Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Metal rattled and scraped against the concrete walls as the elevator shaft moved up, sending the boy hurling forward. He felt bile rise up from his stomach and it wasn’t long before his throat burned as he vomited, watching it fall through the bars and into the abyss.

He was drenched from head to toe in sweat. It was sweltering in the box– at least he thought it was a box, he wasn’t sure. It sure felt like one, considering his claustrophobia was kicking in every second he was trapped inside. 

It seemed as though the elevator ride stretched on forever. The boy wasn’t sure how long he was in there for, it felt like hours but for all he knew, it could've been minutes, or even seconds.

Hours? Minutes? Seconds? How did he know what those were? How did he know what those things were but not his own name? 

Realization hit him like an anvil. His name. He couldn’t even remember his own name.

Panic began to bubble up in his chest as he blindly flailed his hands around, trying to grab hold of something– anything to ground himself. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. He couldn’t breathe. It was too stuffy. Too hot. Too much.

He felt the telltale signs of vomit rising again and he prepared himself for the worst. He could still taste the previous bile rotting in his mouth, a repulsive flavor in his humble opinion. 

His heart pounded and rammed against his chest like a wild animal as he hurled once again, trembling on his hands and knees, hacking in pain and discomfort. It seemed like his suffering wouldn’t end. 

He could feel his stomach drop, ready for a round three when a deafening alarm sounded from around him, the box coming to a harsh stop. He jolted forward, just barely catching himself with his hands.

There was a long and silent pause as he waited in anticipation, subconsciously holding his breath as he gripped the bars with white knuckles. Panic coursed through his veins, waiting in anticipation for what was to come. Was he about to die?

The doors– he didn’t even notice them– above him opened with a deafening groan, making him cover his ears and wince. Light spilled in through the cracks and the boy covered his eyes and squinted up. He could only assume that the light was from the sun, considering how he got significantly warmer. 

As his eyes adjusted to the light, his breath hitched and his stomach dropped. 

Above him was a swarm of around fifty boys– and one girl, he took note of– looking down at him.

His anxiety increased tenfold at the sight of a group of people all looking down at him. No one else. Nothing else. Just him.

The box rattled as a figure jumped down into the box, making the boy skitter backwards out of fear. 

Above him, the men hollered. 

He could barely make out voices past his ringing ears, taunting and laughing at him. 

“Boy looks like he’s pissed himself.”

“¿Cabreado? No, él mismo está completamente klunked. [Pissed? No, he's outright klunked himself.]”

“He looks more scared than Flippa did, and she cried for da– ow!” 

The figure that jumped into the box looked down at him with a look the boy couldn’t pinpoint the emotion of. He wore a skin-tight blue shirt, rolled up at the elbows. Moles and beauty marks dotted his face, strands of black hair peeking out from the beanie he wore. 

“Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine. ”

The boy shot up from the cot, screaming. Sweat dripped from each and every one of his pores, dampening his– he looked down – green shirt. There was a figure standing in the corner he was too panicked to pay any mind to. 

“Woah woah, calm down mate, you’re alright.”

He whipped his head towards the source of the noise, feeling his heart stop at the sight of another person in the room with him. Blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, heavy bags under pale blue eyes, a dark green shirt– similar to his own, he noticed– and most notably, a green and white striped bucket hat.

The man held his hand out and the boy cautiously took it, shaking it slowly. The man flashed a bright smile and pulled his hand back, sticking it into his pocket.

The boy– he figured he’d call himself ‘Greenie’ for now, since that was the last thing he remembered hearing before he woke up wherever here was– opened his mouth to begin asking every question that was floating around in his brain, but was cut off by a hand.

“Now I know you have a bunch of questions, but I am certainly not the right guy to ask. Save ‘em for Q. Or Mariana. Or Flippa. Wow we have a lot of people you can as–”

“What’s my name?” The Greenie’s voice cracked. That was the first time he had spoken since… he had no idea. His voice was hoarse and begged for something to drink. And almost like the man in front of him could read his thoughts, he pulled out a small water bottle and handed it to him. 

The Greenie graciously took big gulps, almost choking and earning a laugh from the blonde. “Slow down mate.” 

He let out a large exhale after he swallowed and breathed heavily from lack of oxygen. As he caught his breath, the blonde began to speak again. “My name’s Phil, I’m a medjack.” When the Greenie cocked his head, he explained further. “Medjacks are the people who help take care of the physical wellbeing of those in the Glade. Like healers or doctors.” He had no idea how he knew what any of those things were, but he did. “There’s only two of us though, me and Missa. You’ll probably meet him later if you keep up the fainting.”

“What’s the Glade–” He didn’t even bother to question the fainting. 

“What did I say about those questions?”

The Greenie shut his mouth and pouted. His brain was racing with questions and he couldn’t ask a single one.

“Do you by any chance remember your name?” 

“No… No, I'm sorry. I-I don’t remember anything, I don’t remember my name or where I’m from or what I’m doing here or–” 

Phil cut him off again before he could fall into a panic attack, something he was silently grateful for.

“Don’t worry mate, your name will come back to you soon. It’s the one thing they let us keep.” 

“Who is they?”

Phil just smirked and gave him a knowing look.

“Right. You and your stupid persistence to not answer me.”

Phil chuckled and turned his attention to the door as it opened, revealing another figure the Greenie couldn’t make out past Phil’s frame.

“¿Está despierto todavía? [Is he awake yet?]”

