Experiment 18- Newt fanfic

Chapter 30: Thomas is more Psycho than Gally

“Gally said it. Alby said it. Ben said it. Newt continued, “the girl, Teresa after we took her out of the Box—" I pause." They all said things were going to change.”

I look away for a moment, then turn back. “That’s right. And Gally, Alby and Ben claim they saw you in their memories after the Changing—and from what I gather, you weren’t plantin’ flowers and helpin’ old ladies cross the street. According to Gally, there’s somethin’ rotten enough about ya that he wants to kill ya.”

“Newt, I don’t know—” Thomas started, but I don’t let him finish.

“I know you don’t remember anything, Thomas! Quit sayin’ that—don’t ever say it again. None of us remember anything, and we’re bloody sick of you reminding us. The point is there’s something different about you, and it’s time we figured it out.”

“Fine, so how do we do it? I want to know who I am just as much as anyone else. Obviously.” Thomas snaps.

“I need you to open your mind. Be honest if anything—anything at all—seems familiar.”

“Nothing—” Thomas starts, but stops

“I can see your wheels spinnin’,” I say quietly. “Talk.”

Thomas hesitates “Well … I can’t put my finger on anything specific.” He spoke slowly, carefully. “But I did feel like I’d been here before when I first got here.” He looked at me, hoping to see some sort of recognition in his eyes. “Anyone else go through that?”

My face was blank. I simply rolled his eyes. “Uh, no, Tommy. Most of us spent a week klunkin’ our pants and bawlin’ our eyes out.. Not Vivian though.. She was so brave..”

“Oh...” Thomas paused, upset and suddenly embarrassed. “It all seemed familiar to me, and I knew I wanted to be a Runner.”

“That’s bloody interesting.” I examine him for a second. Well, keep lookin’ for it. Strain your mind, spend your free time wanderin’ your thoughts, and think about this place. Delve inside that brain of yours, and seek it out. Try, for all our sakes.”

“I will.” Thomas closes his eyes.

“Not now, you dumb shuck.” I laugh. “I just meant do it from now on. Free time, meals, goin’ to sleep at night, as you walk around, train, work. Tell me anything that seems even remotely familiar. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” Thomas nods.

“Good that,” I say, looking almost too agreeable. “To begin, we better go see someone.”

“Who?” Thomas asks.

“The girl. I want you to look at her till your eyes bleed, see if somethin’ gets triggered in that shuck brain of yours.” I gather my lunch trash and stand up. “Then I want you to tell me every single word Alby said to you.”

Thomas sighs, then got to his feet. “Okay.”

We walk back toward the Homestead, where the girl still lay in a coma.

“If all else fails,” I say “we’ll send ya to the Grievers—get ya stung so you can go through the Changing. We need your memories.”

Thomas barks a sarcastic laugh at the idea, but I wasn’t smiling.

The girl seemed to be sleeping peacefully, like she’d wake up at any minute. I  almost expected the skeletal remnant of a person—someone on the verge of death. But her chest rose and fell with even breaths; her skin was full of color.

Clint was there dropping water into the comatose girl’s mouth a few drips at a time. A plate and bowl on the bedside table had the remains of her lunch—mashed potatoes and soup. They were doing everything possible to keep her alive and healthy.

“Hey, Clint,” I say sounding comfortable, like he’d stopped by to visit many times before. “She surviving?”

“Yeah,” Clint answers. “She’s doing fine, though she talks in her sleep all the time. We think she’ll come out of it soon.”

“Have you been writin’ down every word she says?” I ask.

Clint nods. “Most of it’s impossible to understand. But yeah, when we can.”

I pointe at a notepad on the nightstand. “Give me an example.”

“Well, the same thing she said when we pulled her out of the Box, about things changing. Other stuff about the Creators and how ‘it all has to end.’ And, uh …” Clint looks at Thomas as if he didn’t want to continue in his company.

“It’s okay—he can hear whatever I hear,” I assure him.

“Well … I can’t make it all out, but …” Clint looked at Thomas again. “She keeps saying his name over and over and sometimes Vivians.”

“Thanks, Clint,” I say. “Get us a report of all that, okay?”

“Will do.” The Med-jack nods at both of them and leaves the room.

“Pull up a chair,” I say as I sit on the edge of the bed.

Thomas ignores me looking around the room in confusion, knowing he’d heard a voice, then back at the girl.

“I …” He sits back down, leaned forward, staring at the girl’s face. “Newt, did you just say something before I stood up?”

“No.." I say rocking Valley. "Why?"

“Oh. I just thought I heard something … I don’t know. Maybe it was in my head. Did … she say anything?”

“Her?” I ask as my  eyes lit up. “No. Why? What did you hear?”

Thomas mumbles. “I … I swear I heard a name. Teresa.”

“We already knew her name was Teresa!" I yell annoyed. "But it's a start."

Thomas sits there awkwardly looking at Teresa.

I watch him for awhile then go back to rocking Valley humming softly.

Thomas pales falling back into the seat.

I stand up. "What? What's the matter?"

Thomas doesn't answer as he runs out the door.

I stand up abruptly walking to the door watching him run.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" I ask watching him run. "Where is he even running too..?"

Valley looks up at me and coos.

"He's running Valley." I say.

Valley coos again.

"He's more psycho than Gally."