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It had been 30 years. 30 years since his heart had stopped, never to beat in the right rhythm again. 30 years since he’d lost both Teresa and Newt.
Thomas had seen the world end. He’d had his memories wiped, he’d had survived the trials WICKED had put upon them. He’d fought so hard and lost so much. And in the end, when they had reached the Safe Haven, it hadn’t felt worth it. He still wasn’t sure if it had been.
He’d seen his people build society anew. He’d seen them thrive and fight for survival because none of them knew what they were doing, and farming was way harder than it seemed.
He’d seen them live and laugh and start families and build something new and beautiful. Something that could actually be a new start for humankind.
He’d raised Kira and seen her grow into a fierce and independent woman. And he’d seen her leave years ago, to explore what was left of the planet, to scavenge whatever she could find. He hadn’t heard of her ever since, but he trusted her enough to know that she was safe and whole.
And he’d loved people. He’d loved Kira more than he ever thought he could. He’d loved his friends and his life and his old dog, Wilma.
And he’d loved Gally and Minho. So hard, so desperately. He’d loved them in so many ways, but still not in the way they would have deserved. But they’d been okay with that.
They’d been in love with him and each other and that had been enough. They’d been through so much and they could give each other some sort of comfort no one else would ever be able to.
And loved them he had. They’d been happy. Living, alive. Working hard.
It hadn’t always been easy. Times had been so hard for all of them. Hunger and disease had spread and threatened their little community. But they had endured, and they had lived on and on.
Until they hadn’t. Because the life they were living wasn’t the same as it had been for the generations before them. They worked so many hours a day to just keep afloat. It took them years to figure out how to farm and tend to the crops. And decades to figure out which vitamins and minerals they needed and how to get them. In the end, many of them aged way faster than people usually did in the modern world. As far as they remembered, at least. But nothing about this life had been modern. No technology, no medicine. Life was hard and unforgiving and people died. A lot of them.
They had kids too, of course. And some immunes kept coming even years after they had arrived here. But still, they were dying out. Sooner or later the human race would be gone.
But still. They’d made it further and farther than anyone had ever thought. And it had been worth it, at least kind of.
Thomas had kept his promise. He’d lived his life. He’d been happy. Oh so happy.
His scars had healed. The agony he had felt over the death of those he had loved most had become a distant, fond memory. He liked to remember them, now. He smiled at the thought of them. He had lost them, of course. But he had also known them, and loved them and had them love him in return. Nothing could take that away from him.
*
Thomas stood still at the beach of their literal safe haven. They’d moved further into the lands to farm, but he still loved the beach and the sea and its winds and smells and sounds.
He sat down where he thought the memory rock had once been. Floods, wind and time had taken it away, taken their memories and pain with it.
He looked out over the ocean, where a soft breeze lulled him in. Here, it seemed as if nothing had changed. It could still be the old world, or it could have been thousands of years prior. Nothing ever changed here and at the same time, everything did.
When Minho had died seven years ago, he and Gally had been devastated. It had come unexpected, an accident. One day he was there, waking up next to them, joking, touching them, kissing them, holding them. Leading them. And the next moment he was gone. They had held his body, sobbing and not understanding. But they’d still had each other. And that had meant something. They hadn’t buried him, because freedom meant too much to their little community. People were given to the sea to do with them what it would. They were set free. Minho would have loved their little gathering in his honor. They drank and laughed and shared memories about him. They’d basked in his light, in his love for people and togetherness. They’d all cried, but it had been good. Minho’s life had been good. So much better than he’d ever anticipated.
And life had gone on. Sure it had been different. They missed him, but they were also growing old themselves. They still worked hard and took part in politics and decisions about their society, but the younger people had long taken over from them. At night he and Gally held each other tightly and let time and grief consume them again after what felt like a lifetime ago.
Gally and Thomas lived at the very edge of their encampment. Solitude and silence had been important to them after a life of noise and people and the very distant memory of dying people screaming in their dreams. It hadn’t been long after Minho’s death that Kira decided to join the next group of explorers to find other survivors or habitable places. She’d been sad and happy to leave her chosen family behind, but at the same time she’d know they would be okay. Whatever happened, they’d be okay. And they were.
Until Gally got sick and Thomas didn’t understand the world anymore. Because this universe had taken everything away from him once already, and now it was doing it again. It didn’t matter that they were old for their communities’ standard. They they’d had a long and full life despite everything. That they’d been happy.
