The Deadliest Generation: The Maze Of Monsters

The Scars of the Past

Authors Note: I AM SO SO SORRY this is late! I was moving rooms and I went to my grandmas birthday and the days have mainly been filled. I'm really happy I moved rooms though because my old room was not very fun to live in. (It really wasn't my style and if I didn't move rooms it would've cost a lot to change it.)

Also, I watched Dune yesterday and it was one of the most confusing things I have seen in my life. I have a good idea of the plot but it was like trying to watch a dystopian film written by Stephen King while on drugs. 

Thomas had passed out. 

Newt had simply taken him to the outside sleeping area and left him to sleep, draping a blanket over him then sitting there and thinking for a while, but not watching him.

Thomas had definitely had some sort of freak out, which Newt had seen happen before, and it was worrying him immensely the second time it happened. He'd understood why the first time, as anyone would freak out over someone viciously attacking them for no reason, but the second time was odd. Newt didn't even know what had been happening.

The girl had apparently spoken to Thomas? Into his mind?

And by the looks of it, it had been terrifying. Painful, even.

But Newt felt like he knew Thomas. Really knew him. And he'd been lying when he said he thought they'd only been friends. 

Because even if they had only been friends, Newt thought he'd definitely had thoughts that were a little more than friendly feeling thoughts. 

But they didn't seem fairly over the top, he'd had feelings like this before, for Alby and for Minho. 

(Authors Note: Because c'mon we all know Newt and Alby and Newt and Minho kissed or had at least something going on.)

He knew, ever since Thomas had ran into the Maze, ever since Thomas had shown how brave and kind he was, that he would willingly follow that boy into a volcano. 

Newt looked at Thomas for a moment. Thomas looked a lot more peaceful when he slept, the worry and stress on his face having melted away, his hair tousled, a slight flush on his cheeks and dark marks under his eyes, ones he didn't have when he got here. Newt suppressed the urge to stay with him, and to lie down next to him.

When Newt finally dragged himself away from Thomas, standing up and then gently ran his fingers over the old cloth on his wrist. 

He looked from the soft, brown fabric to Thomas. 

How could two things so very different coexist in one persons life?

Newt was caught up in his wondering, and his train of thought was beginning to trespass on dark, unwelcome memories, so when he heard footsteps behind him, he turned rather thankfully to the distraction. It was River.

"Newt, hey, I-" 

He stopped short when he saw Thomas and worry flashed across his face, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just leave him to sleep, he deserves it." Newt nodded a little, then asked, "What did you need to say?"

"Oh, I uh, I had another dream, and well, you told me to tell you if I had another dream." River said rather quickly, his eyes flicking to Newt's wrapped up wrist. Newt dropped his hand from where he'd messing with the cloth, paranoia sweeping through him. Rivers eyes then flicked to his own wrists, covered in the material of a soft woollen sweater.

Newt blinked a bit, then stood up a little straighter, realising, and asked, "What was it about?"

"I saw Alec again, and we were in a forest, with a load of other kids, a boy, two girls, and two kids, one of them was a little older than all of us, and I had loads and loads of blood on me. It was all over my clothes, like they were soaked in it, as if it had been raining blood, and my skin, and my hair. And my leg, it had been ripped open, and to try and stop it, I put a knife on it, I-I used the side of the blade, and I was biting down on my arm so I wouldn't yell. I was crying, then there was lots of flashing lights and loud sounds, and I felt more blood, then... I woke up." River looked at Newt, and Newt was surprised to see how angry he was. "I wish I knew what it all meant."