DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MAZE RUNNER.

Labyrinth

Minho found the next day to be overwhelmingly boring. At least, the first half.

Given the situation with Alby and everything, Newt had asked him to stay behind whilst the other runners did their thing. This was a rare occurrence, but Minho knew that Newt would only ever ask if he felt he needed the help. And so the rest of the day was spent wandering around, checking in on the different Keepers and helping out with the day to day chores of the Glade.

Thomas followed him around for the most of the morning, which was okay. Minho liked the guy, and he did owe him his life, after all. But even the Greenie got bored, and left him to converse with Teresa somewhere. Minho rolled his eyes when Thomas excused himself. There was something going on between those two - what it was exactly, he would have to wait to figure out.

At around noon, he had settled himself around the Kitchen, listening to Frypan complain about how old his kitchen tools were. He nodded in the right places, 'um'ing and 'ah'ing when appropriate. His eyes and mind, however, were focused on a stain on the wall, spending a good amount of time trying to figure out what it was.

Then, without warning, a loud siren wailed through the air. Both he and Frypan froze at the familiar noise.

Frypan's eyes narrowed. "Is that..."

Without reply, Minho raised from his seat, and made for the door, the cook right behind him. When they emerged from the Kitchen, he saw most of the Gladers making their way (some running) towards a large hole in the ground where the Box lay.

They reached the area of the Box, where the rest of the Gladers had stopped, hovering hesitantly around the sides.

"Make way, coming through-" Minho heard Newt say.

The second-in-command appeared from behind him, and made his way towards the very edge of the opening. As he did so, the lid of the box began to part.

The darkness of the opening was horrific for every Glader to see. It reminded most of their own venture up in the shaking thing. Darkness, metal, and noise. That's all that lay inside the box.

Except now, there was something-someone-else inside.

Newt's eyes widened, and narrowed. He leaned down pressed his hands to his knees. Minho watched as his jaw slacked.

"...Oh, bloody hell..." Newt muttered.

Minho craned his neck, wondering what had his friend so speechless. When he saw, he found his own words disappear.

Inside the box, despite all disbelief, was another girl.

For a few moments, as the other Gladers began to catch sight, harsh whispers and amazed mumbles filled the air.

Someone's voice cut through the crowd, seemingly to voice the thoughts of every guy in the area.

"Another one?!"

Minho edged closer to the opening of the box to get a closer look. The girl sat huddled in the corner of the box, her knees drawn up to her chest. She stared straight forward, her eyes red and still. She didn't seem scared, or even remotely worried. She just seemed sort of...dead.

Crouching down, he wanted to get her to move. The whole statue thing was kind of unnerving. As he caught sight of her face, he took a minute to look her over. With long hair the colour of dark chestnut, and eyes that were a dark green, she didn't seem too bad at first glance.

He flicked his eyes up to the rest of the group. Each one was looking down, and by the look on their faces, he could tell they were thinking the same thing.

"Alright. Someone bring her up," Newt spoke above the group.

Within a few moments, someone had flung a rope down to the box, hoping that she would climb out herself. But when she continued to sit in complete silence, Newt instructed Thomas and Gally to jump down and hoist her up.

The two Gladers glanced at each other coldly, but made their way into the box. Minho watched quietly as the two slung her arms over their shoulders and lifted her from the box.

"Take her to the Homestead until she wakes up," Newt ordered.

Thomas nodded, and the two began to slowly guide her across the grass, moving away from the crowds. Hushed mumbles echoed through the crowd of Gladers as they began to walk away. Then, the unexpected happened.

Without warning, the girl suddenly became alive.

With a panicked yelp, she swung her elbow towards her side - hitting Thomas direct in the jaw- and freed her right arm. Several of the Gladers stepped back at the action, eyed widened. Voices began yelling.

Thomas fell to the floor, his hand against his jaw.

Gally, her next target, ducked his head at her next swing. Minho watched, stunned, as Gally proceeded to yank her towards the Homestead. Within the next few seconds, the show continued.

Bringing up her knee, the girl caught Gally in the stomach, causing him to double over, gasping for air.

At this point, the Gladers had retreated, standing several feet away, awaiting her next move. How funny, Minho thought, that a bunch of guys can be frightened by a panicked girl.

At this moment, she snapped her head in his direction, and their eyes locked.

The gesture made Minho freeze on the spot. Her eyes had a wild, frenzied look about them. Caught between fear and fury. For a second, he wondered if he was her next target. Her hands were clenched by her side, her chest rising and falling with quick pants. Minho mentally readied himself - he could have her on the ground and tied up in a second if he wanted.

But something happened.

In a completely unexpected turn of events, the girl spun on her heel, and ran.

The action made Minho almost stumble back. What the hell was she running from? Where was the girl gonna go?

