Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but seriously how long is this freaking book I didn't expect it to have so many chapters especially when I combined like six together wtf

-✼-

The bedroom door opened suddenly, but I didn't make any effort to move— mostly because I could tell it was Newt just by the sound of his footsteps. I laid motionless on my cot, my mind clouded over with thoughts. My hands were folded on my stomach, my thumbs tapping my skin to give me something to do.

Newt sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand in his. I turned my head to see him grinning down wearily at me with closed lips.

"Did Thomas get back?" I asked quietly. He had been in the Maze for hours, and I was extremely worried. What if he had gotten lost or injured? The Doors closed a few minutes ago. Was he still out there?

"Yeah, don't worry," Newt replied, making me relax. "Got back only minutes before the Doors closed. According to Matt, Keeper of the Sloppers, he ran straight into the Deadheads and hasn't been seen since."

I pursed my lips, let go of Newt's hand, and sat up, swinging my legs around so I was sitting next to him with our feet on the floor. "That's weird. Is he okay? Did something happen?"

Newt thought for a moment. "Well, I took him to see the girl—"

"You what?" I demanded with my eyes wide. "Why?"

"To see if she sparked any memories," Newt answered calmly. "And she did. Thomas said he definitely knew her from somewhere. He figured out her name— Teresa. Then he just went whack, sayin' he heard her bloody speakin' to him in his head. It looked like poor Tommy was going mad. He had his hands pressed against his ears like he was tryin' to block out a deafening sound. I dunno...it was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Then he just ran off, that slinthead."

I creased my eyebrows and thought hard. Thomas couldn't be lying, could he? I didn't think so. There was something off about that girl, Teresa. Or maybe it wasn't her, it was the Creators.

"Thomas wouldn't lie about it," I said, "I know that. Maybe...whatever the Creators did to them is the cause of this."

"They're messed up," Newt agreed, "but they've been helpin' us stay alive for two years. Why would they suddenly do something that jeopardizes our sanity?"

I stared blankly at him, waiting a few moments to respond, and I spoke slowly when I did. "Newt, in case you haven't noticed, they put us in the center of a giant Maze with mechanical monsters that try to kill us. I don't think they care much about our safety or sanity."

Things were quiet for a moment and I stared straight ahead at the wall opposite of us. The only sound was our breathing. Suddenly I heard Newt inhale deeply and then he asked, "What happened in your Changing?"

The question surprised me and I looked at him. "What?"

He was already turned towards me and he had a troubled look on his face. "At the Gathering, you said your Changing was wrong or somethin'. What did you mean?"

I looked down, thinking of how to explain that I saw myself, that I was in the room of the Homestead with them while not actually being there. How could I put it into words?

"Dylan?"

I had taken too long to respond. Newt placed his hand over mine, ducking his head down. He used his other hand to tilt my chin up.

"It was crazy," I found myself saying before I was prepared. "It started off with a memory...of...us..." I was getting embarrassed. But why?

"What one?" Newt asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

"We were running down a hallway playing, like, Military or something."

A smile took over Newt's face. "I remember that."

His words confused me. What had he said when I first woke up? Something like, "I did not wait two years for you not to remember."

"What do you mean, you remember?" I questioned.

"We're talking about you right now," Newt dismissed. "I'll answer that later."

I sighed, mentally reminding myself to remember to ask him again. "Okay...uh...then there was the memory of Thomas, which you already know about. That's when the word 'twins' popped into my head. Then when the important things were over, the scene kind of just" — I searched for the right word — "morphed in front of my eyes. Thomas aged until he looked as he currently does, and I was sitting next to him on a bed in the Homestead. Minho, Chuck, Clint, and you were there too. I saw myself in the room, going through the Changing—"

"That's bloody insane." Newt cut me off, shaking his head in disbelief. Something else escaped his lips— was it a laugh?. "There's no way you were there with us, spiritually or whatever."

"You're going to be Newt the Dead if you cut me off again."

