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1.
It’s another irrational decision in a series of choices he keeps making out of fear, but Thomas feels entitled to be the opposite of level-headed at the moment considering that he seems to be surrounded by bullies.
The first impression, the feeling of relative safety, the naïve voice in his head saying they’re just boys are rapidly giving way to fear, sheer panic unfurling inside his ribcage, growing steadily with each passing second. The longer he looks at the others and listens to them talk, the more obvious it becomes that they’re all stuck here, whatever and wherever here is. Thomas doesn’t really know anything other than his own name, has no idea what to do or how to react, because no matter what he says the others either get angry or start to mock him. Letting his instincts guide him is the only option he has.
And it’s – beyond ridiculous, it’s absurd, no one can tell if someone is nice or not just by looking at them, that’s not how it works, it isn’t possible. And yet –
It’s his voice, the strange accent, the affection he doesn’t try to conceal even when he chides Alby. It’s his playful and approachable demeanor, the way in which he gently cuffs Alby around the head and then crouches in front of Thomas to be at eye level with him when he introduces himself. It’s the ghost of a smile that reminds Thomas of days filled with laughter and brings back make-believe memories. It’s something about him that makes Thomas feel he can trust him with everything he has. So he doesn’t refuse to shake his hand like he did with Alby, weirdly pleased to see Newt’s friendly smile widen a fraction when their fingers touch.
It can’t be that bad, he decides then, staring dumbly at a boy he’s never seen before. This place, this life – it can’t be all bad if there’s someone here who still has the power to smile and be warm and welcoming and kind. Instead of the apprehension he felt seeping into his bones less than ten minutes ago, it’s suddenly the certainty of safety that begins to spread through his body, and it’s Newt he looks at for help when Alby attempts to explain the rules without really explaining anything at all.
Nothing that comes out of Alby’s mouth makes sense to Thomas, but Newt nods at him, puts a hand on his shoulder and stays by his side when Alby leaves, and Thomas still doesn’t know shit for sure, but he thinks this is how the beginning of something takes shape, with a soothing touch and kind words and the unspoken promise to be there.
2.
The hand on his mouth sends chills down his spine, making his heart want to give up on beating for a second, for a minute, forever. But then he opens his eyes and recognizes the unguarded expression on a face that’s a little too close to his own, and the terror melts away like helpless icicles under the warmth of the sun.
He’s still half-asleep and cranky because no one gives him any answers regardless of how many times the first word he utters whenever he opens his mouth is why or who or what, but Newt says he has to show him something and, well, he can’t exactly say no when someone seems to finally be willing to share some information with him. Especially if that person is Newt, who seems to be the only one who isn’t annoyed by Thomas’s incessant curiosity. Newt, who laughs heartily and tells Thomas that he likes him.
To be honest, his blood freezes in his veins and he feels like he’s going to throw up the last bits of courage he still has left when he sees it, but he takes a deep, steadying breath, then another, and another, until it registers in his brain that he’s on the other side where he’s safe, where the Griever can’t hurt him. He doesn’t want to keep looking at it, though, so he takes a step back, focusing on Newt’s dark eyes instead.
It isn’t – he wasn’t really expecting that, and he can’t help but wonder if Newt showed him what’s inside the Maze to make him change his mind about being a Runner. Because that won’t happen. He still wants to become a Runner.
He doesn’t tell Newt what he’s thinking, but apparently he doesn’t even have to. Newt seems to know exactly what’s going through Thomas’s head, saying that Thomas should at least be aware of the risks, of what he’ll possibly have to face if he’s still so intent on going into the buggin’ thing. And it isn’t necessarily a guarantee that Thomas will get his way, but it’s – something, a maybe. He just has to prove that he’s fast and strong and determined enough, that he’s not afraid of the monsters lurking in the dark.
They walk back to the Homestead in silence, shoulders and arms touching every now and then, and Thomas realizes with a start that he doesn’t mind the contact. It feels like an almost faded memory, the sensation familiar and new all at once, a blurry image in his mind that he struggles to grasp, slipping through his fingers like grains of fine sand. He hates that he can’t remember if he used to do that. It touching like that used to be normal. If he used to have close friends that he would touch to provide comfort and reassurance.
