#poly!newtmas

she stumbles in her stepping back, and she blinks dumbly at him. "i was just with him." she purls, nearly whimpering when the brunet settles his hands against his hips with a huff. "well go find him again, yeah? this'll be done soon."

he knows her expression, and he knows her next words before she speaks them, and with that, he can't hide the smile that tugs at his lips. "but i don't wanna."

newt sidles up behind her, leaning the brunt of his weight against the stake he has gripped in his right hand. "what's the problem?"

thomas licks over his teeth as she crosses her arms over his chest. "she won't let me leave. kid, there's no need for tears, yeah? i'll be in and out."

she's crying out with frustration now. "i'm not gonna cry!" the tears that weigh on her lashline betray her, and newt is unable to contain the laughter that bubbles to the surface.

“Tommy…. I think she might be ready tonight.” Newt muses as he gently thrusts three fingers inside your ass, spreading them slightly to get you stretched. Your eyes widen at his words, and you crane your head back to try to see him.

“Yeah? You think she’s loose enough?” Thomas is standing at the side of the bed, fisting his cock languidly with one hand while the other strokes up and down your back. You can just barely catch Newt’s nod from the angle you’re at.

“She took me back here just fine last night, so she’s still nice and loose from that.” The brit explains, pulling his fingers out of your hole and stroking the excess oil onto his cock. “Reckon she’ll take both of us just fine.”

“What do you say, baby?” Thomas asks, hooking his pointer finger under your chin to guide you to meet his eyes. “Wanna try it?”

“You’ll…. You’ll be gentle, right? Take it slow?”

“Course we will, poppet. We’d never hurt you.” Newt says reassuringly, calloused hand caressing your waist down to your hip. You nod, excitement bubbling up inside you as you offer both boys a nod.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s try it.”

With some maneuvering you get into position, Thomas below you on the mattress, your chest pressed against his, and Newt behind you, gripping your hips and rubbing the head of his cock over your lubricated hole.

“Who should go inside first?”

“Probably me, yeah? Get the tough bit out of the way?” Newt suggests, waiting for your input. You nod.

“Yeah, makes sense. You first.” You murmur, voice slightly shaky with nerves. Thomas reaches up to cup your face.

“Take it easy, baby. If it doesn’t feel good, just tell us, and we’ll stop.” You nod again, and Newt starts applying pressure to your rim, slowly pushing inside you.

“Thaaat’s it, sweetheart. Bloody hell you’re tight. Feel so fuckin’ good for me. Lemme in, just like that.” The slew of dirty praise as you moaning and relaxing enough that he can slide in without issue, bottoming out after a few seconds of steady pushing.

“Alright? Feels okay?” The brunet below you asks, looking up at you with furrowed brows. You nod, letting out a pleasured sigh.

“Yeah. Really good.” You’re already breathless. “Want you too, Thomas. Want you to your cock in my pussy.”

“Fuck, Tommy, can’t turn that down now can you?” Newt pipes up. You can’t see him, but you can picture the smirk on his face well.

Thomas can’t, it turns out, turn that down, and within moments you feel the head of his cock swiping against your clit and then down to your entrance. Made easier by how wet you are, he starts pushing inside you, separated from Newt by only a thin layer of flesh.

“Fuck.” You gasp out, eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping the pillow on either side of Thomas’s head like a lifeline. “Oh my god, Thomas.”

“‘S that good? Or do you need me to stop?” His voice is tight, and though he doesn’t say it, you can hear the hidden prayer of “please don’t ask me to stop” in his strained tone.

“Don’t stop. It feels so- I’m so full.” You stumble over your words, overwhelmed by pleasure. Slowly, Newt pulls out of you, and in tandem Thomas does the same, building up a slow rhythm of alternating thrusts.

You wake slowly, your mind full of hazy thoughts of comfortable couches and electrical lights. Images floated away gradually, like memories you had remembered in your dreams that didn't seem relevant to remember in your consciousness. The feeling remained though, warm and safe and happy.

You blink your eyes open, and the first thing you notice is a head of blond hair turned away from you, laying the same way you are, aside from the pillow under his head. The second thing you notice is that the warm, comforting feeling isn't quite going away. You feel something pressing on you, and you glance down to notice a familiar cream-coloured blanket lying draped across you, heavy and warm. You wonder where it came from, then notice that the boy next to you doesn't have a blanket of his own. Not anymore, anyway.

You sit up slowly, groggily, and stretch your muscles to finally gain some movement. It's still dark out, though you couldn't tell if the sky was getting lighter or if perhaps there was a nearby light source, like the bonfire last night, lighting the Glade up gradually. From the sounds of- well, nothing, you figured the party was over and likely not the bonfire. Maybe if you got up now you would be able to watch the sunrise in this mysterious place.

The blanket was thick and soft under your hand as you took hold of it. You pondered, briefly, if you should wrap it around your shoulders and take it with you on your walk. You half wanted to, but looking down at Newt beside you, and Thomas curled up rather close next to him, you felt your resolve to steal his blanket away crumble. You pulled the blanket up and off of you, then gently draped it over the sleeping boy. You held back a laugh at the tattered piece of cloth that Thomas used as a 'blanket,' and pushed yourself to your feet.

Leaving the little sleeping area of the Glade was harder than when you went to bed. This time it was full of bodies, hanging from hammocks or lying stretched across the floor, all facing random directions. You tried to move as quietly as possible, dodging around stray hands and feet that stuck out just enough to trip. You took your time though, so no one was harmed or awoken by your movements.

You walked the Glade in slow, leisurely steps. You didn't like the idea of being found in the centre of the whole area so you made your way to the wall first. The doors you had watched close were still pressed tightly together, and you felt along the crease on the wall gently. You let your hand gently drag across the stone as you started walking, toward and around the outskirts of the farms.

The sky was gradually becoming lighter, just slow enough to not notice as it happened, but fast enough that by the time you reached the east gate, the sky was full of a light pink. You watch the sky, a gentle white puff of a cloud floating past, and smile at the serene silence surrounding you. You knew you were trapped here in some giant stone box, but for just a moment you felt peaceful enough to relax. But only for a moment.

