DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MAZE RUNNER.

Labyrinth

It was around three hours later until Minho even heard her speak again.

He had been sitting on the grass, his head against the wall as he picked pieces from the ground and tore them up in his hands. Guard duty sucked. He would have definitely chosen to be out in the Maze facing Grievers rather than be sitting there all afternoon.

He was about to release a large puff of air, when he heard a quiet voice from the other side of the door.

"Uh, hello?"

He turned his head towards the wall, thinking that he had misheard. However, something assured him that he most definitely was not imagining things, and that she was finally choosing to speak. Pushing himself up from the ground, he stood at the door. He slid open a small cover in the door, creating a small gap for conversation with prisoners. He ducked his head slightly and looked through. The girl, Evelyn, was leaning against the wall next to the door, almost opposite to where he had sat just a few seconds previously. She had her arms folded, and was facing the other direction.

"What?" he asked, a little irritation lacing his voice. She did, after all, kick him in the foot.

At the sound of his voice, she turned, slowly. When she faced the opening in the door, she caught his eyes. "Minho, right?"

He straightened. There was something funny about the way she said his name. He suddenly realised that it was the first time he had ever heard a girl speak his name. ...He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Despite his thoughts, he answered, "That's right."

"Listen. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to hurt you." A shrug shifted her shoulders. "Well, I did. But I-"

"It's cool. You were scared. I get it," he said. He tilted his head to the side, allowing a smirk to spread on his lips. "You didn't hurt me that much, you know."

"I could have killed you if I wanted," she replied. Her eyes were narrowed, her voice holding the hint of a tease.

He scoffed, turning his back towards her once more to look upon the Glade. "Sure."

She continued to speak. Her voice suddenly sounded a lot more sincere. "Tell that Thomas kid I'm sorry. I don't really care about that other guy."

"Gally?" he asked. "You just did what everyone else has been wanting to do for years."

"Well...you're welcome then. I guess."

For a moment, she paused, and Minho assumed that was the end of their conversation. But a few minutes later, he heard her voice again. Closer this time, as if she had stepped closer.

"So, uh...how many of you are there?"

He sighed, realising that she actually wanted to have a full-fledged get-to-know-you session. He turned on his heel, facing her one more. He guessed right - she had stepped closer, leaning into the gap in the door so that only her eyes were visible.

"Around fifty," he said, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He watched her for a moment. As he looked into her eyes, he realised that there were small flecks of gold in them, hidden in the green pools. "...All boys. Except Teresa."

"What's she like?"

He shrugged. How could he describe someone he didn't really know. Or particularly care for? "I don't know. She's alright, I guess. She's kind of exclusive. So if you were looking for a new best girl friend, I don't think she'd be the way to go."

She paused for a beat. In that moment, he almost felt bad for her. He imagined that suddenly being sent up into a large group of teenage guys in some strange, scary place would be awful. No wonder she had flipped out. Her eyes flicked up towards him. "Thanks for the advice."

"Don't get used to it," he smirked. "If you're being all nice to get out, then it's not going to work. I'm just watching you, not letting you go."

"I'm hardly dangerous," she said, rolling her eyes.

"No, but you did try and beat the clunk out of several guys and run into the Maze. So we need to keep an eye on you. At least until after the Gathering."

"What's that?"

Minho sighed. All those questions. She was beginning to sound like Thomas had in his first few days. It really was beginning to grind on his nerves. Didn't these people understand the concept of learning through doing?

"It's a big meeting," he said, shortly. He tapped his knife against the metal frame of the door, sending out a loud tingling noise. "Now be quiet."

She flinched at the noise, but it wasn't enough to keep her quiet for more than a minute or so. "...I need to go to the bathroom."

"...You see that hole in the ground in the corner?"

"Yeah."

"There's your bathroom, Princess. Go nuts."

There was a quick silence as she looked behind her. It was moment before she spoke again, choosing to say, "You're kind of an ass-hole." Her features creased in mild annoyance.

"I pride myself on it." A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Besides, this is me being nice."

Gatherings were not Minho's favourite thing around the Glade.

Every meeting was the same. Alby would bring up a point, they'd argue for a little while, and eventually get tired and settle on the first point that came to their heads. Put a bunch of guys with large egos in the same room, and you're gonna have some conflict.

At least this time it was an interesting topic. He was looking forward to seeing how Newt handled this one.

