(A/N)

Hello! Well, here is another Maze Runner fan fiction because my work never seems to be done. This time, I will be writing Newtmas, and I regret nothing. I'm still unsure of the length, it won't be terribly long it could be a one-shot or a few chapters. I'll just have to see where this mind of mine takes me. I have finally finished the trilogy a few days ago. It took me about two weeks to read all three, I read the death cure in a day somehow, and managed to sob for at least ten minutes when Newt died. (Update, I read the Fever Code in a day as well. No regrets.) I love writing for the thrill, and partially because I refuse closure that he's dead; because he's not. Okay so I may need counseling, but that's besides the point. Enjoy this short story and don't forget comments, I need something to write. I love feedback, its what keeps me going. I love you all!

"I still don't get why you made him second in command, Alby."

Gally crossed his arms, glaring at Newt. Newt did his best to ignore it, seemings the topic came up every other gathering.

"Gally, we both know why he is, so why don't you just slim it for once?" Alby retorted. Gally narrowed his eyes.

"Why? Because poor limpy over here is useless for anything else?"

Newt bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to scream at Gally or run out of the room. That comment stung. Newt watched as Alby stood up angrily.

"Gally I think its about time you leave" He said, looking as though he would blow any second.

"Everyone knows its true, Alby!"

Newt crossed his arms. He hated this, both of them arguing like that, especially over that topic. He tried to not overthink what Gally said. Being in the middle like this, he hated more than Gally hated him. Alby always backed him up, but it put Newt in such an awkward position sitting by while they argue.

"What do you have to say? Huh? Have something to say?" Gally taunted, walking over to Newt.

"Gally I swear I will banish you right here and now!" Alby yelled. Gally ignored him, walking closer to Newt.

Newt bit his cheek harder, trying to control his anger. He was usually calm, but he had his exceptions. He glared back at Gally. Gally was close now, wearing an ugly smirk on his face. Newt slowly stood up, facing him.

"You gonna say anything, or just keep staring?"

At that moment whatever held Newt back broke as he rushed forward, punching Gally square in the face. Everyone yelled as Newt threw himself on top of him, ready to beat the living crap out of Gally when arms grabbed him from behind.

"Newt! Newt calm down!"

Newt thrashed for a second, still wanting to pummel the other Glader. Alby kept his grip on his until he calmed down. He watched in hate as Gally stood up, hand on his bleeding nose, his face a mix of shock and anger. Newt stopped fighting and stood, breathing heavily. Alby let go, his focus still on Gally.

"Gally, leave now."

"He was the one who punched-!"

"Leave!" Alby yelled, causing the other boy to mumble something and walk out of the room. He turned his attention back to Newt.

"I think you should go calm down, Newt."

Newt looked at Alby then back at the door, his mind swimming with activity. Did that just really happen? Without another word he walked out the other door. He walked across the Glade, trying to not think about what Gally had said. He reached the edge of the woods, it was evening, the sun just starting to set, showing a brilliant display of colors in the sky. He walked in, all the light of day slowly disappearing as he passed deeper in. He carefully stepped over rocks and logs, trying to clear his mind. The smell of wet mud filled the air, along with rotting wood. He had been here countless times, it was really the only place he went to have alone time. Being around so many people day in day out was enough to drive a man insane. Newt looked down at his hands as he walked, Gally's blood on his knuckles. Yeah, he was definitely in trouble for punching somebody like that, but it wasn't like it would do anything to his already ill-shaped nose. He looked back up as he neared the certain place he sat. It was just a big rock near the small creek, but it was enough. To his surprise, there were footprints around the rock.

Looks like I'm not the only person who comes here to cool off He thought, a bit surprised.

He took a closer look at the footprints. Everyone wore the same shoes most the time, picking out who it was based on tracks wasn't hard, but these looked foreign.

Must be the Greenie.

He sat down, one leg pulled up to his chest the other dangling off the edge, swinging. The runners had come back just a little while ago, the Maze was closed. A soft breeze blew through the woods causing the rustle of tree leaves, the only thing making a sounds besides the gentle flow of the stream. He sat for a while in silence, almost entirely forgetting about the earlier argument. He cleared his thoughts, only focusing on the sounds and smells around him. It was like a form of meditation almost, just him and the woods. The woods, and him. Nobody else. He opened an eye as movement next to him interrupted his peace. He had to chuckle when it was Beetle Blade. Those things really did get on his nerves, always turning up. He reached down next to him and chucked a rock at it.

