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Thomas sat by himself at the edge of the forest. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. The events of the day flashed through his mind: the dark, metal cage he was trapped in; the unfamiliar faces examining him and laughing at his panicked state; his brief tour of the Glade with Alby; the welcome party they had thrown for him, which he had not enjoyed at all. He was confused and overwhelmed, and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, wake up the next morning in his own bed, and realize that this was all a terrible dream.
Not that he remembered his bed. That was probably the worst part: not being able to remember a thing about his past. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, searching his brain for any morsel of memory he could get, but he came up empty. He lowered his head, burying his face in his knees, as he felt tears slide down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember who he was or where he was from; he had no sense of identity at all, and that was absolutely terrifying.
His quiet sobs subsided after a while, and Thomas took a few more deep breaths to get himself back under control. He looked up again, staring off at the Homestead. He couldn’t see much, as the only light came from a few torches mounted here and there, but he could make out faint outlines of bodies lying on the ground. The rest of the Gladers were probably asleep at this point. Thomas envied them, knowing that sleep would not come easy to him tonight.
He sighed and shifted his gaze upward. Even in his depressed state, Thomas had to admit that the night sky was quite beautiful. Stars shimmered among the sea of black, each pinprick of light conquering the suffocating darkness around it that seemed intent on snuffing it out. The moon was full that night, and Thomas could see all the mountains and craters on its surface. The sky was so open, and Thomas wanted nothing more than to be able to soar through the air, flying far away from this place. The idea brought a small smile to his face.
It didn’t last long, though, as reality hit him again. He was stuck here, trapped within the four stone walls that surrounded the Glade. He stared at them, as if they would disintegrate if he wished hard enough. They didn’t, of course, and Thomas averted his gaze, unable to keep looking at his prison.
He was sitting there motionless, unsure how much time had passed, when a twig snapped to his left. He jumped, his body tensing up as it got ready to fight, but he relaxed when he saw Newt quietly limping toward him. Newt. Thomas had met him earlier in the day. He didn’t know why, but something about Newt had instantly calmed him, which was quite the accomplishment, considering Thomas had been having a complete emotional breakdown at the time. But one quick smile from Newt had reassured him like nothing else could, and for the rest of the day, Thomas couldn't help but wonder how Newt had done that.
Thomas looked up at Newt as the boy reached him. The moon was directly behind him, creating a silver halo around his slim figure. He sat down next to Thomas, giving him a small smile. Once again, Thomas felt all his concerns melt away at the sight.
“How ya holdin’ up, Tommy?” Newt asked. Thomas didn’t know why Newt called him Tommy, especially when everyone else still referred to him as Greenie, but he decided he liked it.
“Better than before,” Thomas replied, leaving out the words “you arrived” that would’ve formed the whole truth.
“I’m glad,” Newt said. They sat beside each other for a while, staring up at the stars, before Thomas broke the silence.
“How do you do it, Newt?”
Newt turned to him with a confused look. “Do what, Tommy?”
“Do all this.” He gestured around him. “How do you wake up every morning and go through the same routine day after day, not knowing whether you’ll ever make it out alive?”
Newt looked down at his hands, and Thomas thought he saw a flash of pain in his eyes.
“It’s not always easy,” he said finally, his gaze still fixed firmly on his hands. “Some days are harder than others. There are days when I’m lying on my blanket before bed and I want nothing more than to just give up.” Thomas could see that Newt had tears in his eyes now, and he regretted asking the question. But before he could change the topic, Newt snapped his head back up and met Thomas’s gaze. “But you know what keeps me going?”
Thomas shook his head.
“You.”
Thomas looked at him in shock. “What?” he finally stammered. “But you didn’t even know me until a few hours ago!”
Newt chuckled, thoroughly enjoying Thomas’s flabbergasted expression. “I don’t necessarily mean you you. I mean people like you. I mean you and Minho and Alby and all the other Gladers. We’ve been here for two years, Tommy. We’ve given this place everything we have. We’ve given each other everything we have.” Newt paused, turning toward the sky again. “Do you remember any constellations, Tommy?”
“No,” Thomas replied, his eyes moving back and forth between Newt and the stars.
“Neither do I. I wish I did. Whenever I feel like giving up, I look up at the stars and I try to find some. And I realize that we’re not so different from those stars. Each one is a tiny point of light, surrounded by a dark and unforgiving environment. And alone, they wouldn’t be that impressive. But together, they form a beautiful constellation. And if one of them disappears, well you wouldn’t have a constellation anymore, would you?”
Newt turned back to Thomas when he asked his question, and Thomas could only stare at him in wonder. When he saw that Thomas wasn’t going to respond anytime soon, Newt smiled a little and went on.
“So yeah, some days are rough. And sometimes you feel like your world is crumbling around you and nothing can ever make it better. But we need each other here, Tommy. We’re all we have. And that’s what keeps me going.”
They sat for a long time after that, neither willing to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. Thomas looked with renewed appreciation at the stars above, contemplating Newt’s words. Finally, Newt spoke up.
“Alright, Tommy. It’s late. You’ve got a long day ahead of you so you need to get some sleep.”
Thomas nodded and got up, walking next to Newt as they made their way back to the Homestead. Newt’s words and presence had done wonders for Thomas’ racing mind, and he was actually starting to feel a little drowsy. They arrived at where Thomas would be sleeping, and Thomas collapsed onto his blanket.
“Good night, Tommy,” Newt said with a smile, before turning to walk back to his spot.
“Good night, Newt,” Thomas replied.
As he watched Newt’s retreating figure, Thomas knew that Newt was right. As long as they had each other, as long as he had Newt, he would be fine.