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“You’re not her.”
Brenda then simply walked away.
Thomas turned around the room spinning, he was spinning. Spinning into Winston. Oh my god Winston. The sick, dark veins spanning his face and the dark blood pouring from his gaping mouth. Thomas stepped backwards, spinning again, god the drink was worse than Gally’s.
He was caught by a body, he turned and saw Newt. God it was Newt. His face like Winston’s but worse, fair hair ripped from his scalp, eyes dark and clouded. Please, not Newt.
This Crank version of Newt leaned towards Thomas, growling. Stepping back, tripping and falling. The grievers looming over him. It was all gone. He had been caught.
Thomas woke, gasping and lurching up. Teresa in his face, Minho right behind. Something in Thomas’ head clicked.
“Newt.”
The blond looked away from the owner of the crank party being beat to smithereens by Jorge. “Tommy.” He got up, walking briskly to the bed where the other two sat with Thomas, “Looks like that was some party, mate.” A small smirk on his face.
Teresa coughed, “How are you doing, Tom?”
Thomas looked over the room to Brenda, glaring daggers. For the “You’re not her” comment, but honestly he needed to have said it about someone else.
“Newt.” Thomas reached out, brushing his hand across the scarf.
“Yeah, Tommy?” Looking down, worry mixed with joy, Tommy was awake, but Marcus needed taking care of.
“I… I saw….” he looked past Newt, “is that Marcus?”
Thomas meant to tell Newt, but once they were safe, they no longer were. Then Minho was caught, and the kids needed to be saved.
Thomas jogged up to Newt, who was talking to Sonya and Aris about the trains. “Hey, hey Newt!”
The guy turned around, “hey, hey Tommy. What’s going on? Any news?”
Thomas stopped in his tracks, “No, I remember something from the Crank party, something I’d like to talk to you about.” He looked at the two members of Group B, “Alone. It’s kind of traumatizing.”
Newt stepped towards Thomas, “Of course Tommy.” The look of determination and fear etching further into his face, Thomas wanted to wipe it all away, but they had duties to do, people to save. That look would only go further in.
The two walked in silence for a few moments, until Thomas deemed it far enough. “I saw you. Newt, I saw you in there. You were a Crank.” The voice just a whisper of a breath.
“Tommy-“ Newt began.
“No, I know it’s insane and wild and probably impossible, but it’s what I saw.” Thomas began to get the panicked look that graced his face when thinking of anyone lost or gone.
Newt stepped in front of him, “Thomas. One, I’m still here and alive, do not freak out on me.” He took in a breath, “Two, Tommy, I’m not immune.”
Thomas looked up into his eyes, “Newt? How would you…”
“Made a stop at a city on the way back from the last run. Checkpoint verified, I’m not Immune. I’m not infected, but I’m not safe.” Newt’s eyes held a fierceness that hadn’t been seen for weeks. “And don’t you bloody think I won’t be going with you to get Min. I don’t care about my health, all that matters now is saving him. He saved me, and I will save him.”
“Newt. Of course. Just. Please. Be careful for me though.”
“Always.”
Thomas caught the look Newt had given in the tunnel. Thomas caught the shaking hands. Thomas caught the gasp from Gally. He ignored it. If his fucking blood had helped Brenda, he will make it save Newt.
“You still have feelings for her.” The words barely a whisper.
Thomas sputtered, “What. No-“ he was shoved in to the wall and Newt’s face was masked by the one from the hallucination.
Then it cleared up to Newt, grumpy, angry, sick, Newt. “Don’t lie to me!” Thomas caught the glaze fade from his eyes as Newt pulled away, whispering, “Oh my god. I’m sorry.” And rushing out of the planning room.
He sat on the ledge, swinging his legs back and forth when Thomas found him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Newt.”
“I guess there’s no hiding now.” The sun hitting the gold hair to cast it in yellows, making it brighter than it actually was. The sun hitting a risen sleeve, the sun hitting veins, catching the unsettling blues and greys.
