Archive of Our Own

Thomas Stephenson wasn't your average every day mental hospital employee. In fact, he wasn't even sure how he'd ended up here, really. He was working as a pharmacist. When the Glade Psychiatric Facility had hired him, he assumed it was as a resident pharmacist. 

It was not. 

"You'll only have a couple patients for the first little bit," Keisha says. She's the head nurse here. Thomas liked her right away. "Minho Park, Teresa Agnes, Albert Greene, and Newton Isaacs."

Thomas frowns pointedly, a little worried. She didn't seem very happy to be relinquishing control of the patients over to him, and that led him to believe that they were a little trickier to maintain. 

"Great kids, all of them," Keisha continues. "Went through the same shit. Messed up, too. Kidnapping survivors. There's a bunch of 'em here, actually. You just only have those four to take care of."

Thomas grimaces. Kidnapping survivors. Sure, lots of people who had been abducted developed PTSD and other anxieties, but whatever they'd all gone through had to have been extraordinarily terrible to contract mental illnesses bad enough to be kept here.

"Kidnapping?" Thomas prompts, hoping to get a little more information on the subject. 

He wasn't even super qualified to do this. But now this situation had piqued his interest. What had they gone through? At whose hand?

Keisha nods solemnly. "By a whole organization, too. WICKED, they called themselves. Lunatics of their own kind, really. Convinced the entire world had been destroyed by sun flares. That this was their only shot at saving humanity."

Keisha looks like she wants to continue, but she looks like she's getting upset just talking about it. She must be really close to these kids. Instead of telling him the story, she hands him the file, and tells him to get back to her when he's ready to meet his patients.

Thomas sits down in the waiting area and opens the file, horribly eager to figure out what had ruined these kids.

Patients update: A1578

Patient A1, Teresa Agnes, has spared no detail in explaining the situation. The once aggressive cult, WICKED, who had been speculated to have dispersed, was actually working more underground. The cult members, lead by one Ava Paige, appear to have been brainwashed, their chancellor diagnosed with delirium. They believe that the world has been scorched by sun flares and ruined by something called the "Flare Virus". 

They believed trapping and torturing patients 1-10 was the only way to save the world, or to keep humanity alive. Former cult member and current on-hand orderly, Randall Smith, says that their organization had inadvertently created the virus, and was now working tirelessly to find a cure through the blood of the "Immune". 

Patients were supposedly locked inside of an underground Maze, left to their own devices to escape. According to Patient B1, Aris Jones, there were two Mazes. One with fifty boys and one girl, the other with the exact opposite. 

Patient A7, Minho Park, has gone into excruciating detail explaining mechanical mutated creatures they call "Grievers." We were not able to get a coherent description, as it seems to change daily. We currently are unsure if the Grievers truly existed or not. 

According to all of the patients, there were at least one hundred "subjects" trapped in those Mazes. By the time the FBI had the compound surrounded and got them out, there were ten left alive. 

All patients seem to be amnesic, or perhaps brainwashed. None of them can remember their lives before WICKED. Whether or not this amnesia is self-induced, a way to handle the severe traumas they've endured, we are unsure. 

According to Patients A7 and A5, they were forced into a deadly hot desert after the Mazes. All living subjects confirmed this, going so far as to call it "the Scorch". They said they fought bulb-like monsters out there, as well as "Cranks," which we have deduced to being WICKED's variation of living zombies; the people infected with the supposed Flare Virus. 

We are unsure as to how much of this is truth, and how much is deliria, as we have currently one patient diagnosed with delirium, and they are all in various states of hysteria that seem to be permanent. 

Thomas shuts the file with a snap that was much louder than it needed to be. His eyes were wide, his hands shaking. Keisha makes her way over, judging that he'd finished reading by his reaction. She takes the file from him, putting it back in its place.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "Heavy."

Thomas can barely find it in himself to nod. Keisha asks if he's alright, if he needs to take the day off. He can't very well be spooking the patients, and that's all he'll be doing if he can't keep himself together.

Thomas shakes his head and follows Keisha down the hall. She leads him to the first door. Patient A1. Teresa Agnes. She hands him the patient file, which includes a more in depth description of physical and mental maladies for this patient specifically.

He almost doesn't want to open it, knowing just the bare minimum of what she'd been through. But this is his job now. He's going to have to suck it up. He can't play the coward when these kids went through this first hand.

He opens the file.

Patient A1 - Teresa Agnes

Teresa seems to be better off than most. Apparently she had not been in the Maze as long as the others, and then had been kept out of the heat for the better part of their time in the Scorch. 

She has been diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, and bipolar disorder. She, from time to time, suffers with insomnia, but it seems to come and go in spurts. We have also deduced that she has a photographic memory, which may be part of the solution to her minimal memory loss. 

Teresa continually insists that she had helped WICKED build the Mazes, but we aren't certain. We have no idea how long these kids were in WICKED's hands, but we doubt it was long enough for her to be there at the commencement of this project. She tells us she has been there since she was a small child. We cannot confirm. 

She also has stated that she didn't lose her memory, but it seems memory of her life pre-WICKED is foggy. We cannot tie this to self-induced amnesia, but it leads us to believe that she has been held by WICKED for as long as she says she had been. 

Teresa is prone to emotional outbursts, but she is a smart-witted and intelligent patient. She is not violent, and has not once attacked staff and/or patients. She is calm and level headed, which leads us to believe that she is on the road to recovery, and may be able to be released as early as next spring. 

"She seems like she's doing a lot better than the rest of them have been made out to be," Thomas says, snapping the file shut and putting it back in the slot on Teresa's door.

Keisha nods pointedly. "She's doing well," she agrees. "Recovering a lot quicker than the others."

"That's good, though, isn't it?" Thomas prompts. "If she can recover this well, than surely the others can, too?"

Keisha just shrugs. Which is fair. Thomas hasn't met any of the other patients yet. They could be a lot worse off than Teresa, especially if they'd been in those Mazes longer than her. 

Keisha opens the door, announcing her presence, and then introducing Thomas. Teresa's sitting at her desk, Pride and Prejudice open in her hand. Her eyes are wide with curiosity rather than mania. She sits there, waiting for Thomas to say something.

"Hey," Thomas says awkwardly, not knowing what to say. "Teresa, right?" She nods, setting the book down on her desk without marking her page. Right, photographic memory. "I'm Thomas. I guess I'll be looking after you for a little while."

Teresa stands up, pushing her chair in before walking over. She sticks her hand out, gesturing for him to shake it. Thomas hesitates, but he obliges when Keisha nods her approval.

"Nice to meet you, Tom," she says gently. 

She doesn't seem sick. Not sick enough to be cooped up here, anyway. She was on the supposed road to recovery, though. Thomas was sure the rest of his patients would not be as chill and laid back as Teresa.

"Wow, nicknamed already," Thomas says, laughing kindly. "I feel special. Or do you have nicknames for everyone?"

Teresa shakes her head. "Thomas just... doesn't suit you. Forgive me if that offends you in any way."

"No, of course not," Thomas says. "Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Get to know you, since we'll be spending so much time together?"

Teresa shakes her head. "Sure," she says. "Just take your shoes off before you come in."

Thomas almost laughs, but one look at Keisha tells him that she's serious. So he does; he unties both his shoes, and then kicks them off.

Teresa's brow furrows instantly. She shakes her head adamantly, fingernails digging into her palms. "You did it wrong," she manages.

"What?" Thomas asks, confused. How can he possibly have taken off his shoes incorrectly? Was there even a wrong way to do it?

Teresa takes a step back, like she doesn't trust herself near him. "You did it wrong," she repeats. "You have to do it again."

Thomas remembers that she has OCD, and that's likely the cause of the small outburst, the slight change in mood. He puts his shoes back on, and then unties them and pulls them off, placing them neatly by the door.

Teresa shakes her head again, a little more aggressive this time. "No!" She exclaims. "You're still doing it wrong! You have to do it again! Do it right!"

BPD. Intense mood swings. Certainly not a great thing to be mixed with OCD. He puts his shoes back on, and reties them. This time, he unties his left, then takes it off, placing it cleanly by the door. He unties his right, gently pulling it off and dropping it neatly in line with the left.

"Is that better?" He asks calmly. Keisha nods her approval in the way he's taking the situation. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this.

Teresa just shakes her head again. She's not as angry this time, just sad. Stressed. Her nails have dug into her palms with so much pressure that they've started bleeding. Her eyes have filled with angry tears. 

"No," she says. "Right first."

Thomas tries again. He does the exact same process, just starting with the right foot, rather than the left. "Is that okay?" He asks, wanting to get this done sooner rather than later so they can get her hands patched up.

"No!" She cries. She's backed up even more, her back flat against the far wall now. Her body's trembling. "They have to go to the left of the door, not the right. You need to do it again. You need to get it right."

Thomas puts his shoes back on and tries again. This time, he puts his shoes to the left of the door, pushing them so they're spaced evenly. He knows that Teresa won't be able to calm down or focus on anything else until he gets this right.

"Is that right?" He asks calmly, trying to show that he's not frustrated by the ever long process of removing his shoes in a correct fashion. 

Teresa hesitates, and then she nods slowly. She calms down enough to sit on the edge of her bed, legs crossed. She looks at her lap and frowns. Then she gets up, sits back down, and crosses her legs the other way. Then she looks up at Thomas.

"Thank you," she says softly. 

Thomas nods. "Maybe we should wrap up your hands," he suggests kindly. "They're bleeding."

Teresa frowns pointedly, looking down at them, spreading her hands wide, palms facing the ceiling. "So they are," she says quietly. "I hadn't noticed."

She hadn't even noticed she'd cut into her palms that deeply? It had to have hurt. Bad, too. But she hadn't even paid it any mind. She'd been too hyper-focused on Thomas's shoes to notice anything else.

"Let's go get you patched up," Keisha says gently, offering a hand to help Teresa up. The younger girl risks a glance at Thomas, and then nods, taking Keisha's hand and following her out.

Thomas gets up too, not sure if he should follow. Maybe he should keep moving, introduce himself to the next patient? 

Keisha's nod tells him to move on. "Patient A7's your next on the schedule. Minho Park."

"He's got Min, too?" Teresa asks, curious. Her cheeks are tinted a little pink and Thomas thinks she might have crush on him, or something. Or maybe they're already dating. Horrible situations move relationships along rather quickly.

Thomas shuts and locks Teresa's door behind him, moving down the hall. He opens Minho's file, reading through it so he knows what to expect. Knowing about Teresa's OCD in advance had definitely helped back there.

Patient A7 - Minho Park

Minho states that he was one of the first to be put in the Maze. Patients A5 and A8 have confirmed this, though they're not exactly to be trusted, given their current diagnosis. He has also attested to having been struck by lightning during their time in the Scorch. This also has been confirmed by other patients, but we are unsure. 

He seems a little worse for wear, especially compared to Patient A1. He is currently diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative amnesia, and oppositional defiant disorder. 

Minho is prone to semi-violent outbursts, specifically against staff. Though he will get in small fights or arguments with patients, he has never drastically hurt any of them. We believe this is due to his role as a leader in their escape attempts against WICKED.

Minho also claims that WICKED "implanted things into their brains." He says these chips force them to do the cult's bidding and induced amnesia, among other things. While we sincerely doubt WICKED had the medical functionality to do something like that, we have not yet ruled out the possibility, as Patients A1 and B1 have also confirmed this. 

Minho cannot remember anything before WICKED. While he insists that this is because of the neurological chip, we believe it is due to his dissociative amnesia.