"Get outta here!"

The small machine scuttled backwards into the bush, disappearing. Newt relaxed again, glad it was gone. His mind subconsciously went back to the fight earlier now, then flickered between the new boy, Thomas and whether Newt would be locked up for punching Gally. He found himself mostly thinking about the Greenie, oddly. He had only been here a few short days, yet he felt so close to him, like they had been friends forever. He really liked him, mostly as a friend, but there were times it felt like something a little more. When he opened his eyes again, the sky had darkened tremendously, stars already coming out, shimmering against the dark navy sky. Must've most track of time. He sat back up, deciding he should go back in case he had been gone a bit longer than he should have. He hopped off the rock, taking on last moment to enjoy his solitude then started heading back down the trail, the way he came. Beetle Blades scampered like field mice in the shrubbery, an occasional clank of metal on metal as the hit each other. Newt ignored them, looking out to the creek which was slowly branching away from him. He stopped for a moment, then veered off the path, trying to buy another fifteen minutes by himself. The ground went at a steady incline, Newt knew that not far up ahead there was a steep drop off. It was the highest point of the Glade. He trudged along, his feet carrying him higher up the hill with every step. The wind picked up, his hair being tousled in the wind. He finally made it to the top, sitting down accomplished, he enjoyed the view until a thought came to mind. Alby would have a fit if Newt didn't show up soon. Its sounded petty, that someone would be mad if he didn't tell people where he was or what he was doing, but he had his reasons. Sometimes Newt could be a bit spontaneous, wandering wherever he felt without telling anyone. He recalled one time Alby almost had a heart attack when Newt had walked around the Glade for a few hours at night and came back when everyone was asleep, except Alby, who had went looking for him. Newt stood up again, slightly disappointed his little venture was over, but there was always tomorrow, and every day after that for that matter. He went to turn away from the hill when his ankle turned awkwardly on the wet ground.

Then he fell.

His body hit the side of the hill hard, then broke into a tumble. He cried out as his head connected with something hard and sharp, causing his head to spin. He felt like he had been sprawling down the hill forever, rocks jabbing into him every other second, and at one point hitting a small tree. He tried stopping, but that only resulted in failure. He coped until he finally stopped, his body wet and covered in mud and gashes and bruises. He could feel them. He had stopped in a shallow part of the stream, cold water running past him. He grunted as he attempted to push himself off his stomach with his hands but they slipped out from under him, causing his head to hit the little bit of ice-cold water underneath him. He barely registered the blood trickling down the side of his head compared to the sharp pains coming from his lame foot. He tried moving it but it only caused another wave of pain to shoot up his leg.

"This isn't bloody happening" He breathed, already feeling weakness overcome him. He lifted his head a bit, there had to be a way to get back to the Glade.

"Help! Anyone!" He yelled, not as loud as he hoped.

He slowly sat his head back down, exhaustion sweeping over him. In a last feeble attempt, he had managed to sit up and slide to a nearby tree, using all his energy. He slumped against it, resting his head against the rough bark while carefully holding his re-injured leg.

What a great day. He thought bitterly. Nobody will probably even come looking for me.

Thomas

Thomas sat straight up upon hearing a strangled yell come from the woods, he wished he could say it woke him up, but he had been wide awake without a trace of tiredness. He looked around, nobody else appearing to have heard it. He had nearly been asleep when he did. A part of his heart sank when he realized he hadn't seen Newt since he had got back. He slowly stood up, careful not to make much noise and disturb Chuck, who was sleeping close by. Part of his was saying it was just his imagination, but another beckoned him out into the night. He started towards where the cries had come from. It was pitch black besides the steady glow of the moonlight on the glade. He reached the woods, then the light was cut out almost completely with an exception for a few beams reaching through the branches. The ghostliness creeped him out a bit, but he knew that there weren't supposed to be anything dangerous out in the Glade.

Well that's what they told him anyway.

He stumbled over some tree logs and rocks, but never fell. He strained to hear what had made the noise, any sort of noise. A rustle, a cry, anything. He stopped, standing perfectly still. He decided to call out.

"Hello?! Is someone out here?!"

He waited, then heard a distant reply.

"H-help!"