“When did it happen?” Thomas’ voice wavered as Newt looked up at him from his seat on the precipice.
“Ironically enough. Right after you told me about the Crank party hallucination.” He shrugged as if his life wasn’t on the line, like it was who got the last sandwich. “Oh Tommy. Don’t buggin’ cry for me. Focus those emotions on Min. He saved me and now I need to save him.”
Newt looked over, “Oh bloody hell, you don’t know the truth.” He looked down to his right ankle. “You know how I got my limp?”
Thomas didn’t answer, apparently running from grievers was not the answer, but Newt was still terrified of the maze and what happened within it.
“I climbed a wall. And jumped. Broke my leg. Minho found me and dragged me to get treatment.” He sighed and leaned back on his palms, “One good thing about this virus is that it lets you remember, before you forget again. I think the grievers had a form of the Flare. But one, it was not as strong, two, we had treatment, three, you all were already immune. But it let memories slip past the swipe. The Flare destroyed that.” Newt glanced over to Thomas, who looked shocked and lost. “I guess seeing your mum and dad get shot and murdered and being picked up only, because you were the only one left besides the one they wanted, leaves you with some depression. Before the Glade, I had medication. During, not so much. Now, still nothing.”
Thomas nodded, knowing the pain of panic.
“I guess I meant to say that I don’t bloody care if I live, quite honestly. My life has been a mistake after another mistake. I wasn’t supposed to be in that maze. But Min deserves to live. If he doesn’t get to paradise I will haunt your ass.” He smiled in a small, sad way.
Thomas whispered an “Okay.” Then more quietly, “You deserve to live, too.”
“Thomas! If you don’t kill me, I will kill you!”
“Thomas! You can still save him!”
Sounds and feelings surrounded Thomas, sounds of Teresa, sounds of teeth, sounds of sobbing from two teens, sounds of unforgettable words, whispers of “Please, Tommy, please,”, feeling of the cold ground, feeling of the knife piercing his chest, feeling of his heart dropping into an abyss.
As Newt fell, Thomas caught the look of Brenda coming to them a tad too late. He caught the sobs from Minho. He caught the tears on Fry’s face, matching his own. He caught the glint of the dagger still in his best friends chest. And he walked away. Time to finish this. For Newt.
Minho screamed, the Berg was near. “We have got to get him on that! I’m not fucking leaving him!”
Gally grabbed his shoulders as the other panicked and flailed his arms, tears on both men’s cheeks, “Min! No one said we were going to leave him. Now, help me carry him.”
The Berg landed and the Gladers plus one walked in.
The young men set the fragile looking body on a bed as Sonya rushed in.
“Oh my god.” She went down, leaning her head to the wounded chest, coming back up and pressing fingers to a veiny wrist.
“What are you trying to do, Sonya!? He’s fucking gone!” Minho screamed, his world crashing on him, the torture catching him, the relief of being found catching him, then the loss of his ‘mate’ catching him.
“You dumbasses, you are so lucky you didn’t pull this knife out, then he would be dead.” Her words sharp and angry, laced with worry as well. She pulled back and grabbed Brenda’s arm, the one holding the blue liquid from Thomas’ blood. “He has a heartbeat.”
The girls rushed into action, stabbing a thigh, and working on the knife still lodged in Newt’s chest.
When they finally got it out, and without him bleeding out or scraping the heart so close trying so hard to beat. Newt’s back arched, eyes flying open and a scream ripping through the Berg.
They had found Thomas and Teresa.
Thomas was in the Berg, and Newt stopped screaming and fell into a sleep, matching Thomas’.
Newt woke to a candle and a hand on his arm. He sat up, “I… where… I’m dead..” breath coming in short breaths, coming close to hyperventilation.