“You’re just in time, he was just about to ask me a few questions before you came in!” 

The new person– he gathered it was a man– noisily groaned at the mention of questions. It was his least favorite thing about new greenies. 

“Well Greenie, Mariana here will take you on the grand tour of the Glade. He’s the guy you can ask alllll your questions to.” The Greenie visibly perked up at the mention of finally getting some answers and quickly pushed Phil to the side and stood up to get a look at who his knight in shining armor would be. 

Before he could get a look however, his legs wobbled and gave out from lack of use. 

Well shit.

He braced himself to hit the floor but was caught by a pair of soft hands catching him just a split second before he hit the ground. 

“¡Mierda! ¿Tú estás bien? [Shit! Are you okay?]” 

The greenie blinked and looked from the ground. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. 

The man– Mariana– holding him had swooped back hair, painted a chocolate brown. Beauty marks peppered his skin, a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. 

He was beautiful, and as the Greenie noticed their position, he blushed profusely. 

One of Mariana’s hands held his shoulder, the other holding his hand in a moment of panic as he tried to catch him. And while one of the Greenie’s hands was in Mariana’s, something already embarrassing, the other was on his chest, grasping his pectoral through the bunched up fabric of his yellow shirt.

The Greenie shot himself out of Mariana’s hold, flailing his hands in front of him and turning his face away from the man. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to– I’m sorry!”

Behind him, Phil was cackling, taking note of not only the Greenie’s blush, but Mariana’s flushed face. 

Something that the Greenie was rightfully unaware of was how complicated it was to make Mariana blush, or show any emotion other than annoyance or anger, for that matter. There have been several times where Mariana was in an embarrassing situation and he showed no emotion whatsoever. Just a stone cold face. That’s what made him such a good leader.

“E-Está bien, no te preocupes. [I-It’s okay, don’t worry.]”

And while the reassurance was comforting, the Greenie was mortified. He couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment from his mind, and his flushed face certainly gave that away. Out of all the positions he could’ve been caught in, it had to be that one?

He much rather have preferred falling on the ground instead of that.

The Greenie groaned and hesitantly turned to face Mariana, feeling slightly comforted over the fact that he was not the only one impossibly red. “I’m sorry–” He repeated, earning a nod from Mariana.

“It is okay, let’s just forget about it, yes?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Sounds– Sounds good.”

He would certainly not be forgetting about it, and neither would Mariana. 

Chapter Text

The Greenie and Mariana had brushed off the awkward encounter and set off for the tour of what Phil called ‘The Glade.’

The first word that popped into his head at his first full look of the Glade was impressive. That’s the only way he could’ve easily described it without going on a tangent on how pretty the place really was.

Trees lined the perimeter of the Glade, various buildings scattered about. They were made out of a variety of materials, ranging from sticks to cut down trees. 

The two toured around, Mariana pointing out various buildings such as the Homestead, the Gardens, the Bloodhouse (which he cringed at), and more. 

As he was showing him the other sleeping quarters located in the Gardens, the Greenie’s attention was drawn away from the boy speaking and instead focused on a young girl, no older than ten, waving frantically and running up to them.

Before he could ask who she was, she picked up the pace and slammed into Mariana’s side, sending him toppling over. 

“Mama!” She yelled, giggling as Mariana groaned, pushing her off gently and sitting up to wipe the dirt from his clothes. 

The Greenie’s ears perked up at the name, was Mariana a parent? There was no way he was much older than himself, they had to be around the same age. Whatever that was.

“Ay mami, mira a dónde vas. [Watch where you're going.]”

The girl giggled and helped– or more realistically, Mariana let her– him up. “Quise encontrarme contigo, tonto. [I meant to run into you, silly.]” 

The Greenie watched the interaction in silence, not wanting to interrupt anything. Especially not a moment between a supposed father and his daughter. 

As if sensing his inner monologue, Mariana cleared his throat and gestured towards the girl, placing a hand on her head.

“Greenie,” The word sounded foreign on his tongue, as if he hated calling people that and just said it to fit in, to not be the weird one. “this is Juanaflippa. She’s my… how you say–” “Adoptive!” “Sí, adopted. Gracias, Flippa. [Thank you, Flippa.] My adoptive daughter.” 

The Greenie couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that itched the back of his brain. “How old are you?”

He was scared he had somehow ended up offending him but his fears subsided as Mariana let out a (gorgeous) chuckle. 

“No lo sé. [I don't know.] I assume I am around eighteen, maybe nineteen. Others have said the same. And from the looks of you,” Mariana looked him up and down, making him shift on his feet. “you are around the same, no?”

The Greenie nodded and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding once Mariana’s scrutinizing gaze turned from him to Flippa’s. “That– that sounds right.”

“People say I’m around nine or ten! I like to think I’m older though.”

“And how old do you think you are, mi niña [my girl]?” The Greenie’s heart fluttered at the way Mariana looked down at his daughter so lovingly, a dopey smile plastered across his face.

“Twenty!” She shouted, bursting into a fit of giggles as Mariana let out an exaggerative ‘what!’, gasping in mock surprise. He lifted her up into his arms and spun her around, Flippa squealing and kicking her feet.

“Definitivamente no tienes veinte años. Yo diría... treinta años más joven. [You are definitely not twenty. I'd say... thirty at the youngest.]” 

“Noooo, I’m not thirty silly!” 

His heart felt like it would explode if he stared at the interaction any longer. Seeing Mariana– a man he had just met, he kept reminding himself– be so caring and gentle with Flippa was making his chest tighten. As if this man wasn’t perfect enough.

