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comebacknow · 7 years

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Even Though You Should

The Maze Runner Valentine’s Week

Day 2: Rare Pair Appreciation Day – Newt x Brenda

A/N: This is mostly dedicated to @newtmas because she basically slammed Brenewt into my head last night. Also, because it was just last night - this has been written very quickly and on a very short time limit, so it’s pretty out there, but I will be working on it and fixing it up over the next week or so and adding to it. I’ve got a whole story for these two. Here are some snippets.

ALSO. There are a lot of cuts in the writing because it takes place during TST so like.... obviously we know what goes on in the movie, so there are a LOT of cuts and some of it is just like small snippets between scenes that we've seen in the movie. So I hope it makes sense? I switched a few details but whatever. I’m rambling.

*strums guitar* Anyway, here’s Brenewt.

“Where are they?” Newt stood, crouched over rubbing his leg. Landing from the zip line hard on his legs took a toll on him, even if Minho was there to catch him.

He watched as Teresa slammed into Minho’s arms and he steadied her.

“Where are they?” Newt stumbled forward toward her.

Breathless, she turned to look up to the building’s window, music faintly playing from it still. “They were right behind me. I’m sorry. The girl ran to get something and Tom went after her but he said they’d be down.”

“She-,” Newt stopped himself. “He went after her? Of course he did.” Newt spun, fuming.

“Newt, he’ll be here, it’s okay.” Frypan nodded at him.

“He’d better be,” Newt eyed Jorge where he stood over Fry’s shoulder.

“She’ll get him out.”

“She’ll get him out?” Newt laughed. “Are you kidding me? She’s the reason he’s still in there!”

“Newt, come on,” Minho reached a tentative hand toward him, which Newt took the liberty of smacking away in his frustration. “Just, would you calm down? You’re gonna agitate your leg.”

“I’m fine, Minho.” Even so, he stilled, eyes stuck on the window above for any sign of movement. His eyes slid to Jorge, whose mouth straightened to a line as the song came to a sudden stop.

A second later Newt was crouched on the floor at the sudden burst of sound, shrapnel, flame. He looked up, an arm hovering above him to shield from any excess metal from the building. Though, it wasn’t a building anymore. Where the window was just moments ago, was now a gaping hole, the zip line slowly falling down to ground level.

Newt straightened, the others mirroring in silence. His eyes met Jorge’s.

“They got out,” the man said, more to himself than to the others. “They got out. Let’s move.”

“This is the place?”

“Yes,” Jorge growled back to Minho.

The group walked in through a doorway, stepping over legs, bodies.

“Are they dead?” Teresa asked, hesitantly.

“They’re drunk.” Jorge answered.

“They’re happy!” an unfamiliar voice slurred across the cluttered room from them.

Newt looked up to see a man standing with shadowed eyes. His bright clothing a contrast to the dreary scene around them. He stood wavering, a glass of something green in his hand. “Come to join the party, old friend?”

Newt looked from him to Jorge, but the latter had already moved, charging at him. Newt and the others jumped back as Jorge pummeled him with fists and garbled screams of where is she?

“Jorge? Jorge!”

Newt’s eyes shot up at the girl’s voice as Jorge paused. “Brenda!” Their reunion was short-lived before Jorge was dragging the other man, Marcus, up to his feet by the collar of his sequined jacket. “Boy,” Jorge nodded at Minho, “that chair. Now.”

Minho dragged an upturned chair to the center of the room and helped Jorge tie the man in place, but Newt focused on the girl. “Where is he?”

“Nice to see you all alive, too.” The girl rose her brows at him.

Newt blinked at her, mouth in a line.

She took a breath, arms crossed. “I don’t know. They fed us Bliss an-,”

“You don’t know?” Newt rose his brows, stepping forward. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Newt,” Frypan softly spoke somewhere behind him.

“I mean,” Brenda stepped forward, “that your buddy got a little Blissed up and disappeared into the crowd.”

“Newt, over here!” Teresa’s voice rang out from across the room.

With another glare in Brenda’s direction, Newt took off to help Teresa get Thomas set up on a low-lying cot. He was still breathing, but clearly out. “Stay with him,” Newt nodded to her.

