Actions

Work Header

he held him like a seashell and listened to his heart

Summary:

Safe Haven, several weeks after escaping the Last City: The Gladers learn how to swim. Amidst floating in the waves with his friends and watching sunsets with a recovering Newt, Thomas begins to realize that he might actually have a real shot at a happy life.

Notes:

I thought I'd use the heatwave to finish my summer vibes fic of the gladers learning to swim! i started it on my christmas vacations in the mountains before deciding the snow outside and the summer heat in this fic don't go along and i kinda forgot about this fic lol

but here it is! enjoy 💕

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Thomas yawns over his mug of coffee. It’s way too early for a leadership meeting in the map room. Longingly he thinks about his warm spot next to Newt under the blanket they shared last night. It had been another nightmare that made Thomas crawl into Newt’s cot for comfort. It’s what they’ve always done when one of them has nightmares. That had started right after escaping the Maze. Most nights in Janson’s facility they had spent in each other’s arms, the tossing and turning keeping the other one awake as the bunk bed shook. They never stopped and neither did the nightmares. But it definitely helps having each other close, when waking up with a start from a nightmare.

 

“Don’t go,” Newt had murmured, stretching his fingers after Thomas sat up, ready to leave their cocoon of warmth and Thomas had wanted nothing more than to climb back under the covers, snuggling up to Newt’s sleepy warm body and inhaling the familiar smell of Newt’s hair. 

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be back later.” Thomas had whispered, tugging the blanket up to cover Newt’s lithe body. Newt is always cold. And ever since getting infected it has only gotten worse. Thomas’ fingers had brushed over the curly hair at Newt’s nape before slipping out the dorm and tugging on his sweater as he stepped into the crisp morning air.



Thomas has no idea what this meeting is about. Just that it’s urgent. 

Jorge held him back the night before on the way to the dorms. “Be ready right after sunset, hermano. “We need you with a clear mind tomorrow morning, it’s important. We have some stuff to plan, safety measures we totally forgot about. Don’t stay up too late tonight, hm?” Jorge’s eyes trailed to Newt waiting for Thomas at the door, smiling softly at him. Newt’s sleepy evening smiles always make him go soft in the knees. “Goodnight you two,” the older man winked. 

 

What safety measure did they overlook? Are they in danger? Thomas’ skin feels clammy. The mug warms his hands but cold dread sinks into his bones. He can’t do this again. WICKED hunting them down. Not after everything that happened in the Last City. Not after risking everything to save Minho and then almost losing him nonetheless. Not after carrying Newt’s lifeless body through the destroyed streets of the burning city, desperate for someone, something to help him keep the boy in his life. 

No he can’t let anything happen to his friends again. This is not an option. 

 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Jorge and Vince push through the map room’s door. 

“Morning,” he greets the other two leaders, taking them in. Jorge’s usual cheery expression is shadowed by the early morning hour. Vince looks like he barely slept at all but Thomas is used to this by now. Ever since WICKED’s attack in the mountains, a brooding stare has replaced the grayish storm in his eyes when there was nothing to do, nothing to carry, build, drive, shoot. 

They sit down opposite of Thomas. He pours both of them some fresh coffee, sliding the mugs with steaming dark liquid over the table. 

“Good lad,” Vince smiles at him gratefully, “Very needed. Took me forever to fall asleep.”

“You need to tell your brain to stop worrying for a few hours,” Jorge sighs. “You need your energy.”

“There’s always coffee. And until we’re completely safe here, I can’t stop worrying. You should know that better than anyone,” Vince shoots him a look. Jorge sighs again, nods but says nothing. 

It’s obvious they’re talking about Brenda, the closest Jorge has to a daughter of his own. Vince is worrying about everyone of the survivors as if they are his own blood. They are both parents in a way, both fiercely protective over their protégés.

 

Thomas can relate. The loss of Chuck who was a little brother to him still hurts so much. If the young boy was still with them he’d do anything to protect him from the cruelty of the world raging around them.

