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"I need you to open your mind. Be honest if anything - anything at all - seems familiar."
"Nothing-" Thomas started, but stopped.
So much hard happened since arriving, he'd almost forgotten how familiar the Glade had felt to him that first night, sleeping next to Chuck. How comfortable and at home he'd felt. A far cry from the terror he should've experienced.
"I can see your wheels spinnin'," Newt said, quietly. "Talk."
Thomas hesitated, scared of the consequences of what he was about to say. But he was tired of keeping secrets.
"Well… I can't put my finger on anything specific." He glanced sideways at Newt. "Besides you."
Newt looked surprised, his brown eyes wide when he blinked at Thomas.
"Me?" He frowned at his feet, his brows settling into an expression that felt more familiar to Thomas than anything else he could name. He brought one hand absently to his mouth, thumb and forefinger on either side.
Thomas swallowed, worried he shouldn't have said anything. The last thing he needed was for Newt to be suspicious of him.
"I- I don't know why, exactly. I mean it's like i remember you but i don't know how, like i forget in what context, you know?"
Thomas glanced back at the boy beside him. Newt was very quiet, and although it wasn't out of the ordinary for the older boy it set Thomas a little more on edge. Just when he was starting to panic, Newt looked up at him again.
"I reckon i know, yeah."
Thomas stared at him, he had not expected that. Newt let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as though he didn't quiet believe himself. He leaned back against the ivy on the wall.
"When we pulled you outta the Box, i coulda sworn i'd seen you before. In some vague, blurry way i felt like i really knew you. Just for a minute. Then it was away again, like a weird feeling."
He looked back at Thomas, his lips quirking in an almost amused smile.
"And ever since…" he looked away with a soft shrug, just a slight roll of his shoulders. "Well, i been tryin' to pin it down, but no luck."
Thomas watched him as Newt looked across the Glade at the activity and bustle of the other Gladers. The blonde boy wasn't all that much older than Thomas, he guessed, and yet he had an air about him that made him seem ancient. Thomas's last few days had been a jarring whirlwind of emotion and fear, and he was feeling more than a little wrung out by it.
And that was just a few days. Newt had been here so much longer. Thomas couldn't imagine the things that Newt had been through, and the idea made him feel sick. He felt a sudden and surprising urge to reach out for the other boy, and felt his face burn a little at the sensation as it grew in his chest.
"I wonder-" he was suddenly afraid to go on, but Newt looked at him again, cocking his head a little. "If we were friends. You know, before."
He felt stupid the instant he said it, hearing his own words out loud. To his surprise Newt grinned, and the expression sent a wave of something warm through his system.
"For once, Tommy, i'm almost certain you're right."
Thomas grinned too, feeling pleased and even a little happy, the best he'd felt since arriving from the Box. Newt reached out and squeezed his shoulder. They settled in to finish their lunches, a few moments of companionable silence making Thomas feel almost content. It was a welcome break from the fearful, confusing ways of the Maze.
"Anything else about the Glade strike ya as familiar?"
Thomas swallowed the last of his sandwich, looking across to the Gardens where the usual team were working. He could pick Zart out easily, his larger form looking out of place in a way that was almost comical.
He spoke slowly, carefully.
"I did feel almost like i'd been here before when i first got here."
He looked at Newt, hoping to see some sort of recognition in his eyes.
"Anyone else go through that?"
But Newt's face was blank. He simply rolled his eyes.
"Uh, no Tommy. Most of us spent a week klunkin' our pants and bawlin' our eyes out."