In an attempt to play along, the Greenie awkwardly chimed in. “Thirty is generous, I’d say maybe fourty.” 

The Greenie thought he could see something akin to fondness in Mariana’s eyes as he joked along, a soft expression on his face. 

“No no no, she is definitely older, you’re right. Maybe… cincuenta [fifty]?”

“Sixty.” He raised.

“Setenta [Seventy].”

“Eighty!” 

“¡Noventa! [Ninety!]”

“Alright you drive a hard bargain. Fifteen, that’s the highest I’ll go.”

Flippa burst out into even more furious giggles as Mariana’s playful expression morphed into one of confusion. “¿Quince? ¡Eso es más bajo que cualquier cosa que hayamos dicho! [Fifteen? That's lower than anything we've said!]”

The Greenie shrugged. “You’re hard to negotiate with, Mariana. You’re reaaaaally pushing my budget here, but I think we can settle on a solid five, no?”

“Puta madre! ¡Deja de bajar la edad! [Motherfucker! Stop lowering the age!]”

The Greenie giggled alongside Flippa and soon Mariana joined in, making his gut twist in adoration. Going back on his earlier statement, Mariana wasn’t just perfect– she was beyond that. She was the word perfect, the exact definition. Look up the word in the dictionary (how did he know what that was?) and you’d see just his name scribbled in.

The three calmed down and Mariana spoke. “I have to continue giving the Greenie here the tour, mi hija [my daughter]. Why don’t you run along and find someone to help?” Flippa frowned, holding her father’s– or was it her mother’s?– hand. “But I wanna stay with you! I wanna help with the tour!” She stared up and gave Mariana the best puppy dog eyes she could. As much as Mariana wanted to give in and say yes, he knew that there were some things he’d have to discuss with the Greenie that he did not want her hearing.

“Lo siento [I’m sorry] Mami, I really think it’s best you go with someone else. Bad might need some help in the kitchen, why don’t you go to him?”

He watched as Flippa visibly lit up and flapped her wrists, jumping up and down. “Sí! Sí! Quiero ayudar a Bad! ¡Te amo mamá! [Yes! Yes! I wanna help Bad! I love you mama!]” And without another word, Flippa sprinted off, her braids trailing in the wind.

Mariana just sighed happily as he watched her run off, a smile on his face. He was watching her so intently that he had completely forgotten all about the tour, only snapping back into reality when the Greenie shifted awkwardly. 

“Disculpe [Sorry], I got a little distracted.” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I… apologize about Flippa’s interruption, I hope she wasn’t too much.” Mariana scratched the back of his neck, eyes turning back to where Flippa was previously running off. “No no, not at all. She seems like a good kid.” Kid. That’s what she was.

Mariana was briefly explaining and answering some of the Greenie’s questions about the Glade; what it was, who had sent them (that they knew very little about), and what they did all day. 

So that begged the question. In a place, as beautiful as it was, that was essentially a prison, what was a little girl doing here?

Mariana had also begun to explain that it was all boys, save for Flippa. Not once had a girl come up in the box, which prompted his next question,

“If a girl has never come up in the box, what about Flippa?”

The two were walking past a few boys and Mariana quickly shushed him at the question, yanking him aside roughly. “Lo siento [I’m sorry], I just didn’t want anyone to hear us talk about that.” Before he could ask why, Mariana answered. “It’s a subject that we don’t mention because it makes Flippa uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Flippa wasn’t ehh… born a girl.”

…

“Huh?”

Mariana huffed, but not specifically at him, more so having to explain it to a brand new greenie for the hundredth time. “When she was sent up, she was a boy. But later on she expressed that she wasn’t comfortable being one, that she preferred to be a girl.”

Oh. 

Mariana closely studied the Greenie, waiting for any sign, any hint, anything that might suggest he was against that or thought it was weird, ready to deck him on sight, no matter what the rules stated.

“Oh, yeah that makes sense.” 

Mariana relaxed and continued to speak. “It didn’t take long for us to adjust to her new self, she had only been here a few weeks when she decided to tell us. Before she did, everyone could tell that she looked miserable, always moping around and dragging her feet.”

Mariana’s eyes drifted to his hands as he thought back to the way his daughter used to be. “I was the first person she told. I found her in the Deadheads crying all alone. When I had asked her what was wrong, she just… grabbed onto me and cried in my arms, saying how she didn’t like being a boy and repeating how sorry she was because of it.”

“I told her that it was okay, that no one would be mad at her for it. It took some time for her to tell the rest, maybe a week or two.” Mariana smiled as he reminisced about the next part. “That entire week she was glued to my side. Per her request, I only called her what she wanted to be called in private. She helped me do my work and titled herself as my own little helper.”

The Greenie held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Mariana to explain how the others felt about it. 

“When she did tell everyone– or, when I told everyone–” He huffed out a laugh. “they were all fine with it. Accepted her for who she was.”

He watched as a small tear slipped from Mariana’s hazel irises. 

“I was the one that chose her new name. I think that was the day that solidified our relationship. From there on we never discussed what we were, we just knew that we were family.”

Mariana turned to look directly into the Greenie’s eyes, making him sit up at the eye contact. 

“I do not know what or who we were before the Glade. I do not know if we were close, if we actually were related, anything.”

He leaned in close to the Greenie.

“But I do know that if anything were to happen to her, el infierno se desataría. [hell would break loose.]”