 

He feels protective of his friends as well. Thomas loves his friends and he doesn’t want to imagine living in a world without Minho, Aris, Brenda or Frypan in it. He would probably bear it, somehow. Keep going for the sake of the other survivors, making all the blood and loss they put in fighting for their freedom count. His closest friends’ presence in his life is like the warm glow of a candle Thomas holds against the night. Comfort, safety, family. 

He’ll protect them no matter what. Especially Newt. It’s different though, different from the urge to protect your friend, child or sibling. He’d do anything to shield Newt from danger because the boy means more to him than anyone else ever had. The love he feels for Newt is one of a kind. Just thinking about the sleeping boy in his bed makes the coldness slip from his body, making space for a comforting warmth bubbling in his belly. To him, Newt is a lighthouse, guiding him when he’s lost, making him long for the certainty and happiness of coming home. He can’t lose Newt.

 

“What is this meeting about,” Thomas asks, cutting straight to the reason they’re gathered here at this ungodly hour. “Jorge said it’s urgent.”

“Right,” Vince sits up straighter, matching his energy and hands Thomas a few sheets of paper. A quick look over them shows him it’s a several pages long list containing all of the survivor’s names. 

 

“We came to the observation that us living on an actual island makes it necessary that everyone knows how to swim. Better yesterday than today. We need to start fishing more and we can’t send anyone out on the boats who doesn’t know how to swim. And what if there is a storm or flooding and we have to retrieve our stuff from the water? We can’t keep living surrounded by water without people knowing how not to fucking drown.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t thought of the importance of checking that everyone can swim,” Jorge shakes his head in disbelief over their own ignorance. 

 

Right. Knowing how to swim sounds seems like a basic skill when living on an island in the middle of the ocean. And they overlooked it. But in the older men’s defense it hadn’t crossed Thomas’ mind either.

They had gotten incredibly lucky that nothing had happened yet, that no one had drowned in the stormy waves surrounding their new home.  

 

“Shit,” he mumbles. 

“You’ve got it, hermano. Unacceptable, this slipped all of our minds, putting people in danger.”

“Yeah...me sailing all those kids over the ocean without checking was stupid. Fucking reckless and stupid,” Vince grumbles and hides his face with his hands, “Sometimes I really suck at this leadership thing.”

“What is done, is done. There is no use beating yourself up over it now.” Jorge places his hand on Vince’s back, rubbing it for comfort. “And for the record, you’re a great leader.”

Thomas nods in agreement. He’s in awe for all the responsibility Vince takes on daily.

“You basically led all those kids and remaining Right Arm survivors single handedly over the sea,” he chimes in.  

“Exactly. Mistakes happen. And you always take up too much on your plate, amigo. Nobody can blame you for forgetting something. It’s all good now, nobody got hurt.” 

“But anything could have happened!” Vince groans from between his fingers. 

“But it didn’t!” Jorge says decidedly, “And we can make it up to everyone by tackling this issue today, right now.”

 

Thomas feels the same. Vince beating himself up over what could have happened is understandable but it doesn’t help them now.

“Can anyone here swim?” Thomas asks, eager to find something else for them to focus on instead. 

“Can you?” Vince asks him. Thomas can only remember fragments from his past before waking up in that elevator transporting him up to the Glade. Memories of going swimming are not one of them.

“I don’t know actually,” Thomas admits. “Didn’t drown the last time I fell into a big body of water?” He shoots them a lopsided grin.

Vince and Jorge chuckle, exchanging a quick look. Then Jorge points at the list of names.

“That’s what the list here is for,” Jorge explains. “We’ll gather everyone after breakfast, noting down who can swim and if we have luck there might even be people feeling qualified enough to teach others.”

“What if nobody can swim?” Thomas asks, suddenly realizing this could be the case as well. 

“If this is the case, hermano,” Jorge spreads his arms with a wide toothy grin,”It’s my pleasure to introduce you to your new swimming instructors.”

