Running into grievers was becoming more common. It seemed the farther they explored into the maze, the more grievers they were crossing paths with. Usually, the pair of runners could sneak away before even being noticed—but today didn't end that way.

They'd managed to fight it off, but weren't getting away unscathed. Minho got away with a few surface wounds, ones that would hardly need treating. Y/N wasn't so lucky. The griever had thrown her, leaving her with raw skin on protruding parts of her body. It caught her arm with its blade.

Y/N just wanted to get back to the Glade. She hurt all over and found it hard to run at a steady pace. Her body was exhausted from the fight but was equally as torn apart with emotion. How long could they keep doing this? One day, one of them was going to get seriously hurt or worse. Minho eyed her worriedly, seeing the blood that soaked her shirt.

"You alright?" He nudged her with his arm as they ran.

Y/N found it hard to look at him in the moment. She was trying to resolve some things in her own mind. Was she afraid of going into the maze everyday with the chance of facing the grievers? Or was what she really feared was losing Minho? "Yeah. Are you?"

Minho half shrugged. His mind was obviously clouded with something as well but wasn't willing to let it go. Their run back was quick and uncomfortable. Back in the maproom, they went about their regular end of the day routine. Checking over maps, adding new details, losing a little bit of hope. Not able to focus though, Y/N got up and threw her papers together in a lazy pile. She kicked off her shoes and discard them in a corner of the maproom along with her running pack.

"I'm going to go see if Newt or Fry needs help with dinner." The girl tried to explain as she went for the door. Minho could see right through that false confidence. Today had shaken her up.

"Ok," He lift himself from his elbows to his hands on the table. "Go check on your arm too. See you at dinner?"

The girl nod weakly and then disappeared out the door. Minho was worried. But, he wasn't just going to go chasing after her, begging she explain what was going on. As it seemed, she needed some time to get her thoughts back in line. Except, maybe following after her is what he needed to do. Minho grunt and tried to focus back on the maze.

"Woah," Newt reached out his arms carefully like he was trying to slow a raging fire. "You alright, love?"

The girl looked frantic. Y/N was a runner, she saw things in the maze some of the boys here in the Glade never would and yet she always seemed so calm. Something had happened today. "Is Minho alright?" Newt asked, seeing as Y/N wasn't going to start saying things on her own.

The girl nod, which earned a sigh of relief from Newt. Both of his runners were back safe and that was what mattered. What he didn't understand was Y/N's sudden change in demeanour. Quickly, he scanned around to see if anyone was watching. When he noticed everyone within eyesight was occupied, he pulled the girl into the edge of the deadheads.

When he released her arm gently, he saw blood on his hand. He examined where he'd held her and furrows his brows. "What the hell happened out there?"

Y/N flinched a little when Newt once again held her arm and pushed back the fabric to see the wound on her arm. It was going to have to be treated right away. Newt looked up and met her eyes.

"Grievers again." She croaked. "We got away, but—I don't know how long we can keep doing this. There's more and more every week. Someday, something is going to happen to him."

"You're worried about Minho?" Newt asked. "Where is he?"

"Maproom." Y/N said.

Newt huffed. He was a little less than impressed Minho had left his running partner in a frenzy to go off on her own after both of them had nearly died. Typical Minho. It wasn't that Minho didn't care, he just wasn't the best at acting on what he knew was right. Newt knew Minho was well aware Y/N was in just as much distress as he was, but he was afraid to say or do anything about it.

"Alright," Newt gave the girls hand a squeeze and then let go. "You go to the medjacks and get cleaned up, alright? If you need any help, let me know."

"Cover for me?" Y/N asked. "If Minho asks, I'm resting or something."

"Yeah, you got it." He gently turned her around with a hand on the shoulder and shooed her off in the direction of the medjacks.

Minho felt like something was trying to crawl out of his guts. He knew he'd made the wrong choice letting Y/N leave alone when something was obviously wrong. Hell, he wasn't even okay. He was just trying really hard to stuff it down. He should have known she was hurt today but wasn't telling him.

If nothing else, he should have been more worried when she discard those shoes and her running pack on the floor so carelessly. Minho pushed off of the table and reached down for her pack, picking it up and looking it over carefully. He walked it over to its rightful place on the wall, beside his, and he felt his chest tighten. He remembered the day she'd finally gotten the running pack and how her smile had never left her face. Where was it now? Even on the worst of days her face was always bright. Something obviously wasn't right.

"Shit," Minho muttered to himself. How'd he let this fly over his head?

The maproom door flew open as Minho sprint out. He ran for the open Glade to escape the trees closing him in. When he made it out of the woods, he slowed and scanned around. Oh how he could only imagine Newt storming toward him with a furious look on his face because he'd already found Y/N upset and alone with Minho nowhere to be found.

