Chapter Text
The first thing he saw was flames all around him. Then he tasted smoke in his throat and lungs. And Newt.
What had happened?
He could feel his body aching everywhere, his head pounding and sweat escaping him. It was hot, too hot. Why it was hot? There was not an answer for that. Even opening his eyes was a struggle, his body refusing to move from his spot. When he did, he saw multiple bodies surrounding him, some burned to the bone and others bleeding from their head.
It was all terrifying to look at, but none of it was as scary as the thought of Newt being dead.
"Newt?" Thomas spoke out. He needed to find Newt, see if he was still alive. "Newt! Where are you? Call to me!" He exclaimed weakly, his throat dry and in desperate need of water.
There was no answer, only the sound of flames taking over the wood and destroying the building he was in.
"Newt, please." Thomas begged. There was still no answer, but in the vast bundle of bodies sat a blonde boy, head down and blood leaking from his head. Thomas knew it was Newt the moment their eyes. He used every ounce of strength left in him and crawled to the boy, even though his body was screaming in pain while doing so.
When he reached him, he sat up and pulled the boy to his chest. It hadn't even been a minute before Newt was bursting into tears, clutching onto Thomas's shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning in death. His tears wet the front of Thomas's shirt, yet he didn't care. All that mattered was Newt, it's always been him.
"It's okay Newt, let it all out." Thomas hushed, rocking the crying boy in his arms. It was as if all the emotions were behind a dam and it had just broken, water escaping and tearing everything in its path, with nothing to stop it.
Newt cried for what felt like forever, until he finally calmed down and basically stayed in Thomas's lap, allowing the brunette to hold him.
"I need you to come back, Newt." Thomas whispered to the boy. "You might be hurt and think you aren't valuable, but to me you're so much more." It was like Newt was a ticking time bomb, ready to blow at any moment. Thomas wanted to help him, but he wasn't sure how. He felt helpless, unequipped to handle all of this.
Newt lifted his head up, his eyes meeting Thomas. "I don't deserve a second chance in life, look at me," he brought his hand up, showing the black veins that lingered on his damaged hands. "I'm a monster, a freak."
Thomas grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, peppering the hand with small kisses. "You are no monster, Newt. You never have been one, and you never will be."
A tear slid down Newt's face, his eyes squeezing shut and his lip quivering. "You are so much more than I expected, Thomas."
With Newt distracted, Thomas grabbed the serum and stuck it in his neck. Newt screamed, his back arching and body spasming. All black disappeared from his body, veins returning to a faint blue and green, and those once black eyes now green and yellow. When the serum finally finished its job, Newt lay slumped in Thomas's arms, eyes heavy and breathing ragged.
"The serum makes you a bit woozy." Thomas stated with a small laugh.
Newt smiled back, before his expression went cold and worried. "You didn't empty yourself for me, did you?" He asked.
Thomas kissed his forehead before replying, "If it meant I could get you back then I'd have no problem with it."
The two boys sat there on the floor, neither giving a damn if the building around them was collapsing and in flames. With all sudden realization, Minho's voice was heard not far from them.
Newt's eyes went wide, his head turning to see if it was Minho he was really hearing. "Is Minho coming?" He asked.
Thomas' eyes went just as wide as Newt's, realization striking him. "Oh shit." He forgot his friends were still out there. They'd probably seen the big explosion and came rushing in to find Thomas. "I may or may not have ran in here by myself." Thomas said with a small smile.
Newt sprung to his feet and rushed over to the door in front of them. "They won't know we're in here, we have to get this door unlocked!" he exclaimed to Thomas.
The brunette got up from the floor and went to Newt's side, his knife already in his hand. As he began picking the lock in the knob, Newt looked down and his breath caught.
"Is that my knife?" he asked.
Thomas stopped his movements, feeling guilty. "I kept a lot of your things, including your knife." He got back to picking the lock, trying to ignore Newt's eyes burning holes into his face.
"That's.." Newt stopped his sentence. He placed a hand on Thomas's shoulder, making the boy look at him. "I appreciate what you did, Tommy. Everything. Even keeping my things."