At his words Vince perks up and he’s smiling too, saluting Thomas.  

“You two?“

“Aye! We’re like fish! Jorge and I took a midnight swim last night to test the waters. Turns out you cannot unlearn certain skills.” His newfound enthusiasm contrasts interestingly with the sheepish expression on Jorge’s face. He hides behind his coffee mug, humming.

“We still got it, huh, amigo ?” Vince nudges Jorge with a big grin, seemingly oblivious to the flustered look in Jorge’s eyes making his face glow. “Slick like an eel this one,” he continues with a wink to Thomas and Jorge chokes on his coffee.

 “That’s settled then. Good job you two,” Thomas grins and Vince, finally catching on, sighs and is suddenly very interested in his own coffee, taking a big gulp and looking everywhere but at Thomas or Jorge. 




"Listen up, everyone!" Vince's loud voice booms over everyone finishing their breakfast in front of the homestead. The conversations quickly die down. Thomas and Vince get up as well and soon all eyes are on them.

"Thank you for your attention. We've been here some time and our basic needs, like food, medical assistance and shelter are sorted by now.  Next step of settlement is exploring our island, seeing about further settlement spots, agricultural possibilities, fauna and flora etc. This includes the backlands of the countryside and also the sea, of course. See if we can make fish part of our meal plan.”

"Aye!" Frypan shouts enthusiastically and a few others chime in, hooting and clapping.

“For that I need people willing to go out with the fishing boats that Gally and the builders are currently constructing. But that made us think about a very important fact: Does anyone here even know how to swim? We have no idea how many of you can and before any activities even near the water start, we want to make sure that all of you know how not to drown."

 

Surprised murmuring swaps over the gathered breakfast crowd like a wave. 

 

Jorge speaks up, his voice carrying over the hushed conversations."Hermanos, we are sorry for not checking about that first thing. We should have discussed this way earlier. We’ve put you in danger and for that we want to apologize," Jorge continues, his voice serious. "We can't have anyone die because of not knowing how to swim, after all the trouble and loss we went through to get here in the first place. This was irresponsible of us and we hope you all can forgive us for the danger we put you in.” He gives the crows a bit of time and for the whispering to calm down again.

“ Yeah, that was shit, sorry,” Vince speaks up now, clapping Jorge on the back. “But we made a plan. To make sure everyone knows how to keep their head overwater, asap."

Vince raises his arm, showing them his clipboard with the list. "We made a list of everyone and will take note of who can actually swim. We'll call out everyone's name now, if you can't swim please answer that truthfully. It's no shame. No false bravery, understood? This is about your own safety."

 

It turns out, except for Jorge and Vince there is a huge need for swimming lessons among the survivors.

Barely anyone knows how to swim. Which is not surprising. Most of them got abducted by WICKED at a very young age. Naturally they did not learn to swim when locked up in a high security prison for science. WICKED did not care about that. Most of their childhood had been spent in sterile rooms, hospital rooms, training facilities, interrogation rooms, classrooms. No nature, no outdoors. Until the Maze and the Glade. Without any large bodies of water in their early lives there had never been a reason for the Gladers to get skilled in swimming. 

 

Jorge had taught Brenda. Some other Right Arm fighters can swim. Also Aris knows how to. But that’s the gist of it. 

Thomas, Jorge and Vince spend most of the morning reviewing the list, creating a schedule to make everyone competent in the water as quickly as possible. At noon they have a plan and a new list and introduce the swimming lessons schedule to the crowd, dividing them into groups of six people. 

 

Thomas made sure he got himself assigned in a group with Minho, Aris, Sonya, Harriet and Newt. His heart beats faster when he thinks about spending time with the people closest to him. After days in the medical tent and then weeks holed up in the map room with Jorge and Vince spending all his waking hours planning, organizing and calculating, mostly absorbed from the rest of the survivors who were busy building their new home, he is more than ready to be around his friends again for more than just a quick catch up at meal times. 