The grinding of stone started, extremely loud in your ears, and you jumped away from the wall quickly as it began moving under your hand. Your eyes widened impossibly large, watching as the stone doors began sliding open directly in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat, terror filled your belly, and you felt frozen in place. You hadn't expected this side to open. Yesterday it had been the northern and southern sides?

Just as the doors opened enough to see down the long hall, something at the end caught your vision. A tangle of slimy black organic material and shiny, sharp iron coalesced into one great big shape, moving- or rather, crawling- oddly toward the end of the corridor. Its movements were janky, flailing slightly, and it practically climbed the side of the wall as it turned right at the end of the hall, and suddenly it was no longer in view. It was terrifying to behold, but something else was terrifying you even more.

You remembered it. You didn't remember seeing it exactly, which was weird, but you remembered the description. It was as if you read about this creature, the way it operated and the horror it could unleash. You weren't just scared because it looked horrid, you were scared because you knew the damage it could do- and has done.

"It's called a Griever." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the spoken words behind you, twisting to gawk at whoever had caught you off guard. Newt stood there, arms crossed against his torso, staring into the hall past you. Looking behind him, you could see multiple Gladers already up and moving about, getting ready for the day. Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes fell back to the blond, studying him for a moment.

You hummed, unsure of what to say. You knew it was a Griever, you knew what it did and how it operated, and that a sting from it could turn a person crazy. But you also knew that telling anyone you knew this might be dangerous. Newt was explaining this to you as if you shouldn't know already. You were told everyone lost their memories, only gaining back their name. Why were you remembering so much so easily?

Your confusion must've shown on your face, as Newt didn't seem too suspicious about your lack of response. You could see him studying you, but he seemed to come to some kind of conclusion that you couldn't begin to comprehend. He took the last few steps toward you that had separated the two of you, laying a gentle hand on your elbow.

"Fry should be done making the early riser's breakfast. Let's go grab something to eat." He spoke softly, gently tugging on your arm. You followed willingly, though your stomach turned at the thought of food after just witnessing a Griever in person. He kept his hand on you for half the walk before finally dropping it away, and for some reason, you missed the comforting heat of it.

Arriving at the shuttered building, Newt knocked on the window twice before suddenly a man swung one side open, grinning at the two of you. He worked the other side open, and you could see him notice and study you for a moment.

"Must be the new Greenie, nice ta' meet ya'." His voice was smooth, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Name's [Y/N]. You must be Fry?"

"Frypan, yeah, but Fry is good too." He studied you for a moment as he scooped some food into bowls, handing them over through the window. "Weird you got your name back so soon. Happen this mornin'?"

"Yesterday, actually. Almost immediately after coming up," Newt inserted, grinning over at you and handing you one of the bowls. "Probably the quickest anyone has." You heard Fry laughing behind the two of you as you followed Newt over to an empty table, sitting and looking at your breakfast. It was a mix of scrambled eggs and some kind of salsa. Taking a bite, flavour burst across your tongue, and you were grateful that Fry ended up being such a great cook. You could definitely get used to living in the Glade if this was the food you got three times a day.

"Good?" You looked up after shovelling a few bites into your mouth, noticing an amused Newt eating at a rather normal pace compared to you. You finish chewing and swallowing, clearing your throat before replying.

"Didn't realize how hungry I was. And this is good." Newt grinned at this, nodding along before taking another bite.

"Benefit of growing or raising all of your own food, I guess."

The sky was finally brightening to a light blue, and you could hear the Glade becoming livelier with it. Gladers were forming a long line at the kitchen window, and others were getting ready for their day's work. You glanced back to the sky, noticing another couple of clouds. One of them looked to be shaped like a dog- if dogs had long necks.

"Where do you go when it rains?" The question was out of your mouth before you really even processed saying it. The clouds above drifted lazily by, puffy and white and looking nowhere full of condensation. It still seemed like a relevant question to ask though, until Newt spoke.

"It doesn't." This causes you to look back down from the sky, watching as Newt took another bite of his eggs. You blinked a few times and glanced between the sky and Newt once more.

"What do you mean it doesn't? Surely it's rained at some point in the last eight years?" Newt's shrug seemed casual, but you could see the slight stiffness of his shoulders if you really looked.

"It just hasn't. We don't know why."

"Where do you get your water from then?"

"The Creators," Newt answers easily, shovelling in another bite. He finally looks up at you, studying you before tapping his own bowl with his spoon. "Eat up, you'll need the energy."

You took another bite in response, watching Newt nod his head. Suddenly Chuck appeared by Newt's side, his own bowl in hand with a giant smile on his face, shovelling a bite into his mouth before speaking with his mouth full.

"Ready for work, Greenie?"

You chuckled at his manners- or, lack thereof- and nodded to him, taking your own bite. Chuck began talking animatedly about his job, and the duties he was planning on for the day. He assured you that you could have the easier ones, since you were new, and you appreciated it. At some point during his spiel Thomas had shown up, sliding onto the bench next to you. He sat close by, his thigh pressing against your own, and you felt comforted by his presence.

As Chuck continued to drone on, Thomas joking around with him every so often, you finally glanced up to lock eyes with Newt. His expression had been neutral, or slightly puzzled if anything, though smoothed out quickly. The ends of his lips quirked up slightly, a tiny smile that felt solely for you. With the press of Thomas against you, and Newt's comforting gaze and soft smile directed at you, it was as if the 'why's and 'how's didn't quite matter anymore. And wasn't that just a terrifying prospect?

≣≣≣≣≣

Slopper duty, it turns out, was just as horrible as everyone made it out to be. Chuck hadn't fooled you in any way, he had been extremely honest in that this was possibly the grossest job in the entire Glade. And you were even given the easiest parts.