Thomas stared into Newt's eyes, capturing the array of colors they held. In that very moment, he felt more connected to Newt than he has with anyone in months. Newt was the only person who understood him, and Thomas could see why: they each had their own struggles, but were able to relate and heal each other.
"God I missed you so much." Thomas said, without even realizing he said it.
Newt smiled, "I did too, but right now I'd rather we get this bloody door open before the whole building collapses on us."
Thomas obliged, picking the door open with the knife until he succeeded. As soon as he did, they both hurried out of the flaming room, sprinting toward the exit. They were almost there when a Crank came crashing into Thomas.
Thomas failed to dodge it, rolling on the ground and trying to avoid getting bit. The Crank was right about to rip Thomas's neck out when Newt came up from behind and flung a board into the Crank's head. It went crashing down, blood already oozing out of its head.
Thomas looked at Newt with wide eyes, the blonde holding the remaining wooden plank while breathing extremely hard. He kicked the Crank in the gut and threw the plank onto its body, before turning to Thomas. His eyes looked wild and bloodthirsty, no Newt in them.
"Newt, please calm down." Thomas said to the boy.
Something in Newt snapped, his wild aura disappearing and returning to normal. His breathing became calmer and his hands stopped shaking. Thomas got up and pulled the blonde into his arms, holding and rocking him slowly. This was something he found that calmed Newt down whenever he became anxious or had panic attacks.
"I've got you Newt." Thomas whispered into the boy's neck. Newt hugged him back, soft whimpers escaping him. Thomas felt so sorry for him, all these pent up emotions but with no one to talk to. What had he been thinking the entire time he was here? Did he think the world was in flames?
The sound of footsteps of screaming broke their moment of peace, both looking at the exit to see who it was. Minho came bursting from the outside, along with Gally. They were holding their guns, ready to shoot anything in their path, but they both paused when they saw who was in front of them.
Minho lowered his gun, softly speaking, "Newt?"
Gally did the same with his gun, unable to speak. "Holy shit. It really is him." he said.
Minho was the first to rush to Newt, pulling the boy into his arms and squeezing him tight. Tears fell from his eyes, broken sobs leaving him as he hugged his friend. "I can't believe it!" He exclaimed, pulling back so he could look at Newt. "You're really here—" Another sob broke through him, "—god I'm so happy I could kiss you right now."
Newt laughed at that, but he didn't seem to actually want to do that with Minho. He looked at Gally, who was still froze in his spot. "It's good to see you, mate." he said to Gally.
Gally didn't reply, only walking up to Newt and giving him a bone crushing hug. "I'm sorry." he whispered.
Newt hugged him back, nodding back as a reply. Gally was crying into Newt's shoulder and Minho was by Thomas's side.
"You are the dumbest shank ever." Minho whispered to Thomas.
Thomas let out a nervous laugh. "How?" he asked.
Minho dug through his pockets and pulled out a paper. He opened it to Thomas with a disappointed expression. "Sorry, I can't wait any longer" the note read.
Ah, the note I gave Minho before going in here, Thomas said to himself. "Yeahhh, sorry about that Minho." he said with a small laugh.
Minho only rolled his eyes at the boy, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Come on, we have to get back to the Berg before this entire place collapses."
They all got out of the building as quickly as possible, making sure not to have any other distractions. Everyone stood there and watched as the wood and concrete cracked and fell onto the ground, flaming erupting from rooms. The palace suffocated into the sand, leaving only debris.
"Well," Newt said, "I guess that's that."
Thomas rolled his eyes. He suddenly remembered the mission. "I thought we were supposed to get everyone from the palace?"
"Vince got most of them out and into the Berg," Minho answered, "don't worry Thomas, you didn't kill anyone." He patted Thomas on the shoulder with a laugh.
The joke wasn't so funny to Thomas though, he already knew he risked a lot just going in there by himself to talk to Newt. If it hadn't been for his stupid moves, maybe just maybe, the whole place wouldn't have blown up. Maybe Newt would've changed his mind if he saw Minho and his other friends.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
They made it back to the Berg, the whole trip full of groans from the cured Cranks. Every one of them got the serum and were now in a dazed state. Thomas sat in the corner he made coming over to the Crank Palace, Newt not far away. Newt was catching up with Minho, talking about how the Safe Haven looked and what it was like there.