As he sat beside his friend around the large table, they waited for the rest of the Keepers one by one. They soon all arrived, coming in and discussing the day's productivity. As everyone had taken a seat and grown quiet, Minho could almost feel the anticipation in the air. He reckoned everybody had something interesting to say about this whole thing.

Newt rose from his seat to get things started.

"Alright, I declare this Gathering begun, and so on and so forth..." he announced, sounding less than impressed that this was the second Gathering he had hosted in the short space of a few days. "First order of business, Teresa's note."

"The freaky end of the world proclamation type note? 'This is the last one. Ever.'?" Frypan asked, his arm dangling lazily from his chair.

"That's right. Ok, so clearly we have a situation on our hands. This are going to start to change more than they already have. We need to keep the other Gladers under control. The more order we can maintain, the less chaos we will have." His eyes flickered over to the Runner. "Minho, please tell me you're making progress?" he asked, his voice pleading.

Minho shook his head. "Not as of yet. But we're running the Maze just as much. Taking shorter breaks, things like that. We're gonna keep referencing our notes and hopefully figuring out something new."

Newt nodded. "Good that. How are we for supplies?"

"Not a problem," Winston said, his voice as mumbling as it always had sounded. "Not time for a mass suicide. Yet."

Newt seemed to ignore the grim comment from the Bloodhouse Keeper. "As long as we keep the minor details in order, we'll be prepared for whatever comes our way. We're expecting a delivery from the Box in the next few days, so we've got that to look forward to. As far as everyone else is concerned, everything is normal."

Frypan's voice spoke above the silence then. "What are we gonna do with Thomas? And Teresa? They're the ones that started the whole crazy mess."

His point seemed to set something off in the room. Most of the others nodded, and began throwing in various opinions and points. Some opposed, some for. Minho kept quiet, listening to what the others had to say. That's normally how he survived these Gatherings anyway, shutting up and getting it over with.

"Nobody is to touch either of those Shanks," Newt said, authority in his words. "They're just as much a part of the Glade as we are. Thomas has earned his keep, and Teresa is obviously a valuable commodity."

Gally decided to speak up then. He sat across from Minho, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "I say we throw the girl in the Slammer and send Thomas into the Maze," he said coldly.

Minho had to withhold a growl. He considered Thomas a friend. Having Gally suggest such a thing pissed him off beyond belief.

Newt seemed to sense his anger towards Gally, and quickly intervened. "Suggesting banishment is a serious thing, Gally."

"I know. That's why I'm suggesting it." The boy seemed to have no sensitivity as to what he was saying.

Minho felt his fists clench under the table. "Thomas has done more good for any of us in the past week than you've gone in a year," he spat. "Leave him alone, slint-head."

Gally snapped his head towards the Runner. "Watch it-"

"Enough!" Newt shouted out, breaking into the angry exchange. "I'm too bloody tired for this today." He ran a hand over his tired eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, next order of business...the girl."

"Evelyn." Minho didn't even realise that he had said it until the rest of the Gladers turned their heads towards him.

Even Newt gave him a funny look. "Correct. Two girls in just a few days. What have we done to deserve this?"

"Can we suggest that she be kept in the Slammer?" Winston spoke for the first time. "All these new things are making me uneasy."

"I agree," Frypan chipped in. "Until she can get to grips with herself, she stays in holding."

Several voices seemed to mutter words of agreement. For some reason, Minho quickly felt the need to speak up.

"Hang on guys," he reasoned, capturing the attention of the Gathering. "She's not an animal. She was scared and tried to run. Not like any of us acted any better."

"That's true," Newt agreed. Minho sent him a silent thank you with a quick glance. He would always be grateful that his old friend backed him up in times like this. "Minho? You've been keeping an eye on her. What do you think?"

Minho paused. Some of the Gladers looked at him with raised brows. One or two even glanced at him with a sneaky smirk. He wasn't really sure what they were trying to mean by that, but he had a feeling it had something to do with what Newt said. It almost implied that she was his responsibility.

But he chose not to say anything. Instead, he decided to fight her case. She could owe him one later. "She apologized for what she did. She seemed to understand our situation. We should give her a chance at least. It was obvious that she was sent here for a reason."

"Yeah. And she's hot."

Minho snapped his head to his side, where Zart was sitting. He looked sheepish, but sent the Runner an honest shrug.

"What?" he asked.

