Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{4.0}

She took the paper back. "The Maze has been repeating these words for months-—we finally quit when that became clear. Each time, after the word PUSH, it goes a full week without showing any letter at all, and then it starts over again with FLOAT. So we figured that that's the first word, and that's the order."

I put a hand to my forehead as I tried to take all this information in. "This is insane."

Thomas folded his arms and leaned onto the shelf beside Teresa.

"Cheerful, don't you think?" Newt commented ironically.

"Yeah," Thomas replied with a groan of frustration. "We need to get Minho down here- maybe he knows something we don't. If we just had more clues -"

I gasped as he was hit with a dizzy spell and nearly collapsed. On instinct, I rushed forward to catch him, but he had just managed to grab the shelves beside him. Thomas panted heavily from shock, eyes wide. He sent me a nod when I gave him a look of concern.

"Tommy?" Newt asked as he took a step forward. Crinkles of worry lined his forehead. "What's wrong with you? Your face just went white as a ghost."

Thomas shook his head and gently shooed me away, composing himself. "Oh...nothing, sorry. My eyes are hurting- I think I need some sleep." He reached up and rubbed his temples with a grimace on his face.

I bit my lip and sent Newt a questioning glance. Was he really okay? Was that a normal reaction to lack of rest? Either way, something was up with Thomas; had been fine only moments ago. I just had to figure out what was wrong.

"Well," Newt reached over and gave Thomas' shoulder a squeeze, "you spent all bloody night out in the Maze— go take a nap."

Thomas shifted his eyes between the three of us before nodding and heading to the stairs. Without consent from the others, I quickly followed behind. I hurried out the door and thumped up the steps behind him. Upon hearing my footsteps, he turned around and gave me a look that basically asked, "What are you doing?"

"What's wrong with you?" I questioned as I fell in step beside him. He merely huffed in response. "C'mon, please?"

Thomas simply stared straight in front of him and continued on his way out of the Homestead. My throat rumbled with an angry groan. Why did he refuse to tell me anything?

I couldn't help the worry that was embedded in both my brain and my heart. I hadn't been able to talk to him about much due to our - now separate - jobs. Somehow I could tell that he wasn't all right.

Getting exasperated and wanting answers (almost to the point of desperation), I turned sharply so I was standing directly in his path. My hand stretched out to stop him and he bumped into it before coming to a halt.

"Thomas," I began, "you're my brother. You're my twin. We are two halves of the same soul, and I love you. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you or pass it on to anyone else. You should know that you can confide in me when you need it. Now please. Tell me what's wrong."

Thomas' worried eyes studied me carefully for a long moment before he heaved out a long sigh. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me out of the Homestead and over to the Deadheads. No one spared us a second glance as he dragged me past them. It wasn't a very outlandish sight compared to what transpired earlier that week.

We stopped outside the edge of the trees. No one was near- we had made sure of that. Thomas let go of my arm and bent down to match my height, whispering, "I have a plan, but it's wild."

Immediately my chest filled with dread. Almost all of Thomas' plans involved stupid, incomplete thoughts and decisions he hadn't fully thought out. But then again, they pretty much always worked.