Thomas watched Newt talk, admiring the way he looked so normal. No ounce of Crank left in him. He watched the boys' hands move around, gesturing to the things he was speaking for. And his eyes, how they darted all around the Berg; probably in shock from the last time he'd been in here.
"God you're such a creep."
Thomas jumped, not expecting someone to be watching him. It was Brenda, who had a smug look on her face. "Oh fuck off Bren'." Thomas groaned.
Brenda only laughed at his remark. She walked over and sat down next to Thomas, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I think that out of everyone who missed him the most, it's definitely got to be you, Thomas."
Thomas shook his head in disapproval. "He probably missed Minho more, since they're so close." he replied.
"Hell no!" Brenda exclaimed, "I see the way he looks—looked—at you." Adding the 'looked' was probably a bad move on her part, but it proved her point well. "He sees you as a hot cup of tea that he'd love to sip with fish and chips."
Thomas groaned, "please, not the English jokes."
Brenda threw her head back, the sweet sound of laughter escaping from her. Once she calmed down from the high, she went back to the conversation they were having. "Okay but seriously," she spoke, "he's madly in love with you, and you know it."
The leader looked down in shame. "He's not in love with me, and we're just friends. I think he just developed an emotional attachment to the first person who actually treated him like a person. And even if it was true, if he really did like me, he'd never say it—only wallow away in his little corner."
They sat there watching Newt run around with Minho, a big smile plastered on his face.
"He's hurt." Thomas suddenly said.
"He needs you, Thomas." Brenda replied, "you're the only person who truly understands him. He can't heal if you aren't by his side."
Thomas didn't reply. At this moment words were useless, what Brenda was saying made perfect sense. They both needed love and trust to heal, and the only way to accomplish that was with each other.
But Thomas was scared. Scared of being hurt, hurting Newt, hurting together. That night in the alley with Newt altered Thomas's way of thinking: Once a fearless man and now a terrified kid.
He decided not to continue the conversation, now focusing on getting the sleep he desperately needed. There were still about eight hours before they made it back to the Safe Haven, technically 10 if you counted breaks. And so, Thomas closed his eyes and let sleep take him away, far far away from here.
"What do you think would've happened if I had left Teresa in the cave, along with Aris?"
Thomas and Newt were at the edge of the Scorch, waiting by the train tracks. Ever since Minho had been taken 3 months ago by Wicked, everyone worked their butts off to get him back. A way to do it was to sabotage the trains full of immunes.
Newt had his welding gear and Thomas had his gun and radio. The plan was to melt the door handle so they could get in, then Thomas would knock down the guards and they would get Minho out.
Newt had stopped his arranging, looking at Thomas with a confused expression. "You mean when they left you for dead in the poisonous cave and then begged for your forgiveness?"
Thomas rolled his eyes, knowing Newt was exaggerating.
"Well," Newt began, "I think that we would've still ended up where we are now. Teresa and Aris could both reach into your mind and manipulate you. Not to mention she had an army of women attached to her hip."
Thomas let out a small laugh. "They didn't go into the cave with me, it was just Aris and Teresa."
"Oh? So they just continued onward and didn't even bother to look back and see if you guys were still with them?"
"Basically." Thomas got back to reloading the guns, but this time he was unloading and reloading his own gun over and over.
Newt grabbed his wrist and Thomas stopped playing with his gun. He had a look of sincerity on his face, like he felt immensely sorry for Thomas. "You couldn't have prevented anything Thomas. What happened, happened. You tried you're best, and that's all that matters."
Thomas felt tears weld in the brink of his eyes. "I could've done better." He exclaimed, his voice breaking in the process. It was truly what he believed. If he hadn't been so stupidly in love then he might've seen what Teresa was doing.
Newt shook his head. "You couldn't do better, you weren't able to."
A tear slipped from Thomas, then another, and soon he was a crying mess. The tears didn't stop, and it felt just like his first night in the maze, when he and Minho had thrown the Grievers off the cliff and Thomas burst into tears after that. He didn't have any time to fully comprehend what was happening, but after that fight he felt so overwhelmed from the events that he just broke down, like a dam flooding.
