Work Text:
That day started like any other. Wake-up, breakfast delivered to his room, then Thomas was escorted to the Monitor Hall. There were already some people there working at their individual stations, which was unusual since normally he and Teresa were among the first to arrive. Maybe they were working the night shift? But why would they still be here at this hour?
That wasn’t the only thing that seemed odd though. The thing that hit Thomas as he entered the room was the heavy atmosphere. It hung in the air, so thick it was almost a solid wall.
Thomas turned to the white clad man escorting him and asked, “Did something happen?”, but he received no answer. The man just gave him a bored sideways look and continued to guide him to his seat. Teresa was already there at her work station right behind Thomas’. He nodded a greeting to her and took his place, but as soon as they were left alone - or as alone as they could be- he turned around towards her and scooted his chair closer.
“Teresa!” He said in something between a hiss and a whisper. She slowly turned towards him but kept her gaze locked on a point slightly to her left. “What’s happened? Why isn’t anyone saying anything?”
She looked up then, and her eyes were filled with sorrow. “Tom, please don’t go looking for it. Please.” She begged. She blinked away a stray tear and turned back to her monitor, refusing to answer any more questions that Thomas flung her way.
Eventually he gave up trying to get her to spill. He would find out himself, no matter what Teresa told him. Nothing could be worse than not knowing.
He decided to start with just the normal routine of checking in on the activity in the Glade to see if he could figure out something from there. As soon as the video feed came up on the screen, he knew something was terribly wrong. The Glade was usually run like a well-oiled machine, but this morning it seemed like all the energy had been sucked out of the boys. They slumped, some just sat around not doing any work. Some even looked like they were crying. And- oh no - the Runners weren’t out in the Maze. They walked around like ghosts, and Thomas found Minho slouched by a tree in the Deadheads. And Newt… Thomas couldn’t see Newt anywhere, no matter how many Beetle Blade cams he checked.
A feeling of dread started up in the pit of his stomach, growing bigger and darker, grabbing on to his heart with an iron fist. With a horrible sense of unrealism Thomas began to go back through the feed captured during the night until he found what he’d been looking for.
At 4.56AM, a Beetle Blade noticed Newt leaving the Homestead. The little camera followed him as Newt walked around the Glade; past the forest, through the gardens, finally ending up by the Box. For a few moments he just stood there, staring at the heavy metal gates as if they had personally offended him. Then he leaned down, grabbed the handle and started pulling one side open. Thomas could see the strain in Newt’s arms as he did a job normally handled by two people, but Newt did manage to get it open. Of course the Box itself wasn’t there, just a gaping empty hole.
Thomas’ heart hammered so hard he thought it might fly out of his chest as Newt sat down and swung his legs over the edge. Newt took a deep breath and looked up for a moment with an expression of pure pain. Then he noticed the Beetle Blade sticking up out of the grass, and as if flicking a switch the pained look turned to one of anger.
“Is this funny to you?” He spat in the camera’s direction. “Am I entertaining you? You all think you can do whatever you want, toying with people’s lives while you sit in your high chairs watching us run around like bloody mice. Well fuck you all. This one’s on you!” And then he pushed off, jumping down into the black abyss.
Thomas looked away. He didn’t want to see it, didn’t think he would have been able to anyway with the tears blurring his vision and sobs wracking through his body. He still heard it though. He heard the swoosh of the metal blades shooting out from the hole walls, and the splotch of a body sliced in half. Waves of pain flowed through Thomas whole being, worse than anything he’d ever felt, and his heart felt like a shattered bloody lump. He didn’t think he would ever feel okay again, didn’t even care if he never did, just begged anyone that would listed to please, please, please let this be a lie. Newt couldn’t be dead, oh please, not him! Anyone but him.