*****

Swimming lessons happen every other day. There are so many groups with survivors needing to learn how to swim that it takes up most of everyone’s time. Frypan and the kitchen staff get the oddest hours, so it doesn’t collide with their hours needed in the kitchen. 

 

Thomas’ group either gets the later afternoon hours or right after sunrise. Thomas loves the lessons right before the sun sets. 

 

It’s way warmer than in the morning. The sun heats up his skin nicely in contrast to the cool sea waves and the sand where they lay afterwards to dry off is still warmly baked from the day. 

But what he loves most about that time of the day is how the orange-gold sun rays touch the tips of Newt’s hair, giving them a soft reddish shine. And the light paints spectacular effects on Newt’s freckled skin. 

 

Those late hours in the day, right after lessons end give the two of them plenty of opportunity to enjoy each other’s company. Privacy is rare in Safe Haven. Everyone else takes off as soon as Vince and Jorge let them go, back to the Homestead for kitchen duty, to change or just to catch up with some rest after all the exertion in the water. At least that’s what the others tell them when they wave to Newt and Thomas and leave them on the beach.

 

“Alone at last,” Newt smiles. He looks so much healthier now and Thomas feels the relief sip through him when he takes in the golden glow of Newt’s skin, so different from his pale skin and the thick dark veins pushing the poisonous Flare through his body in the Last City. 

Thomas can’t remember a time when Newt smiled that much like he does now. 



*****

Thomas and Harriet float in the early morning waves, training their back strokes. They watch Newt and Sonya at the shore, talking animatedly, eyes bright.

Out in the bright sunlight, glad only in tops and underwear, their hair braided out of their faces. It's next to impossible not noticing the similarities in their features. 

 

Soon after Newt woke up in the medical hut, recovering from the tolls of the Flare, Sonya had visited him. 

Thomas can still remember the afternoon of visiting the boy at his hospital bed and hearing the wonderful news of Sonya having regained some of her memories from before the Maze Trials. Newt has a sister, family by blood and they both survived and made it to the Safe Haven. The fact that Newt and Sonya have that in each other, that they have found each other again, fills Thomas with optimism and joy.

 

They have the same color skin, the same patterns of freckles. Their hands underlining their words move in a similar way. Even their laughter is alike, both of them throwing their heads back in delight, exposing long necks and dimples popping up on their cheeks. 

 

Thomas loves that the sun drops all those freckles on Newt’s skin like golden confetti. They are all over his face and upper body. Thomas wants to count them. Every and each of them.



*****

Helping each other float is the first thing they learn during swimming lessons. Thomas and Newt get paired together. 

 

When Newt helps Thomas float it goes terribly at first. The feel of Newt’s fingers on his skin, gripping him with confident pressure, steading him, guiding him,...Thomas knew he liked Newt a lot, but trying to hide what his touch does to Thomas’ body? He can’t let himself sink into the water quick enough, praying nobody saw. 

 

“I trust you,” Newt chuckles nervously and lays all of it into Thomas’ hands immediately when he stretches out on his back on the water. Thomas is fascinated how Newt’s skin feels under his fingertips under water. His fingertips move along Newt’s spine. Will he ever find out if the water was too cold for Newt that day or if the barely audible sigh and Newt’s trembling body was a reaction to Thomas, guiding Newt through the water with care, keeping him afloat on his loving hands?

At first, Newt is very afraid of letting go in the water and to trust his body to float. In the shallow water, Thomas supports the boy’s body, gives him the safety of knowing he’s there to catch him from sinking and that he can just…let go. Newt’s initial reluctance changes into sheer joy when he experiences how the water makes him weightless and much easier for his sore leg to move through the water than when he’s walking on the beach. 

On some days Newt gets so lost in the sensation of floating that it’s quite challenging to get him out of the water.

 

“I swear to god, you’re more fish than boy,” Thomas says one day, when he leads Newt out of the water, their fingers intertwined. 

