A/N: Okay, sooo...I'm mostly just doing this for my friends, but also because I ship Minho and Thomas so freaking hard! I don't know if this will be good or not, but I'm definitely gonna continue it! It'll have 3-5 chapters at most.

Also, this starts off and takes place when Minho and Thomas go to section 7. Some things are similar to the actual story, but I changed most of it.

Enjoy, you guys! :D

"Big day, Greenie. Sure you don't wanna sit it out?"

Thomas looked up from the ground of the pit to lock eyes with a smirking Minho, and was unable to hold back a smile. "Just get me out of here, man."

As soon as they'd packed up and gotten ready, they made their way to stand in front of the gate. "Having second thoughts?" asked the Asian male, the smirk never leaving his face.

"No way," Thomas replied instantly, though he couldn't deny the fact that his hands were slightly trembling. It was probably from the excitement he was feeling, or the rush of adrenaline through his veins at the mere thought of entering the maze again. He narrowed his eyes once the passageway began to open, sending a large, powerful gust of wind in their direction.

"Let's go!" exclaimed the boy beside him, taking off in a sudden sprint.

The brunet almost yelled at him to wait up, but thought better of it as he began running right after the boy, following his every step as he effortlessly maneuvered through the maze. Thomas remembered Minho telling him about how he'd run every inch of it, how he'd made a miniature model of the entire damn thing. It was amazing how he'd seen everything.

Maybe that was why Minho was one of the top runners. All the other boys back at the Glade seemed to respect him. They were scared - they counted on him and the rest of the runners to scour the maze every day, to search for an exit, to find the path to freedom. But how could they dump all that responsibility, all that faith, all that trust, onto just a small group of boys? Who's to say they wouldn't have escaped the maze themselves, had they ever found a way out? Gally was right, in a sense. If the Gladers couldn't trust each other, then they had nothing left. Teamwork was what kept everyone together.

Thomas couldn't help but think about how built Minho was, considering he was able to run all day without breaking so much as a sweat. But maybe that was because his body had been forced to get used to it; he'd been running for over a year, after all, and his life depended on it. In terms of how a runner should be, he fit the criterion just about perfectly. He had the ideal frame, the strong legs, and the flawless posture. His shoulders were relaxed as he ran, the rest of his body moving in precise coordination with his legs.

"Hey, Greenie!" called Minho's voice all of a sudden, making Thomas snap back into reality to find the former running backwards, facing him with a somewhat curious expression. "You alright there?"

Thomas felt his face heat up, but chose to ignore it and continued to run, adding a bit more speed to his legs. "Fine," he mumbled, running ahead of Minho, who caught up to him in just a matter of seconds anyway.

"Sure you're okay? Too late to back out now, though."

"I'm not backing out from this," stated Thomas firmly, being as confident as he was. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to be distracted from his goal any further.

"Glad to see you so enthusiastic."

The brunet ignored that comment and continued onwards, not once letting their destination escape his mind. Section 7. It was sure to be hiding some kind of big secret to getting out of the Glade, out of the maze, and he was determined to find it. He wasn't just going to sit back and let himself be trapped like a prisoner. Once he'd escape, he would search for W.C.K.D. and wipe them out.

"It's not supposed to be open today…," murmured the black-haired male, as the two of them stepped foot into section 7. There were exceedingly tall structures - known as blades - everywhere as far as the eye could see, practically reaching the height of the outer maze walls. The two boys were lost and confused, unsure of where to go, until there was a faint beeping noise.

Thomas heard it first, and recognized the source as the Griever's body part they'd managed to pull out the other day. He grabbed Minho by the shoulder and twisted him around, before fishing it out from his bag, eyes widening in awe at the device. "I think it's showing us where to go," he whispered, suddenly taking off into a random direction. And just like that, the two boys made their way through the endless land of blades, until they came upon a large passageway which seemed to open up into another one inside of it.

"You ever been here before?" asked Thomas, looking up at the ceiling as he walked in.

"Never," replied Minho bluntly, following in after him.

Thomas practically groaned in disappointment as they came to a dead end, but just when he was about to turn around, the red light on the Griever's device turned green, and the wall in front of him began to open up, revealing a path inside. The two boys exchanged momentary looks of skepticism, when a red light scanned them out of nowhere and a deafening alarm sounded right after, causing them to gape at the opening in shock. Thomas turned to Minho in hopes of receiving an explanation as to what was going on, but the latter simply snatched the Griever's device and made a run for it.

"Run, Greenie!"

Thomas didn't need to be told twice. His legs carried him forward as the maze exploded and roared, along with his heartbeat. The walls around them began to crumble, sending pieces of rock and debris into the air, before raining down like an irrepressible storm.

"The blades are closing! We're gonna be trapped!" Somehow in all of the commotion and destruction, Minho had managed to make it to the outer border of the blades.

Panic swept over the brunet, bringing along with it morose thoughts. He was so concentrated on the idea of what might happen should he be trapped inside, that - even while running with a large amount of vigor - he was unsure which direction he was headed in. He hadn't even noticed that his foot connected with an elevated, jagged surface until he was unexpectedly sent spiraling into the air and landed roughly against the ground with a sickening thud.

"Thomas!" bellowed a voice from far away, so worried and desperate, enticing the brunet to raise his head.

