~~~Author's Notes~~~

Well, look who it finally is!!! @ me. But hi!!!! I've missed you guys so much, I've miss writing so much, but I've really been growing and changing as a person lately and I just couldn't find the time to write this story. It's been a weird few weeks, haha. I hope all is well on Wattpad still?

ALL IS DEFINITELY WELL WITH TO LOVE, WE GOT 250K+ READS LAST WEEK!!!???!!! AND TO LOVE IS CURRENTLY #334 IN FANFICTION ON WATTPAD?!!! I ALMOST CRIED!! It was #131 last night!!

But back to this update, It's totally different than anything I've ever written before. I introduce a new Pov that you won't see often, but every once and a while it'll pop up. I really feel like it'll give you guys a look into who Newt was and how his life was before the maze (through my eyes in my fanfic.) Whether you like the character or not, I'm really trying hard to shed sympathy and understanding onto the 'bad' people in the maze runner series. This is all just setting up for my second and third books.

~~~~~

*Time: A Very Long Time Ago, Long Before The Maze*

~~~Janson's Pov~~~

The top of the newspaper read 'World In Catastrophe Needs Your Help.'

"You aren't still reading that stupid article are you?" Anna asked, disapprovingly from the kitchen as she cooked dinner.

"No," I lied, my eyes reading over the words for about the thirtieth time.

A cure. Guaranteed safety. Become a hero. All adults with a degree in medicine.

"You can't leave us, Janson," My wife poked her head into the room to look at me.

She's right, I couldn't.

"I know," I said, bringing a hand up to my face.

"It seems like the right choice, to work for that company, but you have a family that needs you. And more importantly, one that needs your steady income. You have a daughter on the way, don't forget."

I couldn't just leave, but I had to.

"I know. It's just that you aren't immune, I'm not immune, and our son isn't immune. How can we expect our daughter to be immune?"

"We can't, but there's always hope," Anna sighed.

Truth was, that I had been eyeing this article in the newspaper for the past two weeks. Apparently, either all of the staff in this big company had died or been fired due to a breach in the buildings air system. Now, they needed a new staff team and interviewers were coming to my city tomorrow.

Millions were going to try for a position, because of the guaranteed securities having a government job would include. But how was I going to make the cut?

I'd studied here in the United States and I'd studied abroad in the United Kingdom. That right there in this day and age was enough to secure me a spot. If I could get into this program, so many great things would happen. A cure for the flare could be found. And my children and I could all be brought into a safe place from the disease.

Because even though they wanted working adults, they also wanted super children.

"Janson, are you even listening to me?"

"No," I answered, honestly, as I took a drink from my glass.

Only thing wrong with me in the eyes of this company, could be the fact that I couldn't go twenty four hours without drinking.

"I can't believe you're seriously thinking about leaving! What about me! What about the children! Bloody hell, can you please think about us for once?" Anna shouted, as I chugged the remainder of my drink.

"If I were to leave, then there would be no way you could stop me," I breathed, preparing myself for another fight.

"For the love of- is there ever a day when you won't just live in reality. This is our world. Diseased and dying. Stop trying to fix it-"

"Like I always say, we should have just stayed in London," I groaned, thinking about how different things could have been if we'd stayed there. But no, Anna wanted to 'see the world' and 'try something new' in the 'land of opportunity.'

"The disease would have eventually traveled to England."

"I'd rather die later than now."

"You're the most negative person in the whole world," Anna huffed, as she made herself tea in the kitchen.

"England was so much better. Why do you think I moved there in the first place?" I asked, feeling a bit off.

"I don't care. We're here and that's all that matters! I'm done having this argument," She paused.

"Leaving is my only choice," I muttered.

"If you love me, you'll stay."

"Love has nothing to do with it," I had to leave.

"It never has," Anna shouted, now fully in the living room with me, "When was the last time you even said that you loved me?"

"Love is a void emotion that the mind makes up, in order to compensate the aching loneliness that resonates in the soul of every human being alive," I sighed, twisting my wedding band around my finger, "Love isn't real."

"Then why am I here?" Anna asked, tears in her eyes.

I looked up to the ceiling, "Why are any of us here?"

"Don't turn this argument into a declaration of your own existential crisis, I need you here, in this house."

"Do you really?"

"And you know who else needs you? Our son. You can't just leave him," She let a sob out, "If you don't love me, you must at least care for him."

"I don't care for anyone," I sighed, my heart beating quickly.

"Oh, that's right, you, the drunk, can't grow up enough to love someone other than yourself!"

"Dad," My now three year old son's voice whimpered from the stairs that led up to the second floor of our house.

Anna and I both turned towards him, our argument ceasing. He held a stuffed bear in one of his hands and a blanket in the other.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his mouth barely moving.

I flicked my eyes over to Anna, who gave me an expectant look, her hands resting on her bulging stomach.

"Y-you can't leave," He stuttered, his accented voice, clearly prominent.

I threw the newspaper onto the couch, beside where I'd been sitting and walked over to my son, "We'll talk upstairs. Go to your room, I'll be up in a minute."

"I don't know what you think you're going to say to him, but tell him the truth. He's too young to know the heartbreak of your lies."

"Bitterness isn't very attractive."

"Neither are slurred words," Anna said, equally as frustrated as I was, "Forget my tea, I'm going to bed. I expect to see you in the morning."

"Expectations only lead to disappointment," I mumbled, but I'm pretty sure she was already too far away to hear me.

I walked upstairs and down the hallway to my son's bedroom. I pushed open the door, to find him already sitting underneath his blankets in bed, his hands folded in his lap.

"Why are you leaving?" He asked, not giving me much time to skirt around the issue.

I took a deep breath remembering the new parenting technique Anna wanted to try out with our kid. You basically ask them what they think, before you tell them what to think. I don't know, it's sounds like a bunch of crap to me.

"What did you hear?" I asked, trying to at least test this thing.

"I heard you say you wanted to go away, but mum said no," He said, furrowing his eyebrows, "How long are you leaving for?"

"How long do you want me gone for?" I asked, wanting to roll my eyes. How does this get any of us anywhere? I don't have time to have a prolonged conversation where we practically play twenty-questions.

"I want you to stay," He pushed out his bottom lip, giving me a whiny look.

"I'm not leaving," I lied through my teeth, "It was just an idea."

"You promise?" I looked at my son, his blonde hair was already growing long over his ears.

"I promise," I said, the words catching in my throat.

"And you promise you'll wake me up tomorrow so that we can go for a walk together?" He asked, laying his head on his pillow.

"Yah, sure fine," I whispered, suddenly feeling as though I was making an awful decision, "I have to go."

"Wait," He shouted, reaching for my arm, but I had already moved from off of his bed, my back to him, "I love you."

When he said this, my heart almost stopped. Had I not been a bit off from the strong drink, I would have started sobbing right on the spot. But I only muttered a quick, "Goodbye," Before pulling his door closed behind me.

I was never one to throw the love word around lightly.

