TMR - Thomas x X-reader fanfiction

Chapter Nine

Y/N's POV

Thomas gasped awake, his body jerking as if he had been pulled out of a nightmare. His wide eyes darted around, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath.

I ran to his side and grabbed his hand. "Thomas, it's okay," I said softly, my other hand resting on his arm.

He didn't respond right away, his panicked gaze fixing on mine. Without warning, he pulled me into a tight hug, his trembling arms locking around me as if I might disappear.

"It's okay, you're safe here," I murmured, feeling his tears soak into my shirt. "I got you."

His breathing began to steady, but his grip didn't loosen. "The glade," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The glade?" Minho repeated from across the room, his tone confused.

"We gotta run—NOW!" Thomas shouted, bolting to his feet.

"Tommy, what do you mean?" Newt said, stepping forward and grabbing his arm stopping him from running out the door.

Thomas turned, his expression desperate. "I... I have a bad feeling. Something's wrong... I don't know how to explain it, but I just know. Trust me."

I felt it too, a cold weight settling in my chest. "Thomas is right," I said, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes mirrored my own worry, and we both nodded silently.

We ran toward the glade, the pain from earlier shooting through my veins as the dark trees blurring around us. Minho and Newt followed close behind, their confusion palpable.

By the time we reached the glade's entrance, my heart was hammering in my chest. We skidded to a halt, the scene before us stopping us in our tracks.

A griever.

"IT'S ATTACKING THE OTHER GLADERS!" I shouted, fear gripping me as I took in the chaos.

The massive creature barreled through the glade, its metallic limbs striking out as the gladers scattered in terror.

We sprinted toward the Bloodhouse, where Winston was arming himself with tools.

"Winston, what's happening?" I yelled over the chaos.

"GRIEVER ATTACK!" he shouted back.

"Yeah, no shit, I can see that," I snapped, grabbing his arm. "But how did it get past the doors?"

"By walking right through them!" he yelled before running off with some tools.

I turned to Newt, who looked as stunned as I felt.

"Don't look at me," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know how that bloody griever got in."

"Quick, find me some rope—I have an idea," I said, already running off.

"Y/N..." Minho called after me, but I didn't stop. "Just find me some rope, okay?"

Thomas' POV

"Okay, let's find some rope, then," Newt said, already scanning the area.

We headed toward the track-hoes, searching frantically.

"I'll check over here," Minho called, running off.

"Hey, what happened?" Newt asked when we were alone. I knew exactly what he was hinting at.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Tommy," Newt said, his voice filled with concern.