We do not expect for him to be released any time soon.

Thomas snaps the file shut, slipping it back into the slot. So he'd have to be a little bit more on edge in here than he was with Teresa. That's alright. 

It was fascinating in a grotesque way, really. How all these kids, whilst having gone through the same traumatic experiences, all developed disorders that were so different. Some, of course, were the same. Amnesia seemed to be a common theme. PTSD, obviously. Who wouldn't have developed that, if they'd gone through whatever they had at the hands of WICKED?

Thomas opens the door before he can dwell on it any more than he already has. He can't spook himself. This is his job, whether he likes it or not. 

"Hi," Thomas says carefully, shutting the door behind him. "I'm Thomas, your new orderly. I thought I'd come by and introduce myself."

Minho looks up at him. Had he been...exercising? 

He most certainly had been. There's sweat running down his neck, hair slicked back. He'd just been running laps in his room. Was that normal? Was this routine for him?

"Minho," he says eventually. "Welcome to the Glade, Greenie."

Thomas doesn't know what to make of that. How to respond. So he just smiles and nods.

"You big on exercise?" Thomas asks because he doesn't know what else to say. Maybe this will strike up a conversation. Or maybe it'll be an invitation to get attacked. Who knows?

Minho shrugs, sitting on his bed. "Just too used to it," he says, shrugging. "Did a lotta runnin'."

"Why?" Thomas asks, driven by curiosity. 

Minho just glares at him. Okay, maybe not a good conversation starter. He raises his hands in surrender, uttering a curt apology.

"I was a Runner," Minho says, exhaling a little too loudly. "But I wouldn't go 'round asking the others questions like that. Who else ya got?"

Thomas sighs, a little relieved that this hadn't turned violent. According to his file, it didn't take much. "Teresa," he says, "who I already met. Seemed like you two were friends, right?" Minho nods. "I've also got, uh... Albert Greene and Newton Isaacs. Haven't met 'em yet, though."

"Alby doesn't talk much," Minho says, shrugging. "Doesn't mean he’ll take your klunk, though." He pauses. "You'll like Newt. Just don't ask him about Sonya."

Thomas hesitates, not sure what to make of any of that. But then he thanks Minho for the advice and continues chatting with him. He's diagnosed with oppositional defiant disorder, but he seems relatively calm. 

He looks out the window while Thomas speaks with him. It looks out at the courtyard. His gaze seems focused on a few patients. Two big, buff guys. Thomas thinks at first they're WICKED kids, too, but they don't have the tattoos on their necks like at least Minho and Teresa do. 

They're practically cornering a little kid, though. A kid that does have the tattoo. Not one of Thomas's patients, he doesn't think, since he's in the teen-young adult ward, but definitely a WICKED kid.

Minho doesn't even say anything before running out of the room. Thomas chases after him, unsurprised when they end up in that corner of the courtyard. 

They make it just in time to see one of the guys punch that kid straight in the face. Thomas moves in to break it up, but Minho beats him to it, tackling both of the guys to the ground at the same time. 

Here come those violent outbursts. Keisha probably would have warned him. He wasn't exactly an outright violent patient, he was just fiercely protective over the other WICKED kids. 

Thomas wants to break up the fight, but he's not exactly sure if he's physically capable of it. So instead he checks on the kid, makes sure he's okay. His nose is bleeding, but he'll be fine. 

He introduces himself as Chuck. It broke Thomas's heart to see WICKED had experimented on a kid that young. 

A few other patients come running over. Thomas fears that this is going to end up as a huge team on team fight, but the two patients, a guy with dark hair and a brunette girl with fiercely blue eyes, are trying to break it up for him. Thomas notes the tattoos on their necks. He gets it immediately. 

Thomas steps in to pull Minho off of the other guys, handing him off to the girl while he helps the guy keep the other two detained. They seem to give in, but Minho states something about not seeing enough of their blood yet.

That's when Keisha comes running over to help, Teresa at her heels. Keisha takes the two guys that are bloodied and on the ground to the medical wing, instructing Chuck to follow along. She keeps him on her other side, an arm slung over his shoulders.

"Can you take care of the rest?" She asks Thomas. He nods pointedly, and turns to look at Minho, pretending like he's going to give a serious talking to. He's not, but he figures that's what Keisha is expecting him to do. 

Minho sighs, defeated. "Alright, how long am I in solitary for?" He asks, like this is a regular happening.

"I'm not writing you up," Thomas says honestly. "You were protecting a little kid. Sure, you took it a little far, but you're just loyal. You didn't kill 'em, so I don't see the point."

Minho hesitates, confused, and then he grins. "Yeah, I like you," he says. "Ya might be the only orderly in here that's halfway decent."

Thomas just laughs. At least he didn't hate him. This was a good start. 

Minho still seemed to be practically seething with anger, so Teresa took him back to his room to calm down. Though, Thomas figured her hand on his bicep was doing the trick just fine. 

When they leave, the other two, the ones that had stepped in to break up the fight, introduced themselves. Gally and Rachel. Neither were one of Thomas's patients. He thanked them for their help and promised to see them around. 

He ran into Keisha in the hallway, and she asks him how his meeting had gone, and how it had ended up like that. He tries his best to explain, trying to keep Minho in a good light so he doesn't get into trouble.

But Keisha just laughs, nodding. "Yeah," she says. "Minho's very protective over the other WICKED kids. -Gladers, they call themselves.- Especially Chuck. And Newt, who you'll meet later."

Thomas nods slowly, and walks down the hall to his next patient. Albert Greene, he thinks. What had Minho called him? Alby?

He picks up the file and skims through it, really hoping that he won't have to break up another fight again. 

Patient A8 - Albert Greene

Albert was also one of the first children to be trapped in the Maze. All patients have confirmed that they looked to him as their leader until he was supposedly "stung by a Griever." Patients A1, A5, A6, A7, A9, and A4 all confirm this. We are still uncertain as to how much truth underlies that. 

He is currently diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative amnesia, paranoid personality disorder, and occasional pyromania.  

Albert once set fire to the entire WICKED file, deeming it was to "protect the others". We are unsure as to why he really did this, but other patients have confirmed that he once set fire to their "Map Room" in the Maze. We believe the pyromania is closely linked to the "Griever" sting. 

We are led to believe that the Grievers are mechanical creatures of torture, but are certain that the Grievers are really just a figurehead WICKED created so the Maze kids would blame someone else for their suffering.

Albert doesn't speak very often, or with very many people. We take his vow of silence as a trauma response. He is fiercely protective over the other WICKED kids, Patient A5 especially. We have learned this the hard way.

He sticks to solitude primarily, but is also often seen with Patients A5 and A7, a few other Maze kids as well, on the rare occasion. 

He is on our watch list, due to the occasional pyromania, but he has not tried to set any other fires since the first attempt. 

Other patients have confirmed he tried to sacrifice himself during an escape attempt. We have ruled this as a possible suicide attempt, though Albert does not show any signs of depression or suicidal thoughts. 

We do not see ourselves releasing him any time soon, but he is not actively a threat to himself or others. 

Thomas nods slowly, setting the file back where it belongs. So, pyromania wasn't great. But he seemed to be level headed and quiet. He could work with that. Yeah. He could work with that.

He opens the door, knocking as it creaks open to announce his presence. Albert -or Alby, maybe?- looks up at him, and then back down at the book in his hands. 

"I'm Thomas," he introduces himself. "Your new orderly. I thought I'd stop by and introduce myself."

Alby nods in recognition. But he still doesn't speak. That's fair. Thomas hadn't expected him to verbally respond. His eyes narrow, like he's trying to figure out if Thomas really is who he says he is. 

"Are there..uh, are there any concerns you have?" Thomas asks. "I know Teresa had a huge problem with my shoes, and Minho likes picking fights. Is there anything I should know about you?"

Alby's gaze hardens for a moment, hearing about Thomas's struggle with his friends. But then he hesitates, thinking his question over. And then shakes his head. 

"Just don't hurt the others, that right?" Keisha prompts, swooping in to the rescue. "Put the old orderly in the hospital for calling Newt a psycho, amongst.. some other slurs I'd rather not repeat."

Alby nods gravely, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. His blank stare alone sends chills down Thomas's spine. 

"Well, I'd never call anyone a psycho," he reassures. "Or any slurs, for that matter. You don't have to worry."

Alby doesn't look convinced. Fair enough. Paranoid personality disorder, and all that. That was fine; Thomas would just have his work cut out for him, gaining the guy's trust. That's all. And Thomas loved a good challenge. 

"Well, you're a little behind schedule, 'cause of Minho's tussle," Keisha says kindly. "You've still gotta meet Newt." She pauses, smiling. "Oh, you'll love him. It's impossible not to."

Thomas nods pointedly. He would have liked spending time getting to know all of his patients better, but he could always try again tomorrow. Alby seemed thankful to be rid of him, anyway.

"Well, I'll see ya tomorrow, Alby," Thomas says as he leaves. Alby nods, his guard still up. He'd have to work on that. 

Keisha smiles nervously, stopping Thomas halfway down the hallway. "I actually came to warn you verbally about this one," she says quietly. "His file says it all, but you won't understand the extent of it."

"Really?" Thomas asks, surprised. He wasn't in the intensive care unit. How bad could he be? Was he really that crazy?

Keisha sighs. "He's on our constant watch list, so you'll have your work cut out for ya."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, if he leaves on his own, he'll never come back, for one thing," Keisha explains. The amused glint in her eyes is gone.

Thomas frowns pointedly. "What? Is he a runner? He'll bolt?"

"No," Keisha says. "He just.. he won't realize how long he's been gone. Delirium, and all." 

Thomas hesitates, and then nods curtly, urging Keisha to continue. He can deal with a little delirium. Probably. Hopefully.

"And there's the fact that he's tried to kill himself six times in the year he's been here," Keisha says blankly, like she's discussing the weather. "So watch him."

"Six times?" Thomas repeats, eyes wide. How was he in the daily care section if he'd attempted suicide that often?

Keisha shrugs. "Well, some of the attempts have been more blatant than others. Tried to jump off the roof the first week he was here. Another time he stole a scalpel. We caught him before he could do much more than slice his wrists. The other times, it's just been minimal stuff. Stuff we'd look over. Exhaustion, somehow. Tried to starve himself once. Then we had to watch him to make sure he ate. Got clever, though, and threw it all up after we left. Really watch him, Thomas."

Thomas nods. Of course. He didn't think he'd let this one out of his sight for more than a minute or two. And the way Keisha spoke about him... you could tell just how much she cared about him. Like she was his mom, or something. Maybe that was how she thought of it. 

"Well, read your file and then get in there," Keisha says. "Just don't mention Sonya. And if he tells you he's sick, he's not."

Thomas hesitates, but he nods again. He watches Keisha vanish down the hall, probably going to check on her patients. 

And then he opens the file, already expecting the worst. Was he legally considered a psychopath, or something? He was so confused. What was going on?

Patient A5 - Newton Isaacs

Newton was another one of the first kids in the Maze. He's particularly close with Patients A7 and A8, and though he can be found hanging out with pretty much anyone, he prefers sticking to the company of WICKED kids. 

He is currently diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative amnesia, delirium, suicidal anorexia, dysthymia, and hypochondriasis. 

He is not, by any means, a violet patient, but he is prone to hysteria, insomnia, and panic attacks. He is considered a high risk patient due to his numerous suicide attempts, and it is necessary for him to be constantly supervised.

