Disclaimer:

I don't own the Maze Runner, but if I did, I'd add in Theo because he's my favorite ever.

-✼-

The Flare.

What was it? What did it mean? I didn't know, and it was so frustrating that I wanted to tear my hair out in clumps and scream endlessly. The frustration was eating me up. How could I have been given so many memories and not the information that came with them? What was the point?

I ran a hand through my tousled strands again, screaming out in anger at the world and kicking the door. "What the shuck does this mean?"

"You're gonna break your toes doing that," Clint commented with a hint of amusement. He stood near me, watching just in case I tried to break a hole through the wood.

"I don't care!" I shouted. Over and over I mentally cursed the Glade, the world, and especially W.I.C.K.E.D for what they had done to me. I felt like I was slowly losing my grip on who I was. What was my purpose? Why did they send me here? To freak out all the time and drive myself insane?

I took a rattling breath and clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My legs carried me before I knew what was happening and I paced restlessly. "I hate them. I hate them so much. I want to— to hurt them in every way possible."

"Who?" Clint asked, blue eyes following me as I walked back and forth in front of him.

"W.I.C.K.E.D!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. My feet stopped moving abruptly and I narrowed my eyes at the poor Med-jack before me. "They thought they could just rip us away, to use us and experiment-"

"Dylan," Clint cut in with a deadly serious tone. He was usually so affable and light, always with a smile, but it was absent from his face this time. "What did you just say?"

A crease formed between my eyebrows. My gaze flickered to the door and back to Clint as I shifted my weight onto my other foot. "You'll have to be more specific. I say a lot of stuff."

Clint shook his head, deeply focused on what he was saying. "You called them - the Creators - Wicked."

I froze up. How could I have been so careless? I let the name slip in my cloud of anger.

Not wanting to show Clint I had terribly messed everything up for myself, I held his gaze for a long time. A heavy sigh fell from my lungs.

"Not Wicked," I explained, "W.I.C.K.E.D. It's an acronym. It stands for 'World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department.' I found it out in the Maze and by the Deadheads."

Clint's eyes widened at that information. He blinked. "Killzone. Sounds cheery."

I rolled my eyes. "Believe me, I know. But think about it- we actually have a name to call them by."

Clint shook his head again and focused his gaze on the ground. His sandy blond hair reflected the light and made it look incredibly shiny. He dragged a hand down his face and heaved a deep breath. "I don't know what to believe anymore. Our names aren't our names. The sun isn't the sun. This whole place is just a test. We're subjects in someone's stupid experiment. We're shucking lab rats!"

The last sentence was loud enough to make me jump. Clint never yelled. He was always so calm and collected, always neutral when everyone else was losing their minds. But now his voice was full of raw anger and his cheeks were blossoming with crimson color. There was an astonishing amount of fury in his eyes; the deep blue seemed to freeze to ice.

"Clint," I whispered gently, approaching him like you would a volcano that was about to blow. "I'm sure this is it. This is the one thing that we know for certain."

Clint's eyes focused on the bedpost behind me like he was afraid the daggers he was shooting would pierce my skin and make me bleed. He took in a trembling breath, lips quivering with words that wouldn't come out. "It's hard, Dylan. It's hard to adjust when everything you've known for two years was all a lie."

Pain edged into his tone and accompanied the frustration. They nestled together and created a sound so saddening that I felt my heart contract. It was a foreign sight to see the boy so vulnerable.

"That's why Thomas is going to fix it," I asserted. "He's going to get us out of here."

He finally turned his gaze to me. The ice had melted and now pooled in his eyes. The red flush of his cheeks was there for a different reason. "And you?"

A small smile worked its way onto my face. "Yeah, I'll help too."

-/-

"Thomas is an idiot and I want to cry."

I perched on the edge of my bed, not really sitting as much as leaning against the mattress. The nerves were too abundant for me to relax. All my muscles were on high alert and I couldn't stay still. My foot tapped against the wood floor, while my stomach twisted uncomfortably. My thumbs twiddled as I stared at them without interest.

"Actually, I was the one to suggest we leave tonight," Newt corrected with a sly smirk, bunching the hem of his shirt up in his hands.

