𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦, thomas (tmr)

Chapter Twenty One

Clara made sure she was the one to tend to Thomas' wounds.

She led him off towards the Med-jack room instantly after her suggestion for a Glader meeting. Newt had agreed to it, and gave them fifteen minutes to sort themselves out before meeting in the Council room, and so she had to be quick in making sure there was no long-lasting damage from the night in the Maze.

She thought she would have so much to say to him, but as she worked on treating and bandaging his injuries, she was silent. She thought there was so much to say that she didn't know where to start.

But really, she felt content with just sitting with him in shared quiet.

She could sense him watching her as she bandaged up a gash on his arm, but she didn't look back at him, knowing that she'd become more than distracted from treating him. They were somehow alone in the Med-jack room, not knowing where Clint, Jeff, Alby and Minho had all disappeared off to. 

"What was it like?" She asked suddenly.

Thomas' puzzled face let Clara know that the question was too vague. She gave him a sheepish smile, wanting to clarifying.

"Out in the Maze at night. I've been in the day, of course, but never in the dark."

Thomas only shrugged at first. In contrast to the girl's experiences, he had never been in the Maze in the day time.

"I assume it's like what it's like in the day, only darker." He said bluntly, and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Well no shit, Thomas. What was it like with the Grievers? You know, killing one of them?"

Minho's words of Thomas killing a Griever were bouncing around her mind and as she stared at the boy in front of her, she could scarcely believe it. He could be a bit of an idiot sometimes.

"I don't know, I just- I trapped one in a wall. It was lucky."

"That doesn't sound like luck to me, it sounds like skill." Clara replied, reaching to wipe away some dried blood from his arm.

Thomas shrugged, not replying. She couldn't read him well in that moment. She couldn't tell he was wondering why he of all people was the one to kill a Griever and to finally survive a night in the Maze.

None of it made sense to Thomas, and it made his head hurt. The visions, and the night in the Maze, and the very attractive girl sat in front of him; it all confused him far too much for him to handle.

Clara could see the frown resting on Thomas' lips, and the way he touched his temples with his fingers to try and ease his headache. She felt her heart lurch and her brain scrambled for something to say to try and distract him and make him feel better.

"I won't lie," Clara began again, pausing to tie off the bandages. "I can't believe you didn't die to a Griever."

Perfect. Tell him you thought he was going to die!

She met the boy's gaze and he laughed in disbelief at her ever so faithful words. He shifted in his spot, shrugging, and grinned at her. 

Oh, maybe that did work.

"Well, you didn't die to a Griever either." Thomas pointed out, referring to her incident in the Maze a while ago. "You sounded brave as well."

Clara turned away then, to put the bandages back and to hide the blush on her cheeks. Once she had composed herself, she could whirl back around and retort,

"I'm brave? You threw yourself in the shucking Maze!"

It was Thomas' turn to blush, chuckling softly, as he shook his head in modesty. He could feel his stomach doing backflips at the way she was watching him and glanced away sheepishly.