Searching For You (TW/TMR Fusion)

Chapter 15

Waking up after being Stung was an outcome that Thomas had hoped for, but it was still a pleasant surprise when he opened his eyes the next day. His head felt heavy and he was filled with a sense of something indescribable. There were memories in his head that he didn't have before. By all means, those were supposed to be his own memories.

Then, why did it feel all wrong?

***

They didn't have much time. And the memories in his head didn't help anyone either. It was obvious what needed to be done but the other Gladers didn't see it that way.

Thomas left the room in chaos, everyone shouting over one another about the necessity to leave the Glade and go out into the maze. Newt had already left, shooting an unreadable glance at Thomas. Just thinking about that made him wince. He caught Minho's eyes. Minho waved him off discreetly.

Looking around, Thomas searched for a glimpse of Newt. He needed to apologise to the other boy. He realised that putting himself in danger, especially a danger that he hadn't been sure would leave him unscathed, broke the promise he made to Newt to be safe.

He didn't know how, but he knew how it felt when people he cared about kept throwing themselves into situations that would only result in tragedy. Sti- Thomas knew that. And yet he had done the same anyway. Thomas figured he needed to get his head checked.

He caught sight of Newt's disappearing figure, and followed him. Newt was going to the small clearing in the woods where they had spent some time before, whenever they could manage to get away. Thomas hesitated just a moment before shoring up his courage and walking forward.

***

Newt was waiting for him.

"Newt, I–"

Thomas cut himself off when Newt stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Thomas, tucking his head in the crook of Thomas' neck. Newt let out a shuddering breath but was quiet.

Slowly, as though Newt was something infinitely fragile and precious, Thomas folded his own arms around Newt, holding the other securely. He leaned his cheek on Newt's head, the hair soft against his skin.

"The Maze has taken away more people from us than we can count on both hands," Newt said, voice muffled. "Every time you go in, a part of me expects the worst. And yet, you come back anyway."

Newt raised his head to look at Thomas.

"I am tired of the Glade. But I'm terrified that the Maze–" Newt paused, searching for words that would sound a little less ominously conclusive, "–will separate us."

"Hey," Thomas said, softly. He cupped Newt's face in his hands, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. "I know that there's a way out. We got to atleast try. Freedom is almost in our reach, Newt."

Newt took in a long breath.

"Okay," he said, determined. "Okay. I'll support you. We'll leave the Glade. But promise me something, Thomas." Newt's voice sharpened. "You will not risk your life for me, Tommy. Do you understand? Under no circumstances, are you to be a dumb slinthead!"

Thomas laughed and ducked in to catch Newt's lips in a kiss. (He couldn't promise that. He wouldn't promise that.)

They broke apart, smiling.

Thomas flinched when Newt hit him on his arm.

"And what the fuck was that? Getting stung?"

Thomas winced at the vitriol directed at him. He was so screwed.

***

Some Gladers decided to stay back.