TW! Suicidal thoughts, graphic descriptions of a seizure.
"Cold sheets, oh, where's my love?
I am searching high, I'm searching low, in the night
Does he know that we bleed the same?
Don't wanna cry but I break that way"
Where's my love – SYML
▰▱▰▱▰▱
Days passed, weeks passed, months passed. And now he definitely had lost track of time a while ago.
His mind was numb, his body numb, his emotions numb. Numb ... Numb ... Numb.
He can't find Newt, where was Newt.
No.
Where was himself, he couldn't find himself.
He was long gone since the night everything went to shit.
He was not ending his life just because there was that tiny spark of hope inside him. That maybe, maybe, they'll find each other again, and leave this place together. But it was a really tiny spark.
His rounds of experimentation had ended for the day, really the only comforting feeling he had nowadays. He could almost enjoy it if it wasn't of how sick his body felt, or how unfamiliar his own mind was to him.
He has another room now, more secured, tons of cameras on his hallway (Or the entire floor better said), the door is locked while he is inside, and the meals are passed through a small hole flush with the floor. It's so lonely here.
As soon as he stepped inside the bedroom, or cell as it's the best term to use, he collapsed on the hard, uncomfortable mattress, letting out a strained sigh. He was growing a headache already, today had been really, really hard. It wasn't so different to the others, always the same kind of simulations, but he just didn't feel good. He didn't like to think that while he was reviving some painful moment of his life made a hundred times more painful, a machine was drawing out his blood, only to put it back on but without the components they needed to investigate. Pretty much like dialysis, but instead your mind is in the worst place imaginable.
He curled up on his side, shivering while he kept his arms close to his chest in an attempt to keep a little warmth on his hands. He had blankets, but he was extremely exhausted to approach them to his freezing body.
He wondered what Newt was doing now, if he was alive even. He asked himself if they were treating him well, unlike him. He wished he wasn't suffering as much as he was.
Tears welled up in his eyes and he squeezed them shut to let them fall across his pale cheeks, as he embraced himself as the only form of comfort he had right now. His thoughts had already taken a dark path a while ago, making him consider things he didn't want to consider. He was a mess.
Suddenly a little light above the door turned on, indicating dinner time, and a tray of food was delivered through the floor. He watched the contents with disgust, he didn't want to eat right now. He hadn't eaten anything the last couple of days really, nothing settled fine in his stomach, and all his appetite was gone. It wasn't a good sign, considering his weight was already under the healthy line before the simulations, and now it was at an extreme level. He still found it very hard to care.
What he did find, in a miracle, was the willpower and the strength to push himself up. So he began to shakily walk towards the food and grabbed the tray. Then, he walked to the bathroom and threw the contents on the toilet, flushing it except the glass of juice. They'd already found out he was skipping his meals and they didn't take it well, so at least now he could return an empty tray.
On his way back he spotted the mirror, or what was left of it. The truth was that he had punched it a couple of days ago, in an outburst of rage, and now he could see his reflection in a thousand of tiny little pieces. Some parts stayed stuck hardly on the frame, while others were hanging loosely. He wondered how long they were gonna last. How long he was gonna last.
He lifted up one of the fragments, and clutched it slightly with one hand, perfectly knowing that if he clutched only a bit harder he was going to draw out blood. He contemplated the shard of glass deeply, drooping to the floor and resting his back against the wall, his knees brought closer to his chest.
He stared so fondly to the almost magical object that his eyes were crossed, and his mind was anywhere but there. It only takes one little cut, and a life of complete serenity, far from WCKD, far from the tests, a whole new paradise. Who was he kidding? He hasn't brought himself to do it yet, the blond boy popping into his thoughts every time it crossed his mind. He couldn't leave Newt behind. Maybe everything wasn't lost. Or maybe everything had gotten lost with him.
▰▱▰▱▰▱
He was between lucidity and unconsciousness when something happened. Something that hadn't happened in a long time. The lock of the door clicked open, and a couple of minutes later the door opened as well. He barely raised his head from the pillow when a figure was standing outside his room in the dark, well, more like sitting. He immediately recognized.
"Huh?" He mumbled confused, he hadn't seen the woman since that night either. So how could she appear right now?