According to Patients A7 and A8, Newton attempted suicide in the Maze, as well. Apparently that is what earned him the limp in his leg- due to an excessive amount of scar tissue and improper healing. We do not think we will ever be able to fully restore this. 

Newton is thoroughly convinced that he has been infected with the "Flare Virus," as he was told by WICKED that he was not "immune." If he ever brings up the fictional disease, be sure to assure him he is healthy. 

Though he has been diagnosed with delirium, it has been roughly six months since he last hallucinated. We count this as progress. 

All other Maze kids look to him for guidance, though we have confirmed Patients A7 and A8 were the leaders. Patient A14, Chuck, has confessed that he sees Newton as a parental figure, and the others probably think along the same lines. 

During the FBI's rescue attempt, he was found kneeling beside the dead body of a blonde girl we have deemed to be slightly younger than him. Patient B8 tells us her name was Sonya. A friend, or perhaps a girlfriend. Upon being questioned about her, he broke into tears and deflected. He jumped off the roof that night. We have not tried since. 

We figure that Newton will likely be a permanent resident here, as while he is making slight progress, he will never be healthy enough to live on his own, especially with the deliria. 

Thomas slaps the folder shut a little more aggressively than he needed to. These poor kids. This one in particular, too. He sees why the others are so protective over him. 

He knocks on the door and then opens it. The room is filled with clocks. Of all kinds. Digital, wall, analogue, mantel and tabletop. People suffering from delirium struggle with alternate versions of time and reality. 

The blond boy sitting on the bed is, undoubtedly, Newt. Is that what Minho had called him? And Keisha? He was pretty sure.

He wasn't doing much than sitting and staring, piercing brown eyes staring into his. His skin was pale and freckled, his fluffy blond hair in total disarray, like he'd just woken up. It all gave him the appearance of a young child, or, at least, made him look younger than eighteen. 

He tilts his head to the side, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he says before Thomas can say anything. "Didn't know I'd have visitors."

"I'm Thomas," he introduces himself. "Your new orderly. I thought I'd stop by, get to know you."

Newt's eyes widen. "Really? Lizzy was just tellin' me that someone new had started today. Small world, huh?"

"Sure," Thomas says, not knowing who Lizzy was.

Looking at this boy, he wouldn't have thought anything was wrong with him. He was friendly and smiling. Kind and welcoming. But then he frowns.

"You're not a hallucination, are you?" He asks.

Thomas stares at him, confused. "No, I'm not," he says. "You know you have hallucinations? Aren't delirium patients not supposed to realize that?"

"Well, they all feel quite real," Newt says. "But Keisha says they aren't, and I trust her." He pauses. "Unless Keisha's one, too."

"No, Keisha's real," Thomas assures him. "She's the head nurse here. She seems quite fond of you."

Newt pauses, and then he nods slowly. "Right," he says. "Here." He adds it like he's not quite sure where "here" is. 

"Here," Thomas agrees. "At the Glade Psychiatric Facility."

Newt's eyes widen in slight recognition. "Of course," he says. "The Glade. In the Maze."

"No," Thomas says kindly. "Not the Maze. You got out of the Maze."

"We did? We did." Newt stares at him, pretty much awestruck. Huh. "But we're still trapped in here."

Thomas's face falls, expression contorting with sympathy. "You're not trapped here," he says, even though, legally, he is. "You're just staying here so we can make sure you don't hurt yourself."

Newt frowns pointedly, like he doesn't know what to make of that. "You think I'm crazy too, don't you?" He asks sullenly.

"No," Thomas says quickly. "Not at all." He pauses, sitting down on the bed beside the blond. What gave him the audacity to do that? Newt didn't even know him. Who did he think he was? "I think that you went through something really traumatizing, and you're going through a lot. Some things you maybe don't even really understand. But I don't think you're crazy."

Newt looks over at him, face contorted with an emotion Thomas couldn't quite place. Was he always this difficult to read? "Is it because I'm sick?" 

"Sick?" Thomas prompts. Does he think his disorders make him sick? One of the orderlies had called him a psycho, according to Keisha. Had he taken that to heart? Thomas hoped he hadn't. He'd just met this boy, but he wanted nothing more than to erase all the pain from his heart.

Newt nods pointedly. "With the Flare," he says. "I'm not crazy, Tommy," he adds quietly. "Not yet."

"You don't have the Flare," Thomas assures him, remembering what Keisha had said, and what was in his file. "The Flare's not even real, I promise. WICKED just invented it."

Newt shakes his head adamantly. "You don't get it, Tommy. I'm sick. I'm gonna turn into a crank," he says helplessly, slowly working himself into a state of hysteria.

"No you won't," Thomas says quickly. "You don't have the Flare."

"I do," Newt insists. 

"You don't," Thomas presses. "You're not sick. You don't have the Flare. The Flare doesn't even exist. It was all a cruel, twisted joke WICKED played on you."

Newt just stares at him, glassy eyes burning with a complete and utter helplessness. "You don't know that," he whispers. "You weren't there."

"Newt, I promise," Thomas murmurs. "Don't you trust me?"

"I prolly shouldn't," Newt manages, "but I do."

"I would never lie to you," Thomas says quietly. "No matter what. And I promise you, you don't have the Flare. You're not going crazy."

Newt looks at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "Then why do I see things that aren't really there?"

Thomas feels his heart shatter into a million pieces. 

"You meet all your patients?" A brunette nurse asks. Her name's Brenda. She's about Thomas's age, and apparently takes care of a few other Maze kids. Chuck and a girl named Harriet. 

Thomas nods. "All WICKED ones," he says. "Those poor kids. They've been through so much. They didn't deserve any of it."

"I know what you mean," Brenda says softly. "My kid, Chuck, he's fourteen. Got here at thirteen. Must've been ten or eleven when WICKED got him."

Thomas shakes his head sadly. "Yeah, met him today," he says. "Does he get picked on a lot?" Brenda's sullen expression tells him all he needs to know.

They fall silent for a minute. Two. It's a little tense, but more melancholy than anything else. Those poor kids didn't deserve what happened to them. Thomas wanted nothing more than to take their pain from them. 

"You've got Newt, right?" Brenda asks. Thomas nods. "Sweet little thing. Absolutely adorable. Poor kid's got so much ruining his life."

Thomas sighs in agreement. The disorientation he'd shown today was proof enough that he was drugged up to oblivion. And mentally sick. Poor kid. The delirium, the dysthymia, the hypochondriasis. He didn't deserve any of it. Thomas could tell, by their short interaction alone, that he was so mentally tired; just done with it all. 

"He and a few others are scared sick of the boss," Brenda says, laughing sadly. "Janson. Even going so far as to call him 'Ratman'."

Thomas looks over at her, confused. He hadn't met his boss yet, but he'd seemed like a decent guy over the phone. What was there to be scared of? Was he the type of patriarch that was relentless in his display of power?

"Why?" Thomas asks, all too eager to find out the answer. Maybe he should have been a detective, or something, rather than working here. But then again, then he wouldn't have met Newt, and the thought of that doesn't sit right with him. 

Brenda shrugs. "They all like to insist that he worked for WICKED. That he forced them into the Scorch." She sighs. "We have paperwork and camera footage that proves he's been working here for twenty years. They've all lost it with paranoia."

"You haven't stopped to consider that they were right?" Thomas asks. "Never looked into it?"

Brenda stares at him, incredulous. "You met four of 'em today," she says. "Maybe even more. You should know that you can't really trust a word outta their mouths. I love 'em, but they're so mentally fucked that they're spouting utter nonsense all the time."

"Right," Thomas says, unconvinced. 

"As I was saying," Brenda says, changing the subject, "you've got Newt. He's a high risk. You should be watching him all the time."

Thomas's eyes widen. "Oh, shoot!" He shouts, springing up. "Shit! I totally forgot about that- thanks- see ya!"

Brenda laughs as he runs down the corridor. 

"Oh," Newt says. He doesn't act surprised, but his eyes are wide and his brow is furrowed in confusion. "You're back."

Thomas nods. "I am," he agrees. "And I'm here to stay, pretty much. Why's that such a shock to you?"

"Most orderlies don't stay for very long," Newt says, shrugging. "Pop in to make sure I'm not tryna hang myself, and then leave again. Last one didn't even do that. Thought about doin' it, just to spite him, but Alby talked me out of it."

Thomas grimaces, sitting down on the bed beside him again. "Yeah, I heard about the last guy," he says. "Sounds like a douche." He pauses. "Am I allowed to say things like that?"

Newt stares at him. "Why wouldn't you be?" The answer goes unspoken, but Newt seems to read his mind anyway. "I'm not a little bloody kid, Tommy."

"Of course you're not." Thomas is very quick to agree. "I just wasn't sure if swearing was acceptable in this facility."

Newt just shrugs. "My last orderly didn't seem to have a bloody problem with it," he says, a little defeated. 

"Well, your last orderly was an asshole," Thomas says. "Keisha told me he called you a psycho. That's unacceptable. I can't believe he talked to you like that."

Newt looks at the ground, expression wistful. His eyes have welled up with tears. "And a faggot," he says quietly.

"What?" Thomas asks, not sure if he'd heard him correctly.

"He called me that, too," Newt whispers. 

Thomas puts a hand on his shoulder, attempting to console. Newt finally looks up at him, a little bit surprised. "You don't deserve that." 

Newt doesn't look entirely convinced. Self-doubt probably came with dysthymia. Thomas hugs him tightly. Just for a second, mind you, before pulling away. Newt hadn't hugged back. He doesn't move, frozen in shock, mouth agape.

"You hugged me," he says finally.

"I did," Thomas agrees.

"Why?" Newt asks, incredulous. Like it was so bizarre and ridiculous for someone to hug him. 

Thomas just shrugs. "You look like you needed a hug," he says. "Making you comfortable is what I'm here to do, y'know?"

"Right," Newt says, still a little unconvinced. "Tommy, do you have other patients?" Thomas nods, trying to give some little speech about how Newt was his favorite, but not to tell the others. But Newt cuts him off. "I'm okay on my own if you want to spend time with them, too. Lizzy's coming to visit later. She's a little shy. Doesn't like to talk to anyone but me."

Thomas nods slowly. "Oh, okay," he says. He hates to admit that he feels a little disappointed to be leaving Newt's side. Keisha was right; it was impossible to not like him. 

But he bids the blond goodbye and goes to check up on Teresa, see how her hands were doing after earlier. He'll peek his head in Newt's room in a half hour or so, just to make sure he isn't trying anything. And then maybe he'll spend some time with Minho. He seemed cool. And he'd have to work on Alby's distrust. That seemed like it would be a slow process, though.

Lizzy tilts her head to the side, leaning back against the wall as she sits on his bed. "That new orderly seems to like you," she teases. 

"Ya think so?" Newt asks. "He's just doin' his job. Can't leave me alone too long, since apparently I'm a 'threat to myself'."

Lizzy shakes her head adamantly. "He hugged you," she points out. "Not even Keisha hugged you on her first day."

"Well, maybe," Newt says, "but I'm sure he doesn't like me. I dunno if he's actually even real, Liz."

Lizzy frowns pointedly. "He's real," she says. "I've seen him around. Minho keeps talkin' him up. Harriet says Brenda's pretty keen on him, too."

"The nurse?" Newt asks.

Lizzy nods quickly. "Yup," she chirps. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"No," Newt is quick to say. "No way." He pauses. "I just met him, Lizzy. He's... he's got some strong morals, I guess. But even if I did like him, he'd never like me."

Lizzy's frown deepens. She leans in a little closer to her brother, dropping her head on his shoulder. "Why?" She asks. 

