One Of Us - A Gally, Maze Runner Fan Fiction

Chapter 2 - Clean

Song - 505 (Arctic Monkeys)

"You can call me Mr Janson. I run this place" Janson announced as he waltzed through a level of the building that was under construction. The sound of drills screeched in the room and random sparks from metal rained down on us like snow.

"For us, it is a sanctuary. Safe from the horrors of the outside world," He continued. I stuck close to the boys while taking in my surroundings. 

"You should all think of it as a way station. Kind of a home between homes. Watch yourselves," He instructed as we walked under a man cutting into a metal beam, sending sparks flying in every direction.

"That means you're taking us home?" Thomas asked. Janson looked over his shoulder at the boy.

"A home of sorts...Sadly there wouldn't be much left of wherever you came from,"

It was a stab in the gut. Some part of me had hoped with all my heart that somehow my home,  my parents, or any family might be out there somewhere, waiting for me to return. But that's not going to happen.

"But we do have a place for you, a refuge, outside the scorch where WICKED will never find you again. How does that sound?"

I raised my eyebrows. Sounds a bit too good to be true. I looked at Minho. He seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Why are you helping us?" He questioned as we turned a corner.

Janson chuckled.

"Let's just say the world out there is in a rather precarious situation. We're all hanging on by a very thin thread. The fact that you kids can survive the flare virus makes you the best chance of humanity's continued survival. Unfortunately, it also makes you a target as no doubt by now you've noticed,"

I swallowed as I thought about what it took to get here in the first place. I never had thought how big of a target we were. Janson stopped before a set of double doors. He swiped some sort of key card along a machine, and it beeped and opened.

"Beyond this door lies the beginning of your new lives. First things first, let's do something about that smell," he suggested while smirking at us.

We came to a door at the end of the corridor. I felt someone roughly grasp my shoulder and steer me away from the group. Another man in uniform.

"Hey, hey!" Thomas yelled while he, Minho, and Newt all squared up the soldier.

"Where are you taking her?" Newt growled.

"That, is the boy's showers kid... girls are down the hall," He rebutted while starting to walk down the hall again, pulling me along. I yanked back my shoulder from his grasp.

"She stays with us," Minho hissed. Janson breezed past the boys and put his hand on my shoulder making me flinch.

"Sorry boys, house rules... She'll be fine, you'll see each other in a bit,"

The boys didn't look convinced, but I nodded. The soldier motioned his head, and I followed him down the hall. I turned back and the boys were still trailing my movements with their eyes.

"I'll be fine," I mouthed before facing forward. The man led me to another identical door and opened it for me.

I stepped inside. I heard the click behind me and pivoted to see the door firmly shut... and locked.

Strange.

I ignored the growing funny feeling in my stomach.  I took in the room before me. White, pristine tiles covering every inch. Around ten cubicles lined up on the left, and a row of sinks on the other. A long metal bench ran through the middle and on it lay stacks of towels, clothes, and shower things. I ran my fingertips over the soft materials. The feeling foreign to my skin. I looked up at the mirror. What I was met with was... a stranger. Alien.

Me.

I stared at my reflection and lifted my hand to my skin, just to make sure that truly was my reflection. The image mirrored my movements as I expected. I let out a sharp breath. I think this was the first time I saw me.

Blonde hair in tangles fell messily onto my shoulders, reminding me of Newt's mop of hair. Scratches and bruises covered my face and arms like tattoos. My face was sharp and angular. Or perhaps just hollow after days without a proper meal. I had no clue. Hazel brown eyes stared back at me. The girl I stared at... was me.

I felt the silence in the room as I just stared at my reflection, and I realized... this was the first time I was alone -properly alone- in a long time. I didn't like it.

I showered slowly, letting the water run down my spine, warming my core. It trickled down my legs and I stared at the puddle at my feet. A red tinge. Whose blood it was... I couldn't be certain.

I dressed in clean clothes; I was hoping for more practical options but was disappointed to find nothing of the sort. I eventually opted for a cotton t-shirt, tracksuit pants, and my black boots. My shoes still seemed to be in good shape anyway. I transferred my knife, lighter, and compass from my cargos to my new pocket.

It took me twenty minutes to brush my hair out. And it hurt. But once I'd finally gotten my birds' nest in order, I looked like a different person. The blood on my face and hands gone. Dirt stains washed out. Clean. Smooth. Different. 

Another soldier led me to the medical wing I was relieved to be met with all the boys. They too, looked relieved to see me. They all sat in different wings and as I walked past each of them, Newt chuckled,

"You look different," he joked.

I stared back at him, noticing the way his mop had been put under control and the deep cuts on his face had been cleaned and tended to. Fresh clothes and shoes as well. No more of the ragged material I remembered. I smiled weakly at his attempt at humor.

"So do you," I murmured before the soldier directed me to a hospital bed and instructed me to sit and wait. I did so. Watching Minho on the treadmill.

That boy could never stop.

Thomas and I caught eyes and he gave me a reassuring nod, I pushed a smile on my lips. Just as a woman stepped in front of me.

"You must be Eleanor,"

I nodded slowly.

"I'm Dr Crawford," she introduced herself while closing the curtains around me. Blocking my vision of the boys. She had darker skin, and brown curly hair pulled back into a controlled bun. She had the most perfect posture I had ever seen and had a regal way about her. She looked smart. And sharp. 

"You seemed to be in pretty bad shape when you got here... thankfully a shower and some food did you some good but we still have a lot to do," she explained while bustling around the makeshift room, grabbing vials, tools, and an assortment of other things.

"But first... what do you remember from before the maze?"

I swallowed.