1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 41

My eyes never left his exhausted body. His hands had fallen over his aching face while the sweat continued to roll from his forehead.

I couldn't comprehend any words to leave my mouth as I placed my back against the cool concrete wall. My shoes scuffled against the dusty floor, loud enough for Thomas to hear. Yet as my eyes studied him, his hands never left his face and his mind seemed to be whisked away.

I released a tense breath of air as I crossed my arms, words tumbling around my head as I tried to create my first sentence.

It was quiet for a few moments as I collected my thoughts. My eyes rolled over Thomas' limp figure, my heart jumping into my throat as words finally tumbled out unconsciously.

"The moment you ran down those stairs, I thought you were going t'kill me." Honesty fell from my lips and clattered to the dusty floor, startling the exhausted boy out of his groggy position.

His entire body lurched forwards as he acknowledged my presence, anxiety visibly gripping his skin. Yet, the moment his eyes landed on me, his face dropped in awe. Light brown eyes skittered across my tensed form, an intense amount of relief pouring from his expression as he studied my crossed arms and faux relaxation.

"Ame." My name left Thomas' lips like smoke from a cigarette.

My muscles squeezed while mixed emotions rained across my poor heart. I swallowed my vulnerable sensation, feeling curiosity and concern powder my expression.

"You looked like Ben. Pasty and sick. Crazy. You looked crazy," I gulped, moving my eyes to the floor and pushing myself off the wall, "You flew down the stairs like you had wings before latching yourself onto me."

His breathing was ragged as Thomas squinted to understand my words. It settled in like snow and I saw fear shoot through his eyes like an arrow.

"Ame. Oh god, Ame. Did-did I hurt you?" Thomas croaked out, his apologetic eyes scouring my body for injuries inflicted by him.

"I'm okay. You didn't hurt me. But you weren't exactly the bearer of good news, either." I pursed my lips together, refusing to meet the hazel eyes that made me feel like I was home.

"I-I don't remember waking up. What happened?" Thomas spoke frantically, his quick heart appearing through his voice.

I don't remember how tears began to form or why my heart began to ache with the hope that maybe I could have a family, but the moment my voice cracked, begging the question that had plagued me for hours, I knew my strong facade would soon finally crumble.

"Is it true?" I asked.

Thomas fell silent, his lips parting as his eyes flickered around the room, shifting through the multiple memories he more-than-likely attained. Pain suddenly took over his expression, as his new memories settled into his thoughts.

"Which one?" Thomas nearly whispered out, referring to which memory he exposed to me.

Sudden emotion overcame me. I tilted my chin up in an attempt to keep my unwanted tears from falling, feeling my lips begin to quiver. I wanted Thomas to be my brother. I wanted this to be real so bad. I just wanted one piece of home. I want something of home to hang on to in case I really did die here. So my last few seconds aren't spent thinking of the family I don't remember.

The distance between Thomas and I began to itch the wrong way like it was a symbol of my reach from knowing. My feet moved without my approval but I didn't resent it either. I skittered next to his sleeping bag, reluctantly meeting his sorrowful brown eyes. My legs bent as I kneeled beside him, my pant legs gathering dust along the knees as I placed my butt between my two feet. The nerves in my neck ticked as the need to know nearly made me vomit the million dollar question. Mumbles came out at first as my brain tested my mouth, as if asking my body if I was ready to take the news.