It wasn’t enough. Thomas wanted more and it took him almost too long to accept this fate of his. He raged and hoped so hard. He couldn’t accept that he’d lose Gally too. So he avoided talking about it until Gally was bedridden and desperate to get him to admit defeat.
“Thomas, please. Come here.”
And at that moment it had hit him. Newt all over again. And he couldn’t avoid this. Couldn’t keep it from happening. Again.
Thomas couldn’t even look at him. “No. I’ve got to go to work. They’re counting on me.”
Gally coughed, his hands gripping the railing of their bed. “Please… Please Thomas.”
Thomas closed his eyes. Gally had never been one to beg for something. He sat down at his partner’s bedside and grabbed his hand. “I’ll be back soon, love. Just take your medicine and tonight we’ll talk, okay?”
Gally huffed. He was annoyed and weak. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold on for much longer. You have to face this, Thomas.”
Thomas looked at him, really looked at him. Gally had been sick for months. They didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t really matter either way. They couldn’t cure him.
“I can’t… Gally, I can’t lose you too. I can’t. Please.” His voice was shaking, and flashbacks took ahold of him again, of a time when he lost Newt in similar albeit completely different circumstances. The similarities weren’t obvious, but again it was Thomas who was losing someone. And he knew that he’d never learned to do that gracefully.
“It’s okay, Thomas. It’s been good, hasn’t it?” Gally smiled weakly, remembering their life together. Who would have thought that he’d end up loving this stubborn, good-for-nothing Greenie one day?
Thomas shook his head, still in denial. But looking at Gally and hearing his words made him realize that even though he wasn’t ready and would probably never be ready, he needed to face this now. Otherwise, he’d never get to say goodbye. Not being able to say goodbye to Minho had hurt the most about his accident.
“I love you, Gally. God, I love you so much”, he whispered, lifting Gally’s hand up to his face to kiss his knuckles.
“I know you do, Thomas. You’ve given us so much. You saved us from the maze, from WICKED, you’ve given us Kira as a kid to look after.. A hope to have after.. after everything. And- and you’ve given us all the love that you could give.” Gally smiled, softly and sadly.
“I-“ Thomas surpressed a sob. “I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry that I could never… You guys deserved so much more than that. Than- than me.” His voice broke.
Gally shushed him with a gesture. “You loved Minho and me. More than we ever dared to hope. That’s enough. We knew that we could never replace Newt, Thomas.”
Thomas swallowed hard. He had never coped with Newts death, and he had never been able to fall in love with anyone else. Newt had been it.
But he had loved them for all it was worth. Loved them fiercely and loyally and kissed them and slept with them and it had been enough for all of them.
There hadn’t been much of a spark. Or nervous first dates or flirting or butterflies.
But there had been a deep comfort born from a mutual understanding and a shared past. There had been warmth and love and whispered nonsense after nightmares. There had been hands holding his when he started shaking. There had been pleasure and lust and breathing each other in. There had been forgetting his past and himself too, sometimes. And there had been finding himself, too. Realizing what he wanted and what he was good at. Supporting each other. Knowing that they were real and true and wouldn’t just leave.
Because Gally and Minho had been his and he had been theirs. And that had given him a sense of security that he hadn’t even dreamed of before. Maybe it wasn’t romantic, but it sure as hell let him sleep better at night. Just the knowledge that he wouldn’t ever be alone again.
They had been closer than anyone else they’d ever met and it had been good.
It had been so good.
“I won’t be okay, Gally. I’m so scared. I won’t survive this.” His fingers trembled as he stroked Gally’s face, framing it with his hands.
“I know, love. I wish it weren’t this way, but I know. I wouldn’t either. Just- Thomas, promise me one thing, okay?”
Thomas wiped at the tears spilling from his eyes.
“I can’t promise that, Gally. I can’t.”
He couldn’t “try” to live on. Or find love again. Or live his life or whatever bullshit Gally would demand.
Gally laughed, his whole thin and worn frame shaking from it.
“I get it, okay? That’s not what I mean. I just-“ He pressed his face into Thomas’s palm. It hurt Gally to see him like that, and the knowledge about what Thomas would possibly do after his death ripped him apart. But he couldn’t blame him. He would do the same if their roles were reversed.
“Don’t regret this, okay? I know it hurts and it won’t stop hurting and you’ll think that you might die. And maybe you will, because there is only so much pain a human can handle. But don’t look back at this life with regret, okay?” He pulled at his arm until Thomas got the hint and leant forward, their foreheads resting against each other.
