Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, so I created a summary for it:

Newt: Tommy don't do the thing

Minho: I'm gonna insult you if you do the thing

Thomas: I'm gonna do the thing

Alby: You did the thing didn't you

Alby:

Alby:

Alby: He definitely did the thing

-✼-

The moment those words left my mouth, Gally's eyes widened to the size of golf balls, then filled with rage. It was fast as lightning. He grabbed my arm painfully tightly and forced me to walk alongside him again even as I attempted to escape. Whacking the weak points of his arm with my fist didn't do anything. It seemed he was looking for Newt, and it didn't take much to find him— he was basically right in front of the Homestead.

"Let her go," Newt ordered angrily, pointing at the hand that was gripping on my arm and holding me in place. Chuck and Thomas were now flanked on either side of Newt like a small gang.

"Repeat what you just said," commanded Gally, yanking my arm and making me cry out as pain shot up my limbs. I would have hit him to force him to release me, but I didn't think that was the best idea given our sour history. "Repeat it!"

"I'll only listen to the real leader of this Glade," I hissed through clenched teeth, my face twisted in anger as much as Gally's was. We all looked toward Newt, who had his jaw set tight.

"Let her go," he repeated somewhat calmly compared to how he said it before, "or I won't be the only one bloody limping here."

Newt's face told me he didn't like mentioning his limp and I felt a surge of sorrow for him. Poor Newt. What had happened?

Gally scowled deeply at him for a few seconds before letting me go grudgingly. I glared sharply at him, rubbing my forearm where he had held me as I walked to Thomas's side. My brother. It was so weird how I knew about us being siblings but he didn't. It even saddened me to really consider the barrier between us now. I had to tell him, and soon.

Newt folded his arms across his chest. "Gally, what's gotten you so worked up?"

"You'd know if you had let me make her talk," Gally countered. "It's something she just said. It's vital."

Newt glanced back at me and could tell immediately that I didn't want to give Gally the satisfaction of possibly humiliating me. He turned back toward the Keeper of the Builders and responded carefully, "Well, you said yourself the Gathering was tomorrow, yeah?"

Gally frowned. "Yes, but—"

Newt clapped his hands together, making the Keeper of the Builders jump. "There you have it. She'll say whatever it is tomorrow at the Gathering. No rain checks."

Gally's frown deepened and he stormed off. Chuck, Thomas, Newt, and I all relaxed once the tension in the air disappeared.

Chuck turned toward me, his eyes wide with awe. "Shuck, Dylan, what'd you say to him?"

I chose my response cautiously, not wanting to give too much away. "Something I learned while in the Changing."

Newt shot a troubled glance my way, raising an eyebrow. He didn't have to say a word for me to know what he was silently asking me. I discreetly shook my head.

"What was it?" Thomas pressed curiously.

I didn't want to cause a scene here, not now. "Wait till the Gathering."

Then, as we all went our separate ways (Chuck to his job and Thomas to wandering around aimlessly), Newt put an arm around me and started walking with me. "I just hope whatever you have to say doesn't get anyone killed."

I leaned into his shoulder and sighed comfortably. "That I can't make a promise to."

-/-

The next morning, bright and early, Thomas and I sat in the middle of a semicircle of the Keepers and Newt. The spot directly in front of us was completely empty because I was seated in Alby's chair due to the lack of extras.

We sat in a room of the Homestead that was empty except for us and a small table pushed into the corner. The absence of windows made the room dim and smell of mildew. Thomas suddenly shivered, even though it wasn't cold. I sat with my back straight and chin high, even though I was shaking slightly and my hands were clammy.

Newt sat in the chair to the left of Alby's empty spot. "In place of our leader, sick in bed, I declare this Gathering begun," he said with a roll of his eyes like he hated the formalities. "As you all know, the last few days have been bloody crazy, and quite a bit has seemed centered around our Greenbeans, Tommy and Dylan, seated before us."

Thomas's face flushed. My hand twitched. Were these Gally's words coming out of Newt's mouth, or his? I couldn't be sure, but I knew he wasn't as skeptical of me as he might've been of Thomas.

"They're not the Greenbeans anymore," Gally argued sourly. "They're just rulebreakers now."

Words could not describe how much I wanted to punch him in the face.

Gally's words set off a rumbling of murmurs and whispers, but Newt shushed them. I really wanted to just get the stupid meeting over with.

"Gally," Newt warned, "try to keep some buggin' order here. After all, you were the one who called this bloody Gathering anyway, am I right? If you're going to blabber your shuck mouth every time I say something, you can go ahead and leave, because I'm not in a very cheerful mood."

Praise Newt.

Gally leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. The scowl on his face made him look like a pouting five-year-old. I was sure that if he kept frowning like that, one day his mouth would just be stuck in that way forever.

Newt stared coldly at Gally, then continued on. "Glad we got that out of the way." He rolled his eyes again. "Reason we're here is because almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me boohooing about Thomas or beggin' to take Dylan's hand in marriage. We need to decide what we're gonna do with them."

Gally leaned forward to speak, but Newt cut him off before he could.

