Thomas arrived in the glade, confused and without his memories just like anyone else, but it was less than a week before things began to change
I also added some of my own events for a little bit of ✨spice✨
This will probably be a mixture from the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Right Arm left that day, in search of somewhere new. Their numbers had dwindled to just over half of what they once had, including the Gladers and the other girls. They walked on though, eager to find a place to call home for as long as they could. Thomas walked alongside Newt for most of the journey despite the pain in his leg and Newt's meager attempts at getting him to at least ride in one of the cars that the Right Arm had.
"There are more important people who need those cars." Thomas had told him.
"You're ridiculous." Newt always replied with an eye roll.
"And yet you still love me." Thomas winked, earning another eye roll. Despite their playful banter, there was always one thing on their minds, Minho. He'd sacrificed himself for the other's escape and every minute that they were stopped they planned his rescue. The freezing cold had lead Newt to develop a cough, one that shook his small frame every time. He was fairly sure that Thomas was unaware of his cough because he'd thought he'd hid it well, covering it with a sneeze and sometimes even with a burp or fart.
But what Newt didn't know was that he coughed into the night, chest rattling coughs that kept Thomas up. He never mentioned that he knew, he assumed the cough was from a combination of the cold and dry air since he had been acting fine otherwise. It was probably the same thing Newt did when he acted like he didn't see Thomas's face contorted with pain every time he took a step. Probably.
"Do you think we'll find a place." Thomas whispered one night under the stars. They'd piled themselves with blankets and clothing and found themselves alone by their fire.
"Yes." Newt said confidently. "We'll find a place and it'll be nothing like this freezing wasteland." He said, he'd slipped his freezing fingers under Thomas's shirt to warm them against his skin. "I hate the cold." He said with a shiver. "You're like my personal heater." He nestled his nose into Thomas's neck and rubbed his hands over Thomas's bare chest and back.
"Cmon then." Thomas said, moving so Newt could lay on top of him completely. Newt shifted, his head on Thomas's chest, his arms wrapped around his back and his chest laid on Thomas's stomach.
"Yeah, I could get used to this." He mumbled into his skin. Thomas pulled the blankets over the two of them and rubbed Newt's back absently. His mind wandered to Teresa and Minho, though mostly Teresa. How had she told WICKED where they were? Could she talk to them in their head like she did to Thomas? Then there was Minho, what would they be doing to him now? He didn't want to think about it. They were no closer to a solid rescue plan than they were when he first was taken. Instead he tried to be in the moment, enjoy the time with Newt. Who incidentally seemed to have fallen asleep.
He felt his stomach growl with hunger pains, and his head was also becoming fuzzy with pain. He continued to lay down and rub Newt's back though. Nothing was worth moving.
"Tommy." The tired rasp of Newt caught his attention. He hadn't moved at all, and if he hadn't seen his eyes flutter he would've thought he was imagining it. "Would you eat something? The sound of your stomach is driving me mad." He mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