I glanced up at him in disappointment. "You are an idiot and I want to cry. Is he really thinking about being the first to jump down the...Griever Hole?"

Newt shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. "Guess so. He's a crazy slinthead, and there's nothing we can do about it."

He turned around so his back was facing me. As he reached down to pick up his newer, cleaner shirt, I directed my gaze back to my hands. I clasped them together to try and hide the jumbled nerves that were taking over every sensible part of me.

"What happened with you?" Newt questioned as he pulled the shirt over his head. His voice went muffled for a few seconds before he popped his head through. "Earlier at the Gathering, I mean."

I shrugged, squeezing my hands even tighter. An ache spread to my wrists at the force. I ignored it and opened my mouth to answer him. "I got memories back, but I didn't at the same time."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Newt turn toward me with a look of confusion. "What are you on about? That makes no sense."

I struggled to explain the sequence clearly. It was incredibly difficult, like attempting to untangle a tornado of yarn. I wasn't sure where to begin. "Pictures came back, but the information didn't. It was so much at once that I couldn't handle it. When Clint brought me out and I was able to calm down, I mostly grew angry. And now I'm shucking terrified."

My hands had started to shake again, and I pressed them together so tightly that the skin turned white. I could see the bones beneath the taut skin. Before I could do anything else to ease my nerves, a hand gently tilted my face upward. My eyes met those of Newt's and I felt my heart increase its speed a little bit more. He kissed me slowly, then pulled away with a grin on his face.

"Chin up, buttercup." He softly patted my cheek, causing me to laugh. The cute smile faded from his face and was replaced with a serious expression. "It's going to be a difficult night, that's for sure. People are going to die. But no matter what happens or who gets hurt, I need you to promise me that you'll get yourself out before you start thinking of others."

My eyes went a little wide and they frantically searched his. "Newt—"

He blinked and I fell quiet. "Promise me."

Another weight was placed on my chest. I felt my heart being weighed down even further, growing heavy and beating slowly. My brain conjured up awful memories of the Grievers, of how they had attacked Thomas without mercy, how they sunk Gally into their flesh, and how traumatized I was after that night in the Maze. I didn't want to leave anyone behind with them.

"I can't do that." My voice came out cracked and quiet, not like how I wanted it to. "Newt, you know I can't."

Newt's hand went to my shoulder and he bent down to my level. His warm, brown eyes looked directly into mine. "Well, at least promise me this- you won't endanger yourself for the sake of others. If someone gets caught by a Griever, you won't launch yourself at it to save them. Please."

His voice was calm and even, but the way it wavered ever so slightly and had a hint of desperation in the undertone told me he was more worried than he was letting on. And I felt the same way. I couldn't lose him tonight.

So I nodded, letting him know I understood. I straightened up and slipped out of Newt's grasp. My boots clicked on the wooden floor as I left my room for the very last time.

"Where are you going?" Newt asked gently. When I turned my head, he was still staring at the place I had been standing, his hand back at his side. He swallowed thickly.

"There's a lot of work to be done," I replied in a lighter tone. "But I need some time to myself for a bit."

After a pause, Newt nodded. I left the room and softly shut the door. As I stood in the hallway, I let myself soak in the silence and shifted my eyes around the otherwise empty building.

The first time I had come in the Homestead, I tripped over a nail. My gaze drifted to that very same piece of metal that was still sticking up from the floor. I chuckled at the fact that it still wasn't fixed.

Before I realized it, I was slowly walking to Minho's room. The door was closed. My hand lingered on the brass doorknob; I twisted it and pushed the door open. I half-expected to have a replay of what happened the first time I entered, but it was empty. The place was a complete mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, both clean and worn, and almost all of the drawers to his dresser were open. The sheets and blankets were carelessly strewn on the bed.

"Name's Minho, and if you say anything about that scream, I'll personally skin you."

"Dylan, and I'll be sure to make a note of that."

It was amazing to think about how far we had come from our introduction. From complete strangers, to roommates, to best friends, to co-workers, to frenemies. I wasn't even sure what we were anymore. I missed him. What was our fight even about? I couldn't remember. All I knew was that I wanted it resolved.