"You'll have your chance, Gally. One at a time. And Thomas, Dylan, you're not allowed to say a buggin' thing until we ask you to. Good that?" He waited for a sign of understanding, which I nodded to. Then he pointed to my good old friend Zart. "Zart the Fart, you start."

Wow, Newt was so great at poetry. Apparently the others thought so too because they snickered as Zart shifted in his seat. He looked over to us.

"Well," he began, his eyes darting around like he was waiting for someone to tell him what to say. "I don't know. They broke one of our most important rules. We can't just let people think that's okay." His dull blue eyes glanced at me and then he looked down at his hands. "But then again...Dylan was great when she was working for me. Sweet girl" — Gally scoffed — "when she doesn't have someone nagging or provoking her. She and Thomas...they changed things. Now we know we can survive out there, and that we can beat the Grievers."

I smiled at Zart, thankful for his kindness when I barely knew him. I mouthed, "Thank you," to which he replied with a small grin.

"Oh, give me a break," Gally blurted. "I bet Minho's the one who actually got rid of the stupid things."

"Gally, shut your hole!" Newt yelled, standing up for more effect. "I'm in the bloody Chair right now, and if I hear one more buggin' word out of turn from you, I'll be arranging another Banishing for your butt."

Wow. When Newt had told me that morning he wasn't feeling very cheerful for some reason, he really meant it. Instead of his familiar, patient demeanor, he was short-tempered and everything seemed to be setting him off.

"Please," Gally whispered sarcastically, slouching back in his chair again.

Newt sat back down and motioned to Zart. "Is that it? Any official recommendations?"

Zart shook his head.

"Okay. You're next, Frypan."

The cook smiled and sat up straighter. "The shanks have got more guts than I've fried up from every pig and cow in the last year. How stupid is this— they save Alby's life, kill a couple of Grievers, and we're sittin' here yappin' about what to do with them. As Chuck would say, this is a pile of klunk."

Frypan was officially my new best friend.

"So what're ya recommendin'?" Newt asked.

"Put 'em on the freaking Council and have them train us on everything they did out there."

Voices erupted from everywhere in the room, and it took Newt a while to calm everyone down. My eyes were wide. I didn't know what the Council was (maybe this was it) but it sounded pretty serious. I didn't want that type of responsibility; I hadn't been there long enough to even have a real job.

"All right, writin' it down," Newt said as he scribbled on a notepad. "Now everyone keep their bloody mouths shut, I mean it. You know the rules — no idea's unacceptable — and you'll all have your say when we vote on it." He finished writing and pointed to a nameless kid next to Frypan.

"I don't really have an opinion," the kid said, brushing a piece of dirty blond hair out of his eyes.

"What?" Newt demanded angrily. "Lot of good it did to choose you for the Council, then."

So I was right. This was the Council.

"Sorry, I honestly don't." He shrugged. "If anything, I agree with Frypan. Why punish them for saving someone's life?"

"So, Matt, you do have an opinion— that's it?" Newt insisted, ready to write.

The boy nodded and Newt wrote it down. I started to relax more. Though Newt's anger had me slightly wary, all these people on our side must've been good.

Winston was next. "I think they should be punished. No offense, Greenies, but Newt, you're the one always harping about order. If we don't punish them, we'll set a bad example. They broke our Rule Number One."

"Okay." Newt scribbled on his paper. "So you're recommendin' punishment. What kind?"

"I think they both should be put in the Slammer for a week with only bread and water- and we need to make sure everyone knows about it so they don't get any ideas."

My jaw almost dropped and my heart fell and Gally clapped in delight. The Slammer for a week; only bread and water? I could understand a few days, but a week seemed extreme, especially if we were to be fed that diet the entire time.

Two more Keepers spoke. One sided with Frypan, the other with Winston. So far it was 4-2 in favor of our freedom. Then it was Newt's turn, and a flicker of hope rose in me despite his attitude.

"I agree with the lot of ya," he said while doing that lip rub thing he did. "They should be punished, but we need to figure out how to use 'em. I'm reserving my recommendation until I hear everyone out. Next."

I understood where the talk of punishment came from. As much as I believed I had done the right thing — after all, we had saved both Minho and Alby's lives — we had also broken a major rule. I just hoped Winston's idea wouldn't win.

Further down the line it went, with some wanting punishment, others praise, some both. I wasn't really listening, mostly because I was anticipating Minho and Gally's answers.

Gally was first. "I think I've made my opinions pretty clear already."

"Good that," Newt said. "Go on then, Minho."

"No!" Gally yelled, making me and a few others jump. "I still wanna say something."

"Then bloody say it," Newt countered.

"Just think about it." Here it goes again. "These slintheads come up in the Box, acting all confused and scared. A few days later, they're already running around the Maze with Grievers, acting like they own the place."

I wanted to say, "You think being stung by a Griever is me acting like I own the place?!" but I didn't, obeying Newt's rule to be quiet. However, I did have to bite my lip extremely hard to prevent anything from slipping out.

Gally continued. "I think it was all an act. How could they have done what they did in just a few days? I ain't buyin' it."