"'Cause I'm crazy," Newt whispers. "I'm always trying to die, and.. and I've got the Flare, a-and I see things that aren't there so often I dunno what's real and what's not. I dunno what time it is, and I've got fifty odd clocks in here."

Lizzy sighs, hugging him tightly. He hugs her back. "You're not crazy," she whispers. "And the Flare's not real, remember? Miss Keisha says you just have hypochondriasis. That's way easier to deal with than the Flare."

"I still hallucinate," Newt murmurs. "My delirium's just gettin' worse, Liz. I barely know what's real anymore."

"I'll always be here to ground you," Lizzy utters. "Always. It's what family does."

Newt nods slowly. They fall into silence. It's not tense, or awkward. There's so much that goes unspoken between them, almost like vibrations of radiation. Lizzy understands what Newt's not saying, and vice versa. 

"Minho got in a fight earlier," Lizzy says instead. "Rachel told me. In the courtyard. She helped break it up."

"Wish I could've seen that," Newt says. He used to get exasperated when Minho would relentlessly pick fights, but now he's give just about anything to see one again. 

He wasn't allowed outside anymore. Couldn't even leave his room without a chaperone. Otherwise he'd get confused, disoriented, and never come back. Delirium, and all that. 

That seemed to be the worst of his problems these days. Dysthymia used to be the worst of it- the emptiness, the numbness, the constant hysteria and sobbing. The self harm and the suicide attempts that kept getting prevented. 

His hypochondriasis didn't do a whole lot for other people, other than exasperate them. For Newt, half the time he forgot he had it. It was just having the Flare for him, though Keisha and the others continued to insist that the Flare wasn't even real. 

"Maybe Thomas will take you outside," Lizzy suggests half-heartedly.

Newt tilts his head to the side, taking it into consideration. "Yeah," he says. "Maybe."

"So you met the others?" Minho asks. "Newt and Alby?" Thomas nods. "Alby say anything?" Thomas shakes his head. "Yeah, didn't think so. Only really talks to me and Newt." He pauses. "Ya meet Newt? Ya like him?"

Thomas sighs. Was he getting interrogated by his patient... on another patient? "He's sweet," he manages. "A little disoriented, but that goes along with having delirium."

"You'd better not hurt him," Minho says sternly. "Not like the last orderly did. Alby might not keep you alive. I certainly wouldn't."

Thomas puts a hand over his heart, feigning shock. "I thought I was halfway decent?" He jokes. "But, no, seriously. I don't want to hurt him. He's really very sweet. Poor guy doesn't deserve everything he's been diagnosed with. None of you do."

Minho hesitates, nodding his approval. Had this been a test, or something? Was he trying to figure out how far Thomas was willing to go for him?

"Good," Minho says pointedly. "You like him. So now you'll be willing to out Ratman with us."

"Janson?" Thomas prompts. "My boss? I'll get fired!"

Minho tilts his head to the side, amused. "But you're still the first orderly to not nod cleanly, assure us they'll take care of it, and never bring it up again. The first orderly to treat us like maybe we're right."

"If it was one or two of you, maybe," Thomas says, shrugging. "But all ten of you have confirmed it. I'm not dismissing the possibility."

Minho grins. "See, I knew I liked you for a reason," he says. "Janson's tryna get us back. He's biding his time. Soon enough, one of us is bound to disappear. He'll say they're goin' to intensive care, but they're really goin' back to WICKED."

Thomas frowns pointedly. "I thought WICKED got disestablished by the FBI," he says.

"I doubt it," Minho says. "And if they did, Ratman's tryna rebuild."

Thomas nods slowly, incredulous. What Minho was spouting could be entirely nonsense. It could be totally ridiculous. He could see why most of the other orderlies had blamed their rambling on their disorders. 

"Teresa will know more about it than me," Minho says eventually. "She never lost her memories. They never took them from her."

"Right," Thomas says. 

Then he bids Minho goodbye and walks down the hall to Teresa's room. He'd ask how her hands were as an excuse, but then he'd ask her how she felt about Janson. It seemed he was the only one with their interests at heart. 

He knocks on the door. And then he opens it. Teresa's reading again, her bandaged hands flipping through pages rather quickly. 

"Tom," she greets him. "Take your shoes off if you're going to stick around. And do it the right way, please." She shuts her book and sets it down on her desk. 

Thomas nods curtly, taking off his shoes the way she liked. He does it correctly the first time, which is good, because he'd really prefer she doesn't work her way into hysteria like last time. 

"What's up?" She asks when he sits down beside her.

"Wanted to see how your hands were doing," Thomas says. Teresa shrugs, gesturing at her hands with a shrug. She wiggles her fingers to prove she's okay, but even her wiggles are in an organized manner. 

Teresa sighs. "They're alright," she says. "The bandages itch, and it bugs me. But Keisha says I can take them off tomorrow morning."

"Well, at least they're a short-lived installment," Thomas says, trying to be optimistic. 

Teresa nods. She goes back to her oddly organized finger wiggling to keep her occupied. Or maybe her brain told her she had to. OCD worked like that sometimes.

"Minho says you'd know more about Janson," Thomas says. He wasn't sure why he was so intrigued by this, but he was sure that there had to be at least a little bit of truth behind their claims. 

Teresa scowls. "Ratman," she says bitterly. "Always watching us. Trying to use something against us, get us into the 'intensive unit,' when really all he'll do is take us back to WICKED. He's just waiting for us to slip up."

"So Janson did work for WICKED, then?" Thomas prompts. He wishes he'd brought something to take notes on, so he didn't forget anything. He was obtaining a plethora of information today. 

Teresa nods gravely. "He didn't just work for them," she says grimly. "He was Paige's right hand man."

While lots of the patients seemed to enjoy spending time in the courtyard, Thomas saw it as nothing but a stressful situation. Maybe that was because a fight had broken out his first time out there. He wasn't sure. He didn't really care. 

He's with Minho right now, but he'd taken Teresa out earlier. She'd sat under a tree and read. Very peaceful, very uneventful. Just what Thomas had hoped it would be. 

Thomas checked the timer on his watch. Thirty seconds remaining. Damn, he'd totally forgotten about that. "Hey," he calls out. "Can you promise to be on your best behavior while I check on Newt?" He asks teasingly.

Minho jokingly tells him he'll kill everyone. Thomas considers taking Minho with him until the patient assures him that he'd been joking. Thomas asks Brenda to keep an eye on him nonetheless.

He knocks on the door before opening it. Apparently a lot of orderlies don't knock, but Thomas thinks that that's disrespectful. It's common courtesy, really. Why wouldn't they knock?

Alby's over. They're both sitting on Newt's bed. Newt looks like his eyes are tearing up; Alby's face is contorted with concern and sympathy. They're apparently having a very serious conversation that Thomas only hears a little bit of. 

"I know you don't like Lizzy, but-"

"I'm just saying that if you stopped talking to her, she might go away." Alby cuts him off. "She's just-"

"Tommy," Newt interrupts, recognizing his presence and welcoming him in. "Is everything alright?"

Thomas sighs. "Just, y'know, making sure you're not dead. As is in my job description."

Alby nods his goodbye to Newt and then leaves without a word for Thomas. Not even a blank stare like he'd gotten yesterday. Alright. Was it possible he trusted him a little less?

"Are patients allowed to visit one another's rooms?" Thomas asks, inviting conversation. He isn't quite sure about all the rules here, and he doesn't want to get his patients into any trouble.

Especially given their beef with Janson. 

"Most are," Newt says. "I'm not allowed to leave my room on my own, though." He seems a little disheartened, melancholy, about that. "'Cause I get confused," he adds, an afterthought.

Right. His delirium. If he left on his own, he'd probably never find his way back. 

"Well, do you want to come out to the courtyard with me?" Thomas asks instead. "Minho's already out there. I'm sure he'd appreciate the company."

Newt's face seems to brighten a little bit. "Really?" He asks, incredulous. Thomas nods. "I'd love to." 

Thomas extends a hand to help him up. The blond accepts it, smiling gently. There's something about that smile that makes Thomas feel like everything's going to be okay.

"Y'know, Lizzy was just telling me that I should get out more," Newt says softly.

Thomas looks over at him. "Who's Lizzy?" He asks. "You seem to be talking to her a lot. Is she a patient here?"

"She's my little sister," Newt says. "Not a patient, but she visits all the time."

Thomas nods in understanding. Why, then, had Alby told him to cut her off? Shouldn't siblings be close like that? And really, from what Newt said, it didn't seem like she was any kind of toxic. Maybe he'd check the visitor records on his way out, just in case.

He didn't want to think about anyone upsetting him. Alby seemed to be very serious about the warning, which led Thomas to believe that his interactions with Lizzy weren't as healthy as Newt made them out to be. 

Thomas drops Newt's hand only when he sees Minho in a fist fight with another patient. He rushes over to help the other orderly- a guy his age with dirty blond hair.

But when he gets closer, he realizes the orderly isn't trying very hard to break them up. He pauses, confused. Knowing this might take a while, he grabs Newt's hand again so he doesn't wander off.

"Why aren't you stopping them?" He asks.

The other orderly just shrugs. "They're both Maze kids. They've got this friendly rivalry going on, but it's not serious. Y'know? They'd die for each other, if it came to it."

"That's Gally," Newt agrees, nodding serenely. 

Thomas relaxes a little bit, seeing that Newt's not particularly worried. He'd been one of the leaders in the Maze, hadn't he? That still shocked Thomas, to be honest; to imagine this soft-spoken, broken boy in a cold, hard, leadership position.

He must have been really different, before he broke. 

Minho looks up from the fight. He grins, steps away from the tussle, and points at Newt to get Gally's attention. Both of them stop what they're doing and go over to talk to him.

"They finally let you out, huh?" Gally asks.

Newt just shrugs. "Not on my own," he says. "Think it's like what Alby did back in the Maze."

"Right," Minho says. "That's dumb. Maybe you'd get better easier if you were allowed to do what you wanted."

Thomas is actually inclined to agree a little. Newt must have been very strong-willed, back in his prime. A leader. He took care of everyone else. And now, given the circumstances, he isn't even trusted to take care of himself. Maybe regressing to his old routine every now and then could aid his recovery.

"I'm Ben," the orderly says to him. "You're the new guy, right? Thomas?" Thomas nods. "And they stuck you with four Maze kids? Those are some tricky patients. I've only got two. Gally and Rachel."

Thomas shrugs. "They're not so bad," he says. "Teresa's a gem, so long as you take your shoes off properly. Minho gets in fights here and there, but he's a good guy. Alby doesn't like me. But Newt... man, it's impossible to not like him."

"Newt's the sweetest patient you'll ever have," Ben agrees. "Doesn't matter where you end up. You'll never look after someone like him."

Thomas looks over to his right. Newt's already a little more extraverted than he had been a few minutes ago. Minho has an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and the three of them are laughing about something that happened in the Maze. 

He's got this smirk on his face- an expression Thomas could never have imagined on him. It's more self-assured than Thomas has ever seen him. Surely keeping him isolated was worsening things. Delirium, especially.

"You think keeping him locked up is making his stuff worse?" Thomas asks Ben. "The delirium? The dysthymia?"

Ben shrugs. "Maybe," he says. "I mean, he certainly looks a little more like he used to, surrounded by the other Maze kids. You should try to get him out and about more often, see if it helps."

"That's what I was planning on doing, actually," Thomas says. "I'm supposed to check on him every couple of minutes, anyway, so maybe I'll just bring him with me when I'm working."

