Great, we're all bloody inspired

“This isn't about you,”she snapped, throwing a glare over her shoulder. The shorthaired woman only stopped for a moment, her eyes widening. Then, just as quickly, she crossed her arms over her chest as if to shield herself while trailing behind her.

“You do plenty here. You do plenty where you don't risk dying a slow and painful death. How insane do you have to be to give that up?”she pointed out, frantically twisting her fingers to resist the urge to break something.

“I’m not going to. We’ve come so far in science, and I’ve worked so hard to prepare. Do you understand? Do you have any idea how much work-”

“You're being ridiculous. All of this is ridiculous,”she repeated, her voice raising at each word.

“Oh, so my entire career is a joke to you?”she scowled, finally looking at her.

She opened her mouth to respond. Not just respond but be honest, vulnerable, say what she really wanted to say.

I’m scared to be without you.

“You're making your life harder for no reason.”

“Brenda-”

“No! No, there's no reason for this! Absolutely none! You're just fine here! You can stay here! You'll be alive here!”she screamed, slamming her hands on the table. Flinching at the noise, she pressed herself to the wall. Her eyes grew wide, her face paling at the outburst.

“Why don't you believe in me?”she whispered, her eyes stinging with violent tears. Turning her gaze to the ground, she pushed down the nauseous guilt when she caught her breath.

She stood outside the next day, craning her neck in the crowd. All she wanted was a glimpse of those deep coffee eyes, of that comforting face, of assurance that maybe waking up in the empty bed was worth something. She waited and waited while she still clinged onto any sort of hope.

She looked onto the faces of cheering strangers and left with a heavy heart.

With her knees pulled to her chest, her love watched her leave from the porch. She was spinning the ring on her left hand as she watched the launch that went further and further away. Leaning her head against the beam, she let herself silently fall apart. Without so much as a goodbye, she waited for it to hit her that this would be the hardest year of her entire life.

@themazewomen

So I had no choice.

I answered dare.

The smirk that followed, something subtle and cocky, made me think losing wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Let Newt sit on your lap until the end of the game.”

If he wasn't paying attention before, he was now, his head snapping at him as he stared at me. I couldn’t control the way my face burned hotter than the fire as I raised an eyebrow. What kind of freak joke is that?

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

I do mind. I mind quite a lot actually.

I mind people knowing I mind more.

“Yeah. Sure,”I shrugged as casually as I could.

He got up with pure and unfiltered confidence. His brown eyes shimmered in the fire, hints of gold that made my face heat up.

He seemed to think nothing of it as he sat on my lap with everyone watching. I kept my hands firmly behind me, doing my best to be normal about all of this. I definitely never agreed to play for this to any kind of ending.

The first thing I noticed was that he was warm. Not the kind of harsh sun you need to pull away from or that makes you sweaty when you wake up. He was calmly warm, like he matched his personality. The second was that he smelt a lot like dirt and grapes, which was strangely nice.

A chorus of, “oooh’s” echoed in the air, which made me roll my eyes as casually as possible. I’m mostly sure Newt did the same, just like I’m mostly sure I’m the only one who saw the way the back of his neck was red.

Newt’s on my lap. Newt’s on my lap, and I’m being normal about it.

The game kept going, and people forgot about it unless it was one of our turns. Granted, the options were limited now that neither of us could move, but I didn't really feel like jumping from a tree branch anyways.

The longer the night went, the more natural it felt. It felt natural to put an arm around him when the position got uncomfortable, it felt natural for him to lean on my chest like this was a daily activity, and it felt natural to be way too close.

The game has to end soon.

The train contained the shiniest jewel in the entire world. There, still trapped inside, were the two most important people to ever live. She had been surrounded by what was as good as strangers. Nobody was Aris, with the ability to know when to go silent and when to talk your ear off. Nobody was her Sonya, the only ray of light in their cruel world.

She was quick to find them near the back, their hands chained down on their laps. The sight of sunlight shining through and Harriet wading through it made her seem like an angel. She was there to save them after an eternity of hell.

As she wrapped her arms around them, a tight hug that she had missed, Sonya felt herself right back in the fire.

The essence of the Safe Haven was the same as she remembered. Tents were set up to ensure privacy and mark zones. People were fixing things up or laughing in groups like everything was normal.

Every few seconds, someone checked over their shoulder or above their head. The sanctuary of the place was disturbed by something that was still following her. Even with her new clothes and hair redone, every part of Sonya felt stuck there. There was something different about being in WCKD when they weren't afraid to show their true colors. When they were desperate and running low on resources and willing to sacrifice every little obstacle.

