You'd waved to Minho that morning, a big smile spread across your face. He'd just looked at you like you were a ghost, prancing through the Glade. You didn't care though. You were on your way to breakfast, where Alby was going to get you started training with your first Keeper, to find you a job among the Gladers.

He made you wait another week after the Slammer incident, saying that every Newbie had to be here for around two weeks before they started looking for jobs -- but you knew that was a bunch of klunk.

Frypan had given you a few extra muffins for breakfast, saying you would need your strength while working in the fields -- which was to be your first task.

"(Y/N)!" You could tell immediately that it was Newt calling your name, with his unusual accent. You turned to look for him, and saw his figure running towards you, his limp much more apparent. "Hey," he panted, finally making it over to you. His face was flushed, and he was gasping for air, hunched over and leaning on his knees for support.

"You look like you've run all the way through the Maze and back," you told him with a wry smile, breaking a piece off your muffin and popping it in your mouth. He could only shake his head, still too out of breath to speak. You waited patiently until he'd gathered his bearings.

"I've... been running... all over the... buggin' Glade... since... early.... this morning," he managed to say, bringing a hand up to wipe his brow. "Alby told me to... come get you... and take you to... Zart."

"He's the Keeper in the field, right?" you asked, after swallowing the last bite of your first muffin, and now moving on to unwrap the second.

"Yeah." The older boy slumped down in a seat next to you, his chest heaving.

"Here." You offered your third muffin to him, holding it out under his nose.

"Nah, you eat it. You're going to need all the bloody strength you can get."

You rolled your eyes, shoving it in his face. "I don't want it," you said stubbornly. Newt gave you a hard stare, then begrudgingly accepted it, ripping the wrapper off and taking a big bite.

"It's blueberry," you said after another mouthful.

"It's good," he managed around the second bite. Crumbs fell out of his mouth and onto his shirt, and he quickly brushed them off.

"Frypan is a magic worker," you agreed, finishing, then taking a long swig of milk. You handed the cup to Newt, watching as he lifted it to his lips and tilted his head back, draining the cup entirely.

"Oi, Newt!" A boy came jogging up to you. "We need you over in..." he trailed, his eyebrows knitting together. "Sorry to interrupt your little tea party mate, but," he gestured to the large stone building behind him with this thumb, "ya know. Minho... and...."

You shot a confused look at Newt, but he didn't meet your gaze, instead looking at the boy with a knowing expression.

"Right, I just need to get (Y/N) here to Zart so she can start her training, then I'll be right over."

Apparently satisfied, the boy turned and began running in the direction of the building.

Newt stood up, and you followed suit, gathering up your wrappers into one big wad and stuffing them inside the cup. "Come on," Newt said, taking your hand and beginning to drag you towards the field.

"I can walk ya know," you muttered, looking at the ground as you walked. Though you wouldn't admit it, you didn't mind him holding your hand. It was warm and sent pleasant shivers down your arms.

Newt either didn't hear you, or ignored your comment, because he only tightened his grip and pulled you along faster. "What's going on in the map room?" you asked, making another attempt to get him talking again.

Newt stopped in his tracks, and you almost ran into him.

"I keep forgetting you know everything about this bloody place," he muttered, then started walking again, like the exchange hadn't even happened. This, of course, only made you more curious, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to aggravate Newt any further. You shuddered, remembering how he yelled at you after your fight with Minho.

"Zart!" Newt called, waving the tall, black-haired guy over. He slung the shovel he was holding over his shoulder and walked to meet you right at the edge of the field.

"Newt," he nodded his greeting. The boy had a droopy face, and his eyes were half-closed, resulting in a kind of bored look.

"Here's the Newbie, as promised." Now, Newt let go of your hand, and you bit back a protest, instead stuffing it into your pocket and turning your full attention to Zart.

"We'll start with some picking," he said, motioning with a nod of his head to a group of wooden trellises stood behind him, covered in thick vines.