Ben nods curtly. "Keisha has been suggesting that for ages, but his past orderlies said they were 'experts on delirium' and that it would just make it worse. She brought it to Janson, once, but he shot it down instantly."

Thomas frowns. This seemed to be more proof that Janson was still working for WICKED. What reason would he have to shoot down Keisha's suggestion so immediately, if not because he didn't want Newt to recover?

"You know how they all say Janson worked for WICKED?" Thomas asks. Ben nods, a little puzzled. "Because hearing that... it almost seems like he doesn't want Newt to get better."

Ben sighs. "A few of us have looked into it, but there's nothing other than their claims connecting Janson to the cult," he explains. "There might have been someone who looked similar, but even still... there's a lot they say that you can't really trust."

"Brenda said that, too," Thomas says. "But the way they talk about him... and if he vouched to keep Newt locked up, knowing it'd worsen the delirium..."

Ben is silent for a few moments. Thomas doesn't blame him. He's been here two days, and he's already kind of conspiring against his boss. And for what? Why? Because a few of his mentally unstable, legally crazy patients said so?

"Most of us don't like Janson," Ben says quietly. "And, really, I wouldn't put it past him, to work for that cult. Especially with how gravely those kids talk about him. But there's not a whole lot we can do, until he does something more blatant."

Thomas frowns. "So we can't do anything until he ships one of them back to WICKED?"

"Not exactly," Ben says. "We can't do anything until Janson outright does something that's worsening their conditions. Newt's case is subjective. We don't have enough evidence. But if he does something else... we'll be on him."

Minho laughs a little louder, drawing Thomas's attention back to their conversation. "No I don't!" He says, his face flushed.

"You totally do!" Newt says, his smile bigger than Thomas has ever seen it. "You prolly did when she first came up in the Box!"

Gally nods his agreement. "Oh, totally! You were tryna hide it, dude, but you were so into her!"

"I was not!" Minho protests. "I'm still not!"

Newt rolls his eyes. "Okay, Min," he says. "Whatever you say." He exchanges glances with Gally. "But we'll help you confess when you come to terms with it, mate."

"I'll only accept your help when you do the same with Tommy," Minho teases. "You little hypocrite."

Newt's eyes widen. "The orderly?" He prompts. Minho nods. "I swear, you're no better than Lizzy!"

Minho and Gally freeze, exchanging sympathetic looks. Newt pauses, biting his lip as he looks in between them.

"You gotta stop talking to her, dude," Minho says softly. "She'll never go away if you keep inviting her back."

"She's my little sister."

Gally sighs. "I know," he says. "And I know it hurts, but... you need to come to terms with it, or things are gonna get worse. If Ratman catches wind of it..."

"I don't wanna talk about this," Newt says quickly. "You're both being ridiculous."

Thomas looks over at Ben for an explanation. The other orderly just shrugs, proving he's out of the loop, too. This seemed to be a little more problematic than Newt was letting on. 

Thomas flips through the visitor's records for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. There's not a single "Lizzy Isaacs" in there. Not once has she visited. 

That was fine, Thomas had thought half an hour ago. Maybe "Lizzy" was just a nickname. Maybe her name was Elizabeth, or Eliza, or something. But there wasn't a single one of those, either. Not even one with a different surname.

Keisha looks at him, eyes wide. "Slow down, there," she says. "Your eyes can't keep up with how fast you're flippin' through that."

Thomas sets the record book back on the desk, defeated. Had she been sneaking in, maybe? Gally seemed to think that Janson was being kept out of the loop of Lizzy's visits. 

"You looking for someone in particular?" Keisha asks. 

Thomas nods slowly. "Yeah, actually," he says. Keisha seemed close to Newt. Maybe she knew something. "Newt keeps mentioning his sister. Seems like she visits a lot, but she's not anywhere in the book."

"I told you not to bring up Sonya," Keisha says sternly. Her arms are crossed. 

"I didn't," Thomas says quickly. "I dunno who Sonya is. He just keeps talking about Lizzy, and none of the other WICKED kids seem to like how much he talks to her. I thought maybe there was some kind of toxicity, or something."

Keisha's face falls. She tries to regain her composure, but even then, her smile is contorted with heartbreak. "Lizzy is Sonya," she says. "WICKED renamed 'em. Lizzy- that's what he called her before they got kidnapped." She sighs. "But Sonya... she died."

Thomas frowns pointedly. How was that possible? Newt had been talking to her almost every day. Sure, Thomas had only been here two days, but it seemed like a fairly regular occurrence. 

"By the time the FBI got to the compound, there was no saving her," Keisha continues sadly. "Her body was still warm. They practically had to pull Newt away from her. He wouldn't leave her. Sobbed and sobbed. Till, eventually, he just stopped grieving her. That's when we caught on to the delirium."

Thomas's eyes widen. Now he understands why everyone's so worried about him talking to Lizzy. It's not that she's an unhealthy companion, it's that she's not even real at all.

"She's a..." Thomas's voice trails off.

Keisha nods solemnly. "A hallucination," she concludes. Her posture goes rigid, sad expression contorting into a sterner one. "You can't tell anyone about that. You hear? Janson catches word of it, and he'll be shipped off to the intensive unit."

Thomas knew very well what that meant, if what the other Maze kids said had anything to do with it.

"I won't breathe a word of it to anyone," Thomas assures her. Newt's his responsibility. He's going to protect him. "Actually," he adds, "I think I might sleep here tonight."

He has a lot of work to do.

"Hey," Thomas says. "You mind if I stay the night?"

Newt just shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Don't sleep much anyway."

Thomas decides that's the least of his problems. He has to mention Sonya -or Lizzy, maybe?- to him. Her existence, or lack there of. If Janson caught wind of the hallucination, they were all screwed. and Thomas wasn't going to let that happen.

"I wanted to talk to you about Lizzy," Thomas says. "About Sonya." 

Newt looks at him, confused. "Why?" He asks. "Did she say something to you? She's a little overprotective, but-"

"I need to show you something," Thomas says, cutting him off. It's so hard to see Newt like this. So fragile, so obviously, irreparably broken. 

Newt looks even more confused than he had before. But he lets Thomas take him by the hand and lead him to the main lobby. It's pretty late in the evening- eight or so. Most patients are already in bed, the night orderlies just checking in for their shifts.

Brenda nods at Thomas as she signs out, a little bit confused. He doesn't offer much explanation, but Brenda seems to get the gist of it anyway. 

Thomas leads Newt over to the visitor's log. Lets him flip through it, even though he doesn't yet know what he's looking for. Doesn't even know what it is he's reading.

"That's the visitor's record," Thomas says. "Every visitor who's come in here this past month has their name written down. Time in, time out." 

He waits, letting Newt flip through more pages. Most of them were blank, but that didn't seem to keep him from turning to the next one, just in case there were more names. (There weren't.)

"Sonya's name isn't on there once," Thomas concludes. 

He has a hand on Newt's far shoulder. For consolation, sure, since this scenario was going to require it, but also a precaution to make sure he didn't bolt in the other direction.

"I don't understand," Newt says. "Is she.. sneaking in, then?"

"No," Thomas says softly. Why was this so difficult? This hurt him almost as much as it was going to hurt Newt. "You know why her name isn't on there."

Please figure it out, he thinks. Just put two and two together so I don't have to say it. So I don't have to hurt you.

"I don't," Newt whispers. "I don't understand, Tommy. Why are you showing me this? Why isn't she-?"

"She's not real," Thomas murmurs, cutting him off. "And you know that, deep down. She's just a hallucination."

Newt hesitates. His eyes have welled with tears. He shakes his head adamantly. "No, she's real. Ask anyone. Aris and Harriet and Rachel- they were in the Maze with her. She was dating Harriet and Rachel, Tommy. They know her just as well as I do."

Thomas sighs. He sits down in the waiting area, pulling Newt onto the couch beside him. Keeping one hand on the blond's shoulder, he takes one of Newt's hands in the other. 

"She was real," Thomas corrects him. It's gentle. Watching Newt cry silently, it's almost enough to have his eyes welling up, too. "She died. In the WICKED compound. You know that, deep down. They had to pry you away from her body."

Newt shakes his head again, a little more aggressive this time. "No, she's- she's not dead. She's here all the time!"

"Newt," Thomas whispers. "She's a hallucination. She's something that your mind concocted for you so you wouldn't have to grieve."

Newt looks around wildly. He's on the verge of hysteria. Maybe this was a bad idea. Or maybe things had to get worse before they got better. Or so Thomas hoped, anyway. 

"She's right there," Newt cries, pointing to a spot in the room. It's totally empty. "You- tell me you see, her, Tommy." 

Thomas says nothing.

"Please, tell me you see her," Newt repeats, his voice carrying a sort of defeated finality to it. "Please, Tommy, please."

Thomas shakes his head slowly, pulling Newt into a sideways hug. "There's no one there," he utters. "It's just an empty space."

"But- she- I don't understand," Newt chokes out, unable to finish a single one of his sentences. He's staring at Thomas now, his tear-stricken face enough to shatter Thomas's heart into a million pieces.

"You trust me, don't you?" Thomas asks. Newt manages a slight nod, dropping his head into the crook of Thomas's neck. "I'd never lie to you. Just like Keisha wouldn't. She's not there, Newt."

Newt doesn't say anything. He just lets out this heartbroken, defeated sob. Thomas lets go of his hand, moving to hug him tighter with both arms this time. 

He rubs circles on the blond's back, feeling slightly more miserable as the patient finally hugs him back. I just broke your heart, Thomas thinks. Why is it you still trust me?

"She felt so real," Newt manages. "I- I thought I was getting better."

"I know," Thomas whispers into his hair, hugging the blond tighter to his chest. "And you are. You're going to get so much better, now that you've faced this."

And if Thomas had been looking, he would've noticed Newt make eye contact with the dark-eyed hallucination he'd concocted. Would've seen his heart sink even more as she waved goodbye, and vanished.

"They kept trying to tell me," Newt whispers. "Alby and Min and the others.. but I... she felt so real."

"I know," Thomas says again, just as gentle. "I know."

Newt pulls away, hands on Thomas's knees to keep balanced. "Tommy, I need you to promise me something," he utters.

"Of course," Thomas says.

"Always tell me what's real," he says, "and what's not. I don't think I can tell the difference anymore."

Thomas nods, biting his lip. His eyes are welling with tears now. He hugs the blond again, hoping to distract his own emotions. Newt goes willingly, practically sobbing into his chest. 

"I used to know," Newt whispers. His voice is muffled, but Thomas can still tell what he's saying. "When they weren't real. Then they got better at hiding it, or- or maybe... maybe I just stopped caring."

Thomas hugs him tighter. This was a step to healing. To recovery. He had to keep reminding himself of the fact, otherwise he'd blame himself for causing the blond so much misery.

"Are they all like that?" Thomas asks. "The hallucinations? People you cared about?" Maybe that was the wrong thing to ask right now. But it's too late to take it back. 

"Mhm." Even if it wasn't muffled, Thomas wasn't sure it'd sound any different. "Nick, Zart. Clint n Jeff. My parents." Pause. "Barely even remember my parents. Dunno how they popped up."

"It's gonna be okay," Thomas says, even though he's not sure if it is. "I'll always be here."

And he is. That's one thing he's sure of. Even if he gets another job, he'll never stop coming to visit Newt. Is that weird? Probably. It's probably super weird, actually. 

It was like... he couldn't think of his life without him now, even though they'd only known each other for a few days. He didn't feel this attached with Teresa, or with Minho. And even them he felt like he was friends with, more than they were his patients.