Sitting alone on the beach, she stared off into the distance. The fresh air filled her lungs, a salty scent that she was waiting to be replaced with cold lab air again.

Harriet stood there for a moment, watching her girlfriend ground herself in her new reality. Her heart was a hundred times lighter. The cage she had been trapped in finally opened with the key she had spent months making with her bare hands.

“Hey. You awake over here?”she teased, placing a hand on her shoulder. Freezing at the contact, she tensed in her spot. Her face flushed with heat as she held her breath. Darkness loomed in over her, a cloud of chemicals and fear taking over her being.

“Sonya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here,”she choked out, physically pulling away. Her stomach churned at the unexpected rejection as she crossed her arms over her chest to give them something to do. The waves moved on, a quiet swishing back and forth on the sand. Because even after everything they had been through, the world was still spinning. Whether they healed or not, it would always be spinning.

“I’m really sorry. For leaving you there so long. I tried to get there sooner but,”she trailed off.

“I know. It's still amazing that you got me out at all,”she promised, looking at her. As if to prove it, she patted the spot beside her, inviting her to sit with the sunset. She did so at a distance she wasn't used to. Only six months ago they were practically in each other's laps. Their knees not even touching was a lifetime apart.

“We can talk about it. We can talk about whatever you want,”she promised, still looking at her with the kind of soft eyes that people wait decades for.

“I don't feel like I got out. Yet,”she admitted, mindlessly dragging her finger through the sand in front of her. Not knowing what to say, she said nothing at all. The words were still building up, grievances that had been forced back trying to arrange themselves in something a little more comprehendable.

“I know it's you. But I’m still waiting to turn around and see . . . them,”she whispered, curling her knees to her chest. Feeling her heart shatter, she instinctively reached out to make it better only to catch herself at the last second.

“You are here now. With me. And I won't let anyone touch you again. Not until you want it.”

“Even if it's you?”

“Of course. Even if it's me.”

Still standing there, Harriet tried to figure out the best way to keep her promise and how to rearrange the room. The one cot was clearly out of the picture for now, but she wasn't sure what the best course of action for two would be. Completely opposite sides? Vertical and horizontal? Someone close to the door? There wasn't exactly a guide book for helping your traumatized lover heal after getting back from a government organization that also traumatized you.

Interrupting her train of thought, Sonya finally made it to their small space. Hearing her footsteps, she turned around to see her ready for bed, light hair hanging over her shoulders and Harriet’s old shirt she already got her hands on. As she was glued in that spot, her heart skipping a beat at the sight she died without, the single bed was noticed.

“We can share for a while. If we have to,”she reluctantly promised.

“No. Just figuring out how to go bother Vince about this,”she promised, making her way out. Before she left, she blew a kiss, a promise of permanent love without a single fingerprint exchanged. Catching it in her hand, she let herself truly grin for the first time in so long. She had almost forgotten what it felt like for your cheeks to hurt from pure happiness. She hadn't expected it to be because her girlfriend was already going out of her way to adjust to the hopefully temporary boundaries, but she wasn't at all shocked Harriet would work so quickly to do it.

@themazewomen

The brunette was wasting the break. His brow furrowed every now and then or a small smile would cross his lips. The telepathy was obvious on his side (the other boy had mastered the deadpan expression).

What could they possibly be talking about that was so important? So what? This Aris guy and Thomas probably go back thanks to their WICKED powers. Who cares? He’s here now, and that’s what matters.

His instruction for them to get moving left no room for objections. Nobody dared question him seeing as his eyes held the rage of a thousand Cranks. With an obliviousness only Thomas could have, he attempted to pair up with the olive-skinned boy and childhood friend he had been thrown into free labor with.

Before he could even touch the sheet, Minho grabbed his hand, pulling him his direction. He followed blindly, more than okay with being beside the love of his life. Was he aware the hand grasping his in the desert heat was because of a point that he was taken? No. Did he mind it?

He took a deep breath as he prepared for the win. Either he got first place, or he got nothing at all. If it wasn’t a number one medal, it could go in the trash.

“Go!”

Thomas cheered as his boyfriend was off, clapping his hands together. The track star felt the way his feet hit the ground as the wind whooshed passed his face. His shoulders were finally light, the weight of everything else brushing off his mind. This was all his world was, all it had ever been.