Parting from her pathway, several Gladers made a motion to reach out and grab her, only to miss completely as she weaved in between them at lightening speed. It was only when they stepped back that Minho saw where she was headed.

The Maze door.

"Somebody grab her!" he heard Newt yell. "She's headed for the Maze!"

Without hesitation, Minho began to run. He whipped past the other Gladers, sprinting towards her figure, who was already halfway across the Glade.

Hearing the yelling behind him, Minho was temped to roll his eyes. Catching up to her wasn't a problem. In only a few short moments, he had caught up, and was just a few feet away from her. As they neared the Maze door, he reached out and swiped at her arm. He only brushed the fabric of her shirt before she increased her speed.

"Hey!" he yelled. The chase was getting annoying now.

When she didn't respond, he decided that he'd had enough fun. With a burst of energy, he leapt forward and tugged on her arm. As she fell back, he wrapped his arms around her frame, tightly trapping her in his grip.

With a shout of anger, she kicked out, lifting herself into the air. Minho held tight, and ignored her kicks to his legs, only grunting when she caught his knee.

"Slim it, girl!" he hissed. "Nobody wants to hurt you here!"

"Let me go!" she cried. "I'll kill you!"

Despite himself, he let out a chuckle at that. "Real funny." Finding his strength, he planted her on the ground, spun her around so she faced him, and gripped her wrists tightly. All had happened before she barely had time to regain herself. As she stumbled over her own feet, he steadied her firmly, watching in amusement as her eyes shone with white hot rage.

"Asshole!" she grunted as he pulled her close.

Hearing the rumbling feet of the other Gladers behind him, Minho shook the girl.

"You listen to me," he snapped. Surprisingly, his voice seemed to shut her up. She watched him, her lips curled in disgust as he harshly spoke. "You go in there," he said, nodding towards the door. "...And you'll be dead in a half hour. How are you gonna kill me then, hmm?"

As Newt and the others arrived, he only heard her frustrated grunt as she returned to her struggling.

"Well done, Minho," Newt breathed. He walked up beside the runner and watched the newbie carefully. "She sure puts up a fight."

As if on cue, Minho felt a sharp burst of pain in his foot as the girl slammed her own down on top of it. He hissed, and having lost his grip, felt the girl slip from his hands. Several people yelled from behind him - a rise of warnings that she was about to run again. But he regained himself quickly, and wrapped another arm around her, holding his hand over her mouth to hide her shouts.

"I need that to run," he whispered harshly into her ear. Now he was pissed. "You do that again, and I'm gonna get real angry."

Upon hearing this, the girl did not stop fighting, but her movements slowed.

Minho turned her towards the group. "Thomas, you okay?"

He watched the Greenie, who was looking on at the scene in amazement.

Thomas nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

Gally's voice erupted through the crowd. "Well I 'ain't! Thanks for asking!" No sooner had the words been spoken did he emerge from the group, red-faced and mad as hell. He stormed towards them, his breaths heaving.

"Slim it, Gally-" Newt began.

"Don't say anything!" the other boy snapped. He pointed a sharp finger in the girl's direction. "This...chick comes in here, and causes trouble. I don't like trouble! You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Sweetheart." As he moved towards them, Minho could see Gally's hand twitching in rage.

Acting on some instinct, Minho threw the girl towards Newt, who caught her between his arms. He then walked towards Gally, his face already set into a stony glare. Never before had the two boys said one nice word to each other, so Minho really wasn't above beating the shuck outta him.

"Leave her alone, Slinthead," Minho challenged. "You deserved it. You got a problem, deal with me."

"Gladly," Gally spat. The two boys closed in on each other, and Gally was the first to make a move, shoving his hands against Minho's chest with a large force. Minho leaned into it, shooting a warning look into the other boy's eyes. He raised his arm, only to feel someone yank it back.

"Stop," he heard Thomas command. "We've got bigger problems." Minho felt Thomas release his arm, and let it fall by his side.

Gally snapped his glare towards the newest male. "Nobody asked for your input, shuck-face. Stay out of it."

"Thomas is right." Newt raised his own voice. "We're not bloody turning on each other, so calm down. Go cool off if you have to, but don't stay here and make a bigger problem."

A small growling sound came from Gally. "You're gonna be sorry," he warned, directing his glare towards Minho, before turning and storming off into the collection of trees.

Minho shrugged. "I could have taken him."

"Didn't you get enough at the Gathering?" Newt groaned. He turned his attention towards the whole group. "Everybody clear off! The show's over. Thomas, you're on watch with Alby. Everyone else gets back to work." He pointed at Minho, then to himself. "You're with me. We'll take her to the Slammer."

The two boys held the girl between them, and pulled her in the direction of the Slammer. She didn't resist, but both could hear her small sighs of anger aimed towards them. One they'd reached the small door that let into the make-shift prison, Newt let her go, unlocked the door, and allowed Minho in first.