That was the same night he figured out that the world was beyond messed up, in ways he couldn't even think of.
Newt pulled the crying boy into his arms, soothing him by rubbing his back. Thomas wrapped his arms around Newt's middle and let all the sadness and tears escape him. This was the most vulnerable he's ever felt in front of someone, and he was glad it was Newt who got to experience it. He cried for what felt like hours, all the tears leaving his body until there was none left.
Newt continued to hold him, rocking side to side slowly as he whispered words of comfort. "Do you want to know a song I learned about?" he asked.
Thomas nodded, too tired to use his voice.
"It's called The Night We Met." Newt said. He began to sing the song, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt."
Thomas immediately recognized the song, but kept quiet so he could hear Newt sing.
"I've been searching for a trail to follow, again. Take me back to the night we met." Newt brought them down so they could sit next to the tracks. They were both sitting across from each other in the criss cross position. Thomas's head was tucked into the blonde's shoulder, his arms around his waist. Newt had one arm around Thomas's back and the other one cradled his head, playing with his brown locks.
"And then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do." His voice was angelic, soothing, it was just was Thomas needed. "And then I can tell myself, not to ride along with you."
Thomas preached in, wanting to sing. "I had all and then most of you," he started.
"Some and now none of you." Newt finished.
The sun had begun setting when they sang, its red and yellow color mixing together and creating a gorgeous orange in the middle. The clouds seemed to follow the sun's direction too. It illuminated them to become a light pink and orange, highlights of blue from the sky on the edges. Newt and Thomas continued singing the song until they finished, but even then they stayed in their position.
Thomas stopped crying a while ago, now sniffling and taking deep breaths. "Thank you, Newt."
The blonde hugged him tighter, a silent way of saying 'your welcome'. No words had to be said in their case, both already knew each other's body language to tell what they were saying.
The Berg arrived in Safe Haven at around 10 pm, which gave everyone enough time to unload and get all the survivors into recovery huts. Thomas helped unload all the empty serum boxes and the blankets, while Newt was brought over to the medics. Surprisingly, no one even noticed that he was here, probably because mostly everyone was asleep.
Thomas finished unloading and helping everyone into the huts, and when he made it back to his hut, he didn't even hit the pillow before he passed out. The next morning he helped bring breakfast to all the people in the huts. Breakfast was easy, some mashed potatoes and bacon. The slicers hadn't been able to breed the animals yet, so that meant they'd have to scavenge for food around the island.
One major task he had was bringing Newt his food. So with that, Thomas made his way over to the med jack's hut, while holding his food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. The inside of the hut was dark, the only source of light being the 3 lit candles in the corner. They illuminated the medic tables against the walls, painting them a dark ombre-like color.
The room that Newt stayed in had long white hanging beads on the door frame, which acted like a barrier against the world. Thomas nudged them to the side as he walked in, careful not to spill the food. He noticed that Newt wasn't awake, he was still tucked under the beige colors with his eyes closed. The brunette sighed, disappointed he couldn't talk to him.
He placed the food and water on the nightstand next to Newt, then crouched down so he was eye level with the blonde. His fingers and brain had a mind of their own, instantly reaching up to move a piece of hair away from Newt's face. Something burned in Thomas's stomach, like he wanted to protect Newt from the world.
But how could he do that when he couldn't even protect himself?
The ugly thought swirled in his mind, overwhelming him.
Newt stirred in his sleep, his brows furrowing slightly. He was probably having a bad dream, given the past 8 months he'd experienced. Thomas hesitantly placed his hand on Newt's own, feeling the heat spread throughout. This seemed to stop the frustrated look on Newt's face, because his face returned to a content expression.
God you're so...
Thomas couldn't finish the thought. He just couldn't. That memory of them in the alleyway haunted his mind, the kiss they shared not far off. Of course it wasn't bad, but just that simple action meant so many different possibilities that Thomas wasn't ready to answer.
"Tommy...?"
Thomas brought his gaze to Newt's face, finding him awake. Sleepy, but awake and ready to confront Thomas on his spacing out. "Are you doing the thing again?" he asked.
Thomas tilted his head to the side, confused by what Newt meant. "What are you talking about Newt?"