He pushed himself like his life was in danger, sweat dripping down his forehead as the sun beat down on him. The air smelt like dirt and salt, an athletic scent that had become his peace. His legs burned and ached, so much so that he had to remind himself that stopping would only make it hurt worse.

The finish line was right in front of him, barely an inch away. The guy beside him noticed too, panting as he could see victory in reach.

This could kill him if he screwed up.

But his pride was stronger than his will to live.

Pushing off the ground, he physically threw himself over the line. His face burned at the feeling he never expected, a strange relief as both feet left the Earth. Knowing what was coming, he tightly shut his eyes as he won by just a second.

And then the sound of an angry snap when he landed.

Thomas could only watch Minho lay on the recliner, giving one word responses as he stared at the ceiling. His face was blank despite the dark circles under his eyes. The white cast had sucked all of the color from his world. Food had no taste, candles had no scent, and he was too numb to even feel the disappointment at this point.

“I bet you ten bucks he’s the father,”Thomas bet from the couch beside him. He didn’t even offer a grunt this time. Why the hell would he care about someone else’s mess of a life when his own was falling apart?

As he glanced over, he noticed the empty water bottle. Without a word, he picked it up and walked passed him to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight and the fridge covered it up, he let himself sigh as he closed his eyes. He could feel the limit approaching and hear warning bells getting closer and closer. Between the uncomfortable silence they were always in to being accused of sabotage for getting him a popsicle, he had a feeling this was the test of loyalty.

And he had a feeling Minho wasn’t that interested in passing.

He knew track was important to Minho. Running had been there since he was young, had comforted him when he didn’t know how to speak. It built him up into who he was, and he was better for it.

Thomas knew running was important to him.

“May our cold be useful for once.”

They exchanged a look that said yeah right. They had seen snow in other states, but they were screwed when it came to theirs. It was either hot, rainy, or humid. There were plenty of perfect beach days, but it was a hell of a drive. The river was closer to them, but it was basically isolated. They had to pack their food, drinks, fill up the gas tank, and make sure they had plenty of supplies. It was a pain.

In short, snow was a rarity.

Closing the door, they walked past their Christmas tree and into their room. Naturally, Thomas had insisted on red, white, and green lights around their walls and ornaments hung off of them. If they were going to celebrate, they were going to celebrate right.

They just wanted the weather to agree.

Crawling under their red snowflake blanket, Minho let Thomas cling to him, his arms wrapped around him as he curled up to his side. Minho patted his head once as their legs intertwined. This was what worked, what had always worked. Minho gave small bursts of affection and showed love through making his life easier, and Thomas worshipped Minho like a God.

When they woke up under a single blanket, they found themselves freezing to death. Body heat was the only reason they had made it through the night, but even that was slowly becoming not enough. They were both shivering, and their teeth were chattering. Never in their life had they been frigid like this. Ever.

The first thing Minho did was say, “god damnit”.

The second was sit up and stare at Thomas with hope for the first time.

The dark haired boy rushed out of the room in nothing but his present boxers. The bright eyed boy (in an entire pyjama set), rushed behind him, wearing that kid on Christmas smile for the first time in years.

Throwing the door open, Minho revealed a thick layer of snow covering everything, with more still falling from the sky. It looked like pure magic, a white blanket calling their names. The thing they had done every stupid old wives tale for, the thing they didn’t believe they would ever see in their lifetime, was here.

“Cool. Cocaine!”Minho celebrated way too loudly.

At the end of the day, Gally was right. That definitely didn't sit right with him seeing as he wouldn't admit it. Then again, the taller guy didn't plan on talking about it either. It didn't exactly end well.

Sensing someone’s eyes, he turned around. His back flexed as he did, a feature he couldn't control but that Thomas was still admiring. His biceps were still there after everything, the thing that made it okay when he shoved him against the Maze wall. He wouldn't mind if it happened again, wouldn't even mind being put in a headlock.

Minho had never seen that look in anyone's eyes before. At the very least, not directed at him.

But he knew exactly what it meant.

He stood up, walking towards the beautiful brunette. With his heart racing in his chest, his mouth parted, something that made one of his only friends left want him more.

“Rough week, huh?”he opened the conversation, a subtle smirk on his face.

“That's one way to put it.”

He leaned closer, the scent of moonshine on his breath. The freckled boy shivered at the feeling of his breath, something warm that made him fuzzy inside. The feelings he had no choice but to push down to survive finally cracked through.

