Back to Square One

1.

A/N: Hi!! This is Madeline and I's first story together, so we're pretty pumped. But I hope you guys enjoy, and if not, then I don't know, don't I guess. Thanks so much for reading!!!

The presence of the sun created a soft haze through the morning dew, casting itself recklessly along the shoreline and between the sharp crevices of tree branches and mountain valleys. A subtle breeze blew off of the waves and into the cracks of the shelter that had been so meticulously designed by the skilled hands of the Survivors.

Sharply cut black hair stirred softly from beneath the thin blanket that covered the bed. Minho woke slowly, eyes adjusting to the new light, and looked at his surroundings. The bed next to his was left disheveled and empty, and so he rose from the calming warmth of the blankets in search of his best friend.

Thomas sat idly on the sand, enjoying the serenity of the sun rising and the cool breeze fanning across his face. He was the only one awake; it had been this way for over an hour. He did this often, it was peaceful, and when he was alone he could get his emotions out without anyone seeing him.

The rest of them didn't need to know about the faded lines on his inner wrist from the months after the incident, or how, like Newt, he had considered much more cynical answers. Instead he contained himself inside, relying on morning sunsets to keep his mind occupied.

The soft padding of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and he turned around to see who they had belonged to. Minho sat gently beside him, but didn't speak; perhaps waiting for the acknowledgement of the quiet boy beside him.

When he didn't start however, Minho resorted to a more direct approach. He didn't really know how to speak to Thomas after the incident, and much less how to deal with his own emotions.

Almost cautiously Minho spoke, "You know it wasn't your fault right. There was no way to save them."

Thomas blinked casually taking in the words tossed in his direction.

"I know." he replied curtly, unconvincingly.

"Thomas you can't blame their deaths on yourself. Newt was too far gone, and Teresa..." he was cut off.

"I know." The brown haired boy stated more bluntly this time, almost annoyed. He didn't want to be reminded; their deaths were a year ago now and they still consumed his mind.

"You have to let it go eventually or you'll never be able to live with yourself," Minho stated a little sharper, frustrated at the lack of response he was receiving from the mess of a boy he was sitting next to.

"Look, Minho. Newt died because of me. Teresa died because of me. I'm tired of people dying just because I'm 'special' or a freaking savior or whatever it is they want me to be. I pulled the trigger that put that bullet right between Newt's eyes, and Teresa was only in that position in the first place because she was helping me. So please, comfort me, give me pity, I don't care. But don't tell me it's not my fault because it damn sure seems to be."

Minho was taken aback by his sudden outburst, but it didn't phase him as much as he thought Thomas wanted it to.

"Okay, fine it's all your fault," he tried another tactic. "You killed Teresa and Newt and Alby and Chuck and the rest of the shucking world. But beating yourself up about it, is never gonna bring them back, so get out of your head for a minute and realize that what you're doing to yourself..." he grabbed Thomas's wrist and gestured to the scars hidden underneath his sleeve, "isn't helping anyone."

It was quiet for a minute, the only exception was the sudden movements of waves crashing into the sand. Thomas felt a warm tear trail down his face, instantly cooled by the touch of the wind. He tried carelessly to push it away, but Minho had learned observance through his time in the maze, and he was quick to notice it.

"Thomas... you have a group of people here who admire you, a girl who's madly in love with you, and me, you're best friend in the entire world!" he joked cracking a smile. "You've lost a lot, but sometimes it's important to remember what you have in front of you."

Thomas looked up at Minho, a few more tears had collected in his eyelashes.

"Thank you, Minho. You're right, I..." he stopped suddenly. His brown eyes trailed slightly past Minho, along the horizon of trees in the distance. His abrupt finish sparked curiosity in Minho, and he turned around to see what Thomas was looking at.

"What?" He asked concerned.

"Nothing, I just thought that I... never mind," he finished shaking his head. It wasn't worth sharing. Thomas knew what he saw, a small flash of green in the corner of his eye; but with his constant mental state and the sun reflecting off of the water, he couldn't be sure.

The sun was almost completely above the water line by now, and so Thomas stood up gently. Minho shook off the boy's flakey behavior and stood up along side him.

"I know you don't think you need it, but talk to someone sometimes, please. I'll always be here, and I know for a fact that Brenda wouldn't mind knowing why you're always such a shucking mess," he chuckled jokingly, giving Thomas's shoulder a small shove.

Thomas let out a small, genuine laugh, "Thanks Minho."

The two of them walked side by side up the beach as the sun rose farther across the horizon. The huts which were previously desolate and quiet had a new buzz of life as people began waking up with the morning sky.

"I'll catch you later," Minho patted Thomas's shoulder, before running off in the direction of the food hut.

"Hey greenie," Gally called in Thomas's direction, which he returned with an acknowledging nod. The two of them had somehow mended the destructive relationship that they had formed over the years.

"Hey Gally," he replied; there talk was simple and short, but for them it was enough.

Before he could take another step, a pair of warm arms wrapped around his torso gently.

"Hi," he smiled genuinely, turning around to greet her.

"Hi," Brenda spoke sweetly. She paused for a minute, taking in the rough appearance of the boy in front of her, frowning softly.

"What's wrong?"

He showed no obvious signs of distress, except maybe for a slight red under his eyes, but nothing noticeable. But she somehow noticed how his smile was a centimeter fake, and his eyes were a bit darker.

"I just needed to sit and think for a little bit." He replied honestly, although he was sure she already knew his answer.

"Are you okay?"

He glanced towards the rock that stood in the center of the camp, and at Newt's name which sat slightly up and to the right of Teresa's. The sun finally made its way off the water and cast a small shadow on the ground under the rock. He reached down to grab at the small pendant that lay calmly on his neck and smiled, the most true smile he had worn in months.

"I will be, yeah."

He pulled her in for a hug, as they watched the sun raise, allowing the calm serenity to wash between them.