Sonya woke to the gasping, gasping her self, “Newt! Calm down, please. It’s okay, you missed your heart and Brenda had a vial of Thomas’ cure.” She watched the breathing slow and gather to long breaths, reaching a hand to wipe tears.
“Lizzy?” Sonya perked up at the name, “Where’s Tommy?”
She leaned to his arm that she held, resting her head on it, “He’s still recovering. Asleep.”
“Recovering?” Newt’s face turned sour again, “Did…” his voice becoming small and meek, “Did I hurt him?”
“Well yes, but that’s not why he’s in there. You gave him a few scrapes, but Rat Man gave him a hole in his gut, bud.” She pulled her head up off of his arm. “When you can walk and he can get visitors, we will get you two back together. For now, Minho wants to see you.”
The other guy walked in, “Nice to see you alive, Newtie.” Minho smiled at the young adult in the makeshift hospital bed. “Welcome to Paradise, you shuck face.” The triplet smiles criss crossed the room, until a scream from close by ripped the very fabric of Newt’s joy. The scream was his name.
The screams died slowly to whimpers, “He’s been doing that every once and awhile. We’re pretty sure he’s just having nightmares, but it’s still fucked.” Minho glanced to where the screams came from, “You being a mother hen has made him rely on you.” Min looked back to Newt and Sonya on the bed. Catching the look of desperation on his friend’s face. “You-.”
Newt nodded, “It’s been obvious from the very beginning, before the maze even, even when I wanted to hate him.”
Sonya pushed his arm and laughed, “I’m pretty sure it’s the same for him, Sam.”
Minho’s eyebrow quirked up, “Sam and Lizzy? I’m not quite connecting the dots here.”
“Ah. The Flare destroyed the Swipe. Lizzy is my sister, Sonya.” Newt clinched the blanket, only guessing what the long term damage of brain destroying viruses would be.
“And WICKED removed my Swipe. Thought it be cool to study the effects of remembering the past, but never being able to reach it.” She shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, because hey, my big brother is alive.” Newt laughed and weakly pushed her.
The room quieted down, “Is he next door?” Minho nodded. “Alright. I’d like to go and see Paradise, but first, can I see him?”
“Of course, bud.”
Someone had made Newt a cane, seeing as his limp had become more pronounced in the past few days, he leaned it up against the wall, and sat down on the medical bed, “Hey, mate. Don’t know where you put my letter, but I’m here to say it’s not very useful now, as I can probably just tell you face to face now.”
He grabbed the hand of the sleeping teen, “I’m alive, you’re safe, and all you have to do now is wake up.” Sighing he rose from the bed, looking to Minho, “Tell me when he wakes? He thinks I’m dead, and if I thought you or he was dead, and I woke up, I’d be a wreck.”
Min nodded and grabbed Newt’s cane, propping him up, “Yeah. But for now, get yourself some food, I bet Fry misses you.”
“So, what I’m saying is this place has a klunk load of canned food. Our island was home to a resort and a canning factory-“ Newt laughed next to Toby, the wondrous Fry, “What? I know it’s a weird combo, but the cans are still good and at least we homes that are already built.”
Newt reached out at the frowning cook, “No, that’s not why I’m laughing, you said klunk. I remembered why we had those words.”
Toby leaned against the log, “And why would that be?” Twin smiles on each other, allowing the world, what was left of it, to see their big ‘fuck you’ to WICKED.
Newt raised a hand, hiding his mouth, muffling his laughter, “Min would make random words to use as curses to piss off the WICKED guys. Thought it was hilarious.” Toby has a look of nostalgia, “It was, though no one told him, or his ego would be bigger than earth.” Steps neared the two on the shore, Newt and Toby turning to see Minho and Gally speed towards them, “Speak of the bloody devil.”
“He’s awake.” Minho spoke between gasps for air, “And he’s freaking out.”
Gally nodded along, “He’s saying it’s his fault, that he didn’t listen. He’s having a panic attack in there.”