Realization dawned on him that day; nothing would come between the love of a mother and his daughter. Mariana’s words were like a promise. A promise that anyone– or in this case, the Greenie specifically– were to hurt Flippa, they would not live to see the daylight again.

“I understand.”

“Good. Let us continue on then. Vámonos [Let’s go], there’s a place I have to show you.”

The Greenie followed Mariana as he led them into the woods. “There is a place behind one of the old buildings that I need to… ¿cómo se dice informar?” 

“Inform?”

“¡Sí! Inform. I need to inform you of this place.” Mariana’s voice dropped into a hush whisper as he rounded a corner. He placed a hand in front of the Greenie to stop him, bringing a finger to his lips. “I am bringing you here to tell you why you should not come here if you want to maintain your sanity.”

Before the Greenie could question anything, he was cut off by a high pitched giggle.

“Stop teasing and kiss me already Wil.” He recognized that voice. That was the person who greeted him before he ended up passing out. The Greenie opened his mouth to question what was going on, but Mariana raised his eyebrows as a signal to keep quiet.

He watched as the beanie-clad man placed a hand on a firm chest. The other figure was a man who had brown curls and a shirt a similar color to Mariana’s. 

“You’re so needy today, Q. Have some patience.”

“Hmm.. I’d rather not, considering you’re right here.”

His stomach swirled in an unknown emotion as the man, who he assumed was ‘Q’, leaned in to press a soft kiss to the other– Wil–’s lips. 

Just as the two were about to deepen the kiss, Mariana looked at him and smirked, sending a shiver down his spine. “Watch this.” He mouthed.

One loud clap echoed throughout the forest as Mariana made him and the Greenie’s presence known, making both Q and Wil shoot away from each other and yelp in surprise, a deep blush coating both of their cheeks.

“Ah–! Mariana! Shouldn’t you heh, be uh– working?” Q stuttered, trying to pretend as though nothing happened.

“¡Podría preguntarte lo mismo, pendejo! [I could be asking you the same thing, stupid!]”

“I-I was taking a break, I swear! ¡Casi habíamos terminado! [We were almost done!]” By this point, Q and Wil were miles apart, trying to trick Mariana into thinking that nothing was going on, despite the fact they had been caught before the act.

“¡Literalmente te vi besarlo, perra! ¿Y Wilbur? La última vez que revisé los jardines estaban cubiertos de maleza, ¿el trabajo que alguien debía manejar? [I literally saw you kiss him, bitch! And what about Wilbur? Last I checked the Gardens were overgrown, the job someone was supposed to be handling?]”

“I-I was getting to it, Mariana–! I swear! I was just–”

Mariana turned to look at the Greenie and flashed a faux smile.

“Greenie, this here,” He gestured to Q, “is your leader, Quackity.”

Quackity just shuffled on his feet, not daring to look up from the ground. “And that there,” He pointed to Wil, “is Wilbur. He’s the keeper of the trackhoes– o se supone que lo es. [or he's supposed to be.]”

“Mariana–”

He raised a hand. “Save it, no quiero escuchar excusas. Quackity, tú eres el líder. Actúa como tal. [I don't want to hear excuses. Quackity, you are the leader. Act like it.] Wilbur, you get back to work, do I make myself clear?” 

Wilbur nodded, eyes trained to the ground. “Good, now go. Same for you, Quackity. Cellbit y Roier volverán pronto. Ayer dijeron que estaban buscando una nueva sección, así que por qué no vas a saludarlos cuando regresen. [Cellbit and Roier are coming back soon. Yesterday they said that they were looking into a new section, so why don't you go greet them when they're back.]”

Mariana didn’t phrase it as a question. Despite being second-in-command, a rank lower than Quackity, he was demanding it to be done. “Fine,” Quackity scowled, pushing past Mariana. He turned back on his heels to look at him. “Greenie?” He jabbed Mariana in the chest. “He is the only one allowed to boss me around like that, you got it?”

Out of both fear and intimidation, the Greenie nodded quickly, playing with his hands. “Good. Mariana, fuck you.” And without another word, Quackity and Wilbur were gone.

There was a beat of silence before Mariana burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and hollering. The Greenie was confused– wasn’t he mad? 

“Lo–” He chuckled again. “Lo siento lo siento [I’m sorry I’m sorry], solo la expresión de sus caras cuando los atraparon. [just the look on their faces when they were caught.]” 

“I’m confused. I thought you were mad? You looked pretty mad–” He didn’t bother to think about how his stomach swirled at the vision of Mariana’s usual soft eyes tinted with anger or how low he spoke when angry. 

“I am not actually mad, I just like to mess with them. Quackity knows that, but I don’t think Wilbur does, which makes it even better.” The Greenie didn’t understand his motives, but if it made him laugh like that and look all pretty as he caught his breath, then he didn’t need to question it.

“If you are wondering why I brought you here, it was to let you know that you should not come here, not unless you want to lose your sanity. Think of it as ehh.. a lesson.”

The Greenie nodded. “That… seems fair. Thanks for the heads up. Didn’t think I’d be getting a visual today but that’s fine too.”

“¿Con Quackity? Bien, todo es visual. [With Quackity? Right, everything's a visual.]”

Mariana clapped his hands again, making him slightly jolt. “Let’s move on from that, ven [come], there is more I have to show you.”

He led him out of the forest and back into the center of the Glade, gesturing around as he spoke. “We have many jobs here, once you are settled in you will go through each one at least once, overseen by its keeper until we find one that you are good at.”