"Hello, Thomas" Doctor Paige spoke neutral as always, wheeling herself inside the room and closing the door delicately to make the least noise possible while he stretched an arm to turn on a small lamp on his nightstand.
Other than that, he didn't move more, he just lied there on his back staring at her with a big frown on his face. There were a lot of questions rolling around his head now that he didn't know where to start.
"I brought you something" She said reaching to something she was holding on her thighs Thomas hadn't noticed before. A tray with more food.
"You can't fool me. I know you well" Her tone was angry, but he caught a glimpse of sympathy inside it, masked with professionalism and bossiness.
He sighed tiredly, difficultly propping onto his elbows to put himself in a more sitting position, a new trembling appearing when the blanket fell off his shoulders.
"What are you doing here?" He cracked, once he was sitting and Doctor Paige helped him putting a couple of pillows behind his back, like a caring mother looking after her sick child.
Was he sick?
"Apart from getting you to eat a bit more, I came to check"
"Yeah, but.... why? You didn't bother before, and where's Newt?" He asked the second question desperately but with a bit of annoyance in his tone, watching as Paige rested the tray now on his thighs against his will.
"One thing at a time. If you don't eat, I won't answer"
Thomas breathed out angrily, watching repulsively the food, the nauseating feeling already returning to his insides.
"I can't"
His voice cracked.
"I know" She answered. "Take it easy, you don't have to eat it all"
He turned his sight back to the meal, a jam and cheese sandwich cut in little pieces laid there ready to be eaten. But he was the one not ready to eat it. His mind came back to Newt again, and he shakily grabbed one portion. With a tight chest, he propped it into his mouth, he wanted the answers, so he continued chewing it even when it was already ready to pass. It tasted like cardboard in his tongue, he found no flavor. His taste buds completely messed up. Eventually, he took a deep breath though his mouth closing his eyes and swallowed it along with the lump in his throat.
"That's it, good job" She grinned handing him another glass of apple juice, which he took it and drank a little with barely audible strained sounds.
"Mr. Newton is fine. He's still at the same room, and he's sticking to the same routine as always if that's what you want to know. They take blood samples once in a while, but they are not bothering him"
Thomas let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, looking back at the food on his legs. It was a total relief. He unstably took another piece of sandwich between his thumb and index finger, staring at it insecure before placing it in his mouth again with effort. His stomach having an oddly feeling of emptiness, starting to feel the hunger.
Doctor Paige watched him until he swallowed it down and handed him the glass again so he could drink more.
"I- I want to see him" He spoke trembling, already scared for the answer.
"It's not possible I'm sorry. You have to understand, I can't help you anymore, I don't have the same reputation as I used to. If they find out about what I did for you, worse things will happen. They don't even know I'm here. You boys are on your own now" She spoke with a sadness Thomas could notice easily. His own eyes were glassy, blinking the unshed tears away so he wouldn't start crying helplessly.
"I.... I understand" It cost him to say it, but he really did.
"There's another thing you may want to know. Two days ago one of the soldiers meeting point was attacked, they took everything, including the people. We don't know who they were but I'm sure we share the same hypothesis".
Thomas' eyes widened, and he sucked in a labored breath. This was the first sign of hope someone had ever given to him in months. He didn't want to make his head already, but it was still a sign.
"Do you think-" He trailed off mid-sentence, looking down, and thoughts racing a thousand miles per hour.
"It could be nothing, so don't fill yourself with too much hope, okay? I just wanted you to know. The sensors haven't detect another movement in our perimeter" She explained, his finger pointing at the sandwich again with raised eyebrows, "Come on, a little more?"
He heard her encourages more confused than ever. Finally, he managed a couple of more bites enough to reach half of the sandwich, before he had to let go feeling like puking all out at the end. However, Doctor Paige seemed satisfied with that.
"Good, job" She passed him the last of the juice, "Do you know if you have something this week?"
She was talking about a change on the round of tests. A new form of torture maybe.
"Um, they are taking my bone marrow tomorrow, I think" He said sheepishly. He remembered Randall mentioning something about that yesterday.
"Alright" She nodded, "Good thing you ate today, then. You need strength"
Thomas lifted the corner of his lips a little bit, nodding back as Ava Paige prepared herself to leave the room, taking the half empty tray with her. He said goodbye and turned to his side facing the wall, already laying again. He closed his eyes hoping tomorrow wouldn't be bad.