She offered a sad smile to him and looked back down to Thomas.

Newt made his way back across the room, past where Jorge was sending another fist to Marcus’ face.

“You.” Newt said, a hand grasped around Brenda’s arm as he pulled her to the corner. “We’re talking now.”

“Excuse me?” The girl pulled her arm from Newt’s grasp. “First of all, watch who you’re talking to, and who you’re touching.”

Newt blinked at the girl, a bit startled.

“Second, I got him out of there, so don’t cut an attitude with me because you couldn’t keep an eye on your friend.”

“I…,” Newt stuttered over the words a bit, unsure how to react. Before he could, she continued.

“I think I deserve a bit more of a thank you for getting him here in the first place where you guys could find us.”

“I’m,” Newt cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I should have been a bit nicer.”

“Yeah,” Brenda crossed her arms. “You should have.”

Newt blinked at her. “I just, I worry. He’s a self-sacrificing idiot, sometimes. Doesn’t know when to stop.”

“And how is that my fault?”

Newt swallowed. “It’s, uh, it’s not. You’re right.”

“Good. Remember those words for next time we talk,” she turned on a heel. “You’ll probably need them again.”

Newt stood in place as Brenda walked off to join the others, unsure of what happened. He was fairly certain nobody had spoken to him like that before. Even Minho used a light tone with him, a softer bite than those he gave others. Newt found his eyes trailing along the floor and finding the girl’s boots before hesitantly working their way up and eventually to the side of her face as she looked on over Jorge’s shoulder.

He took a steadying breath and shook his head. Get it together, Newt.

“Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.”

Newt turned to look at Jorge before turning over his shoulder to the group in the back of the truck. He looked forward again to broken down cars and trucks, and shouldered open the passenger side door.

Steadying a hand on the open door and on the edge of the car he planted himself on the edge of the truck.

“Newt.” Minho’s hand met his on the edge of the car.

Newt offered a tight smile at his friend, bracing his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he helped him down. He landed on the ground and looked up, past Minho, meeting a set of dark eyes.

Brenda dropped her gaze to the boy’s legs, raising a brow before turning and walking forward with the group.

Newt grit his teeth and slammed the door.

“You good?” Minho asked.

“Bloody fantastic,” he mumbled out, falling into step next to his friend.

The group moved forward and Newt craned his neck at the landscape around them. The wind hit them as they stepped from the tunnel.

In a moment’s flash bullets sprayed among them.

“GET DOWN!” Thomas’ voice echoed against the rocky walls as Newt buckled down in the shade of a truck, Minho and Brenda pressed to either side of him.

“Can anybody see where those bloody shots came from?” Newt yelled out, attempting to crane his neck to the skies.

A rasp of a breath next to him sounded as Brenda responded, “Yeah. We’ve all got super human vision that sees through cars and rock.”

Newt turned to the girl next to him. “Really? We’re being shot at and you want to give me an attitude?”

She turned to him with strained eyes, mouth slightly open, breath heavy. A hint of a smirk came across her mouth before she leaned her head back on the truck.

Newt furrowed his brows at her. “Are you alri-?”

“Everybody get ready to run back to the truck!” Jorge’s voice rang out somewhere past one of the other cars.

Minho’s hand grasped Newt’s shoulder and before he knew what he was doing, Newt’s hand was on Brenda’s, ready to pull her up.

A sudden metal cylinder was in his eyeline. He followed the line of it up to pale hands, a scarf around a mouth, a blonde girl’s face. “Get up.”

The three slowly stood. Newt’s eyes were still on the shotgun pointed to his chest as the girl walked them over to where Thomas and Jorge stood.

“Who are you?” The taller girl demanded.

Heavy breathing came from just behind Newt as Thomas and the girls spoke. An exchange of words was made, but Newt’s eyes slid to Brenda, her eyes unfocused on the ground in front of her.

Newt looked around him to see if the others had taken notice. He took a slow step backward, barely noticeable. He was about to turn to Brenda when one of the girls suddenly yelled for Aris, and Newt’s attention spun back to the front, all thoughts of the girl next to him pushed to the back of his mind.

“Well, I know this guy, Aris. I trust him.”