~~~~

~The Morning After~

~~~Third Person Pov~~~

Newt, then, not actually Newt, slid his arms, underneath his pillow, his head barely lifting off of the bed. He breathed heavily in and out, feeling his chest expand and contract against the mattress he lied on. He opened his eyes, just enough to know that it was a gorgeous day, as the sun was causing his normally opaque curtains to become somewhat transparent.

'What time is it?' He wanted to ask, but thought better of it since no one was around.

Newt was young, only three, but he was smart, smarter than anyone his age. He was even signed up to begin Pre-K at the start of autumn.

So Newt knew something was very wrong, when he rolled over to see that his digital clock read '1:03' and no this was not one in the morning. He knew little about the concept of time, but he knew that it was not normal for him to wake up this late.

'You promise to wake me up early so that we can go for a walk together?' He'd asked his father last night.

'Yah, sure,' Newt remembers him answering.

So why hadn't Newt been woken up?

And even if his father had decided not to wake him, surely his mum would have called him to breakfast.

Newt pushed the covers off of his body, sliding off the bed until his feet hit the ground.

"Mum?" He asked, as he stepped into the hallway.

No noises could be heard. So he walked a little farther, peaking into his parents bedroom as he passed by it.

"Mummy?" Newt asked again, hearing a sniffle from behind the slightly open door.

Newt pushed against it, until the opening was wide enough for him to slip through.

Inside the room, the bed covers were tossed into a mess, and Newt's mother was kneeling on the ground, clearly crying.

"Mum?" Newt asked, feeling as though he wasn't meant to be here. Not right now anyway. Not with his mother sobbing on the floor.

Why was she so sad? What had caused Anna to be so emotionally distraught for her to not even see her son enter the room?

The sight made, the then innocent to sorrow, Newt want to cry also. He rarely saw either of his parents cry. So he knew that something really bad had happened.

Newt didn't know what to say, for he didn't have the words in his vocabulary yet, to explain the scene before him.

He caught sight of a folded piece of paper in his shaking mothers hands. Newt couldn't read at the time and had no idea what the words written on that note said. How heartbreakingly awful they'd been.

And when Newt grew older, and learned to read, Anna had long since then torn the letter to shreds. Even with the note gone, Anna's heart ached at the words that had become engraved in her memory. Her husband had left her with nothing more than a note to remember him by.

Newt's mother raised her head, as Newt moved closer to her crying figure, "Love," She whispered, as she caught Newt's eye.

The look in them set a new emotion free in young Newt's heart: anger. Newt was angry at whoever caused his mother this pain. He wanted his mum to always be happy.

This wasn't happy, even a three year old knew that.

"Come here," Anna said, placing the paper on the ground, her arms reaching out for Newt. Newt ran to his mother's open embrace. She pulled Newt closer, her hand in his hair. She sniffled, before she said, "It-it's just gonna be me and you, okay?"

Newt nodded into her shoulder, even though he didn't understand what any of this meant.

"Us two and the baby. I love you so much. And things just got really hard for us, but I'm gonna give you better- No, I'm gonna give you the best," And here the pair sat, huddled on the floor, one of them crying at the great loss of a love, and the other, teary eyed at the great losses he knew not that he would soon lose.

