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Minho: It's a bird!

Newt: It's a plane!

Gally: It's my eyebrows!

-✼-

"Float cat?" Newt asked after we had successfully put together two words. "Doesn't sound like a bloody rescue code to me."

"We just need to keep working," Thomas asserted with determination evident on his face. Now that we had created actual words, he was starting to get more and more into it.

About a minute later, it was apparent that the second word was CATCH. FLOAT and CATCH weren't exactly helpful phrases, but I was willing to wait to see the outcome.

"Definitely not a coincidence," Minho commented. His eyes scanned the words, eyebrows pinched as the gears in his head turned. 

"Definitely not," Thomas agreed, clearly excited that the Keeper was starting to warm up to the idea.

Teresa swung her arm back toward the full storage closet. "We need to go through all of them— all those boxes in there."

"Yeah." Thomas nodded. "Let's get on it."

"We can't help," Minho informed. All of us glared at him, giving him hard looks that he returned. "At least not me, Thomas, and Dylan here. We need to get the Runners out in the Maze."

"What?" Thomas asked incredulously, his eyebrows raising along with his voice. "This is way more important!"

"Minho, you've been waiting for another clue for months," I reminded him sternly. I gestured to the Maps with an angry look on my face. "Now you've got one! And you want us to leave? Make up your mind!"

Minho rounded on me, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "We can't risk a day out there. Not now."

"It's the same thing every day," I pressed. "What else could you possibly find?"

Minho's face was almost red with fury, his jaw set tightly and fists clenched. He was shaking. "One more disrespectful word from you and I'll kick you off to become a Slopper."

"Go ahead!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air in exasperation. I was tired of the fact that he was starting to treat me as a lesser being. I missed when things were so light-hearted between us; when we shared a room and were best friends.

"Fine." Minho's eyes darted around the room. They landed back on me after he had finished inspecting Newt, Thomas, and Teresa's shocked faces. "I, Minho, Keeper of the Runners, formally fire Dylan from her position that she was incredibly lucky to have." He turned toward the door, clearly not wanting to look at me. "C'mon, Thomas."

I watched, full of anger, as the Runner stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him. Thomas shot me a sorrowful look as he followed obediently behind him like a training puppy. The door shut much more softly when he left.

I stood still for a few moments. My body felt like it had risen to a million degrees, fists sweaty and face flushed in anger. I didn't want to be a Runner in the first place, but being fired like that in front of my friends was embarrassing. I slowly relaxed my body and let out controlled breaths before turning to the remaining two.

Newt and Teresa couldn't hide the expressions of complete shock on their faces. Teresa's mouth was parted in a gape, her jaw slack and hands resting on the table that she leaned on. Newt's brown eyes were widened as far as they could go, eyebrows raised into his hair. I tried my best to ignore these features.

"Newt," I said as calmly as I could. My voice betrayed me by shaking. "Could I speak to you, please?"

Newt's eyes flickered to me and quickly went back to their normal size. He cleared his throat awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, um, of course."

I turned on my heel and walked out of the room without another word. He followed behind at a safe distance. We stepped out into the hallway, where distant shouts of Gladers from elsewhere in the Homestead could faintly be heard. I stopped a few feet from the door. Newt stood in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest, an interested look on his face.

Even though I should've been the most comfortable with Newt, my hands were still clammy and something uncomfortable settled in my gut. For the past day or so, things had been odd between us. The conversation we were about to have may have been the longest one since the night of Gally's return. 

"I know Minho can't fire me," I began, "that's Alby's decision. But I was wondering if I could make a request to switch jobs. Is that allowed?"

Newt paused to think for a moment, then shifted his weight onto his right foot. "Yeah, I suppose you could. As a Runner-in-Training, you technically don't have the job yet. You could switch it anytime."

I forced a smile onto my face. "Great!" The smile dropped. "I quit now."

Pushing past him, I tried to walk away, but Newt grabbed my arm before I could. A soft laugh escaped his lips and caught me by surprise. "Hold on, there. You still have to give a worthy explanation as to why you'd want to switch, and what you'd want to train to be."

I contemplated this for about two seconds before responding. "I want to stop being a Runner because I suck at it, and I just feel it's not for me. I guess it was mostly adrenaline fueling me in the Maze. I can't sprint that long for my life." I paused, looking right into his slightly cheerful eyes as I continued. "And I want to be a Track-hoe."

Newt's hand went slack and released my arm. His face scrunched in a split second of confusion before hardening into anger. "No."

I was caught off-guard, not having expected a negative response. "What? What do you mean, 'no'?"

"No," he repeated firmly. "Dylan, the names they'd call you-"

"I don't care!" I exclaimed, cutting him off. "They can call me names all they want, and I won't listen because I'll be doing something I enjoy. I shouldn't have to worry about harassment when I'm doing a simple job that no one else gets called out for. Is it because I'm a girl that they think it's okay? It shouldn't be that big of a deal- I'd be another Glader just working in the Gardens, and that's how I want to be seen."

Newt was silent for a few moments, face still clouded in that fierce look of anger. Slowly, it melted. "You're right- you shouldn't have to worry about it. In fact, let's go to Alby and request it right now. I can't wait to see the look on those slintheads' faces when you call them out for their irrelevant and disgusting cat-calls."

And with that, Newt spun around and opened the door where the Maps were being kept. He popped his head in and mumbled something to Teresa. I was surprised she had stayed in there by herself for that long, but I assumed she had been working on setting up the rest of the Maps. At least one of us stayed concentrated.

Newt didn't even pause once we were outside. He broke right into a run as soon as we stepped onto the back porch, his neck craning around to find Alby.

