CARRY YOU HOME: A MAZE RUNNER FANFICTION [NEWT]
PUBLISHED: MARCH 25TH, 2017.
SET BEFORE THOMAS & TERESA

Danielle Campbell portrays the girl :)

CHAPTER ONE
the girl in the maze

The painful pounding centered in my temple stirred me awake. I grimaced at the persistent throbbing and a faint groan left my lips as my eyes fluttered open.

I was positioned on my side, one arm tucked under my head and the other draped over my waist, the ground cold and hard beneath me. Slowly, and carefully, I pushed myself up, leaning forward on my hands to support my upper body. My stiff muscles told me I'd been laying like that for quite some time, but I ignored the slight discomfort as my gaze wandered my surroundings.

My eyes strained in the dim light, the dusk sky above dusted with gold, a sign the sun was setting, and doing nothing to help my sight. Everything was gray and made out of rock, cracked walls looming around me like giant tombstones. I noticed that ivy covered some of them, and on the wall beside me, there were scratches on the stone that resembled the claw marks of an animal. Hesitantly, I lightly traced the abrasions, and a shiver went through me as I quickly pulled my hand away.

Where the heck was I?

I dropped my gaze, blinking down at the ground—feeling severely disoriented for a moment—as I tried to clear my foggy thoughts. I took note of the rose-shaped ring on my right hand. Leaves wrapped around the band and a midnight blue gemstone sat in the middle of the petals. As I briefly wondered where it came from and what it meant to me, I desperately wracked my brain for any memory that could give me answers. I could recall the way the world worked, colors, and objects—but any remnant of myself had been erased from the picture. I felt no personal connection to any of my knowledge and that terrified me.

The unrelenting ache of my head seemed to increase tenfold, syncing up with my distressed emotions, and I winced at the pain.

I reached up and gently touched at the arch of my eyebrow, surprised by the wetness I felt there. I pulled my hand away and looked down at the red liquid covering the pads of my fingertips.

How did that happen? I thought frantically, alarmed by the sight of my blood.

Before I could ponder my injury further, the ground began to rattle beneath me, followed by the grating sound of stone grinding against stone.

My head whipped over my shoulder and I felt my breath quicken as I watched the wall at the end of the corridor move. The rapid clicking of something mechanical made goosebumps rise on my skin and I grew more frightened with each passing second that the stone slid away. I caught only a glimpse of a pointed, spider-like metallic leg before my instincts kicked in and I scrambled around the corner, not bothering to stand up first.

I pressed my back against the rough rock of the wall, my pulse speeding up as I listened to metal clatter against the ground as whatever was there came closer.

Knowing I was going to regret it, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat and tentatively moved to peek around the corner.

My eyes went wide with terror and I barely managed to suppress a scream at the sight of the monstrosity revealed by the wall. The body of the creature was bulbous and bulging, sparsely covered with hair and glistening with a slimy substance that dripped off it onto the rocky ground. Several mechanical arms that tapered into a sharp point protruded from it, making it resemble some kind of insect.

What kind of fresh hell had I woken up in?

The creature's mechanical tail slithered behind it like a snake, and the only thing I could see of its head were rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, but I had a terrifying feeling it knew I was right there.

It released a shrill, harrowing screech that turned my blood to ice.

And then it lunged.

I rushed to get to my feet, not daring to look behind me as I took off running. I could hear it on my heels, the thunderous rumble of its sharp legs tearing into the stone with its rapid movement to catch me. I veered right, then left, sprinting down a long corridor before going right once more, the screeching echoes following close behind.

I had no clue where I going; I just wanted to lose the thing. My eyes scanned the walls as I fled, searching for doors or tunnels—anywhere I could hide—but there was nothing but an infinite, endless amount of hallways.

I ran and ran, the heels of the ankle boots I was wearing clattering loudly against the ground as I put more and more distance between myself and the creature until its haunting sounds finally died down. I could feel my legs beginning to tremble, my chest tightening with the need for air. My body begged me to stop, and I slowed, collapsing down against a wall decorated with ivy. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back as I caught my breath, heart hammering.

Then the ground started rumbling again. Startled, my eyes shot open and I stood up immediately, waiting to see what would happen, but prepared to run if I had to. To my right, a wall started to slowly push out across the corridor, and I felt panic grip my entire being at the thought of being trapped with those monstrous machines.