He firmly escorted her though the threshold, and only released his grip once he had heard the door shut behind them. It was then that she pulled away, stepping back and looking on him as if he were some sort of snake. Minho wanted to roll his eyes - as if he was any more dangerous than the next guy.

Newt moved past him and stood before her, his hands down by his sides. Minho suddenly realised that until now, Alby had been charged with assessing the Greenies. With him in the last phases of the Changing, Newt was now left as top dog. He wondered how his old friend would deal with this, and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched on.

Newt didn't let his face crack as he began speaking, his voice firm. "What's your name? I'm only gonna ask once."

The girl looked as if she were about to come out with something insulting, but after catching Newt's stony stare, she fell quiet. "I don't..." She paused. Confusion raked her expression, until she finally seemed to find the word she was looking for. "...Evelyn."

"Very pretty. Congratulations," Newt muttered. Minho let himself snigger at his friends blatant sarcasm. "Do you remember anything?"

"I don't...I can't." The longer the silence, the more confused she seemed to get. Minho remembered the frustration of not understanding anything about yourself. Just then, he almost seemed to feel sorry for the poor shuck.

"Figures as much," Newt muttered.

The girl (Evelyn, Minho figured to call her) shot her eyes up towards them. "What are you going to do to me?"

At that moment, Newt did roll his eyes to the sky. "Settle down. My name's Newt. This is Minho." Something changed in him then, and Minho watched as Newt stepped forward, slowly. His face softened, speaking a little gentler.

"I'll explain to you as much as I can. It'll sound difficult to understand, but please try and listen. You're in a place called the Glade. All those people out there are the only ones in here. None of us know who we are, or who we were before we came into the glade. We're surrounded by a maze. Every morning, the doors to the maze open, and they shut every night. Every since the first of us were sent up two years ago, we've been trying to find a way out. Never have. You keeping up?"

The girl hesitated, but chose to nod. It was then that Minho realised Newt's approach. He liked it. Sure as hell was a lot nicer than Alby's curt introduction.

Newt continued. "We've built a somewhat sustainable life here. Everyone has jobs, and we keep busy. That boy you clocked in the jaw? That's Thomas. He turned up a week ago. There's another girl - Teresa. She turned up the day after him. Which is extremely unheard of. We've never had more than one newbie a month. ...And now we have you."

He stopped. The girl said nothing, and after a few moments passing in silence, Newt waved his hand in front of her face.

"Are you awake?" he asked, irritation in his voice.

Her eyes dropped towards the ground. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. Shaky, even. "I...I can't...Can I have a minute?"

Newt tilted his head. "Why not. Take several." Without another word to her, he turned on his heel and gestured to his friend. "Minho."

Minho moved with him as they left the Shack, only looking back to glance at the girl, who was now sitting on the ground with her chin on her knees. When they were outside, Newt turned to him and sighed.

"What do you think?" Minho asked.

Newt shrugged. "Seems genuine. But we'll keep her in there for a day or two until she calms down enough to be with the others. Besides, I want to have a Gathering. Something is happening. First Teresa, now this?"

Minho, without a response ready, let his eyes fall to the Shack door. Behind it, lay a new mystery. A new challenge. A new girl. Something which he wouldn't have even considered happening yesterday.

Although he wouldn't say it aloud, he was secretly a little impressed. Of all the reactions of newbies coming out of the box, hers had certainly been dramatic. Most just tend to curl up and cry, or don't say a word for days. But her, she'd tried to run. And as much as he hated to think it, she had been pretty good at it, too.

Newt's voice started breaking into his head. "Hello?" the other boy whined. Minho snapped back to reality when he saw Newt's clicking fingers in front of his eyes. "Wake up, shuck-face!"

"What?" Minho snapped, swatting his friend's hand away.

Newt let confusion scatter across his face. He turned towards the Shack, blinked, and let his head fall in defeat. "Oh please. Please don't do this to me," he groaned, disappointment lacing his voice.

Minho shrugged. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"Listen here. Until we figure out what's going on, she's not to be talked to. Get me?"

Minho suddenly realised what Newt was implying. He really wished that the Glader would give him a little credit sometimes. "Oh geez, Newt. I wasn't-"

"Just say yes."

"Yes. Okay."

Doubtful still, Newt twisted his lips into a small grimace. "Keep guard," he finally mumbled, before glancing towards the Shack door once more. He then walked off, probably to check in with Alby, leaving Minho alone by the Shack.

Minho turned and looked into the sky of the Glade. At least, he figured it was a real sky. Who was to say that it wasn't some phoney illusion like everything else in this goddamn place. Heat beat down on him, making it easy to find a sense of relaxation. He turned, planted himself down on the ground beside the door, and leaned his head against the wood.

He figured he might as well get some peace before the next flow of drama began.