“Good that, you’ll need to catch me then,” Newt pokes his tongue out at him, tugs loose from him and races off to the beach, a laughing Thomas chasing after him. They collapse by their towels, laying down and catching their breaths. 

 

Newt smiles at him but Thomas sees the flash of pain in Newt’s eyes when he stretches his leg out and instinctively, he presses his leg against Newt’s, nudging Newt to prop the leg up on his own. 

“Thanks Tommy,” Newt says. He reaches out and runs his fingers through the wet strands sticking to Thomas’ forehead, before he leans forward and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. 

 

There’s a whole shoal of fish dancing in Thomas’ belly when Newt pulls back again and looks at him in adoration. 



*****

Learning how to swim comes easy to Thomas, like physical stuff always does. After he made it through his initial fear of leaving the shallows and testing the deeper waters he got quite fond of diving. And as soon as diving worked out and his body trusted Thomas that he’d come up for air as soon as needed, swimming followed quickly after. 

For Minho, it’s similar, he learned it the fastest in their little swimming class - to the surprise of no one. Not much different than Minho running like lightning speed on solid ground, the water and him become familiar fast and it doesn’t take long for Minho to join the team of swim teachers. 

As soon as they are both confident swimmers, Thomas and Minho love to race each other into the water after their runs, shrugging their sweaty running gear off halfway and diving into the cool waves. 

It’s just like a natural progression from them moving side by side on land and usually it doesn’t put much stop to whatever conversation they were having before on land. 

 

The water makes it easier for them to talk about heavier topics though. Being weightless, carried, helps with opening up about what they went through. 

 

One early morning, they’re making their way to the buoy in slow, lazy strokes, when Minho brings up the moment Thomas hated the most about that entire horrible time they had to spend in the Last City. The moment that Thomas doesn’t allow himself to think about too much.

“So,” Minho starts, eyes turned east where the sun paints the sky orange, “What exactly happened after Gally and I left to get the serum for Newt?”

“I told you,” Thomas replies, eyes equally turned to the sunrise, willing his heart to calm down. “He cranked out, we started to fight and I managed to land a hit that knocked him out long enough for you guys to come back and inject the serum.”

“Thomas. We both know that’s not the whole story.”

Thomas doesn’t reply, only shakes his head.. It’s true. That’s not everything that happened. 

“Why don’t you ever talk about this?” Minho asks. His voice is careful.

A part of him wants to tell Minho everything, start from the beginning, way before that horrible night. But he can’t. It’s not his story to tell.

“Can’t, it’s Newt, he - when he’s ready maybe,” is what Thomas ends up saying. 

 

They swim in silence, rounding the buoy and making their way back to the beach, Minho a few paces before him, just like when they’re running. 

“Will you take care of him?” Minho asks after a while. He looks back at him and they finally lock eyes. Minho’s dark eyes are a mirror to the sunrise on their backs and an understanding passes between them. 

“Yes, I will.” An easy answer to give. 



*****

Jorge, Vince and Thomas set up a meeting over the topic of swimming two weeks later. Most of them can hold themselves over water now, at least and all three of them agree that they made great progress.

 

Swimming lessons won’t be their main focus anymore but for those in need, they will still happen. It turned out that Aris is such a skilled swimmer that he becomes appointed the Safe Haven’s lifeguard. 

 

Many of the swimming beginners have trouble with their feet cramping in the water. The leaders consult with Teresa and everyone else working in the medical hut and they learn about magnesium deficiency and how to help with supplying more of it into their diet. 

 

Now, everyday at breakfast, Frypan hands out extra bananas for those taking swimming lessons that day. 



*****

Gally finds a way to make diving more enjoyable, when he designs some sort of glasses that sit tightly on the face. He calls them goggles. 

 

One late afternoon, Gally and Thomas sit on the pier, close to his workshop and Gally shows him how to put them on. 

The glasses go on your face first, you gently press them against your skin, so that they lie against it flatly. Then you bring the elastic strap attached to the glasses around your head. The tighter it all sits, the more likely it is that you won’t get salty sea water into your eyes. 