To both Thomas' dismay and immense relief, Minho had slipped back through the last blade into the inner border, just as it was about to close and separate the two boys. The maze fell into a state of complete and utter silence, having trapped its victims within.

Thomas stared up at the blades in disbelief, before trying to glance down at his ankle, which sent shockwaves of pain throughout his body when he tried to move it. With the way he'd crashed onto the floor head-first, he was pretty sure he'd cracked a part of his skull. Not to mention, he could feel something warm and sticky dripping down the left side of his forehead.

"Greenie, you okay?"

Honestly, did he look okay? Lying down stomach-first on the cold and hard ground, unable to move? Thomas' head snapped up in the direction of the voice, anger suddenly taking over his emotions. "Why the hell didn't you leave? You could've escaped!"

Minho gave a low and throaty chuckle, before crouching down beside the brunet. "I couldn't leave you behind," he stated firmly, his face void of emotion. "Besides, look at the state of you. You'd practically be serving yourself to the Grievers on a silver platter."

"And now you'll be serving yourself alongside me."

The Asian male merely sighed and rolled the brunet over onto his back as he groaned in evident pain. He pulled the latter up into a sitting position and hooked an arm underneath each of his armpits, before dragging him toward the blades, allowing him to rest his back against one. "Did you get hurt somewhere either than your head?" asked Minho, removing his bag and extracting a cloth and water bottle from it. He unscrewed the bottle cap and wet the cloth slightly, before using it to dab at the blood on the brunet's forehead.

Thomas hissed in pain and reflexively turned his face away, gritting his teeth.

Minho closed his eyes for a bit as he continued dabbing, before reopening them. "Where else are you injured?"

"Twisted my right ankle, I think," muttered Thomas, motioning to it as it started to turn a strange shade of purple. He attempted to pull his leg up to his chest, but gave up halfway, letting it fall back down and crying out in anguish. "Okay, it's definitely twisted."

"Shit, Greenie. You hurt yourself pretty bad." The brunet ignored him and tried to get up, but Minho grabbed onto his arms and held him down. "You're not going anywhere."

"Damn it, Minho. We need to find a way out of here!"

The black-haired male got in front of him in a crouched position, grasping onto his shoulders and staring him hard in the eye. "There is no way out of here. This is section 7, alright? Not a goddamn playground."

Thomas couldn't accept that. "So, what, we just sit here forever?"

"No, but we'll have to stay here overnight. We can't climb over the blades."

"But what if we tried to- -"

"Slim it, Greenie!" Minho interjected, his hold on the other male tightening. "For the sake of argument, let's say we did climb to the top of the blades - which is impossible any way you look at it - but let's say we did, okay? Then what? We jump and fall down to our shucking deaths? Those things have to be taller than at least 50 meters."

Thomas frowned deeply, knowing that his fellow runner's point was damn right and wholly logical. It made him feel frustrated and helpless. How could they survive a night out here, exposed to the Grievers and bitter winds? What if Thomas' wounds got infected? What if they were stuck here for more than just one night? What if they starved to death?

"We're gonna be okay, Greenbean."

Thomas snapped out of his morbid thoughts to glance up at Minho, who was looking back at him with a certain determination in his eyes. The latter gave a smirk, that same annoying and cocky smirk he always wore. "What? Don't look at me like that, you creep," teased Thomas, feeling just slightly better.

"Sometimes you're such a klunk," retorted Minho, tilting his head to the side as he ran a hand through his hair. He sounded vaguely irritated, but the grin never left his face. He glanced down at Thomas' ankle, grimacing at the sight of it. "We should take care of that," he muttered, grabbing another cloth from his bag, before carefully wrapping it around the brunet's ankle, then placing a bundled up cloth underneath it for support. He looked up at the latter with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

But Thomas was lost in his thoughts again. He tended to do that a lot, seeing as how there was always something on his mind. He couldn't help but keep thinking about what could happen to them overnight… Then again, maybe the blades would remain closed until the morning and the Grievers wouldn't pass through to where the two boys were. But that was just some highly unlikely-to-occur wishful thinking. He finally looked up at the black-haired male when he felt someone nudging his shoulder. "What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Thanks, man."

Minho sighed and fell back against the blade beside Thomas, lazily stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. "Get some rest, Greenie. You need it."

"No. What you and I both need is to find a way out of here and- -"

"If you think you're going anywhere with that shucked up ankle," murmured Minho, his voice low and dangerous, "You're more jacked up in the head than I thought."

Thomas groaned in irritation and laid his head back, looking up at the sky. "What if the maze starts changing again?" he asked, feeling curious and afraid at the same time. "When we're resting, I mean. We need to be prepared for anything that could happen."

The Asian male crossed his arms over his broad chest and nodded slowly, as if contemplating something in his mind. "Yeah, and we will be. I'll stay awake, so if something happens, I'll be sure to wake you up. Now slim it and rest."

Thomas didn't argue; he was satisfied with what Minho said. Although he didn't want to admit it, exhaustion was overcoming him. Maybe everything would be alright and nothing bad would happen to them… Maybe they would survive the maze overnight. They already did it once, so why not again?

With that thought in his mind, Thomas laid his head back and closed his eyes, letting sleep embrace him.

I hope you guys liked it! Please leave a review if you feel like it.~ Until next time. :)