“I know one way to make it better.”

The words took a minute to register, something that had to be a fantasy. After all this time, after so long, how could he want him too? How could his heart beat in sync?

“Well, prove it.”

Everyone else disappeared as Minho pushed his mouth against his, something way too harsh for a first kiss. Then again, neither of them minded. This was more than needed, a relief from the world.

Wrapping his arms around his shoulders, he kissed back. Pressing a hand to the back of his head, he pressed them closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of tragedy and new beginnings on their tongues.

The second they pulled apart, Minho grabbed his hand, dragging him to his hut. Following blindly, more than happy to let him take control, he followed.

They ended up in his bed the second the door shut, hands travelling under clothes as lips crashed together. The sound of heavy breaths and caring whispers filled the room, a yearning come to life. With buttons being undone and things pulled off, what started as a romantic wish being fulfilled turned into something more.

Thomas was the first to open his eyes, blinking as everything took a second to register. Sunshine filled the room through the curtains, shining down on them.

Slowly sitting up, he looked at the one beside him, laying on his back. His breaths were even, a steady rise and fall that had him hypnotized. His hair was messy for the first time, finally out of place.

As if sensing the eyes, he groaned as he stretched. With an already clear mind, he turned over, finding those brown familiar eyes.

“Morning to you too,”he yawned, sitting up.

“Did you mean it?”he immediately blurted out, his heart jumping to his threat.

“I don't do anything I don't mean,”he shrugged, placing a kiss to one of the several hickeys on his neck. He shuddered as goosebumps traveled up his arms, something lovely and calm filling his soul.

“Are you going to mean it in front of others?”

“Move, Minho. Move,”he hissed, smacking the control panel. As though he could hear him, Minho turned a corner quicker than the creature could keep up with, making it skid to a halt. Refusing to stop, he jumped, digging his nails into the small space in the wall. Pulling himself up, he started crawling through, with Ben right beside him.

He had escaped.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders still tense. He never intended to be this way, to obsess over the dark haired boy's every move, to crave someone he couldn't have.

But the heart wants what it wants and his wanted Minho.

WCKD was no fool. They noticed everything. They noticed the way Thomas's eyes lingered on Minho, they noticed the way his mouth would part in a gasp when he smiled, and they noticed the way he was undoubtedly in love with Minho.

That wouldn't do. They couldn't have their best subject distracted. They wouldn't allow it.

Even if that meant losing him.

To the rest of the Gladers, it was just a normal day. The alarm flashed like it always did, warning them of the newcomer arriving.

To Thomas, everything about his world has flipped upside down. He didn't know his name, he didn't know he worked for the people that put him there, and he didn't know why he was going up somewhere in a giant dark elevator. His screams and banging on the walls were pointless, merely a waste of breath that would give everyone a laugh. That was easier than having empathy, because having empathy meant remembering their own struggle up.

The box stopped suddenly, making him fly back. As it opened, he put out his arm, wide brown eyes taking in the scene before him.

He was surrounded by boys.

Oh god, was this a cult? Was he being sacrificed? What the actual hell was happening?

As he opened his mouth to ask something, one of the larger ones jumped down, kneeling way too close to his face. His heart pounded in his ears as the boy looked over him like he was defective. Everything about him, from his dominant stance to his buzzed hair, was intimidating.

Some part of Thomas knew that was what he wanted. Just not from him.

“Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine.”

Before he could do anything about it, he was hauled out of the box and tossed onto the grass like last night's chicken leg. His confusion had only grown by now as he slowly looked up, trying to tune out the uncontrollable laughing of strangers.

Waiting in front of him were two doors. Where they led, he wasn't sure, but it had to be better than here.

He stood up and sprinted before anyone had the chance to stop him. Surprisingly though, nobody even lifted a finger, still giggling like a pack of hyenas. Someone shouted, “we got a Runner!” which seemed self-explanatory enough. Although, it was concerning that so many people ran and all they got was laughed at. They couldn't be a good sign.

Still, he kept going, ignoring the way his legs burned as he almost reached the edge. Right as he could taste something more than this place, something more than a lack of memories and weird guys, one of his feet caught on the other, sending him rolling into the grass. He yelped like an injured puppy as he hit the ground, getting the wind absolutely kicked out of him.

What a morning.

The first thing Thomas realized was that his questions were treated as nuisances. Nobody seemed to care that he was thrust into this place with no warning. If anything, they were apathetic to his presence once it couldn't serve them, which stung for some reason.