Chuck had worked with you at first, before being pulled away by what some Glader called an 'Outhouse Emergency,' and you dread to think of what that might entail. Currently, you are shovelling animal… excrement into a mix of dirt and other compost, and you had hoped to get used to the smell by now, but the sun was high in the sky at this point and you could still smell nothing else. You were somewhere toward the middle of what was called the Deadheads, Chuck explaining that the smell wasn't exactly something the other Gladers had wanted to live around. You couldn't help but agree.

Lifting an arm, you wipe the sweat from your brow and lean against the shovel planted into the ground. Breathing through your nose was bad, but breathing through your mouth almost seemed worse. You weren't sure if you were ever going to be able to get rid of this stink, and hoped dearly that you wouldn't be asked to continue this after lunch. The thought of lunch turned your stomach in a bad direction, and you shook your head to try to physically rid yourself of such thoughts.

"Alright, so just finish that up and you can take a break 'til after lunch, good that?" You turned, spying Chuck and another Glader walking in your direction. The Glader nodded enthusiastically, spouting off some thanks before turning and jogging back to their work. Chuck nodded once and continued on his way toward you, lighting up when he noticed you watching. "'Ey, no one told you that you could stop!"

"Just a small rest Chuckie, I'm dying of thirst out here." You chuckled good-naturedly, though you watched as Chuck's brows furrowed from concern.

"Awh, shuck. I meant to leave a canteen here for you," He expressed, jogging closer to you and reaching for his own canteen slung by a long strap across his torso. He pulled it off, throwing it over to you. Catching it, you uncork it quickly and begin to take a drink. After, you wiped your mouth with a smile.

"Wasn't really dying, but nice to know you care." You took another sip, watching the boy become suddenly shy, raising a hand to pat at his curly hair.

"Well- I mean- of course. I care for all of my friends." This brought a quick and easy smile to your face, and you could feel the fondness for the boy showing so plainly on your face.

"Already? I've barely been here a day, and you consider me a friend?" You watch Chuck look taken aback, then look adorably confused.

"Well, yeah. Why not?" You smile, tossing his canteen back and watching him sling it back over his shoulder. You study him for a moment, the tool belt around his waist, and remember the looks the other Sloppers had been giving him.

"So how's it feel to be the youngest Keeper?" Chuck met your eyes again with a mischievous smirk, and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"You mean the youngest Glader?"

"Wait- you're the youngest? Of everyone?"

"Yep," Chuck popped out, "And it's been challenging, but I mean- someone's gotta be the youngest. Just like someone's gotta be the oldest, or wisest, or nosiest." You laughed at this, shaking your head.

"Ah, yeah? And who would those be?"

"Alby, Newt, and Thomas, respectively." Chuck laughed, and you couldn't help but join in. "But, to be serious for a moment, I guess-" He huffed lightly, reaching to take the shovel from your grasp and lean it against a nearby tree. "It is kinda hard. They don't like to involve me with a lot of plans, I feel excluded most of the time. Even though I've been here five years, and I've proven myself. I know I have."

You tried to keep the pity from showing on your face, but you felt bad for the kid. You understood why the others might do that, but he seemed adult enough, now. They may still see him as a kid, but he certainly handles himself and his job well. He may be a young adult, the youngest here, but he didn't deserve exclusion from the group of Keepers that he should've been a part of.

"Chuck," You began, your voice quiet as he refused to meet your eyes. You take a step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I know I can't say much, being here for hardly any time at all. But, I saw the way the Sloppers looked to you." At this, Chuck finally lifted his watery gaze, meeting your eyes. "They respect you. You lead them, and they trust every decision you make. I can't say anything for the other Keepers, but they'd be fools not to have your input in regards to the Glade. You have one of the most important and hardest jobs here."

Chuck laughed weakly, raising a hand to rub his eyes with his forefinger and thumb roughly. "Hardest, huh?" You laugh at this, swallowing roughly.

"Yeah. And- I mean, I'll help you out the rest of the day of course. But I don't know if I'm cut out for this work." Chuck laughed at this, finally dropping his hand to turn toward you, patting your back with hard thumps twice.

"Ah, yeah. I could tell. Don't worry though, it's not for everyone. Every Greenie's gotta try it out first though, otherwise, we'd never get any helpers." You barked a laugh at this, shaking your head. Chuck continues anyway, pulling you along, "But I think you've earned yourself a break, regardless. C'mon, lunch should be ready soon."

≣≣≣≣≣

You spent your lunch with the Sloppers in the far corner of the picnic area, away from the rest of the Gladers and their noses. You joined in on some of the laughter and jokes surrounding you, though mostly your eyes roamed your new home. Some builders were still out, working through lunch, but most Gladers sat at different tables in front of the kitchen or ate in the shade of the Deadheads across the way. You noticed Newt had been sitting next to Alby, laughing brightly and nudging the man with his elbow every so often.

Lunch passed quicker than you would have liked, and luckily the second part of your shift also seemed to zip by. Before you knew it, a loud bell rang through the Glade. You glanced up from your work, buckets piled in front of you, to notice almost every Glader dropping their tools and leaving their work for the day. You left the buckets where they were, jogging closer to Chuck. He and another Slopper were laughing, walking away from whatever project they had.

"Hey Chuckie," You grin as the boy blushes at the nickname, "Can you point out the showers? I'm not too keen to keep smelling like this."

"Ah, yeah no problem." Chuck waved his friend on, turning toward the Homestead. "The water isn't hot or anything, but shouldn't be too cold either. It's actually part of the job as a Slopper to keep the water silo full, at the top up there." You look where he's pointing, a large bucket-shaped thing sitting near the roof of the Homestead. "Builders engineered a kinda piping system. Since the water starts up there, it's basically just gravity that lets the water fall down. And since it's so high up, the sun heats the water enough to not be so chilled, like the lake."

After his explanation of how the showers worked, and where to find the necessities, you felt the hard day's work bleed off your skin. The shower, while it would've been nicer if it had been hotter, was decent enough. Soon after, you felt clean enough and hoped you had scrubbed the Slopper smell from your pores. You also hoped, once again, that you'd never have to get used to that smell.

