It was the 17th of October, 2015, when Thomas was checked into River State Mental hospital. He liked to think that he was insane, and maybe he really was. But a certain blonde with brown eyes made him wish he'd never get his sanity back, because being mental meant staying with him forever if he desired. That same blonde he found himself falling for, and maybe having barely any sanity left in himself and having someone equally insane right beside him meant that their love could be wild and reckless and completely, well, mental. And maybe that wasn't all too bad. This story is fiction made up by me, any resemblance to real life events are unintentional. Newt and Thomas are not my own characters. They belong to James Dashner. Neither is Stiles Stilinski, who belongs to Jeff Davis.

The last thing I remember was my body hitting the ground. I open my eyes to see a blinding white light, and then he's standing there. Newt. And he was smiling. He looked as if he was the happiest boy alive; like he had never been broken. "Welcome to heaven, Tommy," smirked Newt, "took you long enough to get here."