The second was that Chuck was most likely to let something slip. He was a talkative boy, chubby with brown curly hair that bounced at every step. He was the youngest, which made his bubbly personality make sense, although the older boy seemed to be stressing him out for some reason.

“So we're just stuck here?”he had to clarify again.

“Yep. Simple as that,”the short one nodded, his hands on his hips like he had solved something spectacular.

“But how could it be-”

“Hey, Chuck. How's Keeper life treating you?”

Thomas stopped, watching an Asian boy jog past them. He was covered in sweat and dirt, though he barely seemed to need extra air, as though his lungs were built for it. His dark hair was perfectly in place, while his ebony eyes seemed made to haunt souls and break hearts.

“It's great,”he smiled, wide and toothy. All the while, the nameless boy stood there, connecting pieces he wasn’t ready to understand.

“I thought you said nobody was allowed in there?”

“Yeah, but they’re different. They’re Runners, they’re allowed in the Maze,”he absentmindedly explained. Where the realization hit him, cold and heavy, his eyes widened in horror. He tried to backtrack, but Thomas was already going towards the entrance, peering inside. Chuck followed as fast as his little legs would allow, calling after Greenie.

“You can’t go in there. It’s against the rules,”he insisted.

“It’s fine, I just want to see,”he waved him off.

It was not fine.

“Hey!”Gally shouted harshly. Before he could explain himself, he was thrown backwards, sending him flying to the ground. He could literally see the light of the sun flash before his eyes before he landed with a thud and that same dislikable expression standing above him.

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Greenie.”

He scrambled up with no destination in mind, demanding answers now. Acting as though he hadn’t sent him soaring, the taller boy urged for him to calm down, his hands out in surrender.

By now, Minho had left his space, shower things in hand. He had watched everything, had seen Greenie’s determination that could be a problem, had watched Gally throw him around like a rag doll. It truly was a beautiful sight. It only made him wish he could have seen Gally do it earlier.

Other than that, nothing was special about Greenie. Because why would there be? As far as they knew, they were complete strangers.

Greenie was more special than any of them had thought. Not only was he impulsive with a death wish, but he was doing things nobody had ever done before. Things like killing Greivers and surviving a Maze.

Who knew that was a call for suspicion?

He rolled his eyes as the guy who had literally been tossing him around insisted on punishment. He was the biggest stickler for rules Thomas had ever met while Thomas was the biggest rule breaker Gally had the displeasure of meeting. They were like two peas in a pod, if those peas were given instructions to murder each other.

“He’s violated every rule there is. I’m just gonna say it. He’s a danger to everyone around.”

“I think you’re forgetting he saved our asses out there,”Minho defended, voice steady and firm.

“I don’t really give a klunk what he did when he’s part of the issue.”

“No, that’s the problem. I know you don’t care, because the Maze isn’t your problem anymore, is it?”

The room went dead silent. Everyone was holding their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Since the first week, it was made clear Gally and the Maze were two words that were never meant to be uttered together, much less as an insult.

As Gally went to storm off, the alarm blared way too early, making everyone look at each other. Brows furrowed and lips pursed together, a collection of confused faces staring at each other, asking for answers. Thomas had his head snapped towards the sound, ears perked up in that stupid curiosity that made Gally want to strangle him.

They followed the sound, slowly at first, then a plethora of feet hit the ground, trying to see what the commotion was about. Thomas lingered behind everyone, a nasty feeling bubbling up in his stomach that he was going to find himself at the center of the mess again. He must have been cursed or maybe worse, though he wasn’t sure what could top magic bad luck.

The doors open right as he pushed through the crowd, revealing what some thought was a fantasy. There, sleeping peacefully in the box, was a girl. Her dark long hair was flat behind her while her fingers gently clasped around something that Newt was pulling out of her hand.

It was certainly weird, but all Thomas could think about was how beautiful she was.

“She’s the last one ever,”the British voice read aloud. Looking up at everyone, his nose scrunched up as he asked what the hell it meant.

Before anyone even had the opportunity to answer, she shot up, sea blue eyes staring up at nothing. She sounded like she was gasping for air, her chest rising and falling at a panicked pace as she got out one word, one name.

“Thomas.”

Then, she was asleep.

He knew they were staring at him, wondering what his connection was to her, but he couldn’t care less. His heart fluttered too violently and stomach churned too aggressively. Because some part of him remembered the connection to the girl.

His old connection to Minho?