centre | newtmas au

32

Thomas

He was unsure if he was alive or dead. He fell in and out of consciousness, one moment he could feel his heart beating, and the rising and falling of his chest as he took quick and shallow breaths, and another, as if he was in a deep, restful sleep. For fleeting moments, when he woke up and his mind was most alert, images of his life flashed before him, of his own face, and of the faces of others he didn't know. A girl was among them, with black wavy hair, blue eyes and pale skin. She stood out to him, she pulled at him in his mind. She was significant, but in what way, he had no idea.

Newt appeared sometimes. But it was at an unfamiliar angle, where Thomas was looking and what could be some kind of screen. It was like a birds eye view.

These images were of his life before the maze, that was something he was certain of. He had tried to piece together what he was seeing, to get a sense of the bigger picture, but all he got were disconnected moments that had no meaning.

He thought that he was stuck like this forever, fragments of his life appearing on a cycle, in a loop that he was unable to escape from. Or maybe this was just one of the stages of death, he thought to himself as he saw another picture of the girl, this time standing next to a man with sharp, rat like features. He was beginning to take in his face when a searing pain suddenly grasped him.

His entire body burned, and stung, like it was being enveloped in flames, and his head pounded and throbbed, increasing as time passed. He saw black all around him, and as hard as he tried to open his eyes, they remained tightly shut. The heat clawed at his chest and tightened around his neck, so he could barely breathe. Maybe he was on his way to death now. A part of him hoped he was, because at least then, there was a promise of relief.

But then the pain stopped, and his body jolted and he began gasping for air. The darkness that had been hanging in a cloud around his head began to shift, and he realised he was able to make out his surroundings. He was in the medical tent, in the Glade.

His awareness was brought entirely back into his body and he felt everything intensely; the humidity of the air on his skin, the prickly fabric of the stretcher he lay on, and of course, the sweet smell of Frypan's cooking drifting under the door. He forced his mouth into a smile, as if to prove it was still able, and his dry lips cracked as he did so. He winced as he felt the sting of it, but it was good to feel again.

Despite how good he felt, he slowly became aware of the gnawing hunger, and the dryness of his throat and the weight that pressed him down onto the stretcher. He managed to gather enough strength in his upper body to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. His heart already began hammering against his chest, and he had to steady himself as the room started to spin. This was as far as he could get on his own. He needed help.

'Hey' he croaked, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper.

'HEY' he said again, this time managing to produce some volume, hoping that someone who was standing outside would hear him and come to his rescue. He heard a shuffle of feet outside.

"Did you hear that?"

It was Ben.

"Hear what?"

Minho.

"I thought I heard a voice inside the med-" Ben said, barely able to finish his sentence before the door swung open and Minho fell in, snapping his head around to where Thomas sat. Minho ran towards Thomas with a smile that perfectly expressed the extent of his happiness and relief.

"Go wait for Alby" Minho said, looking back at Ben before catching Thomas by surprise and hugging him tightly, not only providing immeasurable comfort, but steadying Thomas too.

"You're one lucky shank" Minho said.

"I know" Thomas said into Minho's shoulder, feeling a host of different things all at once.

Minho pulled away from Thomas, watching as he wavered slightly, steadying himself again with his arm.

"I'm not a hugger usually, but you had us all worried" Minho said, sitting down beside Thomas and surveying the paleness and shallowness of his skin, and the cracked surface of his lips.

"Do I look like shit?" Thomas croaked, smiling.

"Just a bit" Minho replied with a laugh, "nothing some of Frypan's stew can't fix"

Thomas laughed, but heard his stomach rumble at those words.

"Say no more, I'll go get you something" Minho said, backing towards the door, "and don't try and run off this time"

Thomas nodded and slid off the stretcher onto the floor and pressed his back against it as Minho shut the door behind him, grateful to have something to lean on. He began to think about Newt, to prepare himself that as soon as Newt found out, he would be here. And he would probably be angry.

A few moments later the door swung open again, but instead of just Minho, Frypan, Jeff and Winston stumbled in, to get a glimpse of Thomas.

"Good to see you man" Frypan said, squatting down on the floor and handing him a plate with a fork and a cup of water. Thomas ate as quickly as he could without making himself sick, as the other boys watched.

"How long was I out for?" Thomas asked apprehensively between his last two mouthfuls.

"2 weeks" Jeff said, with a weak smile, "we really thought you were dead, we could hear your heartbeat and all but you didn't seem like you were waking up anytime soon. Newt was sure you would though"

"He's normally right about these kinda things" Frypan added, looking at Minho through the side of his eye.

"Where is he?" Thomas asked, trying to shift his weight to stand, but he was still too weak.

"He was in the Maze with Alby" Ben added from the back of the group. He had just come in. "They're back now, I haven't told them yet, I wanted to give Newt a second to rest"

All of the boys nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Can someone help me up?" Thomas said after no one had spoken for a minute.

"Oh yeah sure" Jeff said, followed by a nod from Winston, approaching him and lifting him up by placing an arm under his armpits. Thomas put his arms of their shoulders and clung on to them as he legs stood shakily on the ground.

"We've got you. We'll get you to Newt" Winston said.

Minho ran out ahead as they heaved Thomas through the door. He blinked fiercely against the bright sunlight, and tried to focus his eyes to look for Newt. He didn't see Newt yet, but he saw Alby.

"Is that-" Alby said, before stopping in front of Thomas.

"He woke up about half an hour ago" Minho replied, "Ben heard him call out from the med tent. He seems himself"

"What's going on?" he heard Newt say, from a few metres back. Thomas didn't dare to look, but he heard the footsteps getting closer.

"I got this" he muttered to Winston, who signalled quickly to Jeff, and they eased him out of their grasp so he was standing on his own.

"Hi" Thomas said, lifting his head to look at Newt who's eyes were filled with tears. His skin was taunt against his bones and he had dark purple eye bags hanging from beneath this eyes. He looked limp and exhausted. Thomas felt it was something to do with him.
Without saying a word, Newt came over and held Thomas tightly in his arms. Thomas felt Newt's tears on his shoulder.

"Never do that to me again, Tommy. Ever."

thank u for reading :) hope u enjoyed