The Inventor

Chapter Forty Eight; "Mr. Guilty"

The room began to erupt in arguments, too loud and insistent to be quieted easily this time. They sensed this speech Thomas had given came to an end and they prayed in the silence with their own opinions. In a matter of seconds this room would become chaos and with Thomas here, it would only make it worse.

"He needs to leave," Newt stated, only to you. On some telepathic response of your own, the two of you moved forward and held Thomas by an arm, dragging him out of the meeting and outside.

You shut the door firmly, muffling the hell inside.

"Why am I being kicked out?!" Thomas said, disgruntled.

"You've said enough, clearly," Newt replied, "We have to talk without you here and make a decision! Wait by the box and I'll talk with you there."

Newt turned to walk back in but Thomas grasped his shoulder, "You have to believe me! Newt, it's the only way- the only chance- we have to get out! I swear we can do it, we're meant to!"

You took a step back from the two when Newt got in his face, seething at him in a way you had rarely seen him snap to. His voice was barely above a whisper, "I heard, I loved the part where you volunteered yourself to be a bloody sacrifice."

"I'm willing to do it," Thomas said, swallowing harshly.

"Oh yeah?" Newt hissed, "You're just Mr, Nobel, aren't you?"

"More like Mr, Guilty," You noted, "You're opting to die because you feel like it's your fault. That's what people like you do."

Newt's face softened, "Tommy?"

Thomas nodded dully, "As long as you lot don't waste it."

     "Tommy," Newt muttered, "Tommy this isn't your fault- you were a kid, they forced you to do that. You couldn't help that."

     "I just- have to redeem myself- I guess, in some way," He answered.

     Newt shook his head and took a step back, "You know what's funny to me?"

     Apprehensive, Thomas answered, "What?"

     "You don't have a single shred of lying on your eyes, and I believe you, all of it. So I want you to believe what I'm about to say,"I'm going to go in there and convince the keepers to go through the griever hole, like you said. Might as well do that then sit here and get picked off one by one," He held up a finger to silence Thomas, "But I don't want another word to come out of your mouth about sacrifice and that heroic klunk. If we go through with this, we all are- all of us. Good that?"

     A look of relief crossed Thomas's face, "Good that, I was just trying to make a point that I think it's worth the risk. If someone's going to die every night, might as well use it as an advantage."

     "And that's smart," You complimented, "But it's not going to be you. Good try though."

     Thomas nodded, beginning to walk away but Newt called out to him.

     "And Tommy?" Newt said.

     "Yeah?" Thomas answered.

     "If on some slim chance I convince those shanks- I want to go at night when those buggin grievers are scurrying around and not in their den. Yeah?"

     "Sounds good," Thomas replied, "Just convince the keepers."

     "It should be done tonight, no one else needs to die," Newt added, then turned to you and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

     "Go, talk to them," You encouraged, "Lord knows I'm not the best at that. I'll keep an eye on things out here, make sure nothing goes wack."

     Newt nodded, looking worriedly at Tommy, then back to you.

     "He'll be fine," You swatted Newts arm, "Hurry up, I can hear hell breaking loose in there."

     With a wry smile and a tight lipped nod, he sweated your shoulder and left into the chaotic mess of a room. The door shut behind him and you looked to Thomas who was now standing awkwardly beside you.

     "Can I help you?" You asked.

     "I- well- I have something I need to tell you. I didn't want to say it infront of the keepers just in case things went south."

     "I could tell you had something to say," You said, "Go ahead, too much going in there for anyone to care what happens out here."

     He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked anywhere else but at you, "When I was going through the changing- I saw something about you."

     "Don't tell me I got some stupid name too, I will be offended," You joked, "Seriously, say it."

     He took a breath, a tell of his that you noticed would come up after he dropped a bomb of information, "I saw you working for the creators, like I did."

     You sucked in a breath, "What?"

     He looked away, "Y/n, you didn't just invent inventions here in the maze. You created the grievers."