Newt watched as the boy sprinted towards the Deadheads. He was fast, suitable for a Runner. "Alright," Alby called. "Everyone get back to work. You all know how it was when you came up."
The Gladers pushed past Newt, all returning to business as usual. "Hey," Alby clapped Newt on the shoulder. "We should probably follow him. Don't want our Greenie harming himself." Newt only nodded in response.
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The boy was sitting against a tree, his face in his hands, when Newt and Alby found him. The snap of a twig brought his face up. "Where am I?" he asked as Alby knelt down to face him. "You're alright," Alby reassured him. "Now, can you tell me your name?"
The boy looked from Alby to Newt, his dark eyes full of fear. "My name is..." he paused for a moment to think. Newt understood the fear of not remembering anything, even your own name. Not being able to recall any memories or faces. Newt had tried every night for a year to remember. Just to remember one thing would have been enough. But nothing came.
"Thomas," the boy finally said. "My name is Thomas." Newt stared at the boy's pale face. Thomas.
"Well, Thomas," Alby stood up. "I'm Alby. This is Newt." Thomas relaxed a bit, but he never seemed to let the fear completely fade. "Where am I?" He asked again, less panicked this time. "The Glade," Newt answered quietly. "But right now, you're in the Deadheads."
Thomas looked around at the stone graves that covered the area. "What happened to them?" He asked, standing up. "Let's hope you never find out," replied Newt. Thomas looked at him, the obvious fear of the unknown showing on his face. "C'mon," said Newt, turning to leave. "Let me give you the Tour."
YOU ARE READING
What If...?
FanfictionThomas was Newt's only source of happiness. But something snaps inside of Newt and he can't stand it anymore. What if he left? What if he ran from the prison? What if he tried again?
