shocked him enough to release Thomas a tiny bit, but a pair of strong arms grabbed me by the waist and held me in the air before I could do any real damage. I turned my head slightly to see Newt, who had a surprised expression on his face as he kept me above the ground. My feet kicked wildly, trying to touch the dirt, but I noticed with dismay that I was very short. My boots barely scraped the ground due to Newt's height.

I was about to flip him over subconsciously, but something made me stop. I couldn't bring myself to do it. So, instead, I decided to use my words. 

"Let. Him. Go," I hissed, seething. Rage was filling me fast and I struggled even harder to get out of Newt's iron grip, but he was too strong and I was getting tired. I sighed and tried a different approach. "Please."

Newt finally said something. "Alby, lay off a bit. You're hurtin' more than helpin', ya know?"

Thankfully, Alby let go of Thomas's shirt and stepped back, his chest heaving up and down as he rubbed his neck where I hit him. "Ain't got time to be nice, Greenbeans. Old life's over, new life's begun. Learn the rules quick, listen, don't talk. You got me?"

Thomas glanced pleadingly at Newt, maybe hoping for some consolation.

Newt nodded. "Greenies, you got him, right?" He nodded again.

Thomas was fuming, but I spoke before he could punch someone. "Yeah."

"Good that," Alby said. "First Day. That's what today is for you, shanks. Night's comin', Runners'll be back soon. The Box came late today, ain't got time for the Tour. Tomorrow morning, right after the wake-up." He turned toward Newt. "Get them a bed, get them to sleep."

"Good that," Newt said. He released his grip on me, letting me drop to the ground. He still lingered by me- maybe just in case I tried to lunge again.

Alby's eyes returned to Thomas and I, narrowing to slits. "A few weeks, you'll be happy, shanks. You'll be happy and helpin'. None of us knew jack on First Day, you neither. New life begins tomorrow."

Alby turned and pushed his way through the crowd, of which I had momentarily forgotten about. As Alby made his way toward the slanted wooden building in the corner, said crowd moved away then, each person giving us a lingering glance before walking off.

I didn't know what to do after that. Thomas was extremely angry- I knew that. But I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. I was no longer afraid as much as confused. I wanted answers and I wanted them now, but unlike Thomas, I knew to keep my mouth shut.

I realized I had learned some things about myself. I had a fiery temper. I knew where to hurt people as if I had learned before I came here. I didn't like others to think poorly of me before they knew me. I was protective of Thomas and didn't like anyone touching him negatively, though I didn't know why. I still didn't even know my own name. Why wouldn't it come to me? Thomas knew his in a matter of minutes, so why was mine taking so long?

"What did we do?" Thomas whispered, shaking me from my thoughts. "What did we do - why'd they send us here?"

I walked over to him and Newt followed, lagging slightly behind. When we reached him, Newt clapped Thomas on the shoulder. "Greenie, what you're both feelin', we've all felt it. We've all had First Day, come out of that dark box. Things are bad, they are, and they'll get much worse for ya two soon, that's the truth. But down the road a piece, you'll be fightin' true and good. I can tell neither of you are bloody sissies."

"Is this a prison?" Thomas asked. Newt seemed to find this amusing, because his eyes crinkled at the corners and a grin just barely tugged up the corners of his thin lips.

"Done asked four questions, haven't ya?" he replied lightly. "No good questions for ya, not yet, anyway. Best be quiet now, accept the change- morn comes tomorrow."

Thomas sunk his head low, not saying anything. But I smiled at Newt, thankful for how nice he was in contrast to Alby. "Thanks, Newt."

He muttered a, "No problem." and continued talking to Thomas. I felt a stab, like what Newt said and did to me meant a lot. It didn't make sense- I had just met him.

"Chuck'll be a good fit for ya," the blond decided happily. "Wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all's said and done. Stay here, I'll be back."

Newt barely finished his sentence when a piercing scream ripped through the calm. High and shrill, it hurt my ears as the barely human shriek echoed across the Glade; everyone in sight turned toward the source. My blood ran cold, my body frozen as I realized that the sound had come from the wooden building.

Even Newt had jumped, his forehead creasing in concern. "Shuck it," he muttered angrily. "Can't the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin' my help?" He shook his head and lightly kicked our feet. "Find Chuckie, tell him he's in charge of your sleepin' arrangements." He then turned and ran in the direction of the building.

A sudden punch-to-the-gut feeling settled over me as I realized Newt hadn't even looked directly me after our stare down the first time we locked eyes. And for some reason, that really hit home more than it should have.

gif is the gladers

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Why do you think Newt was ignoring/uncomfortable with Dylan? I wanna see if someone can guess correctly.

Until next time!

~kristyn