Newt’s eyes found the younger boy where he stood, sheepish smile as he sent a small wave forward. Just next to him though, Newt caught sight of Brenda. It jarred him. Her skin paled since just a few moments ago, her lips darkened, eyes glassed over and barely open. Her chest heaved with aching breaths. Newt’s eyes shot to Thomas, but before he could speak, the girl went down.

Newt shuffled forward but stopped immediately as the man ahead of them, Vince he thinks his name was, pulled out a gun, pointing it at the girl. Thomas skittered ahead, sliding into place. Always the bloody hero, Newt thought to himself, his heart stuttering, hands slightly up in surrender.

Whatever words were exchanged, though, Newt didn’t take in. His eyes landed on the girl, unconscious on the ground. Her hands were veined dark, coming from beneath her sleeves. Her lips black, more darkened veins snaking around her neck. Newt felt a swirling deep in his chest at the sight of it, an urge to move forward, to do something, anything.

A/N: Post-WCKD Raid.

The camp was stifling.

No, it was quite cool. The wind around them, covering their skin in goosebumps. Even with the jacket Vince had given Newt, he still found himself hunching his shoulders against the cool air.

The camp was stifling.

With silence, with a heavy unease, with worry.

Thomas spent most of his days to the side with Vince, huddled over maps, stray papers, notes, plans, plans, plans.

It agitated Newt. They could come up with a hundred plans, and none of them would bring Minho back.

The camp was stifling.

Frypan spent time with Jorge, learning to drive, determined to find a way to help. Newt ground his teeth as Fry continued to reverse slowly. A turn. Gas. Break. Gear shift. Forward. The car would never be fast enough.

The camp was stifling.

“You seem cheerful. I wanna sit next to you.”

Newt turned his head to where Brenda let herself fall into a seated position on the rocks next to him. Her voice dripped with sarcasm through lips that were back to their normal color, her face restored from its sick pallor, eyes back to their simple brown. Her lips quirked up into a smirk that was just visible before she lifted her hands around her mouth, blowing into them and rubbing them together.

Newt faced forward again.

The camp was stifling.

“You know, all that frowning, you’re gonna have some awfully bad face lines.”

Newt blinked. “What do you care about lines on my face?”

“I don’t, but your boyfriend might.”

Newt fought the eye roll as he turned his face away from her. His eyes landed on the tent that kept Thomas and Vince and their incessant planning from view. “None of this is going to work.”

“Wow, Newt.”

Newt turned to her again as she re-laced her boot. His name in her voice jarred something in him.

“All that positivity is actually gonna start giving some of us hope.”

“Your sarcasm is quite annoying at times, d’you know that?”

Her face turned up to him, a bright smile on it. “Your negativity is annoying.” She straightened up. “Come on, man. I just survived a flare outbreak, cut me some slack.”

Newt furrowed his brows at her. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Of what?”

“It happening again?”

Brenda shrugged, looking forward. “What am I gonna do, live with panic my whole life? If it comes, it comes. We’ll deal with it when it does. For now, the way I see it, I get a second chance. And I’m not spending it in the company of negativity, so either cheer up or find a new seat.”

Newt blinked at her. “I was here first.”

“Then cheer up.” She smiled at him.

Newt tore her eyes from her, looking forward again. He took a breath. A second chance, she’d said. Newt thought back to his own second chance, the second chance Minho had given him. He resolved to do everything in his power to make sure Minho got that second chance. He turned back to Brenda, who stayed eyeing him, waiting.

“Fine. I’ll stop the negativity. But don’t think I’m going to lead a parade any time soon.”

“It’d be a slow moving parade, anyway. I wouldn’t want it.”

He eyed her once more, a narrow stare, as she smirked and warmed her hands again, looking out over the wasteland. A stuttered heartbeat somewhere in his chest.

The camp was so goddamn stifling.

#UserNewtmas #ALINA HERE!! lol #TMRVday2018 #talk about a rarepair #this is in shambles but im super short on time so here are snippets #Brenewt #!!!!#tmr #tst #brenda x newt #rarepair #drabbles #talk about a rabbit hole #i repeat words a lot #and ramble a lot oh god #okay bye

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