"Let's get one thing straight right now," Newt spoke above the sniggers that erupted. His words held a sense of power - a sternness that Minho had only heard a few times before. "You're all getting a little excited about these girls springing from nowhere. It doesn't mean that they're here for your entertainment. Neither one of them are to be touched. We are Gladers, not savages. We're adults, and will treat them like we treat everyone else."

"I agree," Minho said. He didn't know why, but he found himself thankful that Newt had addressed this.

The second-in-command continued. "The question is, should we let her out of the Slammer tonight? Let's take a vote. All those in favour?"

Minho raised his hand. It took a minute, but after a little while, another person raised theirs. First Zart, then Winston. After that, a majority of the room decided to join in.

"And all those opposed?"

Minho smirked as Gally and two others raised their hands. The case was won.

Even Newt had a difficult time hiding back the smirk that traced his features. "Then it's settled. The girl goes free tonight. After the doors close - we don't want her running off again."

The sound of a chair scraping harshly against the floor sent shivers down the spines of all those in the room. Heads snapped towards Gally, who was now on his feet, his hands fisted against the table.

He spat as he spoke, "You're all crazy! These girls are bad news- Thomas is bad news! We're all gonna suffer because you shucks can't make the right choice!"

"Gally, sit down," Newt reasoned.

"No! Forget it, I'm done. You never listen to what I have to say, anyway. What does it matter?!" Gally yelled. "You're all gonna wish you had listened to me in the end. And the end is coming."

With one last resolving glare Minho's way, the Keeper of the Builders stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard that Minho wondered if the roof would come down on top of them. As the sounds of his heavy feet echoed in the distance, Minho let out a long, low whistle.

"What a shuck-face," he sneered.

"Minho. You're in charge of the girl."

Minho spun in Newt's direction, not sure that he'd heard him correctly. "Why me?"

"Because you have nothing better to do," the second-in-command said. He slammed his hand down on the table and let his head drop, either in exhaustion or stress. Maybe both. "Gathering over. Now piss off."

Minho slowly stood from his seat, waiting until the last Keeper had left the room until he spoke to Newt again.

"You owe me," he grumbled, walking past him with a cold, quick pace.

He could only just hear Newt's amused tone as he shut the door behind him.

"I'll remember that!"

Minho's boots were heavy as he walked across the dry grass of the Glade towards the Slammer. Swinging the keys around his fingers, he listened to the sounds of the other Gladers going about their business, getting ready for dinner.

Although he didn't want to be in charge of the newbie, he had to admit, Newt knew what he was doing. With Alby out of commission for the time being, his friend was now in charge, and to disagree with anything he said would be betrayal on his part.

He reached the Slammer, and took a big breath. He had hoped that the time in the Slammer would have made the girl re-evaluate her attitude.

He tapped heavily on the door. "Hey, you alive in there?"

"Barely," came the snark reply. Apparently not.

"Do me a favour and step back from the door."

"You gonna break it down?"

Minho shrugged. "I could." He tapped the key against the door to make a metallic ring in the air. "...Or I could unlock it with a key. Step back, hands up."

He waited a second for her to comply before he unlocked the door. As it swung open, he glanced upwards towards Evelyn. As per instructed, she was standing on the other side of the small room, her hands up. She stared back at him with an unhappy glare.

He grinned widely at her. Although he didn't enjoy being the new elected babysitter, he did sort of enjoy her annoyance. "Good evening."

"I wish I could say the same," she mumbled.

"Come on. You're free to go."

"To go?"

"Well, to get out of here." When she didn't budge, he began to back away from the door, shrugging his shoulders. "If you wanna stay, I'm sure you could..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, she let her arms drop and made for the door. "No thanks."

As she moved past him, he felt her arm brush against his. The touch sparked something inside him, but he forced himself to ignore it - putting it down to hunger. As she moved past the door, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into him.

She flinched, but looked up towards him with a glare. They were face to face now. He returned the glare straight back down to her. They were so close, he could almost feel her breathing. For a split second, he considered not letting her go just to see what would happen.

But the temptation disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

"Any funny moves, and I'll have you thrown back in here. Get it?" he said, his voice stern.

She quirked a brow. "Tough guy, right?"

"That's right." He let himself smirk at her annoyance.

"Got it," she snapped, yanking her wrist away. His fingers gripped the empty air that was now there.

"Perfection." He followed her out of the door, locking it behind him with an affirmative click. "Let's go meet the locals."