Mariana pointed a finger to the Bloodhouse, pointing out a bald man with bloody hands holding a slab of meat. “That there is Fit. He is the Keeper of the Slicers. I do not reckon you want that job unless you are a maniac.”

The slicers, from what the Greenie could gather with context clues, were the butchers of the Glade. This was only further proven by the sight of multiple farm animals near the Bloodhouse, making him cringe.

Moving on quickly, Mariana pointed out another individual. “That there is the Keeper of the Builders, Foolish. Not a lot going on upstairs, but he’s great with his hands.” Mariana continued to point out people nearby and paused when two figures had begun to jog out from the large stone and ivy-coated walls.

“Those two there are Cellbit and Roier, they’re runners. Roier is the Keeper of the Runners,” He leaned in. “and between you and me and everyone in the Glade? They’re boyfriends.” 

It wasn’t too far-fetched, considering the way Roier looked at Cellbit as they jogged, nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. He didn’t miss the way that Cellbit sluggishly moved, however, almost as if he were in pain. 

“¡Seguir adelante! [Moving on!] Wilbur, from earlier, he is the Keeper of the Trackhoes. He is in charge of the people working in the Gardens. Then there is Bad, who is Keeper of the Cooks, and Phil and Missa, our Medjacks.”

There were a lot of names and unknown words that the Greenie struggled to remember, and it must’ve been obvious by the way Mariana smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ll remember it all someday, de memoria [by heart].” 

“Now, there are only three rules, but I need you to listen carefully okay?” The Greenie nodded, his full attention on Mariana. “One; never go outside the Glade unless you are a runner. Two; never hurt another glader, we operate on trust. And three; everyone does their part. Do you understand?”

The Greenie nodded. 

“Good. Now one more thing I have to explain before we finish that I’m sure you’re curious about.” His head turned to look at the concrete walls that the runners had come out of minutes ago. “The Maze.”

“Every job is important, but the most vital one is the runners. They spend every day, from morning to evening, studying and mapping out every inch of what is inside, for that–” He pointed to the Maze– “is our way out of here.”

The Greenie stood up straighter at that. “There’s a way out of here?”

“Sí, but we have yet to find it.”

“Well how long have you been looking?”

“Three years.”

…

The Greenie’s heart dropped. “What?” He asked, breathless. These people were looking for a way out and have found nothing in three years? 

“Relax, the whole reason the runners spend everyday searching is to get us out. They’ll find something eventually. But for now, we’re stuck here. We just have to live day by day and do our part.” Mariana made his point clear by pressing his hands down on the Greenie’s shoulders, staring into his eyes and making him swallow the thick lump in his throat.

“I think that’s enough for one day, yes? I know that is a lot of information to take in, so why don’t you rest early? You’ll start trying out jobs tomorrow.” Mariana smiled through white teeth– did they have hygiene products?– and pointed to the hammocks near the Homestead. “If anyone gives you any problems for resting, tráigamelos [bring them to me].”

“...Alright. Thank you for giving me the tour, Mariana. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,”

“welcome to the Glade, Greenie.”

Chapter Text

“Charlie. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

Flurries of white ash rained down on the crowd, the boy held close to the woman’s chest. He clutched at the fabric of her shirt as he jostled in her arms. Everything was loud. It was so unbelievably loud. People screamed, inhuman creatures roared, gunshots were fired. 

“Cranks!” A man yelled next to his ear, making him flinch. The woman just held on tighter, shushing him and planting soft kisses to his scalp. She pushed through the crowd, quiet apologies drowned out in the various voices. 

One second, Charlie was in his mother’s arms. The next, he was on the ground, wrist being tugged by a man covered head to toe in heavy-duty gear. The man didn’t look human, it was hard to without a visible face. Charlie screamed and fought against him, begging and pleading for his mother. 

His mother just sat on her knees and cried, reaching out for Charlie even though she knew it was futile. Even though she knew it was for the better of the world. That her boy would help find a cure. 

Brown glistening eyes met soft green ones, four soft words slipping from her cracked lips.

“I love you Charlie, be good for them. Be good for WICKED…”

Voices faded away as the Greenie shot up in his hammock with a scream, soon morphing into a harsh coughing fit. His throat burned and begged for water, but there was none nearby. Bodies around him shifted and groaned at the disturbance, even one going as far as to yell a “shut up!” 

He rolled out of his hammock, falling to the ground with a yelp. Dirt coated his white button up and jeans and he brushed them off quickly, wobbling as he stood to his feet and stumbled out of the sleeping area. He needed fresh air, something to drink, some serenity. 

What the ever loving fuck was that dream? Who was the boy, Charlie? Was it him? Was that his past life? Was he finally getting some answers? Although, the more “answers” he got, the more questions were raised, it seemed. 

The confusion was a never ending cycle. 

“Greenie, what the hell is going on?”

The Greenie whipped his head around in fear and visibly relaxed when he realized it was just Quackity. The beanie-clad man looked disheveled, although it probably didn’t help that his scream was heard throughout the entire Glade at early dawn.

“I– Sorry, sorry Quackity, I just–” He stuttered through his words, fiddling with his hands out of anxiety– from both the embarrassment of his freakout and his lingering dream (memory)? Quackity sighed and scratched at his head sleepily through the beanie. “Bad dream?” He asked groggily, placing his hands on his hips.

