Exposed

➰1➰

Stiles was laying in bed, thinking about his Newtie, while he tossed a soft ball in the air.

He caught it in his hand, staring up at the ceiling,

"I miss you Newtie," his mind flashed to seeing him laying motionless on the ground but he dismissed it with a shake of his head and thought about all the happier times that came before, and after, that.

"I wish I never came back. I wish you could come back to me, back with me. I need you."

A single tear trickled down his cheek.

He didn't bother to wipe it, knowing it would only be replaced by more.

This all started a very long month ago.

He had awoken from a nightmare. It was of nothing in particular, just life, the everyday fear of whether he would be killed by some supernatural creature.

He had been too restless to go back to sleep and had decided, stupidly, to take a walk in the woods.

Because nothing bad ever happens in the woods at night. Note sarcasm.

He had ended up at the Nemeton, somehow. There had been a ripple in the air above it and he, being a curious little shit, had decided to touch it.

He had been sucked into it, the air distorting the world and being sucked from his lungs, as he was transported away.

That was how he'd been born as Thomas and all the things leading up to being in The Maze had began.

He couldn't say that he regretted it. Touching that dimensional rift had lead him to his Newtie.

The Maze, The Scorch and The Last City. Through all that, Newt was always there and it hadn't taken long for them to develop an attraction. Literally. They had kissed by the bonfire on his first day in the glade.

He had told Newt about his life as Stiles Stilinski, about everything that had happened to him and how he'd gotten there. His memories of his first life had all returned with the serum, just his memories as Thomas were mostly blocked.

Newt had been interested, obviously, keeping it to himself and supporting him unconditionally.

He had died for a short time in WCKD's city, but Thomas had refused to give up on him and had carried his body to the WCKD compound.

Ava had helped him to save Newt, giving him a transfusion of Thomas' blood to save his life and, unknowingly, cure him of the flare.

They had needed to defibrillate him to restart his heart and, honestly, he had never been so scared as in those long few seconds while he waited for the heart monitor to pick up a pulse.

Ava had stitched and bandaged him up, just before Janson had arrived and killed her, shooting her in the heart.

He had taken Thomas to Teresa, who had produced a small amount of the cure from his blood. She had then turned on Janson, smashing his head with a glass jug and releasing him from his binds.

After dealing with Janson and the following fight, leading up to the building being shot, Thomas had wanted to head back to Newt, only for the stairs and lift to be engulfed in flames.

Teresa had taken him to the roof, where he'd managed to get onto the plane, with the help of Minho and Brenda, but had not been so lucky herself.

They thought he cried at losing her, and perhaps he did shed a tear or two, but he was sobbing for the unconscious boy beneath the building. The one he had tried so desperately to save.

They had reached the safe haven and got settled and healed, but he couldn't deal with losing Newt so, when he saw the rift in the air again, he hadn't hesitated to touch it and be taken home.

Only, he wasn't taken home.

He was taken to another life, where he took up the name Dylan, becoming a famous actor and model.

The highlight of that life definitely had to be when he met Newt again.

He had flown in for an audition for a film and had bumped into him at the airport.

They had been shocked and tentative to say anything, but had snapped back to what was happening where they were shoved together by the crowds.

They hadn't been able to believe it and had gone straight to Dylan's hotel, where they caught up and he had discovered that Newt was now called Thomas(ironic much?)- having awoken just before the WCKD building went down and touched a weird shimmering light.

They had become inseparable and, though there were tough times, had eventually overcome all of the obstacles to get married and move in together. To start a life together.

Everything was going so well, and then a ripple of light had appeared and he'd been pulled away from the love of his life, literally pulled. They were face to face, both eyes wide when they saw the light, only able to profess their love quickly before he disappeared into the ether.

That had lead him to becoming Mitch Rapp, a CIA assassin. His best friend, Katrina Harper, had been killed by terrorists while they were on holiday and he had gone a bit mad(homicidal). Not able to deal with the loss, after everything that he went through with Newt.

He had been on a mission, having worked for the CIA for 7 years, he'd just killed the target, when he was pulled back to his first life, only to discover that just a month had passed.

He had lived three lives and only been missing for one month in his original one.

It was a real mind fuck. And all he could think about was Newt and how they should be together right now, but they weren't.

His eyes caught something in his ceiling, a crack, small and barely noticeable to the untrained eye. But he had lived as Mitch Rapp; it was his job to notice these things.

He sat up and looked at it closely, watching as it spread across the plaster, like cracks in a porelain vase.

A soft orange-gold glow started in the the epicentre of the spiderwed fractures and his eyes widened. This wasnt the same as before, this was something else. He felt a warmth and a pressure building up in his chest and rubbed at it tenderly.

"What the-" the light increased and the room fell away from his vision.

"Tommy?"

His eyes snaped open.