You were just leaving the Homestead when you noticed the group of Runners arrive back in the Glade. Your eyes were locked on the few of them, something tugging at the back of your mind that said this was familiar while not explaining why. You were walking slowly with no destination in mind as you watched them, Newt jogging up soon and handing out a couple of canteens to the group of them.

They were discussing something, Minho elbowing Thomas and laughing brightly, the other just rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He didn't seem to respond, choosing instead to sip his canteen and begin scanning the Glade. You noticed Newt watch him do this, hands on his hips as he nodded along to whatever story Minho was telling. Your eyes fell back on Thomas just as the boy's eyes fell upon you.

Your feet stopped abruptly, locking eyes with him, and watched a slow smile spread across his face. Next to him, Newt follows his eye line and locks eyes with you as well, a similar smile spreading across his own face. You see more than hear Minho begin to shout something, waving his arms and elbowing Newt, causing the man to flinch and laugh at his friend. The other Runners were already dispersing, and you felt like you were standing still for too long, though unsure where to go.

Thomas began heading in your direction, screwing the cap of his canteen back on and slinging the strap around his torso, and you noticed Newt follow close behind. Minho threw his hands up, yelling something you still couldn't quite hear before the Keeper began to jog to catch up to his friends. Now knowing they were heading toward you, you felt less awkward just standing in one place for so long.

"Hey! How's the first day in the Glade?" Thomas called out before he could quite reach you, and you noticed Newt begin to unsteadily jog to catch up. Minho shook his head with a laugh behind the two, and you shrugged.

"Second, technically. But, fine. Messy, I guess," You answered, running a hand through your wet hair. "Hope I don't reek too bad still?" You had phrased this as a question, though were afraid of the answer. Newt laughed as he finally slowed to a stop, though Thomas kept approaching until he was in your personal space, leaning close.

"Nah," He began, a smile lighting up his features as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fresh as daisies." He took a belated step backwards, as if remembering a little too late how close he still was. You laughed awkwardly, shrugging again.

"Ah, well, that's reassuring."

"Did you just sniff them, shank?" You heard Minho's incredulous voice from behind the two and leaned over slightly to see the, as expected, incredulous expression on his face. You weren't quite sure how to feel about this. You had asked, you just hadn't expected an actual answer like that. Thomas was red, from the heat or embarrassment you weren't sure, and Newt was just laughing loudly alongside the group.

"I- uh, well, they asked," Thomas stuttered out, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and taking another step back. Minho just shook his head, crossing his arms and nodding toward you finally.

"And you, how was your first day on the job? Sloppers, yeah?"

"Yeah," You agreed easily, glad for the change of subject and grasping it quickly, "I worked pretty closely with Chuck for a lot of the time. He gave me the easy jobs, at least that's what he told me."

"He did," Newt agreed, his smirk remaining but finally able to get his laughter under control. He passed Minho and slung an arm around Thomas' shoulders, leaning against him. Thomas didn't seem to mind, and by the shuffling of his feet, also seemed to lean into Newt as well.

"Oh, and how would you know, Mister TrackHoe?" Minho asked, chuckling lightly and turning his crossed arms and curious expression toward Newt. The man just shrugs, keeping his expression.

"Well, I kept an eye on them, yeah? Gotta make sure the Greenie doesn't run off anywhere."

"Yeah, sure, that's why you'd do it," Minho mumbled to himself, and you wondered what he had meant by that. Thomas spoke up abruptly, blocking your train of thought as you turned toward him.

"What's your job tomorrow? Do you know yet?" You hesitated, tilting your head in thought. Newt jumped in, sensing your hesitation.

"Slicers, tomorrow." At your apprehensive look, Newt's smirk fell slowly to a gentle, encouraging smile. "It'll be fine, I'm sure. Gotta try it at least once, then ya' can do another the next day." You nod slowly, still unconvinced, and Newt removes his arm from Thomas to approach you, placing a hand on your elbow. "If you want, you can work the TrackHoes on Saturday?"

"Sure, that sounds nice," You mumbled, lowering your gaze and remembering earlier today, how some of the Sloppers had to clean out the Bloodhouse, where the Slicers worked. How you had almost been dragged along to help until Chuck came running up, insisting that he would help instead, that you should wait across the Glade until they were done. You worried about what it was you had almost witnessed, then realized you would be seeing it with your own eyes in under twenty-four hours.

You felt a squeeze on your elbow and a gentle tug and looked upward to see your little group wandering slowly over toward the picnic area. You were led along by Newt, who eventually dropped his hand once he realized you were obediently following along. Minho was poking fun at Thomas currently, something about the man being a Slicer when he first arrived to disastrous results, and couldn't help but laugh along with the group belatedly.

Dinner was delicious, of course, and you sat at the table with the rest of the Keepers and Runners, feeling almost like a civilian among celebrities with the way the rest of the Gladers would always keep an eye on the table. You tried to leave early, the undue attention raising the hairs on your arms, but with gentle encouragement from Newt and a hand on your wrist from Thomas, you stayed with the group in the end. It wasn't as if you'd regret it though, actually able to relax as the night went on, and you found yourself laughing and joking with the group as a whole.

That night held no bonfire, which was explained away by Alby: bonfire nights were only the first day of every month. You learned more of the Glade as you kept asking questions, the rest finally in an open sort of mood and willing to answer. They knew the old calendar had been a little weird with extra days in some months, or even leap years. However, in the Glade they consider one month to be 30 days. They had counted it out in the beginning, how many days between each Greenie. And back then when a Greenie had appeared every month they had decided that would be the way they counted their time in this place.

They continued to explain that now, since they had so many Gladers, they decided one day off a week for each would help give motivation to the other six days. The day each Glader came up into the Glade would be their day off, and at your confused expression, Thomas had added quietly that your day off would be on Wednesdays, like his own. You felt a weird sort of thrill at this, nodding at him. You had hoped this meant he might spend time with you then since you hardly get to see him during the day. You wondered for a small moment about being a Runner, though decided not to voice this thought aloud.

