Maze Runner Imagines and Preferences

Punishment -- Thomas

*your perspective*

"Greenie," I squat down outside the slammer, resting one arm on the hashed pieces of wood that serve as a door, "you sure know how to get in trouble."

"I saved Alby's life," Thomas slumps in one corner of the dug-out prison, picking at his shirt hem.

"Yeah," I sit down with a groan, my back stiff from working in the gardens all day, "I know, but you also broke a rule."

"Thought you were on my side," he grumbles.

"Look," I draw small circles in the dusty ground, the dirt caking my fingernails black, "it's not about sides, it's the fact that yeah, you saved Alby's life, but you also went out in the Maze at night, as well as not being a runner."

"Guess you're right," he says gloomily, "but the look on your face when the doors started closing..."

I don't exactly have anything to say to that, so I just continue with my dirt circles.

"I'll get you dinner," I say eventually, getting up to go.

"Thanks, (Y/N)," he gives me a small smile.

I wander over to the kitchen, thinking about Thomas. I can't quite decide if he's brave, or just really stupid. The problem is, I really like him. I don't even know him properly, and I already feel like there's a connection between us. When he ran into the Maze...

"Come to get the Greenie's food?" Frypan snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah," I smile, "what's he getting?"

"Alby said just a bit of bread and some water," Frypan hands me two slices of the stuff and a cup, which I take.

"Can I have some dinner too?" I ask hopefully, eyeing the pot of stew on the stove. It smells amazing.

Wordlessly, Frypan hands me a bowl of it, steam rising off the contents.

"Thanks," I grab a fork, then on second thoughts take another. I can share my stew with Thomas.

 

"What's on the menu?" He asks when I return, getting up and moving closer to the door.

"For you," I say, "bread and water. For me," I grin, "Frypan's stew."

"So you're just gonna sit there and eat a delicious hot dinner and I'm left with a piece of bread?"

"Two pieces of bread, to be precise."

"Whatever," he grumbles, and I laugh.

"Dude," I say, "I'm just joking. I was gonna share my food with you anyway."

"Aw, you're the best!" He grins, and I feel my heart flutter a little. Stupid organ.

"I know," I joke, pushing the bowl towards the gap in the slammer door and handing him his cup of water, one of the pieces of bread, a fork, and his cup of water.

We eat in silence, it's sort of hard because Thomas has to reach up a fair way and get his mouthfuls through the door, but we manage with minimal spills.

"Thanks, (Y/N)," he says when we're done, smiling up at me.

"No drama," I get up, taking the cutlery with me, "I should head off."

"Yeah," he says, "goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Thomas."

I lie awake for ages. I feel bad for Thomas, so far away from everyone else and with no blanket.

Eventually, I get up, taking my blanket with me and collecting his on the way, making my way through the dark to the Slammer.

"(Y/N)?" he asks as I set down my blanket beside the door, "Is that you?" 

"Yeah," I feed his blanket through a gap, shoving it roughly onto the floor of the dug-out prison.

"What are you doing here?" he looks confused, the moonlight casting odd shadows across his face.

"Came to keep you company, and bring you a blanket." I smile, lying down on the ground.

"Thanks," he still sounds uncertain, but isn't complaining.

"No problem."

We end up talking for ages, and at some point I slip my hand through a gap at the bottom of the grated door. Thomas takes it, holding it tight in his much larger one.

I don't know what time it is, but eventually I feel my eyes get heavy.

"I really like you," I mumble, squeezing his hand in mine.

"I like you too, (Y/N)," he says after a pause.

"Be my boyfriend?" Some part of my brain is screaming at me that he doesn't feel that way about me, that we're just friends. But I ask him anyway.

"Yeah," he says, then kisses my hand.