Error | The Maze Runner / Newt ² ✓

{1.6}

Disclaimer:

Minho: [in a crowd and can't find Newt] This calls for drastic measures.

Minho: [uses hands as microphone] ALBY IS A TERRIBLE LEADER.

Newt: [from somewhere] THE SHUCK DID YOU JUST SAY??

Minho: Found him.

  -✼- 

For a second, the world stopped.

Everything was moving in slow motion as Thomas fell to the ground from the force of the bullet hitting him, landing face-first into the cement. I watched with a sense of detachment in me. It was almost as if I wasn't really there. Then I blinked and I was holding the gun, having just shot my twin brother, his blood now on my hands as well.

My name was a distant echo in my ear. I heard it once, twice, hazy and muffled like I was underwater. It was clear the third time; I blinked and snapped back into focus. Turmoil was occurring around me- Minho was punching the living daylight out of the man who had shot Thomas. The man who had shot him. I looked down at my hands in confusion that I wasn't the one holding the gun. Wasn't I just carrying it?

"Dylan!" Newt called again, already crouched down at my brother's side as blood began blossoming on his shoulder. "Dylan, come on and help me."

I blinked and bent down to tend to Thomas. The blood was increasing its flow, rapidly pouring out of the wound where the bullet was lodged into his shoulder. The skin around it was oozing red in thick trickles that made me nauseous.

"He shot me," Thomas whispered in disbelief, eyes shifting from his injury to Newt to me and then the sky, darting around wildly in his skull.

"He's in shock, I think," I said without really realizing it. I didn't remember thinking those words at all. "Someone hand me a shirt."

Even if my mind didn't want to comprehend what was going on, my body did. Someone handed me a shirt like I asked. When I pressed it against Thomas' shoulder, he cried out in such a way that made a shudder run through me.

"Dylan, here." Newt gently placed his hand over mine as he gave me a look of great concern. "Together."

I nodded and closed my eyes briefly, thankful for his help.

"I can get that sucker out of him," Jorge informed us as he bent over Thomas. "But I'll need a fire."

"We can't do this here," Newt argued.

Minho - when had he returned? - nodded in agreement. "Let's get out of this shuck city."

"All right." I stood, once again moving as if my brain was on autopilot. The words and actions were coming but I didn't seem to be doing them. "Help me carry him."

"Dylan, no," Frypan scolded before I could even bend to lift my brother. "You crazy? You're in no state of mind for that."

"I'm fine," my voice dismissed him along with a wave of my hand. Why was I lying to him? Why did my body not want to listen?