Newt gives him a little smile, sort of sad and sort of worried, like he wants to ask Thomas how he’s holding up after what he just saw without actually saying the words. And Thomas – the truth is he doesn’t know if he’s okay yet, probably not, but what he does know is that he’s grateful. He tries to imagine what it would have been like if it had been Alby or anyone else showing him the Griever instead of Newt and he shudders. He’s sure the others would have taunted him, shooting one sarcastic remark after another to remind him that in here he’s on the bottom rung of the social ladder. Newt on the other hand is gentle and seems to care about Thomas’s well-being, even if there’s no reason why he should, and Thomas is beyond relieved that it was Newt who woke him up that morning.
It’s not like he’s becoming dependent on Newt or anything. But Newt has such a calming presence, bringing warmth and unconditional kindness to a place that is anything but. He’s genuinely good. It’s only natural that Thomas likes to have him around.
3.
They keep talking about punishments and Thomas doesn’t get it why, given that they’ve already established that saving Alby’s life and killing a bunch of Grievers was actually a good thing. He doesn’t want to be hailed as a hero, doesn’t want to be Keeper of the Runners – and seriously, what the hell was Minho thinking – but he doesn’t understand why he should be punished if he did the right thing. Okay, so maybe he broke the Gladers’ number one rule, but shouldn’t the fact that he saved Alby matter more?
He’s almost resigned himself to the idea that he’s going to have to spend a week in the Slammer like Winston suggested when Newt says one day and appoints him a Runner.
Thomas is able to control himself and not jump into Newt’s arms right then and there, but only just. He gets high on excitement and anticipation, neon-bright thoughts swarming through his head at the speed of light, and it takes him a minute to realize that he’s finally getting what he wanted since he got here. When he notices Minho standing nearby with a satisfied smirk on his face, looking so pleased with the turn of events as if this was what he’d been planning all along, Thomas can’t help but smile back at him, an unvoiced thank you that Minho acknowledges with a tiny, conspiratorial nod. He doesn’t stop smirking.
In front of him, Newt goes back to writing down notes, avoiding Thomas’s gaze. Thomas tries not to read too much into it. He also has to try really hard not to smile when the punishment turns from one whole day to morning till sunset, Thomas asking Newt about it right before the meeting is over and the rest of the Keepers leave. There’s nothing to smile about, it isn’t funny. But he and Minho keep grinning at each other like they’ve actually won something for once, and Thomas doesn’t understand why Newt isn’t happy and smiling too.
But later Newt grabs Thomas’s arm and doesn’t let him go talk to Alby on his own, and it really shouldn’t matter to Thomas as much as it does. He knows that Newt is only being cautious because Alby is more than just a little unpredictable at the moment, but. It matters. It matters and it makes his heartbeat speed up pleasantly.
Newt is protective of him.
And Thomas – he likes that. He can’t explain why, but he likes it.
4.
He hopes that going to sleep near the Deadheads with nothing but ivy vines for a pillow will make it clear to everyone that he really needs to be alone for a while, away from all of them, away from the voice inside his head. Away from her.
When he wakes up he thinks to himself that he’s managed to find a pretty decent hiding place, considering that no one has come to bother him or drag him back to the Homestead, until he realizes that he’s awake only because someone is gently nudging his shoulder. And how exactly did Chuck manage to find him before anyone else, how he always manages to find Thomas, he really doesn’t know.
But then he notices the blankets draped over his body and –
He doesn’t –
He desperately tries not to think. He remembers running away because he was scared and kept hearing her voice in his head, and that’s not possible, it just doesn’t happen, it can’t –
He remembers running away from Newt without a word. And the thought that Newt came and found him and brought him shuckin’ blankets so that he wouldn’t freeze his ass off like the idiot that he is – it’s too much to handle right now.
Besides, it’s not as if he can know for sure who was the one that decided to – be nice and look after Thomas. Because it could have been anyone, really. Okay, maybe not anyone, but –
“Newt found you last night and told everyone to let you sleep,” Chuck says then, and Thomas almost whimpers because of course Newt did. He has no idea why he tried to convince himself that it could have been anyone else.
And suddenly Newt is there to take him to the Slammer, and he’s smiling, smiling in a way that makes Thomas forget he’s going to spend the day in prison, smiling like he knew Thomas needed that. And Thomas, stupidly, ridiculously, thinks that Newt’s smile is the one thing that can make everything in this chaotic world feel right again.
5.
He admits that he’s guilty, that he and Teresa are responsible for everything these boys he’s come to consider his friends have been through for the past two years. He’s about to say that he’s going to accept any punishment they believe he deserves, but Newt shuts that idea down before Thomas can get a single word out.
