AUTHORS NOTE

Okay, Guys, just so you know, I'm actually German, so in this story might be some mistakes. Please tell me there they are, when you found one. I write English 'cause I've read the Maze Runner Trilogy in English and 'cause it's fun. Thanks!

-•-

When Percy came back from the war against Gaea, he didn't expected the world to be so freaking chaotic. More changes happened in his long-time sleep than he thought.

But what he definitely not wanted was another adventure - but that was what he got. A wannabe good man organization decided to throw him into a huge maze just for fun - until he understood what's the suppose of WICKED.

The Gladers have to find the escape quickly and their only hope is a scared newbie and a psycho girl who had a 'special gift'. But Percy started to accept the arrival of the only boy who had the chance to save his whole friendship and family but didn't remember anything.

Will they find an escape? How? What happens then the Maze Runner World meets the Demigod World?

-•-

He looked into her gray eyes. They were beautiful, his favourite color.

When he was younger, his favourite color had been blue, the same shade his mother used, when she made blue cookies. But when he turned fourteen, he started to think different. Now, with seventeen, he thought the stormy gray of her eyes was the color of pure beauty.

He wrapped his arms around her trim body. Immediately she closed her eyes and leaned in. He stifled a laugh and kissed her. The kiss was sweet und slow, her lips were soft und tasted like strawberries.

The dark haired boy was surprised. He didn't expected his girlfriend to use the lip gloss the Aphrodite cabin made of the camp strawberries.

"You used the strawberry lip gloss from Pipes, don't you," he breathed into her ear.

She shivered as his cold breath tickled her skin. Using her golden curls to cover her reddening face, she pulled him closer.

"Well, do you like it," she whispered.

He held her away from his body. Brushing her gorgeous curls out of her face, he said, "I love it." She raised an eyebrow. "But I love you more," he added grinning.

She smiled at him, loving him for being the complet idiot he was. He leaned forward again und kissed her soft cheek and lips. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of this handsome boy being near her.

"I'll miss you, you know that," he said.

"I'd be disappointed if you'll not. IM me, will you?"

"Of course," he smiled. "You know what?"

"What," she asked.

"Despite everything we've been through nothing could be worse," he said. "So everything is going to become better."

"I hope so," she said. She hesitated, but closed her mouth. She wasn't going to share her doubts with him. It was bad enough, that she couldn't hope for some peace after the last months.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and leaned into his chest, feeling his calm heartbeat and the constant up and down of his chest, when he breathed.

They looked over the hills where Camp Half-Blood lied down in the valley in the sunup. The greek buildings shone like pure silver when the light met the marble. The big green bonfire flickered when the goddess Hestia poked it with her hands. Waves from the Long Island Sound crashed at the white beach of the camp. The big baby blue house where Chiron, the centaur, rested, was quiet and empty. Several demigods who'll rest the whole year here made their way to the pavilion for breakfast.

It was peaceful.

"I love you Percy," the blond girl said.

Percy smiled. "I love you too, Annabeth."

-•-

Percy exited the train from Long Island and looked around. He hadn't been in New York for a while, in fact he had been busy with trying to survive in the war against the Giants and Gaia. He flinched when he thought back at these days just one or two weeks before.

It hadn't helped his mind that the weeks before he had been in the deepest shit hole that any mythological creature could think of. The first days that passed on the Argo II after Tartarus he wouldn't sleep, because he was afraid to have nightmares. But with the help of Annabeth, his friends, tons of coffee and a always sleepy son of the dream god, named Clovis, he had survived the last days.

New York was different, busy, but not quiet so busy like it had been after the second titan war. After that war every New Yorker had waked up in the middle of city without any memory of the week before. They had been lost, confused and flustered, going after every clue they could grab.

But now, the New Yorker seemed frightened. Nobody stopped to talk with strangers, they hurried to get wherever they go, the lines before the cafés were short and the people stiffly. A onerous silence rested over the city, dust floated through the streets. People covered their heads with sheets or other clothings, as if they could become ill when they just let the sun touch their skin. Red dressed people ran through the crowds, randomly picking people out and setting mechanical things on their eyes. The people who got the things on their eyes stumbled a little after the process.