"Looking for Alby?" Jackson asked, sweat dripping down his face and his chest heaving. A hammer in his hand told me that he was a Builder. "He's in the Homestead. Med-jacks' room."

Newt gave a nod of thanks to Jackson. We went back inside the building and up the back stairs, twisting down an unfamiliar series of hallways until we eventually reached the room Jackson told us. Newt twisted the knob and pulled the door open, letting me in first. I stepped inside cautiously.

Alby was half-asleep, eyes partially closed as he laid with a huge bandage wrapped around his head. He looked tired and awful, skin dotted with beads of sweat and lines of exhaustion under his eyes.

"Alby?" Newt said with a gentle tone, closing the door softly. He walked to the edge of his friend's bed and crouched down. "Dylan has a request to switch from being a Runner to a Track-hoe."

Alby opened his chapped lips just enough to speak. "Do whatever the shuck you want. I don't give a klunk no more."

Newt's expression switched to one of mild concern and he stood up. "Um, there you have it. You're a Track-hoe now. I'd suggest telling Zart."

"Okay," I said, heading out the door and back outside. I searched the busy Glade until I found the Gardens. Zart could clearly be seen from where I was standing, his figure bent over and hard at work. I ran over to him, dodging fellow Gladers until I reached his side.

Automatically, Zart sensed I was there and looked up from where he was planting carrot seeds. "Oh, hey there, Dylan. What can I do for you?"

"I'm a Track-hoe now," I replied bluntly.

Zart's eyebrows pinched together. "This isn't a time for jokes."

"I'm not joking," I assured with my face devoid of any expression. "I switched jobs."

Zart directed his confused gaze back to the ground. "Uh, okay. You can start tomorrow, I guess."

"Great!" I shouted happily, a genuine smile on my face. "Thanks, Zart."

I left the Gardens and headed toward the bathrooms. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I still had to return to Teresa down in that room, but she would have to wait a few minutes.

When I was heading out of the little room, a boy that I recognized as Max walked by. He was a tall, slim boy with golden skin and hair black as the night sky. When he saw me, a smirk formed on his lips. "How are you doing, Dylan?"

I noticed that he had a slight gap between his front teeth. Shrugging, I replied, "Alright."

His smirk deepened. "I know what could make it even better."

I internally groaned but kept my face blank. I didn't need him to know that I was affected by his words that were making me feel increasingly uncomfortable.

I stepped down onto the grass and continued to show no reaction as he came a tiny bit closer, dark eyes locked on mine. "We could start in that shower room right there."

I blinked at him. "No thanks."

Max laughed humorlessly, tooth gap on full display. He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. "Oh, c'mon. Don't be a bore! I promise it'll be fun. No one would have to know; it would just be the two of us—"

WHAM!

Max cried out as my fist slammed hard directly into his cheek, knocking him down to the ground. My breath caused my shoulders to heave as I stood over him with a threatening glare. My knuckles ached from the hard hit to his jaw, but I didn't mind. In all honesty, it felt kind of good.

Max scrambled up to his feet, calloused hand holding onto the spot he'd been hit. "The hell was that for?"

"You know what that was for!" I answered back. 

"What's going on here?" I turned to see Newt jogging toward us, his confused gaze flickering between the injured boy and myself. 

"She hit me." Max jabbed an accusatory finger at me. 

"Because you were harassing me and then grabbed me!" I exclaimed, my voice shrill and dark with rage.

Newt looked back at the boy. "Max, I know Dylan would never hit someone unless she had a good reason. Stop harassing women and keep your disgusting comments to yourself. So unless you want to get sucker-punched again, I suggest you leave and don't speak to her ever again."

Max's eyes went wide and he darted off, mumbling an apology that he probably only said because he was scared. Newt watched him go. I stayed rooted to my spot, still seething.

The blond boy turned to me, expression softening. There was still a firm look in his eyes, but other than that, he seemed to be calm. "Are you okay?"

My voice cracked a little as I replied, "I'm fine."

Newt came forward, an almost saddened look on his face. "Dylan—"

"I said I'm fine," I cut him off, my tone a bit snappier than I'd intended it to be. "This is the first time you've checked up on me in a while."

"I've been busy. But that doesn't mean I've stopped caring."

His words struck me hard in the chest. Suddenly I felt guilt consume me, taking over every inch of my body. Why had I ever lost faith in him?

"Did you...did you actually think I'd stopped?" he asked, voice gentle and a bit disappointed. Now his entire being seemed to shrink, self-confidence withering and caving in on itself. It sent a hard punch to my gut.

"I—" The words caught in my throat and I couldn't get them out. Because I had. I had allowed myself to think that Newt had ceased to care about me. I snapped my mouth shut and let the shame wash over me in pounding waves, feeling a huge urge to bolt away from him as fast as I could. "I need to go."

"Dylan—" Newt tried to say, but I left before he could finish.

"I'm sorry!" I called over my shoulder as I ran. And I was. Words couldn't describe how truly sorry I was for letting my faith in him decrease to almost nothing.

gif is minho and newt

_______

this chapter is so short and inexcusable for how long of a wait you had, but i'm happy to say that another update is coming soon.

Q's (for you to state your opinions/theories on. please answer!!)

-how long will it take for dylan and newt's relationship to mend?

-do you think that there will be a rift between minho and dylan?

-on a scale of 1 to "throwing him into a volcano as a human sacrifice," how much to you hate max?

-where is theo?

see you soon!!

-kristyn

EDIT: it's 2021 and i edited the entire second part of the chapter. if there are any re-readers here who recognize that the scene is different, that's why!