“It was worth it, okay? All this pain and misery and the hurting and crying and sobbing was worth it. Because we had each other. Remember all of that. Remember all the love and light. Remember how we held each other after nightmares. How the two of us had each other the last seven years. How we found each other again, after every fight. How we re-discovered outdoors sex as old men last spring." Gally laughed heartily, but his breath was still shallow and his face pasty. Thomas' face went red, even after all those years, and a smile snuck through his tears. Gally's eyes softened as if his only goal had been to get him to lighten up.
"Remeber how proud we were of Kira for, well, literally everything. Remember Minho, the way he looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. Remember Aris and Brenda and how tight they held you because you’ve been their best friend for decades. Remember Teresa and how protective she was about you. Remember Alby and Chuck and Frypan. And remember Newt. All of him, his smile and his lips and his stupid hair and his hands holding yours and his voice and the absurd way he called you Tommy.” Gally smiled through all of his tears.
“Promise me to only remember the wonderful and beautiful things. Leave the bad and the painful ones behind, okay? Wherever you go after this, only take the good memories.”
*
The problem was, Thomas thought, that he didn’t believe in anything after. He knew that back in the day people had believed in God, or Gods, and had hoped and prayed that there would be a heaven, a place of peace and calm and light. But Thomas didn’t believe that. His whole life had been about survival, about living and staying alive. About keeping the people he loved alive.
And most of them were dead, now.
And Thomas didn’t believe that he would ever see them again. He wished, sometimes, that he would. He longed for that peace of mind. But he didn’t.
He knew with a fierce and bitter certainty that when he died, he would be gone. Just gone.
Fade to black and well, that’s it, really.
He wouldn’t walk on clouds, meeting his mom and dad. He wouldn’t see a smiling, happy Chuck. Find Teresa, whole and sane. He wouldn’t run into Minho’s and Gally’s arms, waiting for him there.
And he wouldn’t look at Newt, standing just to the side, smiling mischievously, waiting for him. Happy, healthy, without all that fear and anger that had run through him the last time Thomas had seen him.
He would never see Newt again, he knew that.
So now, sitting at the beach, he thought about Gally’s words. Because he’d been right. Well, Gally had always been right. God, how he missed him.
But he’d been right. He’d go crazy if he focused on the bad things. On the sad memories and broken promises. On the would-haves and could-have-been’s.
This was his favorite place on earth. It was where he first had felt completely safe.
Thomas would enjoy this life, this place, for as long as he could. He would live on for all those who couldn’t. Because even though Thomas didn’t have anything to live for anymore, he could live for himself for a while. Realistically it probably wasn’t all that healthy to center your whole life around other people. But after what he’d been through, who could blame him? At least he tried.
So he would live for himself. For the first time in probably ever.
He’d try to enjoy life for what it was, for all the bad and all the good things it brought. To help others for a little while longer. Maybe wait for his kid to come back and see her one more time. To see the sunrise a few more times. To take never ending walks even without Minho by his side. To cook, laugh, be quiet even without Gally right next to him.
He could do that.
For a while at least.
*
For the first time in his whole life, Thomas lived for himself.
It was only a matter of time till he died, one way or another. But for now, he was content.
The decision to keep living had been calming. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Because nothing could happen to break him any more than he’d been broken before. He’d lost almost everything and for the first time he could live without expectations, without pressure or fear.
He bathed in the ocean at night, ate wild berries he found in the forest. He sunbathed for too long, drank too much and picked fights with the wrong people. He half hoped that death would take him, but it didn’t. He lived on and the other people in their community took turns being worried for him and annoyed by his reckless actions. But their looks were fond, and he knew what he meant to most of them.
Time went on and Thomas knew that the others were proud of him. They wanted him to live. He’d promised them.
When Kira came back it had been two years since Gally’s passing. She was devastated, but she also brought new people with her. New stories of hope and change and wonder.
There was so much more for her to see.
