Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but you were supposed to be watching the door, Ashley Katchadourian! Do you know what these are, Ashely Katchadourian? These are a little girl's arms. A little girl with dreams, with legs, with a head. She's a pencil! She's a swizzle stick! You can use her as a pool noodle, and now I'm holding up her arms. Arms! I'm holding them because you weren't watching the door. A girl lost her arms, Ashley Katchadourian. A girl lost her fucking arms. Do you not know what has transpired while you were in Pearl Harbor seeing a fuckin' Japanese museum? We had our own Pearl Harbor here today. Oh my God! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?! YOU LITERALLY BOMBED US LIKE THE JAPANESE YOU ARE. And me, I'm Ben Afleck. I'm Ben Afleck and I'm HOLDING TWO FUCKIN' GIRL'S ARMS. And you're Cuba-Gooding Junior, disappointing everybody. LIVE WITH THAT.

-✼-

The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was that I felt horrible. My head was sore, there was dried blood crusted in my hair, and not to mention I smelled worse than the Blood House. I hoped and prayed they had showers I could use.

When I sat up and swung my legs around so my feet were touching the wooden floor, I sighed as I was faced with Minho's empty bed, the thin sheets rumpled and strewn across his mattress. I sometimes wished he didn't leave so early so I could talk to him more.

I then realized I didn't have any spare clothes, either, I had been wearing the same ones for two days, and my hair had been in the same braid, frizzing around my head like a halo. Gross.

Digging around in Minho's splintery, poorly-made dresser, I finally found a shirt that was relatively smaller than the other ones. It must have been from when Minho first came to the Glade. The shirt was old and smelled of mildew and wood, but I put it on anyway and left my other shirt on my cot. I slipped on my combat boots and sighed, hoping I didn't look as terrible as I felt.

"You look awful," Chuck commented when I arrived for breakfast. He and Thomas were sitting down at a picnic table by themselves, but I noticed an extra plate was there with food still on it. Chuck noticed my pointed stare at it and smiled. "Got that for you."

"Thanks, Chuck," I said half sarcastically, sitting down next to Thomas. Today's breakfast was pancakes and sausage. At least it alternated so I wouldn't get sick of having bacon and eggs all of the time.

When I was halfway through my meal, a shadow cast over me and I turned to see Alby and Newt standing there.

"You look awful, Greenie," Alby deadpanned, staring at me. I frowned a bit, feeling self-conscious because it was one thing with Chuck saying it, but a whole other thing when Alby was involved.

Luckily, I didn't have to say anything because Newt elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a look that said, "Lay off, man."

I honestly couldn't be more grateful for Newt.

Alby rolled his eyes and sighed. "What I meant was, you need a shower, big time. Newt'll show them to you."

"But I'm supposed to be her guide!" Chuck protested, standing up. Alby held out a hand and Chuck immediately sat back down.

"Not anymore you ain't," he snapped, frowning in disappointment. "On your watch, Dylan has passed out from hunger and been nearly killed by Ben. I'm not taking any more chances."

Chuck nodded sadly and I was confused. Just as I was about to open my mouth, Newt started speaking.

"I'll be watching over ya for the next few days, if that's all right," he said merrily, a slight smile on his face.

If glanced at Chuck, who was looking down at his plate. "Um, yeah, that's fine."

Alby clapped his hands together. "It's settled then. Newt, show her to the showers."

"I'll wait till she's done eating," Newt told Alby, nodding toward my plate, which was still half full. "Wouldn't want her passing out from hunger, right Alby?" He winked and Alby just shook his head, walking away.

"If I hear she was accidentally thrown off the Cliff or somethin', I'll skin you alive!" Alby called behind his shoulder, obviously joking. He was so much more different around Newt that it almost made me feel bad for how I had treated him.

"I won't let that happen," Newt promised. He then turned to me. "Eat up, Dyl. Gotta shower before it's workin' time."

I nearly groaned aloud. Minho had talked to me about my jobs last night; how could I have forgotten?

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot." Newt opened his palm and handed me a small blue pill. "For the pain. Med-jacks gave it to me to give to you."

I took it from him. "Thank you, Newt."

I quickly finished the now lukewarm pancakes and downed the water with the pill before bidding goodbye for now to Chuck and Thomas.

Trailing closely behind Newt, it didn't take me long to realize we were headed in the direction of the Box. One of the doors was closed and the other was open, like people were using it but didn't want to open it all the way.

"What're we doing over here?" I asked.

"Supplies came," Newt replied, tugging the second door open with a grunt, "and there's some stuff for ya."

Newt hopped carefully down into the Box, listing the things as he grabbed them. "We've got a hairbrush, some hair ties, clothes, shoes, even shampoo and conditioner, jeez-"

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

No, they couldn't have- oh my God, they did. And Newt was just centimeters away from grabbing them, whether he realized what they were or not.

"Newt!" I shrieked, hoping to divert his attention away from the supplies. He nearly dropped all the things he was holding in surprise and quickly turned to face me.

"What's wrong?"

I didn't even have time to swoon because I was sure my face was turning redder by the second and I had absolutely no time to waste whatsoever. Pointing to some random person by the fields, I told Newt, "I think I just heard them call your name."