Thomas dips his head underwater and opens his eyes - the ocean is beautiful . He can see little fish and the sunlight that breaks through the surface. It’s dancing on the seafloor, amongst colorful shells, seaweed and stones. 

“Amazing!! Thomas cries out excitedly, when he resurfaces, then remembers who is sitting next to him and he tones it down. “Not bad, Gally. Kinda cool you thought of that.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can stop now,” Gally groans, as if it physically pains him to have Thomas complimenting him. “Was thinking about pushing you in, when you just tried them,” he smirks. 

“Why didn’t you?” Thomas asks curiously, fully aware that he’s truly risking a bath fully clothed now. But it is interesting, Gally letting an opportunity like this one pass.

“Gets boring to bully you all the time, Greenie.” 

“Yeah right.” Thomas looks at him skeptically, “As if you’d change your attitude towards me all of a sudden."

“No, I still can’t stand you, don’t be mistaken,” Gally shoots him an annoyed look, but then his features relax a bit. 

“Wanted to speak to you about Newt, actually,” Gally says.

“Newt? What about him?” Thomas asks warily. He knows Gally and Newt are slowly starting to become friends again but the quick-tempered, irascible boy wanting to talk about him to Thomas, number one person on his shit list forever? Has he does something to Newt that upset Gally? Whatever it is, it can't be good, not at all. Well, the water under the pier looks quite inviting now. Maybe Thomas should make a run for it and just dive in before Gally can fully dunk him in and drown him.

“Dont get your panties in a twist, Greenie,” Gally interrupts his escape plans. He looks at him with a sentiment that Thomas wouldn’t dare to describe as warm but he couldn’t find a better word for it either. But it can't be. Maybe Thomas has heatstroke? It has been quite warm today. 

“You’re good for him. Never saw that boy so happy. You better keep it that way.”

“Are you giving me the talk right now? It’s not like Newt and I are dating or something.” Yet, he adds in his head. Unfortunately they aren’t.

“That’s exactly why I’m bringing this up. I don’t know what you guys are waiting for, but it’s dumb. You clearly like him and Newt? He worships the ground you’re walking on, don’t ask me why, but you’d better get your shit together.”

“What?” Thomas is openly gaping at Gally now.

“Don’t waste any more time, okay? Life is too short and precious. As you should know.” They look at each other and Thomas nods. “Good, so you understand. He won’t do the first step, so that’s on you,” Gally snarls, then gets up and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t break his heart, Greenie. I know some good places to drown a body discreetly.”

 

Thomas watches the sunset alone, sitting on the pier until it’s dark, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. 

 

*****

In the end, all it takes is a storm that forces everyone to sleep in the few solid huts they’ve built so far, closely huddled together. That’s how Newt and Thomas find themselves sharing a hammock in the very back of the map room. 

Their softly whispered goodnights turn into their foreheads pressed together and breathing nervously against each other’s mouths before Thomas, because he knows Gally’s right, it’s on him to make the first step, closes the distance between them.

It’s not a big kiss, but it’s sweet and warm and so much better than the flared-up frenzy of tongues and teeth clashing amidst a burning city. 

Newt's lips are soft under his own and when they open against each other, Thomas licks into his mouth. Newt’s tongue meets him there and he makes these wonderful happy noises while  running his fingers through Thomas’ hair, pulling him closer.

“Tommy,” he sighs and then they don’t talk for a long time, too busy making up for lost time.  Kissing Newt is equally new and familiar. It's deeply intimate and feels more right than anything else he ever did in his life. 

He can’t get enough of Newt and soon after this first soft kiss, many more of those follow and Thomas could swear they've been doing it forever.

 

Damn, he wishes they had been doing this way earlier. But maybe..maybe this is the start of their own little forever? With Newt in his arms his chances at happiness have never been better.

Notes:

it would cool my body and also melt my heart if you gave this fic some love and share your thoughts with me?