Newt rose from the ground, cane digging in to the sand, “I can’t go very fast, can someone go ahead and calm him?”
“Brenda is trying. He’s still freaking out though.” Gally’s eyebrows scrunching to the middle of his face. “I can carry you. He needs you, now.”
The group of Gladers settled down at the doorway to the room, Gally letting Newt down, and stopping.
“Wait.” Minho breathed, “Newt only, Thomas needs him and he needs to know he’s alive.” The others agreeing and Newt pushing off with his cane.
“Hey, Tommy. Welcome to Paradise.”
“Newt?” Thomas looked up from where his face had been in his hands, “You’re… I can’t be dead, Brenda is here. But..”
“Tommy. You’re not dead, and neither am I, turns out I have horrible aim while going insane.” A smile pressed on his lips, “Now, with you having a hole in you, I haven’t had a hug. Can I come over there?”
Thomas looked like the world was still shattered, but that it could be glued together. “I… yes. I need.. can I?”
Newt wobbled to the bed, “Can you what?”, he placed the cane down, leaning against the bed.
Whispering, so it could barely be heard by anyone unless they were close, “Can I touch you?” A tentative hand reaching out to reassure that this wasn’t a hallucination, like at the party, or a dream, or a ghost. Newt nodded, blond hair bouncing along, and Thomas touched his arm, the arm Newt had shone him, feeling the skin, feeling the lack of poisoned veins, feeling the warmth, feeling the heartbeat. And Thomas promptly started to cry.
“Tommy. Don’t cry over me, I’m fine.” Newt placed his hand on Thomas’ cheek, wiping the tears away and smoothing the tear tracks. His heart broke. If Newt had seen Minho go the way he had, or god forbid if he had to watch Thomas go through that, then he’d be a broken shell, too.
Thomas looked into Newt’s eyes, then moved his hand, wrapping and arm around Newt and pulling him in for a hug, “No, I’m happy. I’m so happy. You’re okay.” A gasp shaking his body, in turn shaking Newt. The two pulled back, Newt’s hand on Thomas’ leg and Thomas’ hand on Newt’s arm. “How did it happen? How are you here?”
Newt looked behind him to the door, “Maybe Minho should tell you, since he was the one to drag me into the Berg.” Minho, Gally, and Toby looking around the frame, following Newts words and walking in.
Minho’s step confident and happy, his friends were safe, no sign of any infections, awake, and moving. “Well, started with you walking off with a gun looking like you were about to commit right there. Then-“
Gally smiles as he spoke up, “He got all angry, yelling that Newt needed to be taken to Paradise, as if we weren’t going to grab him and jet anyways. Then Sonya was on the Berg, Harriet and her trekked to Denver with Vince, mainly because Newt running off scared the shit out of her. And honestly that saved his life, having a caring sister. And Minho was yelling while she was checking vitals, and rushing about. He was screaming about how it was useless. And I swear to god, she was going to rip him apart. She said we were lucky that we weren’t dumb enough to pull the knife out. It was keeping him alive, pulling it out would’ve caused Newt to bleed out and going into shock slowed his brain enough to avoid going past the Gone. She turned to Brenda and stabbed Newtie here with the cure. The only other vial besides the one you had on you.”
Toby took up the next set of facts as they all sensed it was sensitive, it showed the care they all showed for each other in a weird way. “We found you on the building,” He swallowed, “With Teresa, and the screaming started. It didn’t end until you were safe in the Burg, of all the stuff we’ve done in our lives, that’s officially the scariest.” He pulled up a chair from where guest could visit, “Both of you. God. You two were touch and go for so long, both of you scream while asleep. Both of you were maybe suffering from concussions, and blood loss. But you’re both also stubborn as hell. I do remember hearing about Newt consistently visiting Sonya to make sure she was okay before the maze, and him refusing to forget her name. Thomas just seems to defy all logic and survive.”
