Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but I do own all the tears I cried bc The Flash season 1 continued yesterday

EDIT: guys i don't even watch that show anymore lmao i gave up midway through season 2

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After that, I had to go back to work taking care of scraped elbows and bloody noses. My heart wasn't in it, however, and I was screwing up more than usual, which totally sucked because I had already been screwing up, but now I was doing it even more and everything was a huge, jumbled up mess. I couldn't get my mind off of Minho and Alby. Questions flooded my brain, not leaving space for much else, which was the main source of my problems. If Minho didn't come back, then I would be losing a friend. If Alby didn't come back, the Glade would be losing its leader.

My stomach was twisting in knots as more time passed. I was terrified, and I was doing a horrible job at hiding it.

"Dylan, you alright?" Jeff asked. I snapped out of it, noticing I had been biting a hangnail on my thumb and not paying attention at all. I sighed, removing my thumb away from my mouth.

"Yeah," I lied with a dreaded sigh.

Clint frowned, sharing a knowing glance with Jeff. "No, you're not. You know, it's dinner time anyway. How about you stop now, okay?"

I would forever be grateful for Clint. I stood up quickly, happy to be done with my work. "Okay. Thank you guys, really."

The two Med-jacks nodded in response and I quickly left the room, my head swarming with thoughts. I staggered down the stairs of the Homestead and burst outside, breathing in the cool evening air. It filled my lungs and calmed me down ever so slightly. Then I got to the Kitchens and noticed that the Runners were back. But Minho and Alby weren't.

Frypan and his cooks served a grand meal of steak, mashed potatoes, greenbeans, and hot rolls. My guess was that it was to cheer us up a bit and not have us so anxious, at least while we ate.

I found a spot next to Thomas, Chuck, and this guy named Winston. He had a tanned face that was completely covered with acne and his hands were shredded with dried cuts. Something told me he worked in the Blood House.

I barely ate a bite, unable to force the food down when worry was filling up more than half my stomach.

"I can't just sit here and act like everything's fine when they're still out there," I said, dropping my fork on my plate with a loud clatter.

"Want to come with me and watch the Doors with Newt?" Thomas offered, looking as frightened as I probably did. He had stress lines creasing his face and his eyebrows were constantly pushed together.

I nodded and we both stood, walking across the grass to where Newt's figure was standing. Not surprisingly, Chuck followed after us.

We found Newt by the West Door, pacing. He was switching from rubbing his lip with worry to running his hands through his hair. I found the lip thing incredibly attractive. Of course, I didn't say that out loud.

"Where are they?" Newt asked rhetorically as we approached. His voice was timid and strained. I knew Alby was his best friend, and judging by how long Minho had been there, I guessed they were pretty close as well.

"Why don't we send out a search party?" Thomas suggested innocently. Newt stopped and stared at him as if he just told him we should start mating with Grievers.

"Bloody he-" Newt cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "We can't, okay? Don't say it again. One hundred percent against the rules. Especially with the buggin' Doors about to close."

"But why?" Thomas pressed. "Won't the Grievers get them if they stay out there? Shouldn't we do something?"

I sucked in a breath. Wrong move. Newt's face flushed red.

"Shut your hole, Greenie!" he yelled, fury detectable in his usually warm eyes. "Not a bloody week you been here! You think I wouldn't risk my life in a second to save those slugs?"

"Newt-" I started to say, but Thomas cut me off.

"No...I...Sorry. I didn't mean..." he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the grass.

Newt's face softened as he realized how he had blown up. "You don't get it yet, Tommy. Going out there at night is beggin' for death. We'd just be throwin' more lives away. If those shanks don't make it back..." he paused, knowing he had just said what was on everyone's minds. "Both of 'em swore an oath, just like I did. Like we all did. You, too, when you go to your first Gathering and get chosen by a Keeper. Never go out there at night. No matter what. Never."

I glanced at Chuck, who was pale and obviously very scared. "Newt won't say it, so I will. If they're not back, it means they're dead. Minho's too smart to get lost. Impossible. They're dead."

Tears burned in my eyes as that sunk in deep. I thought about life without them. I would walk past Minho's empty room every day, which would have to be replaced by another Keeper of the Runners once they were chosen. I would have to move in Alby's room, because if there was more space, why would I stay with Newt? No more of Minho's sassy comments to make me laugh. No more of Alby's annoying rules for me to roll my eyes at. Newt would be in charge. Newt and his limp that I still didn't understand why he had.

