Beacon Hills ♚ TMR x TW

11; getting comfortable

Thomas led both Minho and Newt inside the house, showing them the rooms downstairs before leading them up to the second level. He showed them his room in the hall on the right before opening the door on the left. It used to be a junk room but his dad had turned it into a bedroom in the few weeks that Thomas had been in the hospital.

"For right now there's only one room, but my dad is planning on putting a wall up in his office to make the second room. It's big enough that it could've been two rooms originally so it'll all work out eventually. But that means for right now either you'll have to share or one of you will sleep in my room." He explained sheepishly, already feeling bad that one or both of them would have to share.

Newt and Minho shared a look, both of them shrugging. "We'll share, it's what we've been doing since we've left the maze anyway. No big deal." Minho stated.

Thomas' shoulders dropped with relief. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He'd been comfortable in his own home and they've been god knows where since their lives were flipped upside down, and not for the first time in their lives.

He switched a light on and the room lit up. Two beds were pushed against the wall on opposite sides of the room, alongside two dressers. The walls were bare and painted white but his dad had set two gift cards to their local clothing shop on the desks, with each of their names on notes next to them.

Micah or Newt and Calum or Minho.

Both notes had '$150 each' written on the top of it with the words 'I wish there was more, but this should cover a couple simple outfits. Glad to have you here, boys.' Thomas wondered where his dad had even gotten the money for them, but was extremely grateful nonetheless.

"Tommy, this is more than we could ever ask for, thank you," Newt smiled over at Thomas, the latter smiling right back.

"It was mostly my dad. But, uh, I can take you to the shop later today or tomorrow if you want, but I gotta get back to the loft right now. Do you need anything before I go?"

Newt made his way over to the bed and sat on the dark blue sheet.

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, "what are you guys working on?"

"Uh, we... Well, it's uh— homework assignment," he stuttered, his face turning a dark shade of red at the obvious lie.

Both of them looked at him with questioning stares.

He sighed deeply, "that was a lie. Im sorry, I can't tell you yet, but I promise I'll tell you when I can."

Minho didn't look appeased but Newt nodded and answered for him. "It's okay, Tommy. This is your hometown and life we're invading. Tell us when you are comfortable enough to."

Thomas gave an appreciative smile. "If you get bored the tv downstairs gets Hulu, Prime, and all kinds of other streaming services- you can watch almost everything you can think of. Eat anything in the fridge or freezer, you are welcome to everything. There's a house phone in the kitchen with my dad and I's numbers already programmed in it. If you need anything, and I mean anything, call me first. If it's an emergency and I don't answer, call my dad second."

He waited for their nods of affirmation before leaving the room with a simple smile. He locked the front door of the house before getting into his jeep and heading back to the loft for the third time that day.

Heading down the road, Thomas cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave the two boys unprotected. He pulled his phone out and quickly dialed a number.

After three rings he heard "what?"

"I need a favor. I need you to keep watch over two friends of mine from when I was... Gone. They're in my house right now, I need to make sure they don't get attacked by anything supernatural, you know since the new pack is in town."

The pause on the other end of the line made Thomas a little unsure of his decision. Finally he heard "I'll do it— on one condition."

Thomas' heart dropped the slightest bit. "Whatever you want."

He heard a chuckle and then a simple: "that's the spirit. I'll be in touch," before the call was ended.

Thomas threw his phone onto the passenger seat, his breathing a little shaky. He knew that had been his only option as everyone else was powerless, it worried him all the same. He hoped with everything in him that the price wasn't too high. It was hard to tell with Peter Hale.

Newt and Minho made their way downstairs, the latter making himself comfortable on the couch with the tv remote in his hand.

"Are you hungry?" Newt questioned, making his way over to the fridge and staring at the contents inside. He grabbed a container of strawberries, knowing he'd probably burn anything he tried to cook— which is why he wasn't a Cook back when they were in the Glade. He held the strawberries up, Minho glancing over and nodding when he saw them.

Newt made his way back, sitting beside Minho in silence.

Minho was scrolling on Netflix, not saying much just reading every description he came across.

"Funny how different things are in four years time," Minho muttered finally, breaking the comfortable silence.

Newt nodded, breaking off a bite of strawberry. "Four years doesn't seem like a long time, until your kidnapped and brainwashed."

Minho absentmindedly nodded back in agreement.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked, noting how distant Minho seemed.

"What do you think it is that he can't tell us about?" Minho finally spoke his mind, looking over at Newt.

"Tommy?" Newt shrugged. "I'm sure he'll tell us when he's ready. I really don't think we should pry, seeing as him and his father are willing to give us a home."

Minho rolled his eyes. "But we didn't ask them to."

Newt's eyes widened as the words sunk in. "Did you really just say that? If I'm remembering correctly you were the one complaining about the foster home we just left. Now you have a nice house— a nice life being thrown at you and you're going to have a fit about that? Stop being a shu- an asshole, and accept this is your life now. It's better than the alternative and you know it."

Minho sighed, turning the tv off and maneuvering his elbows onto his knees. "I just wish we had a choice in the whole matter. I mean, what happened to us was crazy and should've never happened, but we went through hell to get back and we survived on our own. Shouldn't we get a say in how we live our lives? Apparently not, because we're only seventeen. I don't understand what one more year will do. It's just..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "It's bullshit." Minho finally blurted.

The Glader slang somehow didn't seem appropriate anymore.

Newt was nodding in agreement, "you know I understand. We're in the same boat, Min. All I'm saying is don't look a gift horse in the mouth. You stay here for the year, and if you hate it by all means of course you're free to leave when you turn eighteen. Tommy and his dad will support any decision you make, I can already tell."

Newt picked the remote up and turned the tv back on.

Minho's anger deflated, his stubbornness cooling. Of course Newt was right. He could wait a year, he would try at least.

After a minute of searching, Newt finally turned on Criminal Minds and the pair sat in silence again, watching the show and eating the strawberries.

It's been way too long I'm so so sorry everyone who is still invested in this... I've been trying to put together an actual book and not fanfic and it's been a hectic year.