TMR Imagines and Preferences - Newt, Thomas, Minho, and Gally

Captured

(This is ridiculously cheesy, but I'm out of ideas)

Thomas: (TDC) He watched as the blue liquid enclosed the man in a shell that turned hard like plastic. As punishment for taking the bliss, two men were doing this to him, then taking him god knows where.

"Enjoyin' the show, kiddo? When this is over, you're comin' with me." Red-Shirt snarled. Thomas glared up at him with little anger. After all, he didn't care what happened to him. He didn't have the energy to care.

Because you had been missing for the past few days, and you guys were in Denver, where immunes were disappearing left and right. You could be anywhere.

"So, yer a munie, huh?" Red-Shirt asked Thomas as the others carried the man away. Thomas only nodded in response. "Munies are worth a crapload of money nowadays. Wonder how much I could get for you and the others."

Thomas frowned. Whatever. As he had mentioned before, he didn't care.

Until he left the diner and approached followed Red-Shirt to his truck outside. He climbed into the passenger seat and waiting for Red Shirt to go around the other side.

There was rustling and grunting from the back seat. It sounded as though someone was trying to grab his attention. Thomas looked in the rearview mirror and was utterly shocked at what he saw.

You, kneeling down on the ground, arms bound behind your back, with duct tape covering your mouth. Your eyes were desperate and pained. However, what set him on edge was how utterly disheveled you appeared. Your hair was messy, your face was red and covered in dried tears and blood.

"Y/N?" He gasped. Red Shirt opened the door again.

"You two know each other? She got a little rebellious so I had to tie her up and whatnot. Don't worry 'bout that, though. You probably won't end up like her." He explained, holding Thomas's door open. "That is, of course, unless you plan on trying to run."

Newt: (TDC) He sat on his bed, pondering how he had turned so malevolent in just a matter of days. How long had they left him alone in this berg?

His mind drifted to you as he viewed the image of you and him that had been taken during your time in the scorch with an old camera. You insisted on taking dozens of pictures, and this particular one was a selfie of the two of you. He picked up the full stack of images and flipped through them as he thought of what he considered "the good old days" when your biggest concerns were staying inside the glade, let alone trying to avoid turning into a monster.

"Who are you?!" A man asked as he turned the corner into Newt's room. He stood quickly.

"Oh, um.... I'm just staying here awhile. My friends..." he started, but the man was already walking over to the bed and snatched a picture from Newt's hand. He studied it inquisitively.

"Huh. You know this chick?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. Newt glared at him.

"She's my bloody girlfriend. Do you know her?" He snarled. The man nodded, a smirk on his face.

"I do, actually. I've gotten to know her pretty well. In fact, she's mentioned to me an 'unimmune boyfriend in a disclosed location.'"

"Why would she tell you that?" Newt growled as the man's smile grew.

"We had a little interrogation." The man started. Newt's face twisted with rage. Then the guy's face turned serious. "But to me, you don't just seem unimmune." He said, grabbing hold of Newt's arm. He tried in vain to twist out of the man's grip. "You seem like an actual crank. You're showing all the signs. So here's my suggestion; I take you to live with your kind." He insisted.