part i: defense

You're in bad shape, bruising all over your torso, torn knuckles, a bloody nose and your ears are still ringing from all the explosions. Still, you're seething, your fast heart rate only means your blood's still rushing, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Thomas is helping you clean up but you know Alby's ordered him to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don't run off and do something stupid.

Newt's yelling orders at everyone who gets in his line of sight, Gally and a group of other Builders are hauling anything big and heavy enough to use as shields or barricades for the night and Minho's still nowhere to be seen.

You think about how Minho didn't even hesitate to volunteer himself to go into The Maze the moment he stepped out of The Box. You think about how everyone had trust and faith in Minho to lead The Runners. The memory of Minho coming to you and you being the first person he told about The Maze and how to map it. Now, you think about how Minho and the Runners went into The Maze two days ago to look for a way out and how none of them have returned.

Everyone's still reeling from the latest attack, The Glade has always been nightmarish but as you catch your breath and watch your friends running still gathering weapons and shields, you start to feel sick. Something bubbles up in your stomach, you lurch forward and puke out the contents of your stomach, narrowly missing Thomas who had been attending to your injuries.

Thomas gives you a sympathetic look even though you glare at him. You're strong, you can hold your own in a fight but you're not very fast, at least no fast enough to outrun Thomas. With your injuries, there's no way you'd get away from Thomas.

"I have to find Minho." Your voice comes out coarse and you have to cough, causing the pain around your ribs to flare. You try to stand but Thomas puts his hands on your shoulders and he doesn't even need to use his strength to push you back down.

For the first time in the years you've spent in The Glade, you feel weak and helpless. It's like your body has finally had enough, telling you to give up.

"He'll be back. He always comes back. We have to believe he'll get us out of this mess." Thomas tells you but from the way his eyes dart towards the far edge of The Glade, you know it's himself he's trying to convince.

You shake your head.

"No. I'm not going to sit here until they pick us off one by one. Whoever is on the outside of this thing, they've decided this is it. We have to decide too. It's now or never." Minho stands tall in the center of The Homestead where Alby had called a Gathering, the day after the first attack. He makes eye contact with you and it's like seeing him for the first time. He's defiant and determined, you'd always known.

Minho's unwavering confidence in himself, in others, in you had always been something you'd admired. It was time to return that confidence.

You stand up in the crowd, still holding Minho's gaze as you throw your fist up in the air and yell in support of his plan, the rest of The Gathering following suit.

"Thomas is right," Newt appears, bringing you back to present time. He's sweaty and looks worse than you do. He's shaking his head as he takes in the damage. You're about to refute, but Newt continues,

"So is (y/n). Minho was right too; we won't sit here and wait till there's none of us left." 

to be continued...

A/N: hello friends ♡ thank you to everyone who's been voting and commenting! Means the world to me. I hope everyone has been well, wherever you are, i hope you're staying warm or keeping cool! also, the mandalorian, anyone?