"I clean up sometimes. These were under your blankets. Along with these popsicles."

"They aren't bandages or popsicles!"

My heart gave a pulsing ache as memories of those days came flooding back to me. It seemed like so long ago that we had shared that very room. With one last look inside, I turned and closed the door behind me. I couldn't let myself stay; I'd get too nostalgic.

As it would turn out, Minho wasn't even there. He and some Runners were off tying ivy by the Cliff for our use later. I huffed at the information, but decided to leave the apology for another time.

The Glade was frantic.

There was a huge line pouring outside of the Kitchens, where Frypan was frantically trying to make enough meals for everyone partaking in the trip. Boys ran around from area to area. Deep shouts mixed in with one another. Crowds of people milled about, whispering and muttering with anxious looks on their faces. The entire place held an overbearing sense of fright hanging over it like a dark cloud.

"¡Mi amiga!"

My heart leaped in my rib cage and I whirled around excitedly at the sound of the voice. Theo and Garret were walking toward me, both with smiles on their faces. Garret still looked like he usually did, with his blond hair tidy despite the hectic events and the constant aura of tiredness to him. Theo, however, seemed much worse. He was limping heavily, even holding onto Garret's bicep for support. I noticed the pain in his chocolate eyes every time he took a step. His curly hair was unruly.

But nonetheless, he released Garret and pulled me into a hug. It was so strange to see him standing again after so long of him being stuck in bed. Words couldn't describe my elation when I was able to return the embrace. The soft cotton of his green shirt smelled like pine trees and sawdust.

"Me alegro de verte," Theo breathed as he held me tightly, hands resting on my back. "I'm glad to see you."

I smiled and pulled away from the hug. "I'm glad to see you too. And you, Garret."

The blond boy nodded in acknowledgment, his grey eyes taking in everything transpiring around us. "S'weird, guys. I've been living here for a year now and now we're leaving. Just like that. Am I right, Theo?"

Theo nodded, resting his hands on his hips. "Yeah. I was the next Greenie after Garret. He had to stick with me for a few weeks until I was able to actually converse with people on my own."

Garret rolled his eyes playfully. "Worst weeks of my life."

I laughed along with them, but quickly cut myself off and turned to Theo with a grave look. He was slightly startled at how serious I became. One eyebrow raised. "What?"

I knew that look. I could tell just by the way he held himself and how he tried to disguise his pain. My eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "No way. You're not going."

Theo sighed and shifted his weight, cringing as he did so. "Knew you were gonna say that."

I slapped his arm. "Theo! You're injured. You can barely walk! How are you going to run while being chased by Grievers?"

"Dylan." Garret took a cautious step forward. There was a stern look in his eyes that somehow told me that Theo knew the consequences of his decisions. "Believe me, I don't want him going, either. We talked for days about this. He knows the risks. There's no stopping him."

I sighed and let my gaze drop to the grass beneath our feet. I felt like a time bomb ticking, ticking, ticking until I was close to exploding. I didn't want to increase my friends' risks of death, but at the same time, I wanted all of us to get out safely. How does one have two contradictory feelings simultaneously?

"By the way." Garret shrugged a backpack off his shoulder and handed it to me. I hadn't even realized he was carrying two. "This is for you. It already has food, water, weapons, and all the supplies you'd need for intense Griever fighting. No knives included- Theo told me about that when I packed it."

I shot him a grateful smile, taking the bag and slinging my arms through it. "Thank you."

Now I had the two boys in front of me to worry about as well. And Newt, Chuck, Alby, Thomas, and Teresa, and pretty much everyone else that was coming with us. I was even scared for the few who chose to stay. What would happen with them?

The bomb was getting close to zero. I just wondered how long it would be until I'd explode.

gif is my son

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hey guys look at me i'm on a roll

im nearing the end of tmr and im honestly so happy about it!! this book is honestly super long and it's driving me insane

questions:

-did you correctly guess who brought dylan out? (i dont think anyone did tbh)

-which newlyn moment has been your favorite so far?

-will dylan have time to resolve things with minho?

-what do you think will happen with theo?

gotta blast!!

-kristyn