Newt smiled. "You look at the ground and begin to cry when you're in deep thought. You just did it right now."
"No I didn't, you're just making stuff up."
"No I'm not!" Newt sat up a bit so he was now held up by his arm, his head being supported by his hand. "You were literally staring at the floor and tears were building up in your eyes."
Thomas hung his head in shame. "Yeah well, it hasn't been there greatest for me lately."
Confused, Newt fully sat up and crossed his legs together. He patted the spot next to him, allowing Thomas to sit next to him. Thomas got up and sat down on the bed, the same position as Newt. Their knees touched and rubbed together, and it sent sparks up Thomas's body.
Newt placed a hand on his forearm, looking at him with adoration. "I want to know how you're feeling. You can't keep all these emotions pent up, Thomas. At some point you have to express it before it becomes too much."
Thomas rested his head on Newt's shoulder and then proceeded to let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to dump all my shit on you, Newt. You've been through way more in 8 months than I ever have."
Newt scoffed. "Rotting in a cell for 8 months? As if that's interesting." He leaned on Thomas's head, both of them staring at the same spot on the wall. "What happened after I left?"
"Well, we left the city and traveled to the Wicked facility. We got Minho out and Lawrence told us that he and his group already set the whole Wicked building in bombs. All the leftover immunes were actually hiding in the maze, so we went in there and got them out before the entire maze collapsed. Once we got out, Dr. Paige told us there was a flat trans that would take us to Safe Haven. We made it here, but Teresa died by being crushed by the ceiling."
Newt was about to ask something most likely related to Teresa but caught himself before he did. "What was it like for you here?"
"Miserable."
"Why would it be miserable?"
"Because every moment I was reminded that Teresa, Lawrence, Mary, even Dr. Paige, didn't make it out. But worst of all, you didn't make it out." Thomas let out a sigh before he continued. "It's just...you weren't here, and you were my closest friend, so you really tore me from the inside out. It still does, actually."
Newt stopped breathing overall. Maybe it was because of what Thomas said, or how he worded it, but he just couldn't reply. "When I was in the Crank Palace..." He took a short breath before he continued. "I met this lad, her name was Sady. She reminded me a lot like you. I mean, she acted the same, laughed the same; she was basically a boy version of you."
Newt tilted his head back so it was against the wall. "It made me realize just how upset and lonely I was there, how I had no one to talk to my problems about. I couldn't just go up to someone and talk about how being in a maze for 3 years affected me. I was so bloody miserable Tommy."
Thomas turned his body so he could sit facing Newt. He grabbed Newt by the bicep and rubbed his thumb back and forth. "I know it was bad there, believe me I know, but I need you to communicate with me. I want to help you heal and become human again—feel human again." There was a small pause after his words.
He was holding something back, something he didn't want to admit to Newt.
It was too soon to admit something so big like that.
So he settled with something different: he reached into his pocket and took out the picture he held. It was the one Newt and him took in the Scorch right after they escaped Wicked. While everyone was out looking for items to bring on the trip, Newt and Thomas were messing around in the photo booth section.
"Hey Newt, come and look at what I found!" Thomas exclaimed behind his shoulder.
Newt walked up behind him and looked at what Thomas had in his hands. It was a small blue Polaroid camera with funky stickers stuck on it. The corners and camera lens were a bit scratched, but Thomas didn't care. He held the camera up to his face and shot a photo of Newt. The darkness was replaced with a blinding light for just a moment before it faded back.
"Oh bloody hell Tommy!" Newt exclaimed, his hand covering his eyes.
Thomas was laughing at Newt's reaction, but he quickly regained himself so he could get the picture. He took it out of the compost and shook the picture until it was fully visible.
"Holy shit Newt, you look so angry in this!" Newt leaned forward to look at the photo, his breath hitting Thomas's neck. It sent shivers down his spine, his entire body freezing.
"I guess I do look angry." Newt mumbled.
The picture was his body in full view, a look of anger and surprise written all over his face. The camera's broken lens created a highlight around Newt, almost like he had a glowing border around him. Thomas was amazed by the sheer beauty of the boy, his eyes not leaving the picture.