Newt insists that it’s Creators’ fault; not Thomas’s, not Teresa’s. Nobody disagrees. It should be reassuring – and it is, obviously, Thomas could have sworn they were going to offer him to the Grievers after his confession and he’s infinitely relieved and grateful to see that they’re still on his side. But. It’s also a little overwhelming. Newt’s resoluteness, the way in which he defends Thomas, protects him, believes that he is innocent even when Thomas himself doubts that. And he doesn’t know what it means. He isn’t sure he wants to find out.
But there’s no time for that now, because he has a plan, because he knows what he has to do to get them out. He’s going to fix everything, make sure that they all survive. And if he has to sacrifice himself for that to happen, then so be it.
Newt doesn’t seem to like the idea very much.
If he wasn’t overcome by irrational anger, Thomas is pretty sure he would start crying. Because he’s done absolutely nothing to deserve what Newt is giving him here, the fierce protection, the unyielding devotion, the friendly affection that borders on something too big and too strong and impossible. And he needs to make Newt understand that he has to do this. For Chuck, for all of them, it’s the least he can do after –
It’s a way out. It’s dangerous, it’s a risk, it’s anything but ideal, and maybe he won’t make it, but they will, and that’s what matters. They have to try.
He sees it in Newt’s eyes first, bright and round and glistening with something Thomas can’t name; his resolve is starting to falter, and Thomas is expecting him to finally agree with the plan. But then Newt turns Thomas’s world upside down once again, and it shouldn’t even surprise him anymore, honestly, saying that he’ll try to convince the Keepers to go with the plan if Thomas stops with the suicidal tendencies and the talks about noble sacrifices.
Thomas almost smiles. Almost. They’re dealing with a life-and-death situation, now is not the time to be smiling. But he will. God, he will. If they make it out alive he swears he’ll never stop smiling at Newt, swears he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to him. Because Newt deserves –
He deserves a good life and everything good that life can give.
+1
“Think we knew each other? Before?”
Newt frowns down at his slice of pizza, letting out a small sigh before he turns to look at Thomas with unreadable eyes. Thomas gulps.
They’re wearing clean, comfortable clothes, blood and grime washed away from their bodies by warm water and fruit-scented soap. It’s easier to focus on that, to take in the luxury no one believed still existed, than to think about what happened over the last few hours. About everyone and everything they lost. A little brother, a best friend. The pieces of themselves that all of them left behind in the Maze.
It hurts to mourn the innocence that was taken from them, so they don’t.
Thomas thinks they’re allowed to be in denial for one night.
Newt lets out another weary sigh, watching Thomas intently. There’s a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why do you ask, Tommy?” He doesn’t sound annoyed; just curious and maybe a little amused.
Thomas shrugs. “Cause I think we did,” he says, keeping his voice calm and steady, hoping not to give away how stupidly nervous he is. Then again, he can’t stop cracking knuckles, so he supposes Newt already knows he’s panicking. “I think we were friends. Close friends. That we cared about each other a lot.”
“I care about you now.” Newt smiles again, grabbing one of Thomas’s hands and swiping a thumb over his knuckles. Thomas starts jiggling his leg instead because he still is a nervous wreck.
He knows that Newt cares. And that’s exactly it, that’s why he can’t help but think that they knew each other before the Trials. Because people don’t just get attached the way the two of them have, so easily and completely after having known each other for less than a week.
And there’s still so much he wants to say, fears and hopes and bouts of bravery that he wishes he could put into words. He wants to find a way to explain what his heartbeat is trying to spell out, to reassure Newt, to take his mind off what happened, to tell Newt that he’s not going to lose him too. That he’s sure they’re connected somehow and feels like they’ve always been. But maybe, he thinks as he looks down at their intertwined fingers, he doesn’t have to hold on to the past to make sense of what he’s feeling now.
“You know what,” he says and knocks their shoulders together, offering a sincere smile that matches Newt’s. “Whatever we were before – it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t make this any less real.” His grip around Newt’s fingers tightens for a second. He pulls his hand back then and his heart begins to dance in an unsteady little rhythm inside his chest. Still, he feels like he should give Newt some space. Let him decide what should happen next. Because Newt always seems perfectly content to let Thomas be in charge, but Thomas never dares to do anything without Newt’s approval, without his support.
And Newt doesn’t make him wait, taking his hand again, holding on tightly and smiling like he understands everything Thomas is trying to say but isn’t able to just yet. He presses a kiss to Thomas’s cheek, grinning widely, a silent thank you that Thomas isn’t sure he deserves. But Newt looks happy, bright constellations lighting up his dark eyes, and in that moment Thomas makes a promise to protect that happiness until his eyes close for the last time.