Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner. If I did, I'd have Dylan in it, of course

-✼-

Newt called me back in the hidden Map Room not long later, meaning I didn't have much time to recover from my sudden outburst of affection for Theo. Something about the way he said those words, "You're my best friend," made me realize how much I cherished him. What little time we had all been together. How close we had become.

I walked into the room with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, causing concerned looks from everyone inside. Teresa seemed to be standing in the exact place I had seen her last, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Her hair was an awful mess and she looked exhausted. There were two other boys I didn't know - one with cropped ginger hair and the other with tousled black locks - that were idling in the corner. Garret leaned his elbows against the table, an intrigued look on his tanned face and grey eyes filled with curiosity.

"What happened?" Newt asked almost instantly, eyebrows pinched in concern. He had been resting against the wall beside the door with his legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded over his chest. His formerly relaxed stance turned into a rigid one of alarm as he took in my befuddled appearance.

"Nothing," I covered, wiping my cheeks with my sleeve. "Theo fell and I, uh, I got a little worried."

Not even five seconds after I broke down, Clint had arrived at the scene and tsked Theo. The Hispanic boy grumbled at him, for the Med-jack had been the one to give him the okay anyway. This caused an argument to erupt between the two of them. Clint finally gained his senses when Theo groaned aloud in agony from how badly his hip was hurting. One of the Builders' arms went around Clint's shoulders as he led him to the Homestead. I had sat in the Deadheads for a little bit, calming myself down until I was summoned here.

Newt nodded but pulled me into a comforting hug anyway, patting my back. I sighed against his touch, though surprised at a small grudge in my heart. It felt like a rock was weighing it down. How could Newt ignore me for that long and then go back to normal so quickly?

I pulled away from the embrace and went to stand by Teresa. She gave me a thin, tired smile and rubbed her aching hand.

"We're just waiting on Thomas as of now," Newt announced clearly. His projected voice filled the quiet room.

"Where is he, anyway?" The ginger boy sneered unkindly. He stood with an overly large aura of arrogance and high self-esteem. His greenish blue eyes were too far apart, making his entire face seem to stretch. The bomb inside of me threatened to start ticking at his words.

"He just got back from the Maze," Teresa informed calmly. "He should be here soon."

I couldn't spare the confused glance directed toward her. She didn't seem to notice my perplexity. How did she know where he was? I didn't even know half the time.

"Slow one, ain't he?" Mean Ginger commented to his handsome friend, who looked highly uncomfortable with all the stares on them. "Dunno why he was chosen; clueless and trouble as anythin—"

"Hey!" Garret interjected, lips pulled into a frown at the guy's words. "Cool it, will you?"

The ginger rolled his eyes but kept quiet. When Garret leaned back in satisfaction and glanced at me, I gave him a thankful look. He nodded in response.

"I should probably head up and wait for him," Newt noted mostly to himself. With his eyes downcast, he opened the door and soundlessly climbed the steps to the first level. The door clicked shut behind him with a snap.

It was awkwardly silent for the two minutes he was gone. An occasional cough or sniffle was the only sound in the cool room for about thirty seconds.

"This was buggin' stupid," Ginger stated with a fierce tone. "All of it. What do those - those words even mean? Nothing!" He slumped back dramatically and landed against the wall, arms crossed and a scowl on his thin lips. "We're all shucked anyways."

The black-haired boy beside him nudged his friend's skinny arm. "Vince, shut the hell up."

'Vince' rolled his eyes. "Go to hell."

His friend gave an annoyed and exasperated look, like, "I tried" before jumping up when the door was reopened. Thomas entered the room apprehensively, almost as if he could sense the negative comments that had been directed at him. Brown eyes quickly scanned the messy room before Newt pushed him to move a little faster.

Teresa, who was now reading a single sheet of paper, glanced up when she heard the door open, then immediately cast her eyes back downward. Garret stood up straight and stretched his muscled arms over his head while yawning. The black-haired boy wore a relieved expression. Vince gave a whoop.

"'Bout time," he jabbed rudely, narrowed eyes shifting from my brother to Newt. "Y'all are such klunkheads around here. Bye."

He stormed off with no other comments. His friend went to follow, then turned before he got to the door and sent us a half smile, revealing perfectly white teeth. "Hope you guys can find what you're lookin' for."