It took a second, but my words had the intended effect. Newt's eyes went wide in realization and his jaw dropped a little.

"'Once upon a time, there were three Gladers trapped in the Maze,'" I continued, quoting Minho.

"Holy..." Newt's words faded into nothing as he watched me with eyes the size of small planets.

"'After successfully luring four Grievers off the Cliff, they were feeling very triumphant—"

Newt stood, his mouth all the way open and his hand in front of it. He took a step forward then turned to look at me. "How on Earth—"

"That's not all," I continued. "After that, everything went black and I heard voices. They said something was going wrong with my Changing and they couldn't control what I was seeing. I think it was the Creators."

Newt suddenly turned very serious. His jaw snapped shut and his eyes returned to their normal size. "You have to be absolutely certain."

"One of them was named Dr. Holt," I told him. "That sounds pretty official to me. Then I felt like I was being held underwater and drowning. And then I woke up."

Newt put his hands on my shoulders and before I could blink, he had leaned down and kissed me quickly. His lips were on mine for barely a second before he pulled away. And by the time I had opened my eyes, he had already bolted from the room.

I waited a few minutes and heard some shouting from down the hall, and several thuds loud enough to be tiny bombs. Then a door slammed and footsteps became louder. Newt returned, looking grumpy.

"I tried to tell Minho but he threw stuff at me and screamed at me to go away," he explained. I laughed. That was so Minho.

Newt glared at me. "Not funny. He hit me in the face with a book. It hurt."

"Aww," I fake sympathized. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it feel better?"

"Yes."

I rolled my eyes. "Too bad. Go to sleep."

"How rude," Newt said as he turned off the light. "Goodnight, Dylan."

"Night, Newt." I laid down and buried myself under the covers. Closing my eyes, I tried to fall asleep but instead found myself laughing.

"What?" Newt asked from the other side of the room.

"Night Newt." I laughed even harder as I said it out loud again. "Night Newt."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

-/-

"So here's the run-down," Newt said the next morning. "You get one day in the Slammer with Thomas and then you begin training to be Runners. Good that?"

"Yes!" I jumped excitedly. In spite of my nerves, I couldn't wait to start my training. Finally, I could do something more than wandering around all day. I'd actually have things to do and I'd belong somewhere.

We walked down to breakfast and I saw Chuck and Thomas. Abandoning Newt, I ran to greet them.

"You idiot," I growled at Thomas and slapped him upside the head.

"Ow! Hey!" My brother glared at me and rubbed the spot where I hit him, grimacing in pain. "That's not nice."

I shrugged. We got some food and sat down at a table. I half expected Newt to sit with us, but he was talking to some younger Glader.

"Hey, Chuck," Thomas said as he ate his eggs. "Did they ever find Gally?"

"No," Chuck replied emotionlessly. "I was gonna tell you— someone said they saw him run out into the Maze after he left the Gathering. Hasn't been seen since."

I paused mid-chew, my eyes doubling in size. Surely Gally didn't survive the night. If he did, he'd be back. As much as I strongly disliked Gally, no one deserved to be stuck out there at night, especially by themselves.

Thomas's fork fell out of his hand. "What? You're serious? He went into the Maze?"

I still hadn't continued to chew the toast in my mouth, staring wide-eyed at my plate.

"Yeah," Chuck said casually. "Everyone knows he went nuts; some shank even accused you of killing him when you went out there yesterday."

'Of course they did,' I thought, my stomach twisting. 'Everything is always Thomas's fault around here, never anybody else's.'

"I can't believe..." Thomas trailed off, not able to find the words.

"Don't worry about it, dude." Chuck waved it off. "No one liked him except for his shuck cronies. They're the ones accusing you of stuff." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn to me. "Dylan, you okay?"

I swallowed the toast without chewing any more of it and drank some water to force it down. "He's probably dead and you're acting like he went away on a tropical vacation. Look, Chuck, you know I disliked him as much as the next Glader, but no one deserves the fate of being killed by a Griever. No one, no matter what they did." Except maybe Ben, I mentally added. There was no hope for Ben.