The group slowly began dispersing, some heading toward the Homestead for, you assumed, a shower. Others went straight to bed, calling their farewells. Thomas began to fidget on your left, Newt still twisting a piece of twine that had appeared in his hands not too long ago.

“So, make any new friends?” The question startles you, Thomas now gaining your full attention. New friends?

“Well, you all introduced me to-” You hesitate, motioning lazily at the lunch table that had been full of people just a bit earlier, “I mean, I thought maybe-”

“They’re all your friends, yes,” Newt quickly interjects, sending a half-hearted glare toward Thomas, who began rubbing the back of his head guiltily. “What I think he means is, any more? Besides in our little group, I guess.”

“Oh,” You breathe out, almost like a sigh. Were you supposed to? Were they beginning to feel too suffocated by you, being around so often? Hadn’t they been the ones to drag you along with them this entire time? “Well, not really.” You spoke slowly, unsure of yourself. Newt quickly nods in response, reaching the hand not currently holding twine across the table to yours. You take it hesitantly, looking between the two of them. “I mean, I haven’t really had the chance. Spent all day with Chuck, and then we all had dinner together and- well, I guess there was lunch. That blond guy had been nice-”

“Who? Ben?” Thomas was quick to ask, leaning toward you with his head tilted, curiosity evident across his face. Unbidden, it created an odd giggle to come out of you in response, rushing to answer his question to cover it up.

“Well, no. Ben’s a runner. He was out with you during lunch.” You turned to look at Newt to find him shaking his head slowly, a fond grin lighting up his face as he watched Thomas. “No, I think his name was Josh? Just some guy who was nice to me, tried to include me in the conversation whenever Chuck would get distracted.” Silence followed for a moment, and you watched some sort of emotion play across Thomas’ face that you couldn’t quite place. Newt was quick to speak up in his absence.

“Well, that’s good, right Thomas? It’s good that the glade is keeping you safe, helping you to feel welcome.”

“Oh- yeah! Of course, it’s a good thing! Why wouldn’t that be a good thing? Obviously, yeah, good. Very good thing-” Newt had to take his hand away from yours to smack Thomas’ arm, finally ceasing his rambling. Thomas cleared his throat, turning his head away from you and scanning the glade to his left. Which, really only consisted of a couple of empty tables and the giant wall of stone beyond those. Silence reigned again, though this time it felt considerably less comfortable than you’re used to with the boys. You squirmed gently in your seat before clearing your throat, though neither boy turns to look at you.

“I think I’m gonna hit the hay- uh, pad? Bed?” At this, more silence meets you, and you clear your throat once more to fill the awkwardness. “Yeah, anyway. Bye.” You quickly swing your legs over, beginning the walk to the sleeping area. Just as you were beginning to wonder how weird that interaction had been toward the end, you could’ve sworn you heard Thomas’ mumbled voice.

“So who exactly is Josh?”

≣≣≣≣≣

You must’ve been exhausted. That was the only real reason you could think of, as you wiped the sleepiness from your eyes, as to why you had slept so heavily. You remember laying down as the sun was setting, and now you’re being woken up just as the sun was rising. It was Newt’s smiling face that you saw as you were finally able to wretch your eyes open. He seemed humoured by something, though he only had eyes for you. Was it you that he was laughing at?

“How rude,” You mumbled, unsure if you were able to actually pronounce the words right. This just caused another laugh from the man kneeling in front of you, shaking his head.

“What, for waking you up? You got a job to do, Greenie.” He pulled a hand from behind his back, holding a pillow and folded blanket toward you. “Plus, would a rude person bring you the bedtime comforts that you’ve forgone for a second night, now?”

“A nice person would’ve given them to me before bed.” Your voice was slowly gaining clarity, and you reached to take the offered items, laying them down in the spot you had just rested in. Looking up, you see a sombre look on his face, and it throws you for long enough that Newt was able to speak up.

“Why hadn’t you taken it sooner then? We showed you where you could find them the first night.”

“I just didn’t-” -feel like I deserved them. Luckily, you managed to cut yourself off in time, glancing guiltily up toward Newt. His expression only furrowed further, leaning down closer toward you.

“Everything here is for us- for you. You’re here with us too, y’know?” You kept yourself from shaking your head, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place. Last night’s dreams- feelings, more accurately- slowly began unfogging in your head, and you remembered a book again. Sitting somewhere bright, and reading, and certainly nowhere near this place that you just knew you weren’t supposed to be. You were an outsider, even still. If not to the rest of the Glade, then in your own mind at the very least. You couldn’t help the feeling still, even after the full day of work in the Glade. You didn’t really belong here.

“I just,” You begin trying to explain yourself, having to look away from Newt’s earnest gaze. “I felt like maybe-”

“What’s taking so long? Slap ‘em in the face with that pillow, that’ll wake ‘em up!” You heard Minho’s voice call out from a distance, and you quickly turned to see him elbowing Thomas, who stood next to him and was pointedly not looking in your direction. “Hurry up already! I’m starvin’ and Thomas wants to wait for you!” You watched Thomas quickly elbow Minho, and the two begin bickering quietly. A sigh draws your attention back to Newt, who stands with a wince and some difficulty before reaching a hand down toward you.

“Let’s go before the man decides he’s going to die of starvation. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

You take his hand and haul yourself up, catching Newt from falling forward once you steady yourself. You glance down, one of his legs seeming a bit unbalanced. “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Newt’s voice was strained, but he straightened himself up with another wince, “Just fine.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes but began walking by your side as you made your way to the awaiting others. You tried to ignore the limp that Newt was obviously trying to minimize.

As you near the boys, Minho suddenly rushes forward, taking your arm in his and pulling you to walk faster, ahead of the group. He begins immediately telling you of your job for the day with the Slicers, mentioning that Winston was the Keeper and likely your job companion for the day. He spoke loudly, boisterous in the way he always was you were starting to realize, but you could still hear mumbling behind you. It was Thomas’ voice that you eventually made out.

“Why were you kneeling like that then? You know it’s bad on your knee.” You remembered back to when Newt woke you, and you couldn’t help the worried expression crossing your face. Why had he done that if it hurt him? You couldn’t help feeling bad, but then you felt a tug on your arm and you glanced at Minho, realizing he had fallen silent.