So what was this? How he could define it?

"I think I love you," Newt whispers. 

Love. Is that was this was? This feeling that overrode all the others? Yeah. Probably. But was that weird? To be in love with your own patient?

Especially one this broken?

"I love you too," Thomas says before he can dwell on it. 

What was that thing called? Florence Nightingale Syndrome? Or was it an effect? Whatever. Maybe Florence Nightingale was just ahead of her time. She seemed to know what she was doing in the love department.

"You sure you're real?" Newt chuckles sadly.

Thomas kisses the top of his head. "I'm real," he assures him. "I'll always be here to tell you when something's not."

"Thank you, Tommy," Newt manages. "Yunno, it's like.. you kinda make me want to stay alive."

Thomas smiles. Given this poor boy's history, that's one of the greatest compliments he's ever received. 

This was just a step to healing. There'd be a lot more of those. But Thomas would be there to help with all of them. That was his job, wasn't it?

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He knew Newt was an insomniac, but he thought that maybe after everything that had happened, he'd tire himself out enough to get a little sleep. 

Clearly Thomas had, too. 

He woke up in Newt's room, hugging the blond to his chest. Newt's back was pressed flush against him, their legs intertwined. Thomas had one arm thrown over the blond's waist, the other wrapped his shoulder, resting on his opposite bicep. 

How had this even happened? He didn't remember a whole lot, after coaxing Newt back into his room. The night orderlies were giving him odd looks. Wasn't he supposed to console his patients, rather than make them more upset?

Sure, he'd probably have laid down with him if he'd asked. But Newt wouldn't have asked, would he? Actually, he probably would have. It seemed like he'd seriously needed the comfort. 

"...Tommy?" So he was awake, too. How long had they both been awake, just laying there?

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he whispers. "For last night. I dunno if I showed you properly how much it meant to me. I was..."

"A little bit of a mess," Thomas concludes. "But I think I got it. It was like losing her for a second time. I understand."

Newt turns around to face him, hands gripping the brunet's shoulders. "I feel a lot better now," he confesses, like it's a secret. "Like a whole weight's been lifted off my shoulders."

"You're one step closer to recovery," Thomas says. "She was your only hallucination. So, technically, you've stopped hallucinating now. I'm sure you'll still get a little disoriented, delirium-wise, but I'll always be there to ground you."

Newt kisses him on the mouth. Their first real kiss. Thomas is too shocked to kiss back, almost disappointed when the blond pulls away so quickly, so he kisses him again. It lasts a little longer this time. 

"They told me I was sick," Newt says. He pulls away and sits up. Thomas is quick to follow in suit.

He frowns pointedly, thinking that this is going to open things up for the hypochondria. "What do you mean?" He asks.

"WICKED," Newt explains. "Said I had this thing called the Flare."

"Yeah," Thomas says. "But the Flare never actually existed. It was something they made up. Kind of like a cruel, twisted prank."

Newt just shrugs. "I dunno if it was just my mind playing tricks on me, 'cause I believed it, or if it was the thing they put in my brain, but... I was going crazy, Tommy. Seriously losing it."

Thomas doesn't know what to say to that. Is this essentially Newt asking him to cure him of hypochondria? Or maybe... maybe that was never the proper diagnosis in the first place? It was more of a brainwashing thing?

"Then the doctors said it was a special kind of poison," Newt continues. "Somethin' WICKED created and injected into me. Wasn't goin' crazy. I was just.. kinda delirious. Like when you get bit by somethin' venomous."

"You're not sick," Thomas assures him. "You don't have the Flare."

Newt nods slowly. "I know, I just..." his voice trails off. "It was like my life was over. And I'd accepted that, y'know? And then... then it was just gone. Like it never mattered. Something super life-altering and horrible was never even real."

Thomas watches him, waiting for him to continue. This was a break through. And, really, he seemed to be having a lot of those. Maybe, all this time, he'd just needed someone he could talk to.

Someone who would really, actually listen.

"Sometimes I just get scared," Newt finishes. "That I've got it again. I mean, how can something that was gonna end my life just stop existing all of a sudden?"

Thomas kisses him on the cheek. "What WICKED did was really horrible," he says, "and I know you'll never forget the Flare. Or any of it, really. But you're safe now. From all of it. I won't let them hurt you, or any of the others."

"I know, I just..." Newt's voice trails off. "You might just need to remind me sometimes."

"I will," Thomas assures him. "I promise."

"Good that."

"Guess what," Thomas says, grinning widely. 

Keisha stares at him like she doesn't want to know the answer. "Never seen you smile before," she says. "Kinda disorienting."

"No more hallucination-sister," Thomas concludes, realizing that Keisha's not going to respond to his "guess what" with an enthusiastic "what?!". 

Keisha's eyes widen as she breaks out into a huge smile of her own. "Are you serious?" She asks. Thomas nods. "How'd you do it? We've all been trying-"

Thomas just shrugs. He explains how he'd shown Newt the visitor's log, and then his slightly hysterical breakdown. And then he'd been okay. Keisha seemed actually, incredulously thrilled about the recent event. 

"And I'm not actually sure he ever really had hypochondria," Thomas continues. "It's almost like brainwashing. They made him believe he had that Flare thing, so he really thought he did. It was... a mentality, almost."

Keisha nods. "Well, if he keeps all this improvement up... we might even be able to release him," she says. "Given he has the proper care, and everything." She winks. "But I think you'll take care of that, and something happened last night that you're not telling me."

Thomas feels his face heat up. He doesn't want to say anything. What if there's a strict no dating your patient policy he isn't aware of? But then he remembers that this is Keisha, and she doesn't seem to be much of a rule follower, anyway.

"He loves me," Thomas says evasively.

"And you love him."

"...Yeah," Thomas relents, "I do."

Keisha smiles knowingly. "Just, y'know, keep working on him," she says, changing the subject as another orderly walks in. She looks old and is definitely a little Janson spy. "Take him out and about, having him interact with others. He's getting a lot better, I can tell."

"Of course," Thomas says. "You should have seen him out in the courtyard with Gally and Minho yesterday. I was right there to make sure he didn't get lost, but it was like he was an entirely different person."

Keisha smiles. The old lady is dropping things off in the fridge, but still most definitely eavesdropping on their conversation. And they all know it. So maybe there was a no dating your patient policy. 

"You're making a lot of progress with him," Keisha says. "Way more than his last orderly. Delirium and hypochondria are pretty much outta the question now. Not much of a risk. Not enough to keep him here, anyway. Keep an eye on the disorientation from delirium, and y'know, the dysthymia. But he might not be as permanent of a resident as we first thought."

The old lady seems satisfied with their professionalism. Or, at least, has grown certain that they're not breaking any rules. She'll have nothing to report to Janson, now that they're law abiding, and his condition has stopped worsening. 

"Don't you dare hurt him," Keisha says under her breath as she makes to leave. 

She doesn't even need to make a threat. Thomas knows she'll do whatever she deems necessary. He nods and promises not to. Besides, hadn't Newt been hurt enough for one lifetime as it was?

Apparently Newt was already very familiar with Teresa's shoe problem. Not that he really needed to be, since none of the patients actually wore shoes. Most of that was just around the hospital, but for higher risk patients, that was at all times. Newt was a little bitter about that. 

Teresa seemed happy to see him, though. It must have been a while since the last time they spoke. They both expect Thomas to weigh in to their conversation, but he's more than happy to just observe. He sits at Teresa's desk, watching them chat excitedly.

"He's never gonna make the first move," Newt warns her. "You might have to step up."

Teresa frowns. "Did he say that? I can't. I can't make the first move. It's not how it went down in my head, so it won't feel right until he makes the first move."

"Do you want me to tell him that?" Newt asks. "Or get Tommy to?"

"No!" Teresa says quickly, her face flushing bright red. "No way! He can't know I like him! What if he doesn't like me back?"

Newt quirks an eyebrow. "I promise he likes you back," he says. "Never stops talkin' about you, and I only see him once in a blue moon."

"Does he really?"

"Yup. 'Teresa did this', or 'Teresa braided her hair today'," Newt says. "You're all he talks about, I swear."

Teresa seems to be in a better mood now. She's sitting cross-legged on her bed, facing Newt, who's pretty much mirroring the pose. They continue ranting about Minho and whether or not he has a crush on Teresa. (Thomas is willing to bet that he does, but he stays indifferent. This shouldn't involve him. This is about getting them both out of their isolation.)

"You think you can let Minho know that I like him without.. y'know, actually telling him I like him?" Teresa asks. It's timid and meek- Thomas has never heard her this soft-spoken.

Newt doesn't falter. "Of course," he says, smiling. "I can be quite persuasive, yunno."

"Oh, trust me, I know," Teresa agrees. "I just didn't know... if you still were. I guess. I haven't really talked to you since...y'know...we got here. Since we had time to reflect and let our brains shuck up."

Newt shrugs. "There was time," he confesses. "But I've felt a lot better lately. Not hallucinating anymore. Never think about the Flare. Really just depressed now, and, y'know, that's nothing new."

"That's great," Teresa says, smiling serenely. "Not that you're depressed, obviously, but that you're getting better." She pauses. "Keisha says I can get released in the spring. Maybe you'll be good by then, too. We can get an apartment together, or something, while we wait for the others."

Newt nods pointedly. "Yeah, we should," he agrees. "If I can get released by then." He adds. 

"It's funny," Teresa says softly. "After everything, I don't think I ever really imagined us actually being free."

"No," Newt says quietly. "Me neither. But here we are. Almost there."

Teresa nods again. "Yeah," she says. "And once everyone gets out of here, we can all buy a big house together. And we can all do whatever we want." She glances over at Thomas briefly. "And Tom can move in with us, since, y'know, you two are all buddy-buddy."

Newt hesitates. Then he leans in closer to her to whisper something in her ear. She pulls away first, gasping and smiling brightly.

"No way," she says. "You did it? That's awesome! I'm so proud of you!"

Thomas doesn't actually know what Newt said to her, but he's sure he can make a pretty educated guess. He doesn't bother, though, since it's pretty obvious and he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

Teresa looks over at him again, her gaze a little more stern. "You'd better not hurt him," she says, slinking an arm over the blond's shoulders and pulling him closer to her. "I learned all kinds of things in the Scorch. You have no idea what I could do to you."

"And I don't wanna find out," Thomas says quickly. "Trust me. I'd never hurt him. I can't even stand to see him upset."

Newt smiles at him. It sends a wave of reassurance crashing over him. Like everything's going to be okay. And maybe, just maybe, it would be. Things certainly seemed to be looking up.

It had been... what? Two months since Newt stopped hallucinating? And he'd only gotten better since then. Way better. Thomas had been talking with Keisha, and she had agreed that he could probably be released around the same time as Teresa, so long as he kept this up. 

And Minho and Alby had gotten a lot better, too. Seeing how happy Newt was with Thomas had convinced Alby to trust him, even if it was just a little at first. 

Grouping the four of them -and sometimes other Maze kids, too- had really seemed to help. These were people they all felt comfortable around, and watching one another slowly recover aided their own recoveries. 

Treating them like actual human beings seemed to be the kicker. Apparently lots of the old orderlies hadn't done that. Treated them like burdens, or like little kids. 

Thomas didn't do any of that bullshit. They'd been through a lot, sure. But that made them the exact opposite of little kids. 

And there was Sonya. Now that she wasn't always around, Newt had a lot of trouble processing her death in a healthy way. so Thomas had rounded up him, Harriet, and Rachel, and now they all got together at least once a week to talk about her. 