In the same instance, the click, click, click sound returned and I spun around just as the creature crashed down onto the ground from up above.

I moved before it did, so frantic to just get away that I hadn't noticed some ivy had tangled around my foot. The coiled vines yanked me down, my ankle twisting beyond what was natural as the side of my body collided with the hard ground, momentarily knocking the wind out of me.

I didn't have time to even acknowledge the pain as I rolled onto my back, my eyes widening as the creature leaped into the air, letting out another haunting screech before landing right on top of me. A scream ripped up my throat as the metal, spider-like legs dug into the stone and formed a cage around my body, trapping me as I struggled to get free.

It raised the leg closest to my face, the pointed tip spinning like the head of a drill, and another frightened yelp escaped me as I narrowly moved out of the way when it drove back down, missing me by only centimeters. The claw pierced the ground, sending rock debris flying, and when the creature didn't immediately try to impale me once more, I realized with a jolt that the leg was stuck.

While the monstrosity struggled to pull it free, my eyes darted around frantically, searching for something I could use to defend myself. I caught the faintest glimmer of something sharp beneath the ivy beside me and I reached between the creature's legs without hesitation to grab it. It was a weapon of some sort; a wooden pole with a silver, triangular shaped head attached to one side. It was broken, I could tell by the jagged splinters on the other end, and a dried, black liquid was spotted all over it.

The creature pulled the leg free with a mechanical clank, and seeing my window of opportunity diminishing, I quickly plunged the weapon into its soft body. The creature let out a shriek that pierced my ears as it raised itself off of me. I scrambled out from under it, pushed to my feet, and gritted my teeth at the sharp pain that stabbed at my ankle as I sprinted toward the closing wall. The monstrosity recovered quicker than I expected, charging after me with a vengeance.

I was slower than before, unable to put much weight on my right leg, but I went as fast as my body would allow.

Go!

My stride was uneven, hobbled, and I prayed I wouldn't lose my balance.

Just a little farther.

You're almost there.

I dove through the narrow opening and rolled onto my back, shuffling away from the creature bounding toward me.

Then the wall closed with a thunderous boom.

For a heart wrenching second, I wasn't sure it would shut in time.

I laid on my elbows for a moment, dazed, before I slowly found the strength to right myself.

I didn't bother to fight the tears that came, letting then roll down my face as I scooted across the corridor to sit against the wall, bringing my leg up to my chest to examine my ankle. I had just started to roll up my jeans when a commotion from around the corner caught my attention, my nerves hypersensitive to just the slightest sound.

Another spear was lying just a few feet across from me, this one still intact, but splattered with the same black liquid as the one I'd plunged into the creature. I made a grab for it and then pressed back against the wall, gripping it tightly in my hands as the sounds grew closer. Clenching my eyes shut, I jabbed it around the corner.

"Woah—hey! What the shuck are you doing?" a distinctly masculine voice exclaimed.

I tentatively opened my eyes and looked up at the boy, my expression a mix of relief and surprise. With the tip of the spear an inch from piercing his chest, he stared down at me in bewilderment, his hands up in surrender. He had thick black hair and Asian features; dirt smudged his cheek and forehead. I could tell he was quite in shape by the snug way his blue shirt and brown cargo pants fit him. He wore a pair of boots, a leather harness strapped to his chest. He looked like he was made to be out here.

"I—I'm sorry," I breathed out, wiping at my cheeks as the spear dropped from my weakened grasp. "I thought you were . . . one of those . . . things."

His eyebrows rose in recognition. "A Griever?"

"Griever?" I repeated quietly, perplexed by the term I hadn't heard before, although it seemed rather fitting.

"That's what we call them," he said grimly, his entire demeanor dimming with the weight of something he seemed too young to be carrying around with him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes contemplative and weary as he looked at me. "Who are you?"

My response felt like it should have come automatically, but nothing came to mind. "I . . . I don't know," I said softly, dismayed by the realization.

I didn't even know my own name.

The boy crossed his arms, biceps flexing, as his expression turned knowing. "How did you get in here?"

"I don't remember," I replied with a hopeless shake of my head. My glassy eyes met his, anticipating his confusion, but he looked like he was expecting my answer. "Why can't I remember?"