Thomas's insides froze. He recognized the voice anywhere. It was Newt. His reflexes kicked in and he sprinted towards where he had heard the voice. Bats flew inside him thinking about what might've happened to his friend. He felt odd admitting it, but he had grown to care a lot about the blonde. He slowed when he heard heavy, strained breaths, almost gasps. He pinpointed the location then went over, careful not to stumble over him.

"Newt?"

"T-Tommy?" Newt said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas kneeled down, moonlight casted itself on Newt, showing his pained and tired face, smears of blood with a mix of mud covering it. He was clutching his leg and his body was also covered in blood.

"What happened?" He asked. He really hoped it wasn't an animal.

"I fell" He replied dully.

Thomas sat dazed for a moment before coming back to reality. He turned around, a large hill towering behind them. He could clearly see where he was fallen. Without another word he decided he would just carry him back. He looked back down, Newts eyelids were drooping a bit, he reached down, carefully placing a hand under his uninjured leg and arm and lifting him up.

"What are you-?" He asked, weakly.

Thomas shifted until he had a good grip on the boy. His head was barely up. He staggered a bit, then regained himself and began walking, Newt laying, now limp in his arms. His head had rolled over, resting against Thomas's chest, his eyes practically closed at that point . Thomas had to smile at how adorable he looked, but quickly remembered he was still hurt. He carefully maneuvered through the woods, not wanting to trip. His heart lifted when he reached the Glade. He picked up the pace, even though his legs were nearly killing him by this point. He neared the Homestead.

"Hey! Hey we need some help out here!" He yelled, hoping people inside would hear him.

He sighed in relief as Alby ran outside, Minho next to him. Minho looked bedraggled but Alby looked as though he hadn't been sleeping at all.

"What-? What happened?!" He exclaimed upon seeing Newt in his arms.

He turned, yelling into the homestead.

"We need Med-jacks!"

After a moment, two dazed and groggy Med-jacks stumbled out of the building. Thomas carefully set Newt down on the grass, Newt groaning quietly, still unconscious. Thomas watched as the took Newt away on a home-made stretcher into the building and Minho going back to the homestead to sleep. He stood awkwardly outside with Alby, giving the other boys room to work.

"What happened to him?" Alby asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I-uh, I heard somebody yell from the woods so I went and found him. He said he had fallen down that steep hill."

Alby stood in what looked like a very deep thought, hand on his chin.

"Are you sure he fell?"

"Yeah." Thomas replied, slightly confused. What else would've happened?

That was the only conversation they had before the two med jacks came out a few minutes later.

"So?" Alby asked.

"Re-broke his leg and had a pretty good head wound, that's pretty much it besides some small cuts and bruises."

"Will he be able to walk again?"

"Maybe. It will be a while though."

Maybe.

The word buzzed through Thomas's head like a fly. Newt might never walk again?

Alby walked back into the homestead, obviously not pleased with the diagnosis. Thomas trudged back to his sleeping corner, so many thoughts about Newt going through his head. There was a lot he didn't know about him, like how he broke his foot the first time for instance. He layed, pondering topic after topic until, eventually, he fell asleep.

Thomas was sitting at a desk in a room in front of a large display. It wasn't really him, it was dream, memory, whatever you call it Thomas. On the display he saw Newt, walking through the Glade, his expression showing a deep sadness that made Thomas's heart ache. He couldn't help but notice there was no limp. Other Gladers waved at him, but he wasn't even paying attention, he just kept walking. He had the runners vest on him, which looked a lot like the one Thomas wore. He kept forgetting Newt had been a runner. Newt kept his gaze on the tall walls of the maze, until he had reached it. He stood for a moment, almost hesitant, then walked in.

Is this how he got his limp? He thought.

Newt turned around corner after corner until reaching a wall, strands of ivy hanging down like a sheet. Thomas saw him climb it, going up a pretty good height with ease. A million thoughts went through his head. He hoped this wasn't what he thought it was. Newt had stopped climbing and was looking toward the ground, the expression on his face made Thomas actually want to cry. He looked to the camera, and said,

"I don't know who you people are, but I hope your happy. I hope you get a real buggin' kick out of watching us suffer. And then you can die and go to hell. This is on you."

Then he jumped.

He went off screen for a moment, Thomas only hearing the painful noise of Newt hitting the ground, then it shifted back to him. Newt was clutching his leg, just like in the woods earlier. He groaned, in obvious excruciating pain for a while until eventually he began crying, sob after sob. Thomas never seen Newt cry, he was always so calm. Newt layed, sobbing until he screamed

"I hate you! I hate you!"