Newt felt the hand on him clench. “I remember that. The first day you came to my room, and before you left for the maze. You were crying.” Thomas felt memories fading into view like a polaroid picture.
“Well I’m glad the Swipe is wearing off, but you don’t have to mention me bloody crying, Tommy.” Newt smiled down at Thomas, “Some of us are regaining memories, me, because of the Flare, Lizz, because WICKED thought remembering your parents and brother half way through the maze would be fun to test. Gal, because griever stings, probably what’s going on with you, and other Gladers picking up the pieces slowly, like our Toby here.”
“Toby.. that’s your name?” Thomas spoke softly, throat still stinging from crying and screaming.
“Yes, but Frypan is still good. Just not Sigmund. We get to decide our names here, I chose to leave WICKED in the past. Those who remember usually pick their birth names, those who don’t get to create one for themselves if they choose to change. Some are weird, like Newt and Sonya, and use birth and WICKED names.” He shrugged, “You can choose, too, when you can get up and handle a dinner.”
Thomas tapped Newt with a finger, “Wait, What’s your name? The birth one?”
“Samuel. Lizzy mostly calls me Sam though.” He moved his hand to hold the one holding his arm.
“Sammy.” Newt broke out into a laugh, bright.
“Of course it has to rhyme with Tommy.” Others erupting into laughter. They could be teens, reclaim their lost childhood.
Once the laughter settled down, Gally raked a hand through his hair, “A while ago, we looked for any trace of parents of kids sent to the trials. Ended up finding everyone’s names. The birth ones with WICKED names and the letter number combo. Thomas, do you want to know your name?”
Newt squeezed Thomas’ hand, as if saying any answer is a perfect answer. “Uh. Sure, hit me with it.”
“Stephen.”
The phrase came back to Thomas like the bullet had, a punch to his gut. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen. My name is Stephen.
“When you can walk you can pick a name, that’s just another choice you can take.” Gally stood from a chair. “Most of the girls chose new names, except Sonya and Harriet. Aris goes by Aristotle, thinks it’s hilarious, honestly I should of gone with Galileo, be reminded of who we are defying.”
Thomas walked up to the mini stage, standing next to Newt, Sammy, his glue. Newt placed a hand on his shoulder, “Alright! Welcome the reason we are here! He fought WICKED tooth and nail, even while his friends were stuck in the maze, I’ve read the files. He’s the reason some of us are alive today. The reason why even the few non-immunes here are safe no matter what happens. He’s the cure, the bloody Elite, along with Aristotle that is. And what’s your name, mate?”
Thomas took it all in, at every praise, people leaned in, caught in the enigma that was the top Candidate. “My name is Thomas and Stephen.”
Newt chuckled softly, “Alright, another double name, welcome Thomas Stephen to Paradise!” The crowd that had leaned in with every mention of good deeds roared and the flames of the fire had seemed to go higher.
“Sammy, how long do you think we’ve been here?”
Newt sighed, “Well, the oldest kid is, what, five? Took a year to settle in to life. So I’m guessing six years, why, Tommy?”
Thomas hummed, “Just waiting for it to get past twelve years.” Reaching our a hand and grabbing Newt’s, both staring into the stars.
“Well, we’re halfway there.” Newt glanced to Thomas, “And I couldn’t have imagined a better place than here. Next to you, that is.” He grinned in the dark, the far off light of the fire allowing view of each other.
“Oh you sap.” Thomas laughed, grabbing Newt and pulling him to his chest, causing laughter to escape the blond, til the sounds of the waves lapping the shore and breathing with the beating of hearts were left. Thomas traced a finger over the scar on Newt’s chest, Newt turning to trace its twin. “Hm, I’m pretty glad you have horrible aim.”
Newt weakly shoved him, laughing again, “You’re awful.”
“Yeah, Yeah. I love you, too, Newtie.”
“Of course you do, Stephen.” He settled back down in to Thomas’ arms, “I love you, Tommy.”