Multifandom X Reader Stories

Breaking Through the Distance (TMR Thomas) PART1

Chuck's death changed everything.

The moment he collapsed in your arms, a gaping wound in his chest where the bullet hit, something inside you shattered. Chuck was like a little brother to you—a light in the darkness of the Maze and the Scorch. He had made the Glade feel like home, made the unbearable heat of the desert feel less lonely. And now, he was gone.

Ever since that night, you couldn't bear to look at anyone, least of all Thomas. You knew he was hurting too—more than anyone, maybe—but every time you saw him, it brought everything back. The pain, the guilt, the crushing weight of losing Chuck. So, you did the only thing you could: you shut him out. You shut everyone out.

Even when you arrived at the so-called "safe place," the pain didn't leave. The people in white coats and sterile smiles didn't make you feel any safer, and the distance you put between yourself and the others only grew wider. The Gladers, especially Thomas, had tried to reach out, but you kept pushing them away, isolating yourself in your grief.

You missed him. Chuck. His laughter, his goofy jokes, the way he looked up to you like you were invincible. But now, you felt nothing but hollow, as though part of you had died with him.

"Hey," Thomas had said earlier, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but you could hear the concern in it. "You don't have to go through this alone."

But you hadn't responded, just walked away without a word. You didn't trust yourself to say anything, knowing that if you opened your mouth, the flood of emotions would spill out, and you weren't ready for that.

Then, things took a sharp turn. The safe place wasn't as safe as you thought.

One of the doctors—a woman in a crisp white coat—approached you and Teresa as you lingered in the halls, lost in your thoughts. She told you that they needed to run some "tests," and that it was nothing to worry about. But something about the way she said it made you feel uneasy.

"Come with us," she said, gesturing for you and Teresa to follow.

You cast a glance at Teresa, who looked just as uncertain as you felt, but before you could move, you felt a hand on your arm.

"Wait," Thomas said, his voice firm. He stepped in front of you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of concern and defiance. "I'm not letting you take her."

The doctors exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. "It's protocol. We need to make sure they're healthy and—"

"I don't care," Thomas snapped, his hand tightening slightly on your arm as if he were afraid to let go. "I'm not leaving her."

You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. Despite everything—despite how distant you had become—Thomas was still here, refusing to leave your side. You felt the weight of the last few weeks, the walls you had built around yourself, start to crack.

"Thomas..." you began, your voice hoarse from disuse. You wanted to tell him to go, to leave before it got harder, but the words caught in your throat.

He shook his head, his expression softening. "I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time in what felt like ages, you let yourself feel it—the warmth, the safety of his presence. You had pushed him away so many times, and yet here he was, standing in front of you, protecting you. The grief you had buried deep inside began to rise to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a hug.

Thomas stiffened for a moment, clearly not expecting it, but then his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his shoulder, your breath shaky as the weight of everything pressed down on you. Chuck's death, the distance you had created, the fear that you might never feel whole again—it all came crashing down.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Thomas pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft and filled with understanding. "You don't have to apologize. We all miss him."

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It was a small gesture, but it held all the things you hadn't been able to say—your gratitude, your affection, your apology for pushing him away.

Thomas blinked, clearly surprised by the kiss, but the warmth in his eyes told you he understood. He didn't need words to know what you were trying to say.

"Take care of them, okay?" you said softly, glancing at the rest of the Gladers who stood behind him, watching the exchange with quiet smiles. You could see Newt, Frypan, and even Minho giving you small nods of encouragement.

"I will," Thomas promised, his voice steady.

You took a step back, giving him one last look before turning to follow the doctors. Your heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, the walls you had built around yourself finally beginning to crumble. Chuck was gone, and the pain of losing him would never fully fade, but you weren't alone. Not anymore.

As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time. Thomas stood there, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. And behind him, the Gladers—all of them—stood with knowing smiles on their faces. They hadn't given up on you. None of them had.

And neither had you.