~|Charge|~ Thomas

Chapter 17: Tommy Needs a Sandwich

That night, Linnea did not have the same dreams of the boy, who she was almost one hundred percent convinced was Thomas, the Greenie, instead, she had dreams about what her life was like before the maze. There was a lot of pain. A lot. 

The words that mirrored themselves in her mind the most, though, were a woman saying three words over and over again. "Wicked is good." She heard other things too. Whispers in her ear of someone telling her that he loved her. A voice that sounded to be a younger Thomas. Yelling. People calling her name. Linnea's own screaming. 

She saw people from beyond screens, the blood on her own hands. Visions blurred around her. That blue liquid that came cascading down on top of her, drowning her somehow. "Everything's going to change." Another few words that repeated themselves. A different woman. A girl, almost, said those words. Who were these people, and what had they done to her?

The last thing the girl saw before she gave away from her sleep, was the doors shutting on her, just like they had all those years ago, and the screeching sound of the Grievers echoing from in the maze, with her in it.

Breathing out, Linnea looked to the floor, where Chuck had been the night before, there was now a messy haired Minho, who was supposed to be up in a couple of minutes to go out in the maze and run. Her head hurt. Probably way too much alcohol the night before. Nope. Way too much. 

Looking outside, Linnea could see that it was almost sun-up and she would have to do her job with the Greenie. Have him make his mark. Quickly, and quietly, she got up, making sure that she didn't step on Minho in the process, and went out to go venture towards where the Greenie was.

When she got there, the brown-eyed girl took a moment to stare at him. Thomas, in his tired, sleepy state was completely adorable. His brown bangs lowered over his forehead, his arm draped across his chest. Something about him, though, made her want him so bad. Something about him, made him seem so freaking familiar that she couldn't even describe it. Something about him. Him. That was it. Him.

"Thomas," she whispered, a little too loud, causing her head to ache a bit once again. He gasped out, almost ready to yell, but Linnea covered his mouth with her hand. "Shh," she put her finger to her mouth. "You trying to wake up the whole glade?" Taking her hand off of his mouth while Thomas stared at the girl in confusion, but silence, the brunette backed up, telling him, "Follow me." He still stayed there for a moment after she walked away so she looked back at him, her eyes darting into his, "Quickly!"

In one motion, Thomas swayed his feet out of the hammock, pulling his boots on, and swiftly caught up to the girl. Linnea smiled at him and he returned it, but as she looked away, he kept watching her. Admiring the rising sun as it hit her pale skin, Thomas thought about the dream he had that night, which neither of them knew it, but they were identical to each other. The same dream.

"It's peaceful, isn't it," Linnea started, staring off into the rising sun. "I know it's hard to believe, but it wasn't always this way." Thomas looked down to the dirty knife that she had in her hand. "We had dark days." the memories of those dark days lingered in her brain. She would never want to forget them, though. If she forgot them, she might forget all of the amazing memories that she had before that. "We lost a lot of boys to fear. To panic. Some we lost because they saved others. One saved my life. . . " she looked down at her wristband that was around her wrist. It had been George's. "We've come far since then. Established order. . . made peace."

"Yeah," Thomas looked deep into her dark eyes, his whiskey colored ones almost getting lost in them. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're not like the others." Her tone in her eyes shifted a bit. "You're curious. But you are one of us now." Grabbing his hand, Linnea set the knife she came up with in his palm. "You need to know what that means.

She pointed towards the wall. The wall of names. The wall of gladers. The amount that were crossed off abnormally large. Thomas slowly walked over to the wall, and stared at it, looking through the names, the ones that were crossed off, the ones that looked fairly new, the ones that looked old. All of them. "What happened to them?" he asked, pointing to one of the names that was crossed off. One in particular. Nick's.

"Like I said. . ." Linnea said. "Dark days, Tommy " Tommy? Why did that sound so natural coming out of her mouth?

Carefully walking up to the wall,  he placed his knife on the wall, right next to where Linnea's name was, and carefully carved his own into it. Thomas. He was a glader.

"So that's it then?" Thomas asked the brunette standing behind him. "Now I'm one of you?"

"Yep," Linnea nodded, holding a hand up to her head, for it still hurt a large amount from her hangover, her head feeling like it was spinning. "You're a glader, Tommy."

"Tommy?" he repeated, the words sounding so familiar coming out of her mouth. Like she had said it before. A million times before. When she asked what, he responded, trying to make it sound very nonchalant, but honestly, he wasn't too good at it. "Sorry, it just sounds so. . . familiar, you know?"

Something inside her made Linnea's heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact that he might remember her too, or maybe it was something else. It could have been just him in general. To Linnea, that was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Him. That was it. Thomas. Tommy. "Yeah, I guess so," she said. Even with all of those feelings, something inside her told her not to tell him yet, that it wasn't time yet, that the time would come.

Sometime. The time she told him would come.

Thomas smiled at her a bit, looking down and stumbling out a little laugh. "I don't know. I guess. . . "

"I think we need a sandwich," Linnea cut him off, the glade had already started filling up with gladers, the Runners already starting to leave, the day starting. Grabbing his hand, Linnea started to run off towards where Frypan stood, handing out food.

'Not yet,' She told herself. Soon she would tell him. But not yet.

Author's Note:

Was this good? I don't know. I kind of liked it. They are like really connected now. They are having the same dreams! When do you think Linnea will tell him? If she even does. I'm actually starting to like love writing this book. It is really fun and I love writing for Linnea. I am super excited, though, once I get finished with this book, to start writing my next book in the Linnea McCall X Stiles Stilinski series. I'm not going to give away the title yet, but the book is starting to get a lot more reads! Thank you so much for that! Also, by the end of the week, do you think we can get this book to over one-hundred reads? It would be amazing if we could. Thank You!

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