Into the air, the sound bouncing off the walls of the Maze. Dream Thomas turned off the monitor, leaving Real Thomas in shock. A few things came back to him in clarity, Newt had been a runner, Alby had saved him, dragging him back to the maze.

I can't believe I didn't know. Thomas thought sadly.

I never knew you had hurt that way.

Newt

Newt opened his eyes a bit, the dim light of day breaking through the windows. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his leg and his throbbing headache.

Oh god his leg.

He looked down, his leg was in a splint. Again.

It definitely brought memories back. Would he be able to walk again? What if he couldn't? Then what? Newt sat up a bit, trying to ignore the pain in his head. He looked over as he heard soft snoring next to him. To his surprise Thomas was in the chair next to his bed, sound asleep. Newt smiled upon seeing him, happy he was there. He looked down at his arms, small cuts spread over them and his body as a whole was pretty sore. He leaned his head back, just resting his eyes until he heard Thomas shifting next to him.

"Newt?" He asked groggily. "Are you awake?"

Newt chuckled.

"Yeah."

Thomas opened his eyes a bit and smiled back at him.

"How are ya feeling?"

"Not dead."

Thomas laughed a bit, sitting up. Newt noticed his laugh faded, a more solemn look coming across him.

"Hey, you okay there, Tommy?"

Thomas looked at Newt with sad eyes.

"I remembered." He said quietly.

Newt looked at him, confused. "What?"

Newt knew Thomas had been remembering some things, and Teresa and had said he worked with them, so what he remembered was beyond him.

Thomas looked over to the other side of the room distantly.

"I watched you do it."

Newt stopped breathing for a moment.

"I saw you jump."

Thomas said said it so plainly. No sugarcoating it. A million questions ran through Newts mind. Thomas continued.

"When I worked for them, I saw you, on a screen. You climbed really far up, then jumped. I saw you laying there in pain, I couldn't do anything."

Newt shook his head in disbelief, barely registering what he was hearing from the other boy.

"There's no way you could've seen it- I-I..."

"You looked at the camera, and blamed them before jumping."

Newt stopped.

No way.

Nobody could've heard that.

Only them.

Newts eyes widened, it was true. He was there. A tear fell from the corner of his eye before he could catch it.

"I-I was just so tired of being here." Newt confessed. "I didn't think there was any other way out."

Another tear fell, then another.

"I just couldn't take it" He sobbed, burying his head in his hands. He felt the bed sink a bit as Thomas sat next to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Hey hey, Its okay. I'm right here," He said softly.

Newt continued to cry as Thomas sat next to him, comforting him. Eventually Newt had layed back, down from tired from his outburst and his head starting to hurt even more. Thomas layed right next to him. He closed his eyes, his face still wet with tears.

"I'm sorry." He said after a while, slightly embarrassed that he cried right in front of Thomas

"There's nothing to apologize for." Thomas said. Leaning other and gently kissing Newts forehead.

"Thanks Tommy" Newt whispered

Newt shifted closer to Thomas, he reached around Newt, pulling him closer. His legs had ended up tangled with his Newts. Newt leaned into him, pressing his forehead into his neck, wishing they could stay like this forever.

"Anything for you." Thomas whispered back.

Newt smiled again, slowly but surely falling asleep in Thomas's arms.

(A/N)

Wow this turned out pretty nice! I did kinda use the part when Newt jumped from The Fever Code, but not word by word obviously. I felt this needed to be written, so I wrote it. Please please comment, nobody ever does! I don't understand! Oh well... I really hope you liked it! Thanks!

I want to start a little list of One-shots. Comment some prompts, made up or Tumblr, and I will write them. I may add a few that I just make up. Well. I think that's it. I will see all you lovely people later!

~S

Summary:

Newt was pushed a lot, but rarely fell.

Well not literally anyways.

It wouldn't be the first time he found himself alone like this. Holding his broken leg and covered in blood.

Thomas had no memories or an idea on how Newt got his limp in the first place, but that was far from his mind when he found the boy leaned against a tree, badly hurt right next to a steep edge. It wasn't until after he realized that wasn't the first time he'd seen Newt like that.

(Two times Thomas saw Newt badly hurt and the one time he was able to be there with him.)

SPOILERS! You have been freaking warned!