The Deadliest Generation: The Maze Of Monsters

Six Words and an Idea

If Newt could describe Thomas to you, really describe him with no personal boundaries , he'd tell you the younger boy was reckless, impulsive, insane and constantly had an endless drive to do something. 

He'd tell you he was a caring and likeable person, fit to be a leader. 

He'd tell you that Thomas had the strangest way with words. 

He'd tell you that he felt a pull toward Thomas ever since he'd arrived in the Glade, and an immense need to protect him ever since he had woken up to a frantic Thomas practically on top of him in the Homestead after Newt himself was knocked out. 

He'd tell you most of all that Thomas was one of the best people he'd ever met.

But that was with no personal boundaries, so when Teresa asked him what he thought about Thomas when Minho and Thomas had left, he kind of gaped at her.

"What?" Teresa asked, a hint of laughter in her eyes and a smile on her face, "It was just a question, why are you staring at me like I just asked you the most embarrassing question ever."

Newt promptly shut his mouth, and pondered for a little while before responding. "I think he's great, he's very caring, but he can also be incredibly stupid." He blinked before questioning, "Why'd you ask?" 

Teresa's eyes sparkled and she smiled a little wider. "He seems to like you."

Newt regarded her a little suspiciously, (because this was a little bit weird, and yes, he did like Thomas, and had no idea why, or what he really felt toward the boy, but she seemed to know this,) then shrugged. "I guess he does. I'm a nice guy."

Teresa laughed a little at that and leaned forward more while Newt was still chopping up more wax paper and said, "Maybe you are. Or maybe he just has a thing for... guys like you."

She hums a little and continues to calmly slice wax paper into squares, unaware of the fact that Newt has frozen, eyes a little too wide, hands unmoving.

Was she saying...?

Did she mean...?

Newt had to question this.

"What do you mean, 'a thing'?" Newt asks as soon as he gets a hold on himself.

Teresa pauses as well, her smile transforming into a slightly sinister smirk. "You'll see."

(Author's Note: Yeah... about that...)

Teresa then went quiet, confusion furrowing her brow, her expression similar to Thomas's just before he'd had the freak out that knocked him unconscious, along with his expression on a few other occasions. Maybe it was because they were siblings, Newt thought to himself, that explained it.

To Newt though, they didn't seem too similar, because although Thomas was open, friendly and painfully clueless, Teresa, who should have some similarities to him, seemed closed off, sticking mainly to Thomas, and although what she said was open and available for friendship, that didn't seem to be her intentions, and she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, every move thought out and calculated.

Maybe they weren't too similar after all.

Newt shrugged off his thoughts for now, and continued his work.

He was dreading nightfall, and was debating whether or not he would live to see morning.

¬¬¬

The night came and went, and Newt was deeply shaken from the events, but knew that he had to stay calm.

He milled around the Glade, comforting Gladers and helping some of them with their wounds from the attack, having not much to do other than feel despondent and hopeless while assisting others with their jobs, until he saw both Minho and Thomas run through the West Doors.