SONDER (IV): tmr thomas

For those we lost to the Flare

Leo short

Nothing. After my forced isolation by WICKED, I thought that I would never want to be alone again. Never before have I been so impossibly wrong, because the last two days I haven't been able to get out of bed.

Thomas comes in, for the third time today to check on me. He sits on top of the covers, while I lie underneath them. I curl up as much of the fabric as I can into my hands and turn away from him. His sigh fills the room, taking up the empty space in my lungs.

"They've decided that we should fly back tomorrow," he tells me. "We are going to go look for Gally. Hopefully he has Michelle."

I pull the blankets up to my face, hoping they muffle my sobs. I try to think about Michelle, and how she told me to call her Daisy, but I just can't.

"Hey," Thomas hangs over me, brushing a long brown hair out of my face. "Leo, aren't you happy? We're going to find them."

I nod, loosening my grip. Though I don't want to, I let go of the blanket and pull myself upright. My back rests against the wall as I stare at Thomas. He follows me, leaning himself up against the wall. Without the blankets, I'm growing cold. He is so warm though.

"I can't wait to see Michelle again," I tell him, wiping the snot off my face with the back of my hand. "I just wish that Newt... he said he hated me."

"He doesn't," Thomas tells me.

I lean against his shoulder, attempting to steal his warmth. We sit until I feel his shoulders shaking.

"Thomas," I pull up to look at him.

There are tears in his eyes which he tries to hide from me, quickly blinking them away. "It's not your fault, Lee. He's mad at me. He's mad because I... I failed him."

I shake my head back and forth. My arms find there way up to Thomas's face, forcing him to look at me. When I close my eyes, I lean our foreheads together. "You didn't. You were the best friend he could have."

He shakes his head against mine, but I shush him.

"You gave Newt so much," I tell him. "He loved you so much."

"He loved you too," Thomas tells me.

It is impossible to eat the words which I am feeding him, because I know it is a load of klunk. I don't believe for one second that if Newt loved me he would have held on better, but I can't stop the feeling that I, the medic, should have cured him.

"It doesn't matter now," I can feel myself crying. "He was stolen from us, and it wasn't even WICKED's fault. Who can we blame, if we have done nothing wrong?"

"Me," he shakes his head.

Finally, my eyes flick open. I lean back to get a better look at him. Thomas's eyes are red from tears, and his skin is unusually pale. If it weren't impossible, I'd think we had both caught the Flare. It would explain why I feel like I've gone mad.

"What could you have possibly done?" I demand.

Thomas hesitates. His eyes flicker across my face, until he kisses me. I can feel his hands delicately touching my face as his lips press into mine.

I kiss him back while I cry.

Dawn short

In the kitchen, I stir the noodles which cook on the stove to the beat of the music playing on the radio. Minho comes up behind me, placing his hands on my hips. He leans in, burying his face in my hair. Even after all this time (which is really only two months) he still gives me butterflies. In fact, they almost raise me up and carry me off into the sky.