Newt nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Harvey."

Harvey disappeared up the stairs.

Garret started to head off too, a neutral expression on his face. "Look, guys. Ever need any more help, get me, not Vince. He's insufferable." And he left.

"Come check this out," Teresa said to Thomas, who was standing completely still with a deeply concentrated look on his face. His head snapped up and he almost ran to her. "You too, Dylan."

"I'll get down on my knees and kiss your bloody feet if you can figure it out," Newt swore jokingly.

"I think I'll pass," Thomas said.

I shrugged as he and I went to read over Teresa's shoulder, carefully studying the paper. She actually had to lower it due to my lack of height. Thomas snickered. I punched him.

"No doubt this is right," she said with her eyebrows raised in question. "Just don't have a clue what it means."

My eyes quickly darted across the paper, absorbing all the information written on it in slanted lead. There were numbered circles running down the left side of it, starting at one and ending at six. Next to each was a word.

FLOAT

CATCHBLEEDDEATHSTIFFPUSH

I was momentarily stunned out of speech by the shudder that ran down my spine. The two words in the middle made an uneasy feeling swell inside of me. "Bleed? Death? Sounds like we're all going to float, be caught, bleed, die so we're stiff, and be pushed off the Cliff."

Thomas blinked at me with no expression. He said in a voice full of sarcasm, "Wow, Dylan. You did it. Let's follow those orders right now and see what happens."

I rolled my eyes at his inability to take a joke, shifting my weight to my right foot. "Look, I'm just trying to make light of the situation."

Thomas' disappointed gaze shifted to Teresa. "But that's all? Are you sure they're in the right order?"

She took the paper back. "The Maze has been repeating these words for months-—we finally quit when that became clear. Each time, after the word PUSH, it goes a full week without showing any letter at all, and then it starts over again with FLOAT. So we figured that that's the first word, and that's the order."

I put a hand to my forehead as I tried to take all this information in. "This is insane."

Thomas folded his arms and leaned onto the shelf beside Teresa.

"Cheerful, don't you think?" Newt commented ironically.

"Yeah," Thomas replied with a groan of frustration. "We need to get Minho down here- maybe he knows something we don't. If we just had more clues -"

I gasped as he was hit with a dizzy spell and nearly collapsed. On instinct, I rushed forward to catch him, but he had just managed to grab the shelves beside him. Thomas panted heavily from shock, eyes wide. He sent me a nod when I gave him a look of concern.

"Tommy?" Newt asked as he took a step forward. Crinkles of worry lined his forehead. "What's wrong with you? Your face just went white as a ghost."

Thomas shook his head and gently shooed me away, composing himself. "Oh...nothing, sorry. My eyes are hurting- I think I need some sleep." He reached up and rubbed his temples with a grimace on his face.

I bit my lip and sent Newt a questioning glance. Was he really okay? Was that a normal reaction to lack of rest? Either way, something was up with Thomas; had been fine only moments ago. I just had to figure out what was wrong.

"Well," Newt reached over and gave Thomas' shoulder a squeeze, "you spent all bloody night out in the Maze— go take a nap."

Thomas shifted his eyes between the three of us before nodding and heading to the stairs. Without consent from the others, I quickly followed behind. I hurried out the door and thumped up the steps behind him. Upon hearing my footsteps, he turned around and gave me a look that basically asked, "What are you doing?"

"What's wrong with you?" I questioned as I fell in step beside him. He merely huffed in response. "C'mon, please?"

Thomas simply stared straight in front of him and continued on his way out of the Homestead. My throat rumbled with an angry groan. Why did he refuse to tell me anything?

I couldn't help the worry that was embedded in both my brain and my heart. I hadn't been able to talk to him about much due to our - now separate - jobs. Somehow I could tell that he wasn't all right.

Getting exasperated and wanting answers (almost to the point of desperation), I turned sharply so I was standing directly in his path. My hand stretched out to stop him and he bumped into it before coming to a halt.

"Thomas," I began, "you're my brother. You're my twin. We are two halves of the same soul, and I love you. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you or pass it on to anyone else. You should know that you can confide in me when you need it. Now please. Tell me what's wrong."