“It was his choice to wake you. Not your fault.” Minho was talking quietly, probably for the first time since you’d met the man, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly reassured. His voice was low, and soothing to your senses. “He’s had that for awhile, anyway. His own damned fault if he does stupid klunk like that. He knows better.”

You wanted to ask what happened, but like a lightning bolt to your brain, you remembered. Or- maybe remember wasn’t exactly the right word. You knew what had happened to him, what he had tried to do and where he had done it. You let out a heavy breath, stopping in your tracks and feeling winded. Scenes flashed before your eyes- Newt using the vines to climb the large stone walls, looking so young, younger than Chuck was currently. The jump, the fall, and how he had laid there for awhile before someone had finally found him. Before Minho found him.

You looked up, directly into Minho’s eyes in front of you, and felt your own begin to water. You sniffed loudly, your breathing having turned heavy without realizing it, and you finally recognize worry and panic in Minho’s eyes. Then you felt their presence on either side of you.

“[Y/N]? Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” You heard Thomas’ panicked voice, and you look quickly to your left, meeting Thomas’ own anxious eyes. He had his hands spread out toward you without actually meeting you, like he was unsure of himself.

“What happened?” Newt’s voice was strong, rough, and you finally looked to your right. He wasn’t looking at you, but directly at Minho with a stern expression. Seeing Newt again caused a shaky inhale, and you reached out quickly, grabbing his forearm. He looked down at your hand, then back at you with such a soft expression, you had to clench your eyes together to keep more tears from spilling. And- yeah, more tears, as you could feel the warm tracks down your cheeks currently. What had just happened?

“I-I don’t know! We were just talking, and- and then-” Minho was rambling, panicked, and you had to clear your throat before interrupting him.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” You try to reassure, but after finally opening your eyes you’re met with Newt’s disbelief. “I don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s okay. I’m better now.” You kept hold of his forearm, taking comfort in the feeling of him, reassuring yourself that he was still there with you. Newt places his own hand on yours, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, and turn to see Thomas leaning in close. You could feel your heart stutter for a moment, swallowing roughly as you look back and forth between the two men trying to show you comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Newt’s voice is soft next to you, and you finally settle your eyes on him. How would you even go about talking about this? The fact that you knew something so secret, so deep, and it had hit you like a freight train when you remembered? How would Newt even take it? How do you even know all these things in the first place?

“I don’t know how to,” You mumble, shrugging lightly and feeling disappointed when Thomas takes that as an indication to remove his arm from you. “I don’t even know what happened, really.” The three men begin nodding in response, trading glances with each other.

“Well, let’s get some food in you at least. Maybe that’s all you’ll need.” Minho smirks toward you, reaching a hand out and taking your arm, pulling you away from Thomas and Newt. He drops your arm once you start walking alongside him, and you already miss the comfort that your two favourite guys had provided.

≣≣≣≣≣

You were still shaken up about your visions from earlier, the scene repeating in your mind over and over throughout breakfast. You could barely taste your eggs, but you swallowed them down nonetheless. You avoided Newt’s worried glances as often as you were able, but Thomas’ leg was bouncing in agitation right next to yours, and you had to subtly scoot over an inch on the bench so it would stop reminding you. It didn’t work out very well, however, and with Newt’s subtle eyebrow raise, you realized it wasn’t as subtle as you would’ve liked. When Winston finally stood and looked at you, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the need to do something, anything to get this train of thought out of your head.

“Ready for a rough day’s work, Greenie?”

You practically pounced out of your seat, nodding quickly and rounding the table to walk with him. “Yes, absolutely, let’s get this over with.” Winston’s laugh was melodic and helped you to smile finally. You hoped the fact that he hadn’t been around for your little meltdown would ease your way for the rest of the day.

It had worked, mostly. Winston was a good guy, and very dedicated to his job. He loved what he did, which was evident enough, but he repeatedly had to remind you not to get attached to the animals. “They’re not pets,” He’d said multiple times throughout the day. You had spent the majority of the time with the chickens- taking their eggs for tomorrow’s breakfast, spreading their feed out and opening their coop door to let them roam the allotted, fenced-in yard. Once, another Slicer had entered the yard without much mind, causing a chicken to escape the pen. After a brief bit of stunned paralysis, Winston called out to you, “Well go get it!”

You chased the chicken, much to everyone’s enjoyment. After a particularly unsuccessful leap, and consequentially disastrous fall, you glanced up from the ground to notice a group of farmers- of TrackHoes- standing together to laugh at you. Newt was among them, chuckling with his arms crossed, but with a look in his eyes that you didn’t have enough time to interrupt before bounding up from your muddy position and chasing after the little bugger once more.

You eventually caught the chicken, with some congratulations from the rest of the Slicers. Winston’s, “I didn’t even need to send help over, you managed great,” had awoken some pride within you, and by lunch you were walking with a beaming smile on your face to meet with Fry.

“So, fieldwork or Bloodhouse?” Fry’s question shocked you, causing you to look up to meet his wicked gaze. He was currently handing the tray over to you, as was customary so far, but this was the first time he had spoken to you since you first met.

“Oh- fieldwork, I guess? I was with the chickens-” Frypan’s laugh cut you off, his voice boisterous.

“Right! I had heard about the prank! Typical Greenie stuff, y’know? Wish I could’ve been there to see it.” His smile was contagious, but a certain part of your chest shrivelled to know that it had been done to you on purpose.

“Right, well, enjoy those eggs I gathered for you. I think breakfast will taste even better than usual tomorrow.” Frypan’s laugh echoed through his kitchen as you began to walk away, glancing through the gathered tables and wondering where you should sit. The rest of the Slicers were behind you, since you had been first in the line of the group, and you remembered yesterday when you had sat with your job group at lunch. You had just locked eyes with Newt when someone spoke up to your right, startling you.