"Okay," he said, "Let me just finish getting the stu--"

"No!" I squeaked, my face turning pink. I jumped down into the Box without thinking, which was a really bad idea because it was quite a far drop and I almost broke my ankle. But alas, I made it, and I dashed to the corner, grabbing the packages and stuffing them under my shirt before Newt could see. He was very confused.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you okay? Your face is flushed. We should get going."

"Yeah," I agreed, my voice about ten octaves higher than usual. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, let's-let's do that. Let's go."

Newt was still very perplexed but I didn't plan on telling him why I was acting this way anytime soon.

But hey, at least whoever sent us here had the decency to send period supplies.

With Newt's help, I managed to climb (rather ungracefully, might I add) out of the Box, waiting as he heaved himself out before walking alongside him toward the Homestead.

"If you don't want to tell me you don't have to," he suddenly said. "I'm just curious, that's all."

I could feel the blush rising to my cheeks and didn't know what to say. So, I didn't think and blurted, "I'll be right back," and suddenly I was sprinting ahead of him to the Homestead.

After depositing the "stuff" in rather unclever places (the bunched up sheets at the end of my cot) I ran back outside to find Newt waiting for me patiently.

"I'm back," I announced though it was unnecessary, panting.

"I can see that." Newt handed me a towel and the shampoo and conditioner, along with a bar of soap ("It smells a bit like man, but I hope that's okay") and lead me to the back of the Homestead. There was a little building behind it, almost like wooden outhouses that were connected together, each about the size of four bathroom stalls.

Newt pointed to the one on the far left with a green dot by the handle. "That one's open. Just make sure you turn the lock twice to make it turn red. I'll wait out here just in case someone comes or something."

I smiled gratefully at Newt and stepped into the little room. Inside was a surprisingly well-built shower, made of polished wood and metal shower heads. The curtain was most likely made of moss, but it gave the room an earthy smell that was somehow pleasant.

I removed the bandage from my head and touched the wound. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but just as I suspected, there was dried blood in my hair and it was really gross. Not to mention there were no mirrors, so I didn't get to see what it looked like. Or what I looked like. I realized I had never seen myself before. I could be totally ugly and have no clue.

I wasted no more time in turning on the shower and getting in as quickly as I could, wanting more than anything to feel like I hadn't just rolled in dirt.

It wasn't until I was a quarter way through my shower that I realized I hadn't locked the door at all.

-/-

"Way to go, Dyl," Newt complimented sarcastically when I stepped out of the showering area, feeling cleaner than I'd ever remembered feeling. "Had I not been here, someone could've just walked in. A shank almost did, but I stopped him. Had to threaten to punch him just so he'd go away. Better be more careful next time." He smirked.

"Shut up." I frowned, shoving him playfully, though I was a bit bashful that he was so concerned about my privacy. "Not my fault I wanted to get all of the blood and dirt out of my hair."

I then reached behind me and tried to do a braid down my back, but it wasn't working in the least bit. Newt seemed to notice my struggles and offered to help.

"Um, sure," I said, handing him my new hairbrush. He was shockingly gentle as he ran it through my damp hair and didn't hurt me in the slightest. It wasn't until he parted my hair into three seconds and actually started braiding when my eyes went wide and I felt like I was being sucked away by a vacuum.

"Hey, ow! You're hurting me!"

It was a girl and a boy. I was seeing out of the girl's eyes, but I wasn't sure who it was. I was seated on a hard bed in a stark white room. Bristles were tugging on my hair.

"Sorry," a deep voice laughed and there was more tugging on my hair, but this time more gentle. "I'm trying!"

"Just be slow and try not to tangle my hair into major knots," I told whoever it was.

"No promises," the person joked and I rolled my eyes.

"You're lucky I like you," I sighed. The boy continued to gently brush my hair until it was smooth.

"Okay, now what?"

"Now, part my hair into three sections and cross one over the middle," I instructed, picturing in my mind how to do it and praying I was explaining it correctly. I was more of a show-it-to-them than an explain-it-with-words kind of person.

"I think I have it!" the guy said happily. Seconds later I felt my hair loose. He heaved a heavy sigh. "Never mind."

I laughed. "You'll get it someda-"

"Hey, Dylan, you all right?"

I shook my head and blinked rapidly, clearing my vision. I was in the Glade. There was no white room. And Newt was mere inches from my face.

"Hmm?" I hummed, confused.

"You blanked out for a couple minutes," Newt told me, worry creasing his face. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied. I was really confused. "Did you manage to braid my hair?"

Newt nodded, holding the end of it in front of my face. I was surprised at how good it was. It was almost perfect.

"I don't even want to know how you know how to braid," I joked as Newt stepped back, giving me space. I faintly remembered his fingers in my hair, being gentle as can be while I was daydreaming. Was he just good at everything?

But the feeling was so oddly familiar, like I had experienced it before.

"Cmon, you have work to do," Newt reminded me, but I figured that working would give me time to think about what had just happened.

gif is dylan o'brien trying to be cool and failing (what else is new)

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shoutout to everyone who knows what the disclaimer is from. comment if you do and i'll dedicate a chapter to you bc you are a successful human being.

also, there has been a chosen ship name! newlyn!

dedicated to epika123 because her ship name won yay

-kristyn