Thomas' worried eyes studied me carefully for a long moment before he heaved out a long sigh. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me out of the Homestead and over to the Deadheads. No one spared us a second glance as he dragged me past them. It wasn't a very outlandish sight compared to what transpired earlier that week.

We stopped outside the edge of the trees. No one was near- we had made sure of that. Thomas let go of my arm and bent down to match my height, whispering, "I have a plan, but it's wild."

Immediately my chest filled with dread. Almost all of Thomas' plans involved stupid, incomplete thoughts and decisions he hadn't fully thought out. But then again, they pretty much always worked.

"All right." I rotated my wrist around, motioning for him to continue. "Keep going."

He sucked in a deep breath. "I need to get Stung."

The words hit me so hard that I had to take a step back from him and process it. "What?"

He nodded, eyes almost pleading for me to give in to the idea. "It's the only way for us to remember everything we need to know. I'll find out who I am. Dylan" - he reached out and clasped his hands onto both of my shoulders, looking me dead in the eyes - "we could get out of here."

I shook my head as I mentally weighed out the pros and cons. "Thomas, the Changing isn't some walk in the park. You know how Ben-"

"I won't turn out like Ben," he asserted with confidence. "I won't. You didn't, right?"

I nodded, still feeling unsure about the whole ordeal. The Changing was a serious matter- it was not to be taken lightly. Since mine was whacked, I wasn't exactly sure what information Thomas would gain from the memories, and how much he'd remember when he woke up. I wouldn't be much help in the matter. But Newt had said people remembered their pasts, why we were there, and who did it. Could it really save us all?

"Another thing," Thomas continued, "I'd remember things about us. Our childhood. Isn't that what you wanted?"

My eyes slowly drifted from the ground to his face. How did he know? Was it a twin instinct? Had I been that obvious?

I sighed. "Only do it if you truly think it's appropriate and right. Think long and hard about it. Don't be stupid."

Thomas laughed a little, pulling me into a hug. "I won't. Promise."

I embraced him back tightly, my head reaching the middle of his chest. I could faintly hear his heart beating with a steady rhythm. His chin rested on the top of my head and sent a wave of love surging through me. Those rare moments of bare affection made my heart swell as I realized how much I cared for my other half.

And I couldn't be happier that we were in this together.

-/-

I was the only person Thomas talked to for the rest of the day, and it was in secret.

I anxiously glanced at my watch — which Minho hadn't cared to take away, along with all my other Runner supplies — about every few seconds, tapping my foot as nerves bounced through me restlessly. Soon enough it reached the six o'clock mark. I stood and walked downstairs, twiddling my thumbs as I moved. I barely remembered eating Frypan's spicy tomato soup.

To all of our reliefs, the hole in the front of the building was finally patched up. It was a horrible job. Slabs of wood were haphazardly nailed together to form a mildly stable barrier. The gaping monstrosity was so large that we started to run low on wood. Luckily, we had all those trees to help us with that department.

Alby was back in action. He was just stable enough to walk around - though rather slowly and robotic - with his head nearly mummified in bandages. He and Newt gave orders to rotate where we slept each night.

I, of course, wanted to keep all my loved ones close to me. Thomas, Theo, Chuck, Newt, Minho, Garret, and Teresa all deserved a spot with me in my opinion, but Newt wouldn't allow it. He put Thomas downstairs with Teresa. Theo was still in the Med-jacks' room on bed rest. Chuck was in another room with Garret. Minho was probably already sleeping.

I laid in bed with my eyes staring off into what would've been the ceiling if I was able to see. Light from the hallway penetrated the darkness as Newt opened the door and slipped inside. His footsteps neared the bed and I heard the crinkling of sheets as he sat down, probably to remove his shoes. More ruffling. Silence.

And then, "Dylan, come here."

There it was. Those simple words made me smile as soon as I heard them. After what seemed like forever of awkwardly silenced slumbers, he was finally welcoming me back. The rational part of me said he was probably filled with guilt. I didn't care. I was just too elated to focus on the dark times at the moment.

I slid out of bed and walked slowly in his direction. My eyes were squinting so tightly that they were nearly shut as I tried desperately to see. Just as I thought I was getting close, a pair of hands grabbed onto my hips and pulled me up onto his mattress. A small squeal came from my mouth as he shielded me with the covers and pulled me close to him.