They were all getting better really fast. 

Which was great. Everyone was happy. Keisha was happy. The patients were happy. Ben and Brenda were happy. 

Janson wasn't, though. In fact, he seemed to be constantly on Thomas's ass, trying to find something, anything, to use against him. Trying to find a reason to fire him. 

Which, really, was just as well, since Thomas was doing the same thing to Janson. They were going to find a way to out him as a WICKED employee. Find a way to unveil everything he was doing to get the Maze kids back. 

Things were going to be okay. How could they not be, when everything was finally starting to look up?

"Janson's got his eye on Tom," Teresa says quietly. Thomas had decided to take a big step today, and wasn't even in the room with them. Newt was pretty sure he was with Alby, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up.

Newt frowns pointedly. Bringing up Ratman was always a surefire way to dampen the mood, but this seemed a lot more grave than usual.

"What do you mean?" He asks.

Teresa just shrugs. "He's always got that old lady watching him. The one we don't like. He's onto him. He's trying to find a reason to fire him."

"Why?" Newt can't even begin to figure it out. Well, from a logical perspective, anyway. Thomas was the reason they were all doing so much better. But that was Janson's exact reasoning, too. 

He didn't want them to get better. He needed them to get worse so he could whisk them off to WICKED when no one was looking. He could still do that, really. In the dead of night, when they were asleep.

But then there would be people looking for them. Only Janson and his goons were allowed in the intensive unit. No one would ask questions if they up and vanished from there.

"You know why," Teresa says. And he does. 

"What do we do, then?" Newt prompts. There has to be something they can do. Some way they can prove Janson's not who he says he is. 

Teresa frowns. "I have a little bit of a plan," she confesses. "But it's kinda dangerous. It'll take a lot of sacrifice. From you, specifically. And it might backfire."

"Let's hear it," Newt says.

Teresa shakes her head. "Not here," she whispers. "Too many cameras. We'll get everyone together. And we'll go out to that corner in the courtyard. Where it's dark, and the cameras can't pick up our voices."

"Right," Newt agrees. That's a good idea. He wouldn't have thought of that. He hadn't even realized there was cameras in their rooms. Had they picked up on him and Thomas? Was Thomas to get in trouble because of that?

"The cameras in our rooms don't provide visuals," Teresa says, as if reading his mind. "Especially not in this ward. Could count towards child pornography. But there's audio."

Newt nods. "Right," he says again. "Well, let's get everyone together. We need to come up with some sort of idea."

"Right," Teresa says very loudly. "For the therapy question."

"Yes," Newt says loudly. "The therapy question. They wanted our suggestions, but I haven't got any yet."

"We'll come up with one," Teresa says especially loudly as she opens the door. 

She takes Newt by the hand and leads him up the hall, ignoring the weird look Thomas shoots them. He knows they'll be alright. He doesn't follow. Which is good, because Thomas could lose his job if they wrap him up in this. 

She doesn't let his hand go as they continue walking. Newt's secretly glad for this, because, while he doesn't hallucinate anymore, his delirium still gets him pretty confused when he's by himself. He might've gotten lost.

Ten minutes later, the ten of them are sitting in a circle in the corner of the courtyard, where not a single camera will pick up their visual nor their audio. Which is just what they need.

"Janson's onto us," Teresa says. "He's trying to get Thomas fired because he's good at helping us. We need to stop that from happening, because otherwise, we'll be shipped back to WICKED."

None of them seem to appreciate how blunt she's being. But it's necessary. They won't have a lot of time before one of their orderlies come over here and break them up. 

"How are we meant to stop him?" Aris asks. "We're just patients, and he owns this place."

"We could kill him," Gally says. The look on his face tells Newt that he's not kidding.

Rachel sighs. "Let's not kill him," she says. "I hate him just as much as you all do, but that's not what Sonya would want us to do."

Harriet and Newt both nod in agreement. He'd been the one to kill her. Sonya. Lizzy. Newt had never actually told anyone that. Not even Thomas. It was the reason he hated Janson so much. More than most.

"He killed her," Minho points out. "I think she'd be totally cool if we killed him back."

Harriet shakes her head. "That was never Sonny's line of thinking," she says. "If we killed him, that'd make us just as bad. And some of us could end up in jail. We'd just be trading one prison for another."

"If we can prove he's working with WICKED, then we can get him arrested," Frypan says. "And we won't have to worry about him."

Alby nods his agreement. Gally argues that they wouldn't have to worry about him if he was dead, either, but Chuck says that his therapist said murder was wrong. 

"Janson visits our ward every Friday night," Teresa says. "And we all know he's got a serious thing for Newt."

"He does?" Newt asks. He hadn't known that. 

"He does," Alby says, nodding grimly. Okay, so maybe everyone but him had been aware of that. 

Teresa sighs. "We can use that to our advantage," she explains. "Set him up. Have Newt corner him in the lobby, play into the bastard's fantasy a little, and get him to confess to being on WICKED's team."

"Your plan has some flaws," Rachel points out. Newt nods, hoping they can come up with something else. He doesn't want to be the bait. Especially not if Janson's in love with him. He could never play into a fantasy like that with the man that killed his little sister.

Teresa shrugs. "That's 'cause I'm not finished yet," she says. "We'll need to find a camera somewhere. One of those little hidden ones. We can get the orderlies to help us. Keisha, maybe. Or Brenda. Her uncle, Jorge... I'm sure he's got a couple he could lend us."

"So we catch it on camera," Aris finishes. "That's clever!"

Minho shakes his head, still unconvinced. "It's still got a flaw," he says. "A major one." They all look at him for his input. "Newt would have to be on his own."

They all know what he means by that. Newt will get disoriented, confused. He might even forget what he's meant to be doing. Or where he is. 

"He's getting better, though," Harriet adds. "Maybe he'll be alright for the ten minutes this will take." 

"And we can step in if Janson tries to take it too far," Alby offers. "So we'll be nearby in case it goes wrong. Maybe we'll have it so we're still in Newt's line of sight, so we can remind him if he gets disoriented."

Newt nods. As much as he hates having to seduce his sister's killer, it's the best bet. This is a good plan. And it might be their only chance before Thomas gets fired, or one of them gets shipped off. 

"I think we can do it," Newt says. "I mean... it's not like I'll really be alone. I get confused about time and location, but not about what I'm doing there. It'll be alright."

Rachel looks at him, a little worried. "Are you sure?" She asks.

"I'm sure." He nods. "We need to stop Ratman. This is how we do that."

Teresa nods at him. "Alright, then. Let's plan what the rest of us need to do."

They were thorough in their planning. Teresa was going to be closer than the rest of them. If things went wrong, she'd step in. Say she wanted to help WICKED again, that this was the first time she was in a good enough mindset to set her priorities straight. 

Gally and Minho were going to keep all the orderlies at bay. Fight them, or even each other, if it was necessary. No one could step in while they were doing this, or it would all be for nothing. They might even get shipped off to the intensive unit if it failed. They all knew what that meant. 

Rachel and Harriet, having made so much progress, were allowed outside of the hospital, so long as they were with an orderly. They'd ask Keisha or Thomas to accompany them. They'd then block the doorways to the facility to keep anyone from entering that way. 

Alby and Aris were going to stay in the room adjacent the lobby, just in Newt's line of sight to remind him of the plan in case his delirium acted up. They, along with Newt, had been studying sign language in case they needed to silently communicate. 

Chuck and Frypan were going to be monitoring the camera footage, to make sure it was picking up everything they needed it to. They'd set up the camera in advance to test the angle, but there was the possibility that it wouldn't pick up their voices, or the footage might try to glitch. 

If they were being too quiet, Fry and Chuck would send a signal to Alby and Aris, who would quickly sign to Newt or Teresa, and get them to talk louder, get Janson to talk louder.

It wasn't the most foolproof plan in the world, but it was all they had. So it was going to work. It had to. It was their only hope. 

Thomas had gotten good at taking his shoes off properly. Teresa commended his efforts. But that wasn't why she'd asked him to come in. She needed to ask him a serious favor.

She'd have liked to ask Keisha, or even Ben or Brenda, but she knew they weren't the right people to go to. Keisha wouldn't understand to the right extent. Ben and Brenda wouldn't understand at all.

Newt had outright asked her not to drag Thomas into this. He didn't want him to lose his job, or get in any kind of trouble. The last thing they needed was to have WICKED going after him, too. 

And, of course, Newt didn't want his boyfriend in harm's way. (They continued to deny a proper relationship, but Teresa knew better. They were just hiding it because it was against the rules.) 

But he was the only one that would really understand. Jorge would have exactly what they needed, but Brenda wouldn't get it for them. But she liked Thomas, so she'd get it for him. 

That was another reason Teresa hadn’t mentioned this subplan of hers to Newt. He didn't need to know about Brenda's constant flirting with Thomas. He'd just get upset. 

"Is everything okay?" Thomas asks, noting the grave and set expression she was wearing.

Teresa drops her voice to a very quiet whisper. "I need you to talk to Brenda for me," she says. "Her uncle has these full-scale, high-tech hidden cameras. I need one. She won't get one for me, but she'll get one for you."

"Why do you need one?" Thomas asks. He's speaking in a regular tone, but he makes an addition to the statement when he sees Teresa's wide eyes. "What use could you possibly have for a fermented pineapple?"

Teresa mouths 'really' at him, but continues when he shrugs apologetically. "We're busting Janson," she whispers. It's barely coherent, which is just what she needed. "Friday night. We'll need you then, too. But just to go outside with Harriet and Rachel. They're allowed off property, if they're with an orderly. Guard the doors."

Thomas looks confused, but he nods, promises he'll get Teresa what she asked for. Loudly questioning the popularity of fermented pineapples as he leaves. Teresa is confident that he'll manage. 

So long as Newt doesn't find out that she's using his boyfriend after all. He gets so worried about him, and Teresa doesn't want to dump this on him, too. 

It was just what needed to be done. 

"Hey, Brenda," Thomas says, sitting down next to her in the break room. She straightens up instantly, brushing out her hair with her fingers.

Thomas still didn't understand what they were doing, exactly. Why they needed the camera, how they were planning on busting Janson. But it seemed like it was well planned, and Thomas wasn't going to get in their way. 

"What can I do for ya, Thomas?" She asks. She's skimming through patient files. Looks like Harriet's getting released in a couple weeks. That's good news. She might not if this plan of theirs fails, though.

Thomas sighs, silently thankful that they're the only ones in the break room at the moment. 

"I heard your uncle has a few of those high-tech hidden cameras," Thomas says. Brenda hesitates, but nods. "I was wondering if you could get him to send me one. I think.." he sighs for dramatic effect. He'd thought up a cover story, just so their secret doesn't get out. "I think my girlfriend's cheating on me, so.."

Brenda's face contorts with sympathy. He didn't like lying to her like this, considering she'd always been so kind to him, but Teresa had needed him to do this, and it was his job to help her.

"Of course," Brenda says softly. "I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

"Thank you so much," he says. "I really appreciate it."

Brenda smiles sadly. "Of course," she says. "I didn't even know you had a girlfriend. What's her name?"

"Ne- Noelle," Thomas says quickly. "Noelle. Pretty blonde girl. Not from around here. Always thought she was out of my league. Guess I know why she settled for me now."

Brenda nods sympathetically. "Well, if it turns out she is cheating, I'll always be here for you."

"Thanks," Thomas says, feigning nervousness. "I really appreciate it."

