Memories {Teen Wolf/Maze Runner crossover fanfiction}

"I Think, I Might Have A Plan."

Thomas shrugged, he didn't have any reassurance, he couldn't explain why he felt the way he did, and he highly doubted Newt or Minho would appreciate something along the lines of 'I've just got a feeling.'

Newt sighed, shooting Thomas a look. It wasn't exactly Thomas' fault that he couldn't remember anything, honestly, it probably annoyed Thomas more than it did anyone else. But Thomas refrained from voicing as much, because he knew, if the situation was reversed, he'd be exactly the same. Probably because Newt and Minho had taught him everything he knew about how to survive.

"I know I'm pretty much useless here, okay?" Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture that left his hand feeling grimy and dirty, which he supposed was to be expected, considering there was no working showers in the glade - a bucket, some water and whatever supplies the creators sent up, it wasn't exactly a paradise.

"Shut up shuck face." Minho snapped - playfully though - although what he was saying probably didn't warrant it, the words caused Thomas to smile. Minho was arguing with him, without cracking his 'I-don't-care' exterior. Minho was disagreeing, he was saying Thomas was useful, even when he was at his most useless.

"Yeah whatever you shank." Thomas pushed himself forwards, continuing their somewhat staggered journey to the kitchens, what could he say? He was hungry, passing out really did take a toll on him.

Newt and Minho once again took up position either side of him, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence where you just enjoyed the reassurance that came from knowing the other person was alive, and with you. It had never really struck him quite so profoundly until now, just how fragile the idea of life was. Especially when it came down to him and his fellow gladers.

It was then that something seemed to flip in Thomas, like a physical part of himself switched itself on. Suddenly, the trees weren't just trees - they were there to help, to be weaponised, to be climbed, to be used however needed. The supplies WICKED gave them weren't just supplies anymore - they could be twisted, changed. The beetle blades weren't just there to spy on the gladers - they could be reversed, and used to spy on the creators. Everything, everything here served a purpose for WICKED, so why couldn't it serve a purpose for them?

Thomas pulled Newt and Minho to a halt - for the second time - ignoring their furrowed brows. They seemed to note the glint in his eye, and so they pulled him over to one side, immediately turning to face him once they'd found a secluded corner.

"Spill." Minho demanded, while Newt checked to see that all the other gladers were occupied. Thomas tried his hardest not to smile.

"I think, I might have a plan."