▰▱▰▱▰▱
It turned out that it wasn't super bad. They had laid him on his side on an operating table and numb his back to insert a large needle that was going to extract what they needed. He just slept through the whole day after that, curled up in fetal position. Due to they had taken his bone marrow, he didn't have any simulation that day, nor the next one, for the first time in a long time.
He had felt pretty tired and weak for a week, but that day he couldn't even lift a finger without panting in exhaustion. He wondered what it would've been of him if he didn't have that meal with Ava Paige the night before, maybe he wouldn't have survived, because his body had felt pretty much like death.
He felt only a little pain, more like a dull ache on his lumbar area as if the spot was bruised, it was bearable considering what he had been through lately. The doctors and scientists did checkups to corroborate everything was perfect and that there was no trace of infection two days after the procedure, and declared him free to continue with the simulations. For them? It was good news. For him? Not so good. He'd had only two days before everything began again. If the situation was different right now, he would use it to visit Newt, and to be with him. His heart ached.
He woke up this morning, weeks later, maybe a month, and he followed the routine, preparing himself to the day. Nothing important had happened since then, Ava hadn't showed up again, WCKD was still torturing him, and his concern for Newt was still constant.
He opted to take a shower before starting, and stood on the cubicle with trembling limbs but managed to stay on his feet thankfully. His hair had been all greasy and it was starting to feel unpleasant.
They delivered the breakfast as always, and he sat at his bed contemplating the eggs and toast for long minutes before he could manage to pass just under half of the contents. He had figured, that if he ate, his body would feel better especially after simulations and so it was easier for the pain. It was hard at the beginning, his stomach rejected anything he was consuming, but little by little he began to eat again.
He finished putting a WCKD's zip up hoodie over his white tee shirt and tied his shoes. His body was working automatically, remembering every step of the routine and performing them like a machine.
The two usual guards unlocked the door after that to take him to the medical wing. He walked normally through the hallways with his head down, the guards' hands grazing his arms so they would be able to react fastly if he did something stupid. He had never tried to run, so why the extreme caution?
The way was a blur and he found himself already walking through the white hallways of the labs, it was always the same route, so that's why his head raised as they took a right instead of a left turn.
He frowned looking at the guards from over his shoulder, they seemed to know what they were doing so he decided to continue wordlessly guessing he would find the answers soon.
They reached another section of the medical wing he had known. From what he stared a month ago when he was here, there were operating rooms and tools for all kind of procedures here. He stepped into one of them, but kind of from the outside. He was staring at the empty table from behind a large window. Very similar to the day he found out Newt was still alive.
Newt...
Did this have to do with him?
They made him sit in a chair, telling him to make himself comfortable without needing to talk, he understood the message.
Out of nowhere Randall appeared in front of him, but not covering the view of the window, and they made a fulminant eye contact like always. It had been like this since the beginning, they didn't get along very well.
"Thomas" The man spoke firmly, with his arms crossed and nodded his head.
"Randall" Thomas mimicked his actions and gestured with the only goal of irritate him. He may not be the same as before, but he could still threaten people if he wanted.
"Always so friendly" Randall said sarcastically, which made him roll his eyes annoyed. "Today is a very special day, you know? And we didn't want you to miss it"
Thomas shifted on his spot, making himself more comfortable to hear and not saying anything so the Chancellor could continue talking.
"I feel honored to tell you we may have reached a very important goal here. Your bone marrow ended being the final element." He slowly took out a notepad from the inside of his gown and turned the screen on to show some weird information he tried to understand.
"As you can see here, the virus deactivated by your immunity system was the best results we had. Let me present you the first successful subject... " He pointed at a girl, probably in her mid-thirties, sitting on a hospital bed, looking calm. "This was subject 11 of the flare-virus-vaccine-trials, twenty four hours after first dose." He fasted forward the video and stopped it in another record, "And this was her after second dose a week later."
The woman looked the same, she was in the same position as well. But the change of clothes and hairstyle were evidence of the gap of time between the videos.
"This was her three days after exposure to the flare virus and with forced increased brain activity" Randall fasted forward the recording a little bit more, showing the same woman. Same position. Same healthy state.