“I know you’re probably averse to the smell by now,” You glanced over, meeting eyes with the friendly boy from yesterday, Josh, “But it’s my day off today so I probably don’t smell like klunk right now, if you want to eat together?” His smile was bright, matching his light blue eyes. At your silence, he quickly added, “I’m not sitting with the other Sloppers today either. Well, except for Chuck. But it’s his day off too.” His shrug brought a small smile to your face, and you nodded to him.

He placed a hand on your elbow and gently guided you to the edge of the tables, finally releasing you as he sat across from Chuck. You smiled at the boy as you took your seat next to Josh, laughing at Chuck’s excitement for you to be joining them for lunch. He immediately dove into a story about his day, Josh remaining silent but pleasant next to you. You were glad for Chuck’s almost constant dialogue, as it didn’t prompt you to engage more than you volunteered, and it kept your mind busy enough.

“So,” At this Chuck finally paused, gaining your attention at the shift in the atmosphere, “I had heard they did the whole ‘chicken chase’ today?” You could see Chuck was scanning your face, trying to glean some insight into your feelings. You tried your best to put what Fry had told you out of your head, pasting a smile on your face. Chuck, unable to know any better, grinned along with you.

“Yeah! Winston said I did great catching it! All by myself, didn’t need to send anyone over.”

“After that massive fall though,” A familiar accented voice added playfully, and you looked behind you to see Newt holding a tray with his half-eaten lunch on top. As he placed his tray to the side Josh wasn’t on, he sat sideways on the bench, facing you. “Lucky that dirt didn’t stick.” He reached out anyway, brushing a stray clump off of your shoulder with a kind smile. You had expected the flashes of visions to return once more, but thankfully they had stayed away, and all you were left with was Newt’s attractive face focused on you. You hoped the heat you felt on your cheeks was from sunburn, or something similar, and that you weren’t already blushing at having Newt’s full attention.

“I heard it happens often,” You lied, dropping your gaze down to your plate with a small smile, half pleased that Newt had joined you, and half stung from the prank revelation. “Y’know, tripping and making a fool of yourself during the ‘typical Greenie prank.’”

You felt more than seen Josh tense beside you, and you lifted your eyes slowly to notice Chuck’s fallen expression. You refused to look toward Newt during this, remembering his laughter earlier and wondering if he was somehow in on it. It was Chuck who had finally broken the silence.

“I would’ve helped, y’know? If I hadn’t been- well, preoccupied.” He shrugged, playing with his empty tray. You felt your smile grow, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Mhm, and what, praytell, was this preoccupation you had? Josh told me it was your day off.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know a Keeper’s job is never finished!”

“He was sleeping,” Josh muttered to you, startling a laugh out of you. Chuck blushed visibly, shrugging.

“I mean, who could deny a good nap?”

“But you still managed to get up in time for lunch?” Josh added on helpfully, finishing the last few bites of his own.

“Three meals a day, Josh! What's the point if not?” Chuck’s exclaimed, your mind instantly rushing back to the first day you arrived, and you catch Thomas’ exact phrasing. You wonder how much time he spends with Thomas if he’s quoting him directly like that. Hearing Newt chuckle to your side, you wonder if he noticed the same thing.

“True enough, my friend,” Josh exclaims before yawning, stretching in an obvious way. “Although, after my busy morning and with lunch out of the way, I think I’m ready for an afternoon nap.”

“Oh!” Chuck gasps, grinning toward Josh, “I’ll join you! Let’s go!” They both stand, Chuck a bit bouncier than his counterpart, and begin making their way toward the kitchen to drop their trays off. It’s silent between you and Newt for a moment, and you take another bite of your lunch, close to finishing it off yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispered, gathering your attention. You turned to meet his eyes, and realize he hadn’t turned away from you this whole time, still facing you on the bench. His eyes were sad though, and he was almost sporting a pout on his lips. “I would’ve told them otherwise if I had thought about it. Especially after your rough morning-”

“Don’t worry about it!” You’re quick to cut him off, pasting on a smile once more. It hurt your chest, just slightly, to use a poker face with Newt. You knew already that you wanted to be honest with him. “It’s fine, really. Everyone gets the treatment, I’m sure. I’m the newbie, the odd one out.”

“You’re not though,” Newt immediately replies, a furrow on his brow, “An odd one out? Not to me anyway. And not to Tommy.” You tilt your head, considering this, before asking the first thought that came to your mind.

“Why do you call him Tommy?” Newt was understandably startled at the change of subject, looking down toward his lunch with just the hint of a blush lighting his cheeks.

“Hm? Well, it’s a nickname, you see. That’s this name that people give you-”

“That you gave him,” You interrupted, your smile growing, turning real once more. “I haven’t heard anyone else call him that.” Newt just shrugs in response, and you couldn’t hold back a laugh. You notice the slight pout come back to Newt’s lips, and you shake your head, turning in your seat to face him. “So, anyway, who exactly is Josh?” You could see Newt’s confusion clear as day as he turns to face you again.

“What? We were just eating lunch with him.” You roll your eyes, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“I meant, what did you tell Tommy last night? When he asked?” It took a moment for Newt to process this question before he abruptly laughs, shaking his head fondly.

“I told him the truth,” He smirks at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, “He’s Chuckie’s crush.” You gasp in response, your grin widening as you lean forward.

“No! Really?” Newt only nodded in response, tearing a piece of meat off of his lunch and placing the small bite in his mouth. You look up toward the sky, wracking your brain to try and remember any indication of this new revelation from yesterday when you worked with the pair. Chuck did seem to glance up at Josh a lot when they worked the fertilizer together- though, not a very romantic setting, you could admit. “Crazy. I never would’ve guessed.”

“You haven’t been here even a week yet. Give it time, you’ll be able to point out everyone’s infatuations.” Newt chuckled lightly, and as you lowered your gaze back to him, you noticed the soft look in his eye was back.

“So what about you?” At Newt’s question-mark of an expression, you barreled on, “Who’s your crush?”