“You could say that…” 

“Hm. Well, do you…” He glanced up at the sky, seeing how early it was. He pondered his next words, but sighed defeatedly as he realized he wasn’t falling back asleep anytime soon. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

The Greenie chewed on his lip, still playing with his hands. “I– well, there– there was a little boy, his name was Charlie,” He didn’t mention how he thought the boy could’ve been him. “I was seeing the whole dream through his eyes, he was being held by what I think was his mother. There… There was a crowd of people, screaming, gunshots, other… stuff.” He shivered at the sound of the creature-like groaning that lingered in the back of his mind. He’d rather not think about that again. “one second the woman was holding me– well, him, and the next he was on the ground. Then he was taken away by a person in full-suit gear. Then the dream ended.”

“And then you screamed?” Quackity teased.

“And then I screamed.”

Quackity thought over the dream for a second, hand over his mouth as he stared at the ground in sleepy concentration. “Well, that’s certainly a dream. Do you think it was by any chance a memory? Something from your past?”

The Greenie was hoping he wouldn’t ask that, he couldn’t pinpoint why though.

“Well, that’s kind of what I was thinking. It was too specific for it to be a dream I feel like. I don’t know…”

“Well, is your name Charlie?”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t think so. I still don’t remember my name. Should it be back by now?” The Greenie slightly panicked. Although it had only been two official days, today would mark three, he was still worried that his name may never recover. That he would just be nameless for the rest of his life.

“Well, yes and no. It varies from glader to glader. I got mine back after a day, Mariana got his after three days, yadda yadda yadda.” Quackity waved his hand around as he spoke, letting out a yawn mid-speech. “The longest it’s taken was six days I think, but that was only once or twice. My best guess is you get it back today or tomorrow at the latest. If not,” He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll break our record.”

The Greenie swallowed a thick lump in his throat at the thought. For being such a good leader, Quackity really wasn’t the best at making him feel reassured. He must have noticed his discomfort however, since he quickly shot out his hands and stuttered over his words. “N-Not that that’s gonna happen! Haha, um. Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be today. Hopefully. Um. Wow I’m not good at this, this is why I leave the greenies to Mariana.” 

He smiled at the thought of Mariana. The Greenie had grown to like him the most out of the entire Glade so far, then again, he had only officially met him, Quackity, and Flippa– and maybe Wilbur, but that was a little awkward. Mariana was nice, patient, and caring, and also infuriatingly attractive, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind for another day.

The two stood in awkward silence for a few moments until Quackity spoke up. “So… are you good now? I wanna try to get some more sleep before work starts, which is soon by the way. You’ll start trying out jobs today, Flippa will be in charge of that.”

“Flippa?” He questioned. He wasn’t complaining, but a ten year old in charge of that? Felt weird.

“Yeah? Why, is there a problem? Do you have some secret beef with a child?” Quackity laughed, nudging his shoulder. When the Greenie didn’t respond, not quite picking up on the joke, Quackity’s face dropped. “Oh shit, you totally have beef with a child.”

“Huh?! No! What?!”

“Dude! Do you have beef with Flippa?”

“No! What gave you that idea?!”

Quackity scoffed. “You didn’t respond! How else am I supposed to take that?”

The Greenie shrugged defensively. “I-I don’t know! I didn’t know you were joking!” 

Quackity eyed him up and down with an unknown expression, pursing his lips. “Hm. Well, whatever. Yeah, Flippa will tell you what jobs you’ll be handling through the week and where to go. You have any questions, ask her or one of the keepers. Mariana already gave you a rundown on who those were?” 

The Greenie nodded. “Good. Then I’m heading back to sleep, and I suggest you do the same.” And without another word, Quackity turned on his heel and went back to the private sleeping quarters, hands in his pockets and beanie bouncing on his head. 

The Greenie let out a sigh he hadn’t known he had been holding and rolled his shoulders. He was so unbelievably exhausted, but he knew there was no way in hell he’d be falling back asleep– so with a huff, he sat down on a nearby log and just relaxed, taking in the sights before him.

There were no birds in the Glade, at least not to his knowledge. Mariana had explained that the only animals in the Glade were the livestock, who would come up in the box bi-monthly– as opposed to the monthly box of supplies that would come up– and little lizard-like mechanical bugs that, according to Mariana, were used to by the creators to spy on the gladers, if those could even count as animals. 

The Greenie listened to the livestock bustle around, being relatively close to the Bloodhouse. He pushed himself up from his knees and approached one of the various animal pens– the cows, his brain helpfully noted– and smiled. He reached a cautious hand out and gave one of them a small scritch behind the ear, chuckling when it leaned into his touch. This was the serenity he was looking for; the past few days had been nothing but exhausting for him– from coming up from seemingly nowhere to being thrown into a group of over fifty boys (and one girl) and learning they were basically trapped here. With that? There was no room for peace in the past forty-eight (or so) hours.

The Greenie hummed in content as he continued to pet the cow, moving from its ears to its snout. He felt like he could stand here all day, just petting the animals and relaxing for once in… he didn’t even know how long. Nothing could interrupt or ruin this moment for him, not a single soul–

“Hey mister! Good to see you’re already here!” 

The Greenie yelped and yanked his hand away, earning a huff from the cow. He spun around to face his intruder, only to be met with the sight of a sleepy Flippa, who was rubbing her eyes and yawning. 

“Gosh you scared me, morning Flippa.” He flashed a smile her way but froze when her words processed. “What do you mean already here?”