"I'll drop that camera in your mailbox, so no one finds out about it," Brenda assures him. 

He smiles. "Great. Thank you again."

Brenda smiles again, too. She's got a distant look in her eyes, like she's already mapping out his girlfriend's escapades in her head. "Of course."

Thomas sits with her for a little while longer before excusing himself to go check on his patients. She seems disappointed, but waves him off quickly when he reminds her that Newt's still classified as a high risk patient.

"Noelle? Seriously?" Rachel prompts as he leaves. "Of all the fake girlfriends, you had to choose a name that sounds just like your boyfriend's?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Thomas says. "Not yet."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Sure," she says. "But he will be. Soon, right? Once he gets released? Won't be against the rules then."

"Of course," Thomas says quickly. He's been planning the way he'll ask Newt to formally be his boyfriend for a few weeks now. Seems a little more necessary, the more and more he recovers. Keisha has pleasantly announced that he'll be officially getting released the same day as Teresa- in about six months. 

"Did you get that camera?" Rachel asks. 

Thomas nods. "What camera?" He asks, still nodding. Rachel catches on and winks, apologizing loudly.

"Thanks for helping," she says. "This is really important to all of us, but me, Harriet, and Newt especially. It's sort of like our revenge."

"Revenge?" Thomas asks. Why was getting back at Janson revenge specially for the three of them? Hadn't he hurt them all equally?

Rachel's brow furrows as she leans forward a little bit. "He didn't tell you?" She asks. He shakes his head, since he has no idea what she's talking about. "Janson's the one that killed her." She pauses. "Sonya."

Suddenly, a lot seems to click into place. 

Dissociative amnesia was great until you started remembering. Remembering your life before. It started with flashes of memories. Him and Lizzy as little kids, watching snow fall. Then WICKED came. The abduction. The killing. The blood and the screams overrode the good memory. 

Newt suddenly didn't like snow anymore. 

And then there was his time in the compound before the Maze. Before they made him forget with those chips they put in their brains. Those chips that everyone kept trying to assure them never existed. 

Janson was always around him. Always had a hand on his back or his shoulder. Maybe now he understood why the others thought Janson was into him. But he'd only been a little kid back then. 

He shudders. Gross. 

"Were you going to tell me Ratman was the one that killed her?" Thomas asks, opening the door without knocking. That was a first. 

Newt looks up, surprised at the invasion of privacy. Thomas had never done this before. Was he... really that upset that he didn't tell him? He hadn't thought that it was such a big deal. 

"I don't like to think about it," Newt says honestly. Bringing up Lizzy was always a difficult subject. Talking about her with Harriet and Rachel was one thing, because they knew her well. They understood.

But Thomas... Thomas didn't know her. He just knew that Newt used to hallucinate her after she died. It was hard to talk to her about someone who didn't know her.

"And, really, I thought that you'd be more worried about the fact that he's in love with me," Newt says blankly, wanting to change the subject. 

Thomas frowns pointedly. "What do you mean?" He asks. "In love with you?"

"I've been getting some memories back," Newt confesses. "Old ones. He was always into me... even when I was a little kid."

Thomas pretty much scowls. He sits down next to him on the bed, wrapping a hand around his waist. "Do you think he's gonna... try anything?" He asks, genuinely concerned for the blond's safety. 

Newt smirks. "Oh, I'm counting on it," he says. 

"What d'you mean?" Thomas asks, pulling away a little bit. He looks a little bit more than concerned now. "Is this about what Teresa wanted-"

"What do you mean, what Teresa wanted?" Newt interrupts. "She didn't ask you to get that... the thing from Brenda, did she?"

Thomas tilts his head to the side a little bit, confused. "She.. she asked me to get the thing from Brenda, but she said that you were all in on the plan. You just needed me to ask her."

"I told them not to get you involved," Newt says softly. He looks like he's about to start crying. He cries when he's mad. That's something Thomas has discovered during their time together. "I didn't wanna make you a target."

Thomas just shrugs. "I'm already a target, baby. Let me help."

Newt doesn't look convinced. He lets Thomas pull him into an embrace, tucking his head into the crook of the older man's neck and wrapping his arms around his ribcage. 

"I don't want you to get hurt," Newt whispers.

Thomas kisses him hard on the mouth. "The feeling's mutual, then," he murmurs against the blond's lips. 

Newt kisses him again, purely because he doesn't know how to respond. Thomas doesn't complain, his free hand coming to rest on the back of his head, pulling him closer. 

"You're not... mad at me, are you?" Newt asks, pulling away. "For not telling you about Lizzy?"

Thomas shakes his head. "Of course not," he says. "I was just.. worried. I thought that something was wrong, maybe. Like it was causing you more strife that you were trying to hide from me."

"No, it's just hard talking about her to people who didn't know her," Newt says quietly. "And be careful, okay? Don't get yourself into any unnecessary trouble, slinthead."

Thomas smiles in response. He used to get confused when they'd use Glader slang around him, but he'd adjusted to it by now. It doesn't even faze him anymore. 

"I won't," he says. "Promise." 

Newt kisses him again, laying back and taking Thomas with him. Thomas hovers over top of him, knees on either sides of his hips. 

"I like where this is going," Thomas says teasingly. "Think you can stay quiet enough for the camera?"

Newt tilts his head to the side, gasping as the brunet starts kissing down his neck. "No promises."

The camera worked perfectly. Not that Newt had suspected otherwise. Teresa's plans always worked. But now that it was go time, and Janson had just finished making his nightly rounds, he felt a sudden splurge of anxiety. 

He tries not to let it get the better of him. They need to do this. They need to bust him before he can hurt anyone else. Before Thomas can lose his job, or Janson can ship them back to WICKED. 

The lobby's totally empty. Except for Janson. And him.

"Newton Isaacs, was it?" Janson looks up at him. "I hear you've been recovering well."

"There aren't any cameras in here," Newt says. "No one's in earshot. You can cut the shit."

Janson's nonchalant expression contorts into a knowing one. He smirks. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you came running back to me, Newt."

"Do.. do you still love me?" Newt asks. He's trying to feign innocence. Anticipation and anxiousness. "The way you used to?"

It takes a lot of impulse control to keep from gagging. Luckily, though, he's never developed anything that diminishes his self control. 

Janson takes a step closer, putting his hands on his hips. "I feared you'd never remember the fun we used to have," he says, his smirk getting even bigger. "Was such a shame they put you in the Maze so soon."

Newt doesn't respond. He stands there, letting the older man grope him. He looks around the room, catches Alby's eye, stares back at Janson. Grounds himself. This was no time to get confused. 

"You have no idea how much I've missed this ass," Janson continues, handing dropping down to the blond's ass. He's speaking very loudly. Guess he didn't care who heard who heard him once the facility went to sleep. 

Newt sighs. He lets Janson think it's filled with lust, when it more disgust than anything else. 

"I haven't remembered for very long," Newt says honestly. "Just started getting my memories back about a week ago."

"Well, better late than never," Janson says, kissing his neck. 

Newt pulls away a little bit. He needs to get more information out of him, or this will all be for nothing. "Are you really planning on sending us back there?"

"They need to find a cure," Janson says, disappointed in the abrupt intervention. "WICKED is good, whether or not you like it."

"I'll be out of your reach," Newt says, keeping his tone sultry, "if you send me back. They'll be testing me all the time. Won't have any for you."

Janson quirks an eyebrow. "Like you really give a damn about me, Isaacs," he says, gripping his wrist tightly.

Newt tries to pull away, to no avail. His eyes widen in panic. This wasn't going well. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

"I don't understand," Newt says, trying to keep the tremble of fear out of his voice. "Don't you want me?"

"Of course I do," Janson says coldly. "But you don't want me." 

Newt again tries to yank out of the man's grip, but he's still too strong. Newt hasn't been working out, not like he had back in the Maze; he's not as strong as he used to be. 

"Oh, don't play dumb," Janson snaps. "Falling for your orderly? Seducing him, like the little whore you are?"

Newt bites his lip. "I don't know.."

"What I'm talking about?" Janson finishes. "Really? Who do you think checks the audio footage at the end of the day, Blondie? Me. I've heard everything that goes on in your room. Your little gasps and moans were music to my ears, 'till I figured out who was causing them."

Newt tries not to let his fear show. There's still an opportunity to stop this. To save their plan. Right? There has to be something he can do. 

"That's just a fling," Newt says quietly. "You've got no idea how lonely it gets in here. But maybe now you can keep me company instead..?"

Janson just scoffs. He isn't buying it. Newt wouldn't, either, if he had all the proof Janson had over him.

"It's against the rules to have.. involvements with patients," Janson says slyly. "I'll have your precious little Tommy gone by tomorrow morning."

Newt stares at him blankly. "Your hand's on my ass right now, and you have the nerve to talk about involvements?"

"What the hell are you doing!?" 

They both wheel around. Teresa. Thank god. They were launching the back up plan. This one had gone to shit a while ago. 

"Stop trying to take them down," Teresa says sternly. She's a good actor. Newt had forgotten about that. "WICKED's doing what's best. They were on the verge of finding the cure before we got taken."

Newt frowns. Jesus, she was good at this. "Teresa, have you forgotten what they did to the others? Nick? Zart?"

"It was a necessary evil," Teresa protests. "Janson, release me early." The man looks at her, taken aback. "I have an idea. For the cure. It's been weighing on my mind since I was admitted in here."

Janson quirks an eyebrow. "Really? Have you been testing it? Is that how Newt's still sane?"

"Yes," Teresa says. "He'd be past the Gone right now, if it weren't for me." She puts a hand on Newt's shoulder to ground him, knowing from the look in his eyes that he's starting to space out. 

Janson nods, impressed. "Well, whatever you've concocted has clearly done the trick. I might have to, assuming you'll join me back at base?"

"Of course," Teresa says instantly.

"Obviously, that means you will be employed. The WICKED training isn't easy," Janson explains.

"Must be easier than the Trials," Teresa says. 

Janson smiles. He opens his mouth to continue, but Newt, having gotten the go ahead from Teresa, jerked his elbow back into the man's stomach, elbowing him hard. Teresa springs into action, pinning Janson's hands behind his back. 

"I forgot to mention," Newt says, "there is a camera in here. Audio and visual. The feed's playing right back to Fry's laptop. Cops are gonna love this, Ratman."

Janson's face falls.

It's been a year. All the Maze kids were released on schedule, not a single one of them being held back or placed in the intensive unit. 

Janson was not only fired, but arrested by the FBI. Keisha became the new head of Glade. Unfortunately, though, she'd had no choice but to fire Thomas, given the fact that Janson, and Newt in all technicality, had admitted to Thomas's fraternizing with a patient. 

But it had ended up alright. Thomas technically hadn't been qualified to be an orderly anyway, and Keisha had rehired him as a resident pharmacist a couple days later. 

They were happy now, too. Like they'd planned, all the Maze kids bought houses on the same street, and got together almost daily. They weren't the same as they used to be, but they were doing a little bit better.

And they owed all of that to Thomas. Thomas, who, six months ago, upon Newt's release from Glade, had moved in with him. Thomas who, just one week ago, had got down on one knee and proposed to him. Thomas who, as of September seventh, was his fiance.

Newt smiles, looking at the brunet that was fast asleep in bed beside him, hugging him tightly. 

"I guess happily ever afters are real, after all," he whispers. 

Things weren't quite okay, but they were a lot better than they could be. Than Newt had expected them to be. 

And he was with Thomas. He felt like he could do pretty much anything, so long as Thomas was by his side.

That's what had gotten him this far, wasn't it?