"Stop starin', Tommy, you'll make me feel camera shy."
Thomas tore away his gaze from the photo and looked at Newt, realizing just how close they were. If Thomas moved even an inch, their lips would touch. He wanted to so badly; wanted to feel Newt's lips against his, taste the sweet flesh that covered the blonde's lips. Maybe, just maybe, he could let this one slide.
Newt looked dazed as well, his eyes darted everywhere by Thomas' eyes. His lids fluttered shut, mouth open and ready to take Thomas's heart away.
Just before they touched, a light erupted from the dark, which caused Thomas to snap his eyes open and look around for the flash. It was Newt, who was laughing so hard he fell to the floor.
He had taken a picture of Thomas right as they were about to kiss.
"You little—" Thomas said, but he didn't finish his sentence, because Newt's lips were on his.
It was quick and scarce, scared and trusting, everything that was erupting in Thomas's stomach at the moment. Newt's lips were soft, softer than Thomas imagined they'd be. He kissed him like there was no end, as if the world was going to crumble right this moment.
Their moment broke when Thomas could feel himself growing lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. When he pulled back, he saw Newt crimson.
"I can't believe I just did that." Newt said, obviously embarrassed of his actions.
"Don't be, it's an experiment." Thomas replied. He wanted Newt to feel comfortable with what he'd just done, even if it caught both of them off guard.
"No I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that and it just came out of the blue and now I feel really ashamed of what I just did and I understand if you feel gross and want to lea—"
It was Thomas who cut him short this time, grabbing him waist and pulling the blonde flesh against his body. He used more movement in their kiss as well, moving in sync with Newt.
It felt feverish and slow, dragging onto the point of never ending—not that Thomas minded though; he'd be fine staying here and kissing Newt.
Then, it was as if a truck had just hit Thomas and he was suddenly pulling away and scooching back. " We shouldn't be doing this." He said, voice laced with fear and resent.
Newt had a look of ashame and disappointment written all over his face. Thomas couldn't blame him; if he had just had the best kissing experience ever and the other person pulled back, well...he'd be upset too.
"Do you want this?" was what came out of Newt, so quiet and small that it was almost not heard.
"Us? This?" Thomas asked, gesturing to what they just did 2 minutes prior.
Newt nodded.
The answer to the question was...what was the answer? What could it be? What could they be? There was no telling how he could admit such a large portion of his feelings.
Thomas wasn't lying when he said he wanted to kiss Newt just to see how he felt. But there was more behind the kiss—an urgency to feel the flame in his chest when he kissed; the crave of lustful shares and finding out what lay ahead of them. He wanted to experience the electric current that flowed through his veins when they touched, even if it was just a brief brush of hands or shoulders.
"I don't know." Thomad finally answered. Settling with yes was too much and too soon, but settling for no was too little and too late.
It would never be enough, not until Thomas figured this out.
"No matter what, I'll be there for you even if you dont feel the same what." Newt said. "Although my answer is also I don't know, I'd be happy to figure it out.
Their hands intertwined and Thomas moved Newt's hand up to kiss each of his knuckles.
"Give me time, Newt. I promise I'll figure it out before it's too late."
...
Only that he didn't figure it out in time, not even remotely close to solving him feelings. 8 months later and he still didn't know what he and Newt were.
Best Friends? Yes.
Lovers? No.
Friends with benefits? Also no.
Possible lovers? Maybe, maybe not.
It was all too complicated and it hurt Thomas's brain to think about. "Is 8 months later still enough time?" He asked while looking into Newt's eyes for a sense of comfort.
"More than enough." Newt replied, already knowing what Thomas was talking about about. Somehow, remembering that moment they had with the Polaroid camera warmed Thomas's chest. Newt dropped his head onto the brunettes shoulder and nuzzled into his neck for maximum relaxation.
Before Thomas even knew it, the blonde was fast asleep and snoring softly. He moved them so they could lay down, with Newt's head on Thomas's chest and his arm draped over his torso. Thomas had one arm wrapped around his back and the other playing with the hem of his shirt.
"More than enough." He whispered to himself.
"more than enough."
"More than enough."
"More Than enough."
"More Than Enough."
More.
Than.
Enough.
Was it, though?