Before he could respond, the thunderous rumbling sound I'd grown familiar with echoed throughout the structure.

"There's no time to explain," he said, his calculating gaze watching our surroundings carefully. "We need to get back to the Glade before the shucking doors close."

"What—"

He abruptly turned on me and crouched down, resting his forearm across his knee. "Listen to me," he began slowly, his tone calm, but filled with an underlying urgency. "I promise, you will know everything you need to later, but right now we have to go."

What I heard in his voice told me we were in real danger, and while I was definitely scared for my own life, I wouldn't want him to get hurt because of me. He hadn't tried to harm me when I dropped the spear, he hadn't run off and left me behind. He was staying, trying to help me.

I gave a tentative nod.

"Okay," he breathed, somewhat in relief. "Let's go."

"Wait—I can't," I said in a haste when he went to stand up. "I-I hurt my ankle. I can't walk on it."

Frustration crossed his expression, and he blew out a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair. "Alright," he spoke after a moment of contemplation. He inched closer, arms held out as he reached for me. "Come here."

Eyes widening at the gesture, I shied away from him, instinctively weary of being touched by a stranger—especially a teenage boy. I didn't care how nice his arms were.

"Hey, I'm going to keep you safe," he assured gently, his dark eyes softening.

He hesitated for a second and then reached for me once more, slowly, like he was just waiting for me to bolt, but I stayed rooted to my spot.

He slid one arm under my knees, the other around my waist, and then he lifted me like I weighed nothing at all. "You are one light she-bean," he noted.

I didn't have it in me to respond or wonder about his unusual slang as I loosely wound my arms around his neck, my head lulling against his warm chest. The adrenaline I'd felt rushing through my veins earlier had cleared out of my system, leaving me vulnerable to the exhaustion I'd pushed aside when I'd woken up.

The world blurred, sounds becoming muffled as my ears hummed. I barely registered anything that was happening around me as the boy carrying me swiftly navigated his way down several different passageways. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, no sense of hesitation or uncertainty in his movements.

My body jolted as an echoing screech pierced the air.

Clenching my eyes shut, I clung onto the collar of the boy's shirt and hid my face in his neck, trying to block out the noise.

"It's okay," he assured, his voice just above a whisper. "We're almost there."

Despite his consoling words, I could tell that he was as shaken as I was by the way his hands subconsciously held onto me with a firmer grip.

He veered around another corner, and after a moment, a distant voice shouted out, "He's coming!"

I pulled away from him in surprise, turning my head toward the source of the sound. My eyes widened, heart soaring with hope and relief as I looked down the passageway, my gaze latching onto the shaft of light. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by trepidation when I noticed multiple silhouettes congregated around the opening.

Chatter erupted as soon as the boy stepped out of the stone structure and into a grassy sort of field. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, but I couldn't see much of anything as people from various different directions sprinted toward us, forming a crowd around me and the boy still holding me. There were voices—so many voices—all overlapping, all talking over each other.

"What does he have?"

"I think it's a shucking girl."

"It is a girl, shank."

"How did she get here?"

"Shuck it, she's bleeding."

"Did she come from the Maze?"

"Think she saw a Griever?"

"Why would they send a girl?"

My head pounded fiercely with all the commotion, all the endless questions, all the bodies and faces pushing in.

"Back up, guys," a velvety voice suddenly ordered. The heavy accent it carried made it easily distinguishable from the others, and the chatter hushed considerably, the swarming assembly of curious individuals obediently retreating back a few steps. "Give him some bloody space, yeah?"

I held my breath as a boy, tall and lean in stature, emerged from the crowd, his presence authoritative and calming. He had tousled, golden blonde hair ruffled across his forehead and a sharp, angular jawline. He wore a dingy white shirt, dark pants, and like the Asian boy, donned a leather harness. The strap was thick and went diagonally across his chest, holstering some sort of weapon on his back. A weathered cuff made out of the same material was wound around his right wrist.

He approached carefully, and although his expression was devoid of any emotion, his chocolate colored eyes were attentive as they fell upon me. Our gazes locked momentarily and I swore I felt my stomach flip before he shifted to look at the boy who held me in his arms.