~~~~

~Current Time In The Maze~

~~~Newts Pov~~~

I tapped on Thomas's shoulder hoping that that small push would be enough to wake him.

For the first time since he'd arrived, it was.

"Get up, ya' lug," I exhaled, seeing him open his eyes.

"Good morning to you, too," Thomas greeted, sarcastically, his voice scratchy, "What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock, Greenie," I gave him a fake smile, "Figured I'd let you sleep in, after having a couple of rough days."

"Sleep in?" Thomas exasperated, as he sat up, "What are you guys, a bunch of farmers?"

"Something like that," Then I remembered, "Now that you've mentioned the word 'farming,' I'm gonna put ya' with the Track hoes, Greenie. And don't worry, all of the actual hoes don't work with them anymore," I plopped down so that I was sitting next to Thomas. He clearly didn't get my joke, but I mean, how could he. I couldn't explain to him how annoying Amelia had been and it's not like he'd ever understand anyway, "And, I think you'll like this a lot more than cuttin' up bloody piggies like you did the other day."

"Aren't you supposed to stop calling me that?" Thomas asked, giving me an annoyed look.

"What, bloody piggies?" I asked, laughing.

Thomas forced a laugh and said, "No, Greenie. I'm not the newest newbie anymore, so quit calling me that. My name's Thomas."

I leaned back on my heels, my eyebrows raising, "Well cool, you grew a pair over night, didn't ya'?"

Once again, the Greenie- I mean- Thomas ignored my jokes, "Whats a Track-hoe?"

"It's what we call the kids who work in the gardens."

"Who's the Keeper?" He asked.

"Zart. He's nice, as long as you don't slack on the job. He's the big one that stood in front last night at the banishing."

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds and I knew that Thomas was thinking about Ben, "So why'd you come wake me up?"

"Why, you don't like seeing my face first thing in the morning?" I chuckled.

"Not especially so," Thomas answered, but he trailed off as his eyes fell on Minho, who'd just picked up the collar, Ben had been wearing, at the maze door. Thomas turned back to me, "What the-"

"I've only seen three Banishings, well four, if you count Brianne's, but I don't-"

"Brianne was banished?! But she lived?"

"No, no, she was almost banished- I'm not telling you the story. Anyway, I've seen three and every time the Grievers leave that collar on our doorstep. Creeps me out."

"What do they do with the people when they catch them?" Thomas asked, his face white.

I shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. But honestly, I just didn't want to talk to him about the Banishings. Thinking about them, made me think about everything that happened with Gally and Kat.

"So, tell me about the Runners," Thomas said, trying to find out information, most likely.

But why?

I turned, a bit confused, "The Runners? Why?"

"Just wondering," He shrugged.

I gave him a suspicious look, "Best of the best, Runners have to be. Everything depends on them," I picked up a rock and tossed it, watching intently as it bounced away from me.

And then Thomas's next question really pissed me off, "Why aren't you one?"

I know that he meant well, but it really irked me. I mean, he was basically calling me 'the best of the best', but hearing that question made me angry.

Like what do I say?

I wanted to lie and say that I had just never been interested, but I couldn't, "Was 'til I hurt my leg not too long ago," My hand traveled down to my right ankle. I ran my fingers over the still not fully healed skin, wincing not necessarily at the physical pain, but the mental pain.

And then he asked, "How'd you do it?"

Don't panic. It's okay, just lie.

"Runnin' from the buggin' grievers, what else? They almost got me too," I paused, what the heck was I talking about, "Still gives me the chills, thinking that I almost could have gone through the changing."

Now I just have to remember this crappy story, so that if Thomas asks again, I can say the same thing.

"What is it, anyway, the changing? Is everyone as crazy as Ben?"

"Ben was by far the worst, but I thought you wanted to talk about the Runners," I let my tone hint to Thomas that talking about the changing wasn't something I wanted to do.

"Okay, sorry, I'm listening," Thomas said, sheepishly.

"Like I said best of the best-"

"So what do you do? Test everybody to see how fast they are?"

Memories of Nick forcing Brianne into taking 'a runners test' flash through my mind. I almost laugh, but I also almost want to go back and punch Nick in the face.

I groaned, giving Thomas an awful look, "Smarten up, Greenie- Tommy- whatever you want to be called-"