"Good that," Newt clapped you on the shoulder, then spun on his heel and began to sprint back towards the Map room.

"Come on," was all Zart said, leading you away towards the garden. You risked one last glance behind you, watching as Newt yanked open the building's metal door, and disappeared inside.

"How much longer?" you called, sticking your shovel in the ground and leaning against it.

"Another hour," the Keeper answered, not looking up from his weeding. You let out a long, exaggerated sigh. Being a Track-hoe definitely wasn't for you.

"Not giving up already, are we Greenie?" a boy called. This was followed by a series of snickers. You gripped the handle of your shovel, and tore it from the ground angrily, sending up a spray of dirt behind you.

The sun beat down on you as you worked, slamming the blade of the shovel into the earth, prying up old, dead plants and weeds, then dumping them in the pile you'd made next to you. Slam. Pry. Dump. Repeat. Slam. Pry. Dump. Repeat.

You paused, dropping your tool to the ground, to peel off the sweat-soaked long sleeve shirt you'd been wearing, and throw it off to the side. The lukewarm air felt like heaven on your skin, and you straightened out your tank top and got back to work.

The hour passed slowly and painfully, but once you'd finally finished, you collapsed, covered head-to-toe in sweat, cringing as you bent your sore back so you could lay down, stomach up, facing the clear, blue sky.

You heard footsteps sound by your head, and you turned to the side a bit to see a pair of brown, worn-out trainers inches from your face.

"Tired?" 

You smiled. "Yeah, well, not all of us can spend every bloody hour of every bloody day in the buggin' field, Newt," you told him, doing your best impression of his accent. The older boy laughed, leaning over you so the afternoon sun lit up his face.

"I take it you didn't enjoy yourself then?"

You shook your head and moved your hands to support the back of your head. "Why don't you rest for a minute?" you offered, gesturing for him to lay down. Newt raised an eyebrow, indicating he was completely opposed to the idea. You sighed impatiently, and reached up to grab the collar of his shirt, effectively pulling him down to his knees. "Come on Newt! You're working constantly! Take a load off for once!"

Reluctantly, Newt rolled over onto his back and rested his head on his hands like you'd done. You heard him let out a long breath. "It's nice, isn't it?" you asked quietly, letting your eyes fall closed, resting one arm over them to block out the sunlight shining through your eyelids.

"It is."

You stayed there for a while, listening to Newt's quiet breathing, the calming bustle of Glader activity. The rustling around you as boys continued to work in the garden.

"How would someone go about becoming a Runner?" you asked suddenly, pushing both arms under you so you could sit up and look at Newt. His head snapped up, his eyes filled with shock.

"Why would you want to know that?" he asked. You wrapped a blade of grass around your finger, ripping it from the ground, then proceeding to shred it into smaller pieces.

"I don't know," you muttered. "It just feels... right."

"You've said that about everything else so far, ya know."

"I know, it's just... I don't even know how to explain it!" It was frustrating, the persistent itch in the back of your mind. You wanted to go into the Maze, and answer some questions for yourself -- you deserved that much. "I think I might find some answers there," you said finally, turning to look Newt square in the eye. "It feels like it's calling me."

Newt's face had twisted into a worried expression. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and his eyes were dark pools like all the happiness had just been sucked out of them.

"It's hard out there," he told you, his gaze hardening. "The paths change, there are Grievers, and Ben... well..."

"He was stung, wasn't he?" You felt a rush of sadness like he'd been your friend or something, though you knew you'd never met before. "In broad daylight."

"We had to banish him..." Newt finished like he hadn't heard you.

"Newt, why don't you let me go out with Minho tomorrow, and I'll see if... I find anything. I know... I feel it -- there's something out there, I just don't know what it is yet."

"(Y/N), it's not that easy. There's a klunk load of dangers out there, not to mention getting back in time before the bloody doors close."

"Just listen to me Newt! I know about the doors and the Grievers. I know I can handle it. All of it."