"What're you tryin' to say, Gally?" Newt demanded, mouth pulled in a frown and eyebrows pinched in annoyance. "How 'bout having a bloody point?"

"I think they're spies from the people who put us here- sibling spies."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. Us? Spies? I couldn't imagine Thomas as a spy- he'd probably fall on his face or blow his cover in a dumb way. And me? I'd have too much trouble refraining from punching people in the face when I was supposed to be posing as their friend or something.

But my laughter was only a minuscule sound in comparison to all the racket that was going on. As soon as Gally had finished his sentence, an instant uproar filled the room. Newt finally got everyone calmed down, but Gally still wasn't finished.

"That's right. You heard me. Dylan told me herself. Siblings, they are. Twins. That's why they can't be trusted. Day after they show up, girl who's even crazier than Dylan comes, spoutin' off that things are going to change, clutching that freaky note. We find a dead Griever. Thomas and Dylan conveniently find themselves in the Maze for the night, then try to convince everyone they're heroes. Well, neither Minho nor anyone else actually saw him do anything in the vines. How do we know if it was the Greenies who tied him up there?"

I was reaching my breaking point. Anger was flooding through me, crashing around. It wouldn't be long before the dam on my mouth broke.

"There's too many weird things going on, and it all started when these shuck-faced Greenies showed up. And they just happen to be the first people to survive a night out in the Maze. Something ain't right, and until we figure it out, I officially recommend that we lock their butts in the Slammer— for a month, and then have another review."

More rumblings broke out, and Newt wrote on his notepad. He was biting his lip, his ears tinged red as he shook his head.

"Finished, Captain Gally?" he asked.

"Quit being such a smart aleck, Newt," Gally spat, his face flushing. "I'm dead serious. How can we trust these shanks after a week? Quit voting me down before you can even think about what I'm saying."

I knew Newt would never consider Gally's testimony. He and I had known each other before the Glade, before this whole mess. He wouldn't believe I was a spy, would he?

"Fine, Gally," Newt said, though I could tell he was just trying to make peace. "I'm sorry. We heard you, and we'll all consider your bloody recommendation. Are you done?"

"Yes, I'm done. And I'm right."

That was the last straw. My fists were clenched so tightly together that my nails dug deeply into my palms, threatening to tear the skin. My lips pressed together as hard as I could make them to keep me from exploding. I felt like my body temperature had risen to above a hundred degrees.

"Is Dylan all right?" Frypan asked worriedly. All of the Keepers' gazes landed on me.

"I think she wants to say something," Zart noted. "Looks like she's gonna implode, listenin' to your rule, Newt."

Everyone looked at Newt, who was rubbing his lip again. After a moment, he sighed and nodded. "Go ahead, Dyl. You can talk just this once."

And the bomb exploded.

I stood up so quickly my chair fell over. Where did I even begin? I didn't know, so I just didn't think and let all that was pent up inside of me flow out.

"I'm sorry, Gally, but I think I just lost a few brain cells from your idiotic logic. Yeah, you're right— you don't even know us, so what gives you the right to judge? But you know who does know me? Thomas knows me, though he doesn't remember. Me and Thomas are siblings, yes. Twins, yes. And God, do you ever just stop and think for a moment? Do you think I wanted to be locked in the Maze all night with the constant fear that one of us would die? Or all of us? I had to worry about Alby, the leader of this shucking place, because I knew you'd all wreak havoc without him. And you are! This place is so messed up. Everyone's confused. I had to instill some hope in Minho that maybe, just maybe, we could make it out. And Thomas? He was the only one who kept me sane that entire night.

Do you think I wanted to be stung by a Griever? To undergo the Changing, which, undoubtedly, was one of the most terrible experiences I can think of? I remembered some crazy things. My Changing went wrong - I saw and heard some things I shouldn't have - and I don't know why. I don't know why any of this is happening. I don't know. So please, just think about other people's points of views before you blame all your problems on us."

It was silent. Absolutely silent. The stillness was so absolute that there was nothing but a ringing sound. Gally stared at me like I had gone up to him and physically slapped him in the face. Newt was trying to fight off a grin while writing and Thomas looked like he wanted to go up and hug me. The rest of the Gladers just sat and stared with wide eyes.

I sat back down, and right as I did, Minho stood up. All eyes flickered to him. "I was there; I saw what these two nutheads did — they stayed strong while I turned into a panty-wearin' chicken. No blabbin' on and on like Gally. I want to say my recommendation and be done with it."

I held my breath, anxious for what he would say.

"Good that," said Newt. "Tell us, then."

Minho looked at my brother and I. "I nominate one of these shanks to replace me as Keeper of the Runners."

gif is newt doing that lip rub thing siGH

____________

greetings! i know i had you hanging off a cliff with that last one so i tried to update quickly, but alas softball and homework are getting in the way of my writing time. sigh.

i hope you guys liked dylans outburst because lets be real- you know i couldnt just have her be completely calm and fine with what gally said about her and thomas.

dedicated to primsbraids bc their comments made me smile like this ((((((:

~kristyn, who's really mad bc it started snOWING TWO NIGHTS AGO??????