Flippa giggled and pointed to the animals. “Well, you’ll be working in the Bloodhouse today, silly!”

The Greenie felt his blood run cold. 

The Greenie barged out of the Bloodhouse, coughing furiously and breathing in the fresh air. He had been breathing in only the rotten stench of iron all day, and his hands and shirt were coated in blood from working in the makeshift slaughterhouse. 

“Wow, harsh reaction there, Greenie.” The Keeper of the Slicers– Fit, he reminded himself– teased, slapping a bloody hand onto his back. “Eh, I’m sure you won’t have to get used to it, thankfully for you. With the way you worked in there? I don’t think that being a slicer is for you, my friend.”

The Greenie coughed and nearly vomited from the stench radiating off of Fit. “Yeah, no kidding.” He spoke through a hoarse voice, throat shot from hacking. Fit just chuckled and wiped off his hands with a towel, tossing it his way. He took it with a quiet “thanks” and wiped himself down, getting way more blood on himself than Fit did, considering his inexperience. Fit knew exactly where to chop and slice, and the Greenie? He just clumsily followed along. 

Dusk was beginning to fall over the Glade, coating the sky in a darkish tint. He took note of the multitude of gladers finishing up their jobs and heading to the firepit near the center of the Glade, some heading off into the woods to grab sticks and others getting ready to start a fire.

Another thing he took note of was Mariana approaching the two of them. The Greenie tried his best to look presentable, but was, for the lack of better words, looking like shit. Thankfully, Mariana was holding a clean t-shirt and a smile.

“Here you go, Greenie. A fresh shirt for you. It’s one of mine, so I hope it fits.”

The Greenie took one look at his muscles and back to Mariana’s shirt, and decided that no, it would not fit, but he was not about to pass down an opportunity to wear Mariana’s shirt, so he accepted it with a quiet “thanks” and slipped off his blood stained one. He tossed his, respectfully, ruined shirt to the ground, taking the clean one from Mariana’s hands, and unfolded it.

If he had been paying attention, the Greenie would’ve noticed how Mariana’s gaze not once tore away from his shirtless figure, studying each and every dip of his arms and hips. Fit noticed his staring and snickered, earning a sharp glare from the other. 

The Greenie slipped the shirt on with some difficulty, struggling to pull the sleeves over his arms. Once finished, he definitely did not miss how tight it felt against his body and how hard it was to move around. He also didn’t miss Mariana’s staring, certain he was laughing in his head at how ridiculous he looked.

In reality? Mariana was staring at how good he looked in the skin-tight clothing and how it hugged his curves. He should lend him shirts more often.

“I look ridiculous.” He blushed, tugging the shirt down lower to hide his stomach. Mariana frowned, now unable to look at the very faint happy trail he had. “N-No. You look… fine. You look fine.” 

Fit was now howling with laughter, both men turning to glare at him for two completely different reasons. Which one was he laughing at? He had no clue. It was probably both. 

In a pathetic attempt to calm his blushing, Mariana coughed and jerked a thumb in the direction of the firepit. “Están comenzando el fuego, vamos a seguir. [They are starting the fire, let's get going.]” The other two just nodded and followed his lead, the Greenie elbowing Fit’s side as he continued to snicker. 

This was gonna be a long night.

Howls and cheers rang out from the gladers as the last log was added to the pit, lighting the bonfire ablaze. Quackity clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention, the hollers dying down. 

“Alright alright, settle down. Now I know that we usually hold the bonfire for new greenies the night they arrive, however, due to circumstances that you all don’t need to know, we had to hold it a little late. Nevertheless, it is with great honor that I announce our brand new Green Bean,” Quackity grabbed him by the wrist without warning, hoisting him up to the crowd. “whatever his name is!”

Each and every glader whistled and shouted, a deep blush coating the Greenie’s face as all eyes were on him. Quackity graciously let him go and he quickly went back to his seat, burying his face into his drink. Quackity had given it to him the moment he and the other two arrived, saying it was Foolish’s “secret recipe.” He had yet to meet Foolish, but even if he had, he didn’t trust it. It was only when Mariana took the empty seat next to him did he relax. 

“Hola, newbie.” He flashed a grin, sitting down and letting out a grunt as he got comfortable. The Greenie just nodded in response, clutching his drink. Anxiety coursed through his veins for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, and Mariana, his reluctant crush– was he really using that word?– sitting next to him didn’t help all that much.

“Relájate, no te voy a morder. [Relax, I'm not gonna bite you.]” He whispered close to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. The Greenie almost blurted out “I wish you would,” but thankfully held back at the last second. 

Against himself, the Greenie relaxed and leaned against the log he was sitting in front of, holding his drink to his lips, not daring to take a sip. Mariana noticed his hesitancy and smiled. “Go on, take a sip. I promise it won’t kill you.” When he didn’t comply, Mariana smirked and tilted the jar up his lips, making him take a big sip and swallow, not once breaking eye contact. Something about the gesture was so… sensual. His stomach burned and he couldn’t tell if it was from Mariana’s flirtatious stare or the drink settling in his gut. Oh yeah, the drink.

The Greenie coughed as the flavor seeped into his taste buds– it tasted downright disgusting. He hacked into his arm, almost spilling the drink. Mariana giggled as he practically died, placing a reassuring hand on his back and patting it. The Greenie grimaced, scowling.

“What the hell is that?”

Mariana smiled, inspecting his own jar and taking a sip with no reaction. “I don’t actually know, it’s Foolish’s secret recipe.” 