"Thomas, that's what I want to be called," Thomas answered, but didn't really answer because I didn't ask a question.

"Like I said: Tommy," For some reason my mind ached at this conversation and I felt as though I'd had it before, "How fast you can run is only part of it. A very small part actually."

"What do you mean?"

"You have to be great at everything. To survive the maze, you've gotta be smart, quick, and strong. You've gotta make decisions and know just the right amount of risk to take. Can't be too reckless, but you can't be timid either," After saying this, I leaned back on my hands, relaxing, "It's bloody awful out there, ya' know? I don't miss it one bit."

It was true, I don't miss running in circles day after day. I don't miss being exhausted every second of every day. I don't miss the hopeless feeling of finding no exit after two years of trying. I don't miss being alone for most of my days. I don't miss the hollow echo of my feet hitting the concrete ground as the noise bounced off of the maze walls. I don't miss the migraines that came from having to remember every step and every turn that I took, because my life literally depended on it. I miss none of it.

"I thought the Grievers only came out at night."

"Yeah, usually," This made me think of the fact that Minho had found a dead griever in one of the maze corridors yesterday.

"Then what's so terrible out there?" Thomas asked, clearly oblivious to what the Runners actually do.

I sighed, annoyed that I had to explain myself, "Pressure. Stress. Maze changes every day. You have to worry about the maps. If you make one mistake then you could be spending a night with the vicious beasts. There's no room for dummies or brats in the maze," And then it hit me: why the heck did Thomas care so much, "Why all the interest?"

Thomas hesitated, before he said, "I want to be a runner."

I turned to look at him, right in the eye, "Haven't been here a week, shank. Isn't it a little early for death wishes?"

I wanted to laugh, but decided better of it.

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Forget it, that dream. No one's ever become a runner in their first month. You've got a lot of proving to do before I can even recommend you to the Keeper."

"Newt, I mean it. I can't pull weeds all day. My gut is telling me that I'm meant to be a runner. I can do it."

"No one said that you couldn't. But just give it a rest for now."

"But-"

And then I snapped just a little bit- "Listen, trust me on this, Tommy. If you go stomping around this place talking about how you're too good to work like a peasant, how you're ready to be a runner, you'll make more enemies than friends. Drop it for now."

"Fine, I'll go talk to Minho," Thomas huffed and I almost had a mental breakdown.

"Nice try. The Council elects Runners and if you think I'm tough, they'll laugh in your face."

What was wrong with this kid? I'm just trying to help him out.

I started talking again before Thomas could say anything, "You better stop this nonsense, before others hear it. Our whole existence depends on things working and things don't work the way you want them to," I paused, "Order. You say that word over and over in your head. Reason we're all sane around here is because we work and maintain order. Last thing we need is you screwing that order up."

"Yeah," Was all that Thomas said in reply.

"Lets make a deal, okay?"

"What?" Thomas asked, his spirits seeming to lift.

"You keep your mouth shut and I'll put you on the list for potential trainees. Don't keep your trap shut and I'll see to it that you never step foot in that maze. Deal?"

"That's a sucky deal."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Deal."

"That's what I thought," And with that we walked off to the kitchen for breakfast, all talk of the runners ceasing.

~~~~~

~~~Author's Notes and Important Question~~~

Hey guys!! I hope with all of my heart that this chapter makes sense. It's very pivotal for the foundation of this fanfic. I'm also loving the Pov's in this chapter. Quite a lot of Newt, and I'm liking it. I kinda didn't feel like writing Brianne's view this time around so tell me what you think. I'm always open to comments and questions and such.

BTW QUESTION TIME: I'm making a new playlist and I want song suggestions and who better to ask than you guys? So thank you to the person who gave me this idea! trintrinny So leave some songs in the comments and I'll listen to them all and pick a few! (All genres are welcome, I'm easy with music)

Alright that's it for now, thank you for the support I love you guys so much. Byyye!!