The blankets, combined with our joined body heat, were impossibly warm. I never wanted to leave. As I laid in Newt's arms and closed my eyes, I felt at peace.

I remembered Thomas' plan.

And then, "Dylan, why're you shaking? Are you okay?"

I hadn't realized it until it was brought to my attention, but my entire body was quivering. Goosebumps dotted my skin and my jaw clenched to stop the chattering of my teeth.

"I'm f-fine," I replied through the mini earthquakes in my body. Newt hugged me tighter, maybe because he thought I was cold, but it didn't help. He could feel my racing heart and thumping pulse as my brain conjured up the worst possible scenarios of how this night's events would occur.

I shut the thoughts out and tried to sleep, closing my eyes and focusing instead on Newt. Everything about him. I was momentarily distracted until the haunting, groaning sounds of the Grievers sounded from the Maze.

The protective arms tightened around me. My breath seemed to cease. I thought my heart was going to break my ribs from how rapidly it was thumping. My nerves spiked and I let out an involuntary whimper.

A booming explosion from one of the rooms near us caused me to scream. The horrible, gut-wrenching sounds of mechanical whirs made my stomach twist as I clenched my hands onto the sheets. Newt managed to loosen my grip and flip me around so my face was pressed into his chest. His lips were against my forehead and he pressed a single, comforting kiss to the skin.

"It's got Dave!" Some kid screeched as he fled downstairs. Footsteps pounded as more people rushed to safety. Loud creaks and groans shook the entire building. I felt like it was the end, that the whole structure would collapse and that would be it.

The awful noises eventually became quieter as the Griever retreated. I began to relax, my muscles releasing their tension and ready to fall asleep, until I remembered Thomas again.

I jumped out of the bed so quickly that Newt didn't have enough time to react. My feet carried me out the door, down the steps, and toward the numerous shouts of the Gladers on the first floor.

People were screaming his name. I was screaming. I couldn't help myself. The worry and fear consuming me were threatening to rip me in two. Half of me wanted to stay rooted on the stairs so I wouldn't have to watch. The other wanted to chase after him.

So I did. I was the first one after him, yelling at the top of my lungs for someone else to come help. I tore across the Glade as fast as my short legs could take me. Thomas collapsed just as I reached him and the Grievers retreated back into the Maze.

"Hey, hey," I coaxed as I dropped to my knees beside him. "You're okay. You did it."

A few pricks on his paling arms told me he had succeeded. Thomas groaned in pain, blinking up at the sky with unfocused eyes. All the memories of myself going through the same exact thing rendered me immobile for a good few seconds until I realized what was actually happening. I was feeling his pain.

A dull ache coursed through my body like small flames. It was about a quarter of what I had felt before, but it still hurt. One of my hands flew to hold my suddenly heavy head. The world titled horizontally.

I shook my head and focused on Thomas. Newt had appeared now, along with Teresa, Chuck, and Harvey. Newt grabbed my brother by the shoulders and lifted him up. "Get his legs!"

I could barely make out Harvey's lean shape picking up Thomas' legs before I nearly face planted. My hands just barely caught my fall. The slick blades of grass swirled together in a nauseating whirl of green. My lips clamped together to prevent any sound from escaping, though I wanted to cry out at the pain that was eating up my insides. How was I feeling part of what Thomas was?

Someone was trying to get me onto my feet. Who? I couldn't tell. Their hands pulled me up to my knees so quickly that my head flopped to the side. I shut my eyes, the spinning becoming too much for me to handle.

"Dylan? You okay?" Teresa. She was speaking at a normal volume, but it echoed like she was talking through a tunnel. I could hardly find the energy to shake my head.

"I feel sick," I mumbled, my lips barely separating enough to pronounce the words. "Teresa. Ge—"

She pulled me onto my feet and somehow got me sprawled onto her back. I scarcely heard her instructions to hold on tightly before she took off back toward the Homestead.

All I could think was that the Med-jacks' hands would be full tonight.

gif is dylan being anxious

_________

extra long chapter bc i'm really feelin' this story now. i'm so excited to go more in depth into the subplot- dylan's unusual brain activity. dont worry!! ease your confused brains. it all leads up to the third book.

dedicated to my main carly for reading this even though she's read like one chapter of the actual book lmao

until next time,

-kristyn