He groaned as the taste lingered in his mouth. “Yeah, Quackity mentioned that. Remind me to stay away from that guy.”

Mariana let out another gorgeous giggle and nodded. “Noted.” 

Near the firepit was a huge circle drawn into the dirt used for wrestling. While harming another glader was forbidden, nights like these were dedicated to playful battles in the fight ring. Gladers were encouraged to go against each other and see who could push the other out of the ring first, a quite enjoyable thing to watch in the Greenie’s opinion. 

The two sat in comfortable silence as they watched Foolish and Roier go at it, Foolish– with all his muscles– winning by a long shot. Roier was strong, but Foolish was stronger, and it was a matter of seconds before Roier was tossed out of the ring, earning a round of loud “oohs” and cheers for Foolish ringing out. 

The Greenie had no interest in joining the ring– he knew he was strong, hell he was fucking chulked– he was content in watching–

And misfortune after misfortune, Foolish yelled out to him. 

“Hey Greenie! You wanna have a go at it? Since it’s ‘your night’ and all?” Foolish had a playful tone, obviously trying to be nice, but something in his voice screamed taunting. Like he couldn’t believe he could do it. And honestly? The Greenie didn’t have much hope, not against the muscles that Foolish had. 

Every glader hollered for the millionth time, their throats sure to be sore by morning. “I don’t know, I-I think I’m alright,” 

Everyone booed and Foolish mockingly frowned. “Aww, are you scared?” Like a class of school children, everyone reacted with synced up “oohs.” The only one who didn’t react was Mariana, who sat next to the Greenie with a frown.

“Come on, Foolish. Don’t mess with him, he’s new.” Mariana called out, catching the Greenie by surprise. His heart fluttered at the idea of Mariana caring so much.

“You can handle a few seconds without your new boytoy, Mariana. That’s all he’ll last anyway.” Foolish’s tone had a bit of venom laced into it, almost as if the statement meant more to him than he let on. Mariana scowled, obviously bitter at the interaction. Clearly something had gone down between the two of them.

“Well guys, I think the greenie here is too much of a wimp to go against me, what do you think?” 

And like a crowd of fans, they all agreed in unison, cheering and yelling for the Greenie to man up and fight. They began to chant loudly, all at once, making him sigh.

“Greenie! Greenie! Greenie!”

The Greenie moved to stand but was stopped by Mariana. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispered. The Greenie just shook his head and stood up, earning a crowd of cheers from everyone. 

“Well well well, looks like the Greenie grew a pair!” Foolish announced, earning a roar of laughter from the crowd. The Greenie just scowled, only now realizing how hard it would be to keep his balance in his skin tight shirt. Whatever, it got Mariana staring. Speaking of Mariana, he looked down to the man in question who wore a worried expression.

To ease his and Mariana’s nerves, he flashed a wink, and walked to the circle.

Everyone hollered and clapped, whistling and loudly placing bets on who was gonna win. The Greenie pretended not to hear how almost everyone chose Foolish. 

“Alright Greenie. You know the rules; I try to push you out of the circle, you try and last more than five seconds.”

That earned a round of chuckles from the crowd, making him grimace. 

“You ready?”

And without warning, Foolish pounced and latched onto the Greenie, pushing him back. Thankfully, his reaction time was quick and he stiffened up last second, only moving back an inch or two. The crowd whistled and cheered, some shouting out his name– or more accurately, his title– and cheering him on. 

The Greenie pushed against Foolish’s weight, pushing him back a little but ultimately failing, being shoved back more. His feet were at the tips of the circle, everyone on the edge of their seats as they shouted and screamed. “Get his ass, Foolish!” He heard a heavily accented voice ring out, followed by chants of Foolish’s name. 

The Greenie was not going to allow himself to get embarrassed today. Not in front of the entire Glade.

Pushing his whole body weight flush into Foolish’s front, he reared back and shoved him hard into the ground, sending him rolling and just missing the edge of the circle. “Go Greenie!” He heard Fit shout, followed by whooping from Mariana. The crowd seemed to lean their cheers into whoever was winning, and right now that was him. 

Foolish coughed into the dirt, looking up and scrambling to his knees. As he tried to get up, the Greenie pounced and rolled on top of him, grabbing him into a hug-like embrace and rolling, just stopping before he’d leave the circle. He hopped off, and with a single strain of his muscles, rolled Foolish out of the circle. 

There was a moment of silence as he caught his breath, and soon the crowd erupted into cheers. He was covered in dirt, certainly staining Mariana’s overly tight shirt, but he didn’t care. He felt like he was on cloud nine as everyone hollered and punched his arms, laughing as Foolish just laid there in pure astonishment.

His brain was running a mile a minute, and in a moment of unadulterated bliss, his mind screamed at him,

“You did it, Slime.”

It took him a second to register what his brain had said, but the second it did, his heart dropped into his stomach. His name. His name was Slime. 

In a moment of disbelief, he huffed out a laugh, soon turning into full on cackles, earning curious looks from everyone around him. 

Unceremoniously, he shouted.

“My name! My name, it’s Slime! My name is Slime!”

…

The gladers roared out in excitement, screaming at the top of their lungs. Rounds of “Slime!” “Yeah Slime!” and “Welcome Slime!” rang throughout his ears, and it wasn’t long before Foolish had gotten back on his feet, slapping a rough hand on his shoulder and giving him a firm nod. 

“Welcome to the Glade, Slime.”