Thomas opened his mouth slightly and sucked a deep breath.
"Subject 11 wasn't immune before the vaccine"
Randall looked proud, his face relaxed without any kind of strain.
"Does.... Does that mean you don't need me anymore?" He stuttered at first but managed to keep it together. Curiosity killing him, wondering if he could actually be free with Newt again.
"Unfortunately, no. You see.... " Randall changed his tone to something more mean and mischievously. Thomas' stomach dropped. "Aside for the fact that we can't create it by ourselves yet, you did things Thomas. You did things, then and there. It is so hard to let you go" Randall faked a sympathy turning it into a sickly expression.
"I haven't even told you why you're here yet" Randal spoke up, turning around towards the window, and pressing the button of the intercom. "Bring him in"
Thomas immediately understood and his eyes widened in pure terror. His chest tightened at the sight in front of him. Another two guards were dragging Newt inside the room from the other side of the window, dressed in those funny green suits with huge masks. The blond looked burning in rage, supporting an angry purple eye and a withering look. Thomas' breath was caught in his throat, and his heart was beating so fast inside his ribcage.
"What are you gonna do with him? Let him go" Thomas spoke warningly, glaring at Randall with nothing more than darkness inside his eyes, trying to sound threatening. Doctor Paige had assured him, she had assured him they weren't doing anything with Newt.
"Oh no, we can't do that. Mr. Newton here has done a lot of bad things. So we had the amazing idea of including him to our test subjects" Randall laughed dryly, enjoying the anger Thomas was feeling in his bones, "We'll see if he thinks twice before taking you to crazy trips around the building in the middle of the night"
"Don't touch him!" Thomas yelled willed to launch towards Randall but he was immediately held down by two pair of strong arms behind him, forced him to stay on his seat. He struggled without success.
"You don't want to do that. Your little boyfriend is in the middle after all" Randall approached threatening, crouching so he was face to face against him.
Thomas fought more, wanting to at least use his head as a weapon, but Randall jumped back a little bit before their heads could collide together. Then, he charged a hard punch in the middle of his stomach, and his teeth clenched painfully.
"Are you gonna fight again?" Randall spoke awfully serious.
Thomas stopped staring at him and instead led his eyes back to the window, now seeing Newt had noticed his presence as well. The blond looked terrified, angry, and shocked at the same time, Thomas thought he could see him mumble a low 'Tommy' he couldn't hear it because no one was pressing the button of the intercom. Now the only thing he was fighting were tears.
"Mr. Newton will give the honors to test the effectiveness first made vaccine, and you will give the honors to watch it." Randall informed. "Prepare the exposure, please" He order the last thing through the intercom.
"No! Don't, do it!" Thomas began to struggle again but he couldn't get free from the strong grips. He was being forced to watch helplessly how another suit-dressed doctor inserted a dark greyish fluid painfully in the forearm Newt was infected the first time. It was happening again. It was happening and he was allowing it.
Newt stared terrified as the liquid entered roughly his system, biting back a sound of discomfort as he focused on Tommy fighting on the other side of the window. They had been injecting him with things the last days, and it was all very confusing. He had the idea it was something bad but he still couldn't place what they were doing to him and why Tommy seemed too affected by it.
Everything looked the same once the needle exited his skin, he could see well, hear well, and breathe well; nothing out of normal. There was this slight buzz inside his brain, something bothering and fighting its way out. But he guessed it was okay, after all the guards behind him had let him go to stand in the middle of the room in sight of everyone.
He looked at the people staring on the other side, mouth open and expectant expressions. He focused on Tommy, same energy as the others, he was mad at Tommy. He had let him alone after that night, they were supposed to stay together till the end, and he had left him. Why was he mad at Tommy?
Thomas' eyes traveled down with a horrified look on his face, he was the one scared? Newt had been the one injected with weird things and now left standing so everyone could see him. There was a sharp sting coming from were Thomas' eyes were looked, right in his forearm.
Right were the needle had come out a couple of minutes ago, there was a black spot and black veins popping out around it, creeping up the whole limb like tiny snakes. It hurt, burned even. The pain increased to an unbearable level and his mouth clenched in a failed attempt to hold a hiss. His face scrunched and a grunt escaped his mouth as he couldn't help but drop to his knees suffering.