But Kira stayed with Thomas, for a while. It was almost as if no time had passed. They worked together in the fields, cooked and told stories and laughed together. They’d sit in front of their hut and Thomas told her about the night Gally had kissed him for the first time right in that spot, so many years ago (it was practically a completely different house now because they had had to replace every piece of wood or stone at least twice, but oh well). They walked around the woods and the town (as they called it) and they talked. And Thomas told her about the maze and his part in creating it. He told her about his first days there, about sweet Chuck and his excitement about being a runner. He told her about Alby and Ben. And all the other names he could remember. He told her about the Grievers and their escape. About the beauty of the glade, their community and relative safety. He told her about all the slang words that he could remember, which made her first laugh out loud, because he and Minho and Gally had still used those words from time to time, and then it made her cry because she would never hear them swear like that again. He told her about the scorch and the last city and the red arm. About WCKD and Teresa. He told Kira all he could remember about all those Gladers and rebels that had lost their lives.
And finally, he told her about Newt. About beautiful, wonderful, kind, determined Newt. Who had not been immune. Who could have been saved if they’d known how to earlier.
Who would have loved it here, who would have loved Kira. His one big what-if. Thomas told her all about him that he could remember, and when he was done he started all over again, because it was so important that she understood. That she understood what Newt had meant to him. Because other than him, and Frypan and Aris and Brenda, no one remembered Newt. And they had to. Because Newt had been too important to their cause to forget him.
And Thomas couldn’t bear to think that Newt would be forgotten.
*
After that, Thomas told her about coming here and living their lives and finding her and deciding to raise and love her. He told her that she’d saved him, back then. And he told her about their life, all the parts that she’d seen, but also those she had been too small to remember. He told her about the fights and the anger and the desperation and about all the bad stuff his and Gally’s and Minho’s trauma had done to them. How all that pain and those memories had hurt them.
He told her everything, the good and the bad. Because he had wanted her to know. But in the end, he told her the same thing Gally had told her. To only remember the good stuff, because it was the only thing worth remembering anyway. She had smiled at that, secretly and softly, almost as if Gally had once told her the same thing.
“Dad, when I come back, you won’t be here anymore, will you?”, she asked one day, when they were sitting at the beach in the moon light, a sad little smile curling her lips.
“No kiddo, I don’t think so.” Thomas looked into the sky and remembered his first night in the Glade. The stars had been fake, but it had felt so real.
He felt Kira turn to him so he looked at her. She wasn’t crying. He had known that she wouldn’t. She swallowed hard though, taking his calloused hand in hers.
“I’ll miss you. But it’s been good, hasn’t it?” The corner of her mouth lifted like she wanted to grin but couldn’t bring herself to do it right. Gally had always said that. After storms and famine and civil wars between immunes. After all they had lived through, they had always had each other. The four of them against the rest of the world.
“It has, hasn’t it?” Thomas smiled and folded his arm around her, pulling her in. After all those years she still fit comfortably inside his arms. Or maybe that was just what parents felt when they held their children, no matter what age.
“I’ll stay here if you want me too. I will.” She looked determined, but Thomas shook his head. “This is your life now, and now it’s your turn to make it count.”
For a second she looked like she wanted to argue. To fight him on this. They could still have some more years together. But Kira knew her dad. She’d seen him sad and desperate and afraid. But this, this was different. This time, he was empty. There wasn’t that much left of him.
And in a way, that was okay. Because it had been good. This life of hers. It hadn’t been easy be far, but she had always felt loved and cherished. She’d felt wanted and she’d had a home and wonderful people who cared for her. She knew Thomas would have burned down the world to make her happy and keep her safe. And in more ways than one, he had.
He had changed so much and saved them all. And now he deserved some rest and peace.
Kira looked at him, memorizing him. Saw his grew hair, the wrinkles and scars on his body. The way his back was bent just slightly wrong and the way his fingers shook slightly whenever he didn’t move them. She looked into his eyes. He’d seen so much and done even more. And he was still here, after all of that. Kira hugged him as hard as she could.
She knew that it would be the last time. But she’d end it on a happy note, because that’s the only way to survive this life. To focus on the good.
“Alright, dad, no it’s my turn. Let me tell you a story….”
And she did. Kira told him about the adventures she’d been on the last few years. The places she’d seen, the people she’s met. And the people she’d loved.
It hadn’t always been easy. She had her fair share of trauma and hurt, no matter how hard her dads had tried to avoid it. But she was so happy and bright. So hopeful for a future.
Thomas knew that it had been worth it. All of it. The pain and heartache and loss. It had been worth it for people like Kira to keep on living, keep on loving and hoping. Because with people like her, maybe the world did have a future that was worth more than just survival. Maybe one day, people could live happily again, without fear.
Thomas smiled and closed his eyes as he listened to her tales.
And finally, after so many years of hardship, he felt at peace.