"Minho," he addressed, "what's going on?" His voice had quieted, eyes flickering to me once more. "Where the bloody hell did she come from?"

The dark-haired boy . . . Minho—it suited him, I thought—swallowed, and I belatedly realized he hadn't spoken a word since we came out of that stone structure. "I found her in the shucking maze," he answered, sounding utterly mystified.

Noise broke out amongst the crowd once more.

While the blonde turned to calm everyone, Minho seemed to shake himself out of whatever daze he was in and gently set me down on my feet, keeping one arm around my waist to support me as I balanced my weight on one leg.

"I'm okay," I said softly, wishing Minho's concerned expression would let up.

I pulled away from him, and with a look of clear skepticism, he reluctantly let me stand on my own. I wobbled for a moment, and he reached out for me again, but I insisted I was fine. I didn't want to be treated like a porcelain doll, like I could break at any second.

"Alright, that's enough," the blonde-haired boy spoke, effectively silencing all conversation. I marveled at him, surprised by the way he could take control without even raising his voice. "Slim yourselves for five bloody seconds while we figure this out."

He turned to face me and Minho, arms crossed over his chest. "What happened out there?" he repeated his earlier question, more stern than before.

Minho hesitated at first, and then opened his mouth, presumably to explain, but before he could say anything, a rush of wind came from the corridor behind us. Minho and I turned just slightly as it whistled out, blowing my hair over my shoulders. I raised my arm, along with a few others nearby, in an attempt to shield my face.

It died down after a few seconds, followed by the all too familiar sound of stone grinding against stone. I felt my breath quicken at the sight of the two walls sliding toward one another, shaking the ground I stood on.

We need to get back to the Glade before the shucking doors close.

That's what Minho meant by doors, I realized.

I couldn't stop myself from jumping when they sealed shut with a thunderous boom.

I didn't know what to think—where to even begin to process what just happened.

"Where's Blake?" I heard Minho ask, and when I tore my gaze from the doors to look at him, I was surprised to see alarm on his face. He had such a collected demeanor about him, I was a little startled by his panicked expression. "Did he make it back?"

"He's fine," the blonde answered. "A little scraped up, but fine. Alby's with him in the Med Hut."

"Shuck me." Minho ran both hands over his face before he began to ramble without preface. "I-I don't know what happened. Everything was normal, we were on our way back, and then the Maze just started changing and we got separated. I heard the Grievers and I freaked. I was searching for Blake when I found her instead, huddled against a wall and scared out of her shuck mind."

His comment seemed to remind everyone of my presence, and suddenly there were at least forty pairs of eyes on me—all belonging to boys of different ages and appearances.

Whether it was from all the attention or just fatigue, I felt lightheaded all of a sudden, the weight of my circumstances smashing into me like a freight train.

Through my haze, I vaguely registered the blonde's sharp gaze skim over my figure, lingering on my injured ankle for a moment before settling on the gash on my head. "She's hurt," he stated, eyebrows coming together in concern, the most emotion I'd seen from him thus far. "Someone get Jeff and Clint. Now."

Thoughts spinning, my eyelids became heavy, and the next thing I knew, I was collapsing into a pair of arms. The scent of caramel and pine washed over my fading senses, the strange combination surprisingly pleasant.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out—an image of a moment that I was sure would forever be etched in my mind—was the face of the boy with blonde hair and warm, chocolate brown eyes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I am sooo late to The Maze Runner fandom, but I just finished the entire book series and watched the two movies out so far and I'm completely obsessed. Newt is just an amazing character, he's so complex, has so many sides, and of course I needed to write my own story about him. A lot of the stories I read on here were very good and well written, really nice to read, but many of them really strayed from what Newt's character/personality is and I want to stay true to it in this.

This will mostly be based off what happens in the movies, but with some elements/scenes from the books included at parts where I think they fit best. This first chapter didn't have much Newt, but I wanted to establish my OC character (don't want to give away her name yet) and her platonic relationship with Minho. I don't want their friendship to just come out of nowhere, ya know? She's going to establish relationships with a lot of the characters aside from the romantic one she'll have with Newt because the Gladers are awesome.

Please follow, favorite, and comment letting me know what you think! I love hearing thoughts from readers and I'm very excited for the way this story is going to play out :)

xoxo