Thomas stared while screaming Newt's name at the same time the blond collapsed and the guards behind struggled to keep him still. Now real tears were blurring his vision and his heart hurt with an emotional pain. He stared helplessly how Newt turned into a completely different person, launching towards the people around him like a past gone crank. Because he was a past gone crank. The flare had made its effect so quickly that it didn't leave time for Newt to try to fight it, or to the 'vaccine' inserted in the last days.
The doctor took out another syringe and plugged it in Newt's leg, the blond lost consciousness attacking the people around till the last second of lucidness.
"Guess it didn't work. We'll have to keep trying" Randall mumbled looking down at his notepad and writing a few things with a defeated, yet not sympathetic tone.
"You're a monster" Thomas' face darkened as he gave a dead glare to Randall. His expression blank and there was a few tears left staining his cheeks, but no more coming out of his eyes.
"No more than you're"
"Newt didn't do anything wrong" His voice broke, an exasperate tone in his words.
"That's where you aren't right. Maybe he didn't do anything to us. The only thing he did wrong was following you in the first place. It all leads to now" Randall let out a guiltless smirk, without being aware of the weight those words brought with them as soon as they escaped his mouth.
Thomas swallowed a thick lump, and the tears began to fall again. He tried to ignore the statement as much as he could, and tried to find the littlest moment of vulnerability in the guards behind. That was when he got free of the grip and jumped towards Randall, delivering a blood-drawing punch on the man's jaw, what he had wanted to do since he met him.
Randall stumbled back dropping the note pad on his way, and Thomas took advantage of that to throw another punch his face. This time making his nose bleed and giving him a sickening pleasant feeling that almost made him smile.
"Hold him for the love of god!" Randall yelled to his people trying to defend himself from him.
Seconds later the strong arms from the guards were holding him again despite his struggles to break free and punch Randall again.
"Take him to his room!" Randall ordered again clearly irritated and furious. Thomas was satisfied with that as the guards made his job without previously spit one last sentence.
"That was for Newt"
▰▱▰▱▰▱
They had dropped him in his room about two hours ago. Clearly not happy with the previous events, but it was WCKD after all. He didn't care in being nice to them.
Now the only thing he was worry about was Newt. Wondering how he is doing right now, if they have injected him with the serum so he was rid of the flare again, or if his actions will have any kind of consequences in him.
His leg bounced up and down erratically, a clear sign of his anxious demeanor. He knew he had to wait for something, they wouldn't have let him go that easily. Somehow he was starting to regret his actions. Because, as much as he enjoyed it, he was alone right now. Alone against a whole organization, and the person he cared the most in the middle of it. His defenses dropped abruptly, and a cold tremor traveled through his skin as soon as the door unlocked.
Randall and his minions walked into the room, the man himself supporting a piece of cotton in both of his nostrils already stained with dry blood. It was clear that his expression didn't show a hint of amusement in it, the usual smirk wasn't present even. It was concerning, considering what was waiting for Thomas.
"I hope you reconsidered what you've done" Randall stated completely serious, Thomas tried to hide so hard how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down, "But in case you haven't yet, I'm here to remember it to you"
His face stayed neutral despite the guards moving towards him, just to hold him by his shoulders again and dragged him out of bed directly to the cold cement floor. He dropped with a thump now allowing them to see a bit of fear in his eyes, more involuntary than ever, he just couldn't help it.
The first kick was threw right on his right side. It was curt, short, but it didn't change the jolt of pain that brought to his entire ribcage. He grunted as he turned to lay on his left side with all the air knocked out of his lungs. The second kick was right in the middle of his stomach, just like all the other hits he had received since he arrived this shucking building. This time it was accompanied by a punch on his face as his head hit the floor from the other side. He moaned when bile threatened to come out.
More kicks and more punches came. More on his torso, others on his face. And the smirk on Randall's face came back, looking down at him satisfied with the pattern of bruises his guards were leaving on his torso and face.
After one kick on his ribs particularly hard they seemed to have completed their goal, and hit him on the face one more time before leaving the room closing the door with a loud boom.
They left him there curled up into a ball in the floor against one of the walls. His breathing coming out more like a wheezing as the hacking sound of wet coughs attacked what was left of his beaten up body. He didn't dare