Percy wasn't just suspicious, he was completely and utterly confused. What happened to his city in those few months? He walked out of the station only to be stopped by a red-shirt-man.

"Stop," Red Shirt said and held out a hand. "You have to be checked when you want walking around in this city." He pointed at the mechanical thing that hung from his waist.

That was the moment when Percy realized that behind the man were doors to another room, and locked doors again, and everything he had seen from his city had been on screens. His heart pounded in his chest. What was going on?

"What," Percy asked, trying to take these new surroundings in.

Red Shirt rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, that's nothing to joke about. It's my job to make sure, that you aren't going to bring the Flare into this city."

Percy doesn't understand one word. What the hell was the Flare? Why would he bring it into the city, when it was bad? And what means 'checked'?

Despite the fact that Red Shirt was speaking about complete shit, Percy realized that this man wasn't a monster. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, where he had unknowingly gripped his pen sword.

Percy didn't know what was going on, but the only useful thought he had, was that he had to reach his mother and Paul. They could possibly tell him what's up with New York and Red Shirt and 'the Flare', whatever that means. This was the moment when he started to miss his Wise Girl very badly.

"Okay," Percy shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal to let some strange, red dressed man check him with a gadgetry that seems to blind people.

Red Shirt narrowed his eyes as he untangled the machinery from his belt. "You didn't seem scared of the Flare," he said.

I don't even know what that is, Percy thought. Instead he said, "Fear doesn't help anyone."

"You're right," the man said. "But aren't you just a little bit afraid that you can die?"

"As if that would be the first time, that could happen," Percy muttered under his breath.

Red Shirt sent him a curious glance but didn't say anything. He pushed some buttons on the thing in his hands, opened some straps and sat it on Percys eyes.

Percy didn't even hesitated when he saw colorful lights flashing before his eyes and seeming to cross his mind. His thoughts swirled. He spun around and wanted to uphold himself with something, wanted to yank the thing from his head, but Red Shirt held him back. He wrapped his arms around his waist and Percy wasn't sure if he really heard a whistle from him.

The lights started to disappear and the torture weakened. Percys fingers trembled. Read Shirt tore the strange torture hat from his head and started writing something on a paper.

"First time in a check," he asked casually. Percy nodded, not thrilled of this process. "Well, you are lucky, kid," Red Shirt said. "You are immune. Why are you here?"

"To visit my mom and stepfather," Percy said and glanced again on the screens. Now he understand the reaction of the people who were checked.

"What's your name," Red Shirt spoke again.

"Percy Jackson," he said, before he could stop himself. How stupid from him to call his real name.

"Percy Jackson, ah," Red Shirt said and looked up. "Sounds British."

"I'm American," Percy said through gritted teath. "My dad is Greek."

"Where are you coming from," Red Shirt asked.

"From a visit to my dad," Percy said tentatively. "He lives in Athens."

"How long do you want to stay?"

Percy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe just a few days and I'm gone again. Probably I visit my girlfriend in San Francisco soon. She was with me in Greece."

"Oh," Red Shirt said, narrowing his eyes. Percy scolded himself for telling this stranger so much.

"Yeah," Percy said stiffly. Red Shirt watched him a second, then turned his attention to the paper, again.

"Okay, I think you are going to be okay in the city," Red Shirt said. "But, just an advice, don't tell the people about your immunity to the Flare. They don't like us Munies, understandably." He winked, then pushed a button on a zapper and the first door opened. Red Shirt handed him the paper, but thanks to his dyslexia he couldn't read a word.

Percy nodded and walked in the room. In the middle of the chamber stood a wooden table. After closing the doors behind him, a female voice spoke to him. It didn't come from a person, or at least no person he could see.

"Name," the voice demanded.

Percy hesitated a moment, then said, "Percy Jackson."

"Are you checked?"

"Yes."

"What's the result," the voice continued.

"I'm immune," Percy said.

"No," the woman sounded annoyed. "Lay the paper down on the table."

"Oh," Percy said and did what he was told to. He stood awkwardly for some minutes, then the voice continued.

"You're fine. Please left the paper on the table. We hope you enjoy your stay in New York."