Wait. That was Newt. Minho wasn't imagining him.

"Minho, you shank." Newt scowled. "You two faced a literal bloody nightmare and you're gonna leave her to wander off on her own like that? Now I understand both of you needing some time and rest—but c'mon."

Minho sighed and crossed his arms. "Where is she? You obviously know."

Newt faltered a little. Part of him was hoping Minho would break down in apology. But no. Of course not. He had to have that stupid little smirk that compensated for his total lack of confidence in the moment, masking any other emotion. "She's resting."

"Hmmm," Minho looked over Newt's shoulder and then back to the blonde. "Why's her hammock empty then?"

Newt felt his face heating up but he held firm where he stood. "Fine. She's in the medjacks."

Minho raised his brows and then released his arms, ready to bound off. Before he could though, Newt grabbed his arm. He held the runner back and Minho didn't try to pull away.

"It's getting bad in the maze, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Minho avoided his friends eyes. "I have an idea though. Something that might help after today. You in?"

Newt nod. He listened carefully to Minho's plan. Which, honestly, took him aback a little. It also saddened Newt to know how many thoughtful ideas Minho had but mostly kept locked away in his head.

Sincerely, Newt shook Minho's arm a little to bring him back to his senes. "It'll be ready by the time you're back."

Minho looked up and nod thankfully. Before Newt could ever be given the chance to get a glimpse of the emotions he already knew Minho had boiling under the surface, he sprint off once again in typical fashion.

The runner slowed as he came closer to the now dimly lit medjack hut. From inside, he could hear shuffling around. He didn't hear Clint or Jeff which meant Y/N had to be alone in there.

Stepping inside quietly, Minho immediately found her sitting slouched on a stool with supplies laid out across the cot. She'd taken off her normal shirt, which Minho now assumed was soaking in the bucket of water on the floor. The shirt was replaced by...well, his old one. It was worn out and sun bleached, but the t-shirt still held its slight blue tinge.

That was when he finally got a glimpse of what the maze had done to her today. With her pants rolled up past her knees, he could see all the scapes and bruises. The large gash on her arm she was now trying to stitch up all on her own with a grimace on her face.

"You said you were okay." Minho approached from behind and sat on the opposite side of the cot from her.

The girl acknowledged him with a hardly noticeable smile but looked back to what she was doing quickly. "I am."

Minho sighed and picked up a cold cloth to clean up some of his own scrapes from the day. "Says the person stitching up her own arm." He raised his brows at the surprisingly good job she was doing.

"...Says the person who left her running pack on the floor."

Y/N froze and looked up. She knew Minho knew how much that pack meant to her. It was the one thing that first made her actually feel like she was actually a part of the Glade. To have tossed it aside was a sign in itself she wasn't doing well.

"I'm sorry—" Y/N bit her lip. "I just—Minho, what if something happens?"

"To you?" He asked.

"To you. To either of us?" Y/N corrected. "We'd be leaving so many people behind. And there isn't exactly anyone else here who's willing to become a runner. They'd lose hope."

Minho felt the same way. He thought the same things. There were a million things he could respond with, but instead, he opt to work away at his own injuries in silence with her. Once it seemed they were both patched up as well as they could be, Minho helped pack away the supplies and looked to Y/N.

"We'll figure something out." He said confidently. "But for the time being, we have somewhere else to be."

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked tiredly. "Is Alby mad?"

"Nah," Minho crossed his arms. "He might be mad when he finds out we all slept in the council hall, but..." He brandished a mischievous look on his face with a raised brow.

Y/N looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"C'mon," Minho led the way out of the medjack hut with Y/N behind. He didn't speak or explain anything. Luckily, that was less because he was refusing to answer questions and more because she quietly followed him without second guessing anything.

When the pair entered the council hall, Y/N was met with a group of her closets friends all scattered around, setting up makeshift beds wherever they could. They laughed and smiled and it took a moment for things to quiet down once they noticed the runners had arrived.

"If there's one thing we've figured out over the years, it's that with company, the nightmares aren't so bad." Newt explained. "Back in the earlier days, a few of us would stay up talking until we passed out. On those nights? No nightmares."

"It's true." Gally reluctantly admit. "Especially after I was stung."

Y/N had always known her friends were good and kind. She knew they had been through a lot, even before she arrived int he Glade not much longer after them. And through she knew they were fully capable of banding together like this to help one another, she never expected it to happen. Since the Glade had reached over nearly forty boys now, she thought that strong friendship amongst the keepers had sort of faded. But tonight, she was proven otherwise.

Here was Newt, Gally, Minho, Winston, Frypan, Zart and Clint. All more than happy to be here in the moment to support their friends.

"Who wants snacks?" Frypan peeked out from behind the shoulders of his friends and smiled wide. Minho didn't hesitate before bounding at Frypan. He was starving.