Chuck thought for a moment. "I don't think he's dead."

"Huh?" Thomas looked puzzled. "Then where is he? Aren't Minho, Dylan, and I the only ones who've survived a night out there?"

"That's what I'm saying," Chuck elaborated. "I think his buddies are hiding him inside the Glade somewhere. Gally was an idiot, but he couldn't possibly be stupid enough to stay out in the Maze all night. Like you."

Thomas shook his head. "Maybe that's exactly why he stayed out there. Wanted to prove he could do anything Dylan and I could do. The guy hates us." A pause. "Hated us."

"Or maybe he got lost," I guessed. "Injured, maybe. What if he couldn't come back?"

"Well, whatever." Chuck shrugged. "If he's dead, you guys'll probably find him eventually. If not, he'll get hungry and show up to eat. I don't care."

It was annoying me how passive he was being about this. How could he not care that Gally was missing or possibly dead?

"If it was me, would you care?" I asked Chuck.

His expression became an equal mix of confusion and surprise. "Of course."

"Well, why am I different from Gally?"

Chuck blinked as if my question was incredibly stupid. "You're my friend and Gally is mean to everyone. He threatened to kill Thomas."

"He wouldn't actually do it," I countered. Chuck was a difficult person to deal with, that was for sure. I was determined to get my point across.

"I beg to differ."

Even if Gally had some sort of vexation toward Thomas and I, I doubted he'd actually try to kill my brother. He was probably just concerned because our arrival somehow triggered something in the Glade that made everything different. If I were in his place, I'd be suspicious, too.

Chuck rolled his eyes. I felt a tug of annoyance again. While the younger boy was one of my close friends, sometimes he could be narrow-minded. I wondered if he fully understood what it meant for Gally to disappear in such a way. He was still a person. 

Thomas opened his mouth to add something, only to be cut off by a familiar voice from behind me.

"Come on, ya buggin' jailbirds," Newt said lightly, apparently not detecting the tension between the three of us. "You can take it easy while you're hangin' in the Slammer. Let's go. Chucky'll bring ya some lunch at noon."

Thomas nodded and Newt turned, ready to lead us over to our new home for the day. I quickly stuffed one last bite of food in my mouth before eagerly standing up from the table. Even if I wasn't particularly excited about being locked up, I understood that I had broken a rule. And, besides, it gave me time to think.

The Slammer was between the Homestead and a wall of the Maze, thorny bushes obscuring it from view. It was one giant block of concrete with two tiny barred windows on either side. There were also two doors locked with rusty latches. The feel of the place caused a shiver to run down my spine.

Newt took out a key ring and unlocked the first door. Thomas stepped inside, hunched over like he was trying to make himself appear small. Goosebumps rose on his skin at the cold air.

"Have fun," Newt commented before he shut the door and locked it. He then led me to the other side, pulling that door open. I physically groaned when I saw that there was only a single, tiny chair in the room. A wall separated mine and Thomas's cells, another barred window connecting them.

"In you go," Newt urged, giving me a small push.

I walked inside. "I hate this."

The door closed behind me, a heavy thud that echoed in the small cell.

I heard Newt's voice shouting at us and went to the window to look out, but discovered I was too short. I grabbed the bars and stood up the very tips of my toes, but I was still only able to see about an inch of outside.

"Nice reward for breakin' the rules. You two saved some lives, but you still need to learn—"

Thomas cut him off. "Yeah, we know. Order."

I could sense that annoying little smile of Newt's as he replied, "You're not half bad, shank. But friends or no, gotta run things properly, keep us buggers alive. Think about that while ya sit here and stare at the bloody walls."

And his voice stopped, so I guessed he was gone.

gif is dylan arguing

____________

hello, i feel like I havent updated in F O R E V E R for some reason.

dedicated to tylergposey :))))))

-kristyn