TMR - Thomas x X-reader fanfiction

Chapter Fifteen

~ Two Weeks Later ~

Y/N's POV

"I found a fresh stash of food," Newt announced as he walked into the room, his arms overflowing with bags. He dropped them onto the table with a heavy thud before handing them out to each of us.

"I'm not quite sure you can call this food," Chuck muttered, poking at the contents of his bag with a sceptical look.

"Just eat it," Newt huffed, ruffling Chuck's hair playfully.

Chuck groaned, pulling away, but I saw the hint of a smile tug at his lips.

I chuckled, watching them. Even in a situation like this—trapped, lost, running for our lives—Newt still found ways to keep things light.

"How's the wound, Y/N?" Chuck asked, suddenly more serious. "Does it still hurt?"

"A little," I admitted, "but it's almost healed now."

Thomas' hand found mine, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over my skin. I looked up at him, smiling softly before resting my head against his shoulder.

"Yes, luckily," he murmured, his voice quieter now.

He rested his head on top of mine, and for a moment, everything felt okay.

For a brief moment, things felt... normal. Safe, even. But the illusion didn't last.

The others returned within the hour; their faces grim.

From the looks of it, they hadn't found anything useful.

And worse—they were starting to lose hope.

Minho dropped down onto the bench beside me, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

"So, anyway," he exhaled, pulling out the map they'd been working on. "We've searched and mapped most of the sectors nearby, but this place?" He gestured around us. "It doesn't make sense. It's not like the rest of the maze."

"What do you mean?" Thomas frowned.

Minho shook his head. "The maze shifts. That's normal. But this sector—it feels off. The walls here don't just shift, they vanish and reappear somewhere else entirely." He tapped his fingers against the map. "We find a path one day, and the next, it's like it never existed."

Newt leaned forward. "That doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, well, none of this makes sense," Minho snapped, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's what's happening."

The air in the room felt heavier.

If Minho was frustrated, it meant we were in trouble.

"Wait." Jeff furrowed his brow. "You're saying there's no way out?"

Minho hesitated.

"We did find something," he admitted. "There's a locked door. Some kind of exit, but it needs a code. No markings—just a slot for some kind of keypad."

Thomas sat up straighter. "A keypad?"

"Yeah," Minho muttered. "But it's useless if we don't have the code to go with it."

For some reason, my chest tightened. A strange sensation spread through me, like something at the edge of my mind was trying to claw its way to the surface. The others started discussing different possibilities, their voices blending together, fading into the background. A dull ache spread through my body, seeping into my bones. I lost all sense of time.