Chuck turned and walked off toward the Homestead, his head hung low. Newt said nothing. I felt a tear roll down my face, then more, and more until I was silently crying a river that no one noticed. Or I thought no one did.

"Hey, Dyl, don't cry."

I looked up through blurry vision to see Newt standing in front of me. He put shaking, clammy hands on my face and wiped the tears away with his thumbs as they fell. It was no use. More and more came flooding down, and Newt knew they couldn't be stopped. So instead, he pulled me to his chest, one hand on my back and the other in my hair, which had mostly fallen out of its braid. I clutched Newt's shirt and cried, and he let me, and although I could tell he wanted to break down as much as I was, he held it in. And I was really, really grateful for Newt.

"The Doors close in two minutes," he mumbled solemnly, still holding onto me tightly. I could sense Thomas's presence as he came closer, and I felt his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. Newt gently pulled me away from him and I wiped my face with my sleeves. "I have to get back to the others."

And he turned with one final sad, wounded glance at the Maze, then left.

I stared out at the Maze with Thomas by my side, hoping, praying that either Alby or Minho - or, better yet, both - would show themselves.

"They can't die," I said, my voice trembling and weak through the tears that were still falling. "They can't. Minho is too strong. Alby wouldn't let himself go. They-" I took a breath and a strangled sob escaped. Thomas wasted no time in putting his arms around my shoulders, "can't! Thomas, they can't be- they can't be dead."

It was like the whole universe hated me and wanted to prove me wrong. As soon as I finished my sentence, a loud boom echoed through the Glade. The sound of stone against stone filled my ears. My heart dropped into my stomach when I realized what it was; the Doors were closing.

"No," I whispered, disbelief filling every inch of me. They had to come back. They had to! "No!"

"Dylan," Thomas spoke quietly, "they're not coming back."

More tears fell at an impossibly fast pace until I couldn't even make out the things around me. That was probably why I thought I was imagining things when I saw movement come from inside the Maze. I curled into Thomas, worried it was a Griever or something, but then I blinked and noticed it was two figures stumbling toward the Doors. It was Minho with Alby's arm draped across his shoulders, basically dragging him along.

They weren't going to make it.

Minho looked up, saw me and Thomas, and shouted, his voice strained and cracking, "They got him!"

They weren't going to make it.

"Newt!" Thomas screamed, making me wince at the sound directly by my ear. "They're coming! I can see 'em!"

He let me go and I almost fell over, my eyes glued onto Minho's movements and Alby's lifeless body. Every sound faded into background noise, all other objects becoming unfocused except for them.

They weren't going to make it.

I barely noticed Newt running toward us. Minho had dropped Alby. He pulled, trying desperately to get him back on his feet. Finally giving up on that, he began to drag him across the floor of the Maze. They were a hundred feet away.

They weren't going to make it.

"They aren't going to make it," I mumbled, my eyes wide and body rigid. My heart thudded dangerously in my chest and I was afraid it would burst. Newt was only halfway to us. He wouldn't stop me.

Minho stumbled and fell to the ground, taking Alby down with him. Time was up. That was it. He'd given up.

They weren't going to make it.

Newt's voice barely registered as I placed a foot behind me, ready to sprint into the Maze. "Don't you do it, Dylan! Don't you bloody do it!"

Everything was going in slow motion. Thomas was turning toward me, suddenly aware that I was getting ready to run. Newt was still shouting. Minho was still on the ground.

My breath was shallow, still not steady from my previous sobbing. My lips pressed into a thin line. The Maze Doors closed even further.

It was now or never.

Not thinking twice, not paying attention to Newt's despairing shouts that probably attracted the attention of the entire Glade, not thinking about how this was probably all for nothing and I was going to die, I took a deep breath before sprinting, squeezing through the Doors. I felt Thomas's fingers brush my arm like he was trying to stop me, but I knew he was hot on my tracks and probably half a step behind.

But Newt's final scream before the Maze Doors closed for the night was not for Minho, not for Alby, and not for Thomas. It was for me. The strangled, entirely desperate wail was the last thing I heard before the stone walls met each other and I was trapped in the Maze.

"Dylan!"

gif is thomas running into the maze after dylan

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this is so shOrt and disgusting but i can literally not go on nope the feels are too much

dedicated to @WeGotThatWeasleySwag bc the user is perf and their comments > nutella

ps the newlyn moments in here i cri

-kristyn