Newt immediately shook his head, mumbling an “Irrelevant,” quietly and directing his attention to his food once more, raising a hand to pull at his earlobe. You laugh lightly, your smile beginning to hurt your cheeks. He was cute like this, you noticed. Blushing, soft, and slightly awkward. And it seemed like it should be weird; you’ve been here almost three days now and yet you felt like you knew him so intimately already. It felt like-

“[Y/N]!” You turn your head, noticing Winston already standing a few feet away from the dining area. “Back to work, let’s go! Can’t spend all day chatting with Newt!” You notice another Slicer say something to Winston, both laughing and cracking up with each other. You instead turn your attention back to Newt, who looked slightly disappointed.

“Well, that’s me I guess. This was fun though, I’m glad I got to spend lunch with you. Part of it, anyway.” It’s instinctual, leaning over and giving Newt a hug. He felt warm against you, his shirt sun-soaked from working the fields all day. Newt turns stiff at first, long enough for you to begin to regret your sudden action, but just as you’re about to pull away he raises his arms and wraps them around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His grip isn’t tight, but it’s extremely comforting in a way that you didn’t realize you needed. It soothed the wound left open from this morning, and breathing in his earthy scent almost closed it entirely.

The hug felt simultaneously too long and yet not long enough before you finally pull back, feeling the heat on your cheeks once more. You pick up your tray, standing from your seat and smiling down at him. “Find me after work? Maybe we can think up our own prank?” And with Newt’s encouraging smile, you began your trek to take your tray back and resume your responsibilities.

≣≣≣≣≣

You realized a tad too late that Winston was leading you to the building in the middle of the pens- the Bloodhouse. Apprehension filled you, however, you felt obligated to follow along. Winston was ranting on about some sort of story, involving the pigs if you remembered correctly, but your mind was already running with scenarios, trying to prepare yourself for whatever you would witness stepping inside the building. Winston pushed the door open and entered easily, and you followed cautiously behind him, casting one last glance at the open air of the Glade before stepping inside.

Now, let’s be honest here, when you pictured the ‘Bloodhouse,’ you had pictured blood covering the floor, dripping from the walls, and perhaps meat hooks with carcasses hanging from them. You were instead greeted by a singular, large room. It was clean, almost extremely so. Tanning racks lined one wall, and there were a few hooks hanging from the ceiling, though thankfully empty. A large table was situated in the middle of the room, with a block sitting atop on the right-hand side, handles of knives sticking out of it. You finally looked back to Winston, who had stopped talking and was now just studying you. You felt your shoulders relax, and the man nodded to himself with a pleased expression.

“Alright, wait here. Gotta go grab dinner.” You tilted your head, confused at the wording considering you just left lunch. You did wait though, and as Winston left out a side door, you began to wander through the room, dragging your hand across the leather stretched and strung up between a rack. A loud squawk caught your attention, and you turned to see Winston walking back inside, holding a chicken by the neck. “It’s Friday!”

“Friday?” You reply, confused as Winston rounds the table once more, lining up at the front and laying the chicken down atop.

“Yep! Friday is chicken day.” What happened next seemed so fluid, and you knew it happened in almost an instant but time seemed too slow for you. Winston took hold of a large handle jutting from the wooden block on the table, sliding the giant knife out. With ease and familiarity with the action, he heaved the knife downward, slicing through the neck of the chicken and cutting its entire head off. The last squawk from the chicken burned through your ears, and you felt yourself choke, raising a hand to cover your mouth.

Sure, you knew that whatever meat you had been eating had come from animals. You knew they had to die to be harvested, and eaten. And if you really thought about it, the fact this was called the ‘Bloodhouse’ and was situated between the two animals' pens should’ve given you some type of clue. A clue you didn’t need, you remembered being hesitant as you entered the building. But none of this knowledge prepared you for the surprise of watching a life being taken before your very own eyes.

Before you even realized you were doing in, you had already left the building and began running. You didn’t exactly have a destination in mind, but you just knew you couldn’t stay in that place. You already felt your lunch coming back up at the sight and didn’t want to upchuck in front of the entire Glade. You finally slowed as you reached the trees of the Deadheads, reaching a hand out toward the tree and resting your weight against it, breathing in and out deeply through your mouth in hope that the nausea would fade.

There was a building to your right, with a group of Gladers standing around outside of it. After a cursory glance, you recognized two of them right away: Gally and Ben. After locking eyes with them, you notice Gally say something to the group before both of them began making their way toward you.

“Slicer not for you, huh?” It was Gally who asked, and you could only nod in response as you drew in another breath through your mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s not for everyone,” Ben insisted, finally closing the distance and stretching a hand out to rub your back. Gally stood a few feet away, arms crossed with an almost stern expression. Or maybe that was just how his face rests.

“I just- I didn’t expect-”

“What, that the Bloodhouse would be filled with blood?”

“Gally,” Ben reprimanded, and the man in response deigned to look sheepish, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “It’s okay. It took me by surprise, too. I knew what was going to happen, but seeing it- that’s a different thing altogether.” You could only nod in response, lifting your gaze to finally meet Ben’s.

“I thought you were a Runner?” The statement caused a surprised huff of a laugh from him, and he finally took a step back. Gally, instead, took a step forward, a smirk lighting up his features.

“He is, and a brilliant one at that. But he likes to spend his time with me on his day off.” With the way Gally slings an arm around Ben, and the easy way they move with each other, you could see there was something between them. You couldn’t help but smile, looking between the two happy men. You replied with a light, ‘Oh,’ just as Gally began speaking again. “Actually, since you’re good on the Slicers, why don’t you come over and learn the basics of building? I can show you what a nail is.”

“I know what a nail is, you-” You pause, unsure what you were trying to say, until Ben pipes in helpfully.

“Shank. The word you’re looking for is shank.” Gally then turns a playful glare at his boyfriend, poking him in the side and causing the man to jump away, laughing.

“Teaching the Greenie to call me names? Not a very good partner you are.” His mumbles were half-hearted at best, his smile warring with his words already. You inhaled one more deep breath, and then followed Gally back to the Builder’s hut to hopefully enjoy the rest of your day.