It Wasn't Real

Prologue

Prologue

A/N: Hello, Everyone! I am super excited for this fanfiction! I have had this idea in my head for a long time, and just now decided to write it! I really hope you like it just as much as I do. I also have the first chapter written and sent off to be proofread, so look forward to that. I am not sure right now how often I will update, but I really do hope it will be rather fast!

"Please, Tommy. Please."

Bang!

Newt gasped as he awoke, sluggishly looking around the pristine, white room. The bright lights blinded him slightly as he blinked, trying to figure out where he was. He had just died hadn't he? So, why was he sitting on a soft mattress and, well, alive?

He was about to get out of the bed, when a man walked in. He looked to be in his forties, lanky and balding. He looked up from his clipboard at Newt, his grey eyes cold.

"Ah, Newton's awake." He mumbled to himself, turning back to the clipboard and writing something down.

"Who are you? Where am I? Why am I not-" Newt stopped. He wondered briefly if it was all a dream. The Maze, The Scorch, all of it.

"Dead?" The man finished for him "It's quite simple really. It was all a simulation."

Newt's eyes widened. "What?"

"We sent you and the others into a simulation. Much easier and safer, don't you think?"

"You mean to say everything we went through-" He was cut off.

"Wasn't real. Any of it."

"So everyone's okay?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, everyone is fine. Physically at least, the simulation has caused a lot of emotional trauma. Of course this was expected, with a few therapy sessions, you should all be back to your normal selves."

Newt snorted. "Yeah right. I can't see anyone being their selves ever again. Not after what happened."

The man walked closer to Newt. "You feel guilty." He stated.

Newt's eyes widened. "Now what are you bloody on about?"

"You feel guilty about all the lives lost while you were in charge. You think that if Alby didn't sacrifice himself, there wouldn't have been as many casualties."

Newt huffed and looked down at his clenched fists. "That's not even slightly true."

"Newton-"

"Don't call me that."

The man sighed. "Newt. You don't have to put on this tough guy act. It's over, everyone's safe."

"But not okay."

"What?"

Newt looked up. "That's what you said, wasn't it? No one is okay. They're all going to need therapy."

"Well, yes, but they are alive and physically unharmed."

"Leave, please." Newt said softly.

"Newt-"

"I want to be alone." He pleaded "Please."

The man held up both hands in surrender. "Okay. If you need anything, just ask the guard outside for Dr. Richardson."

With that he left, leaving Newt to his thoughts.

--------

After a while, Newt sighed and got out of the bed. He opened the door and asked the guard if he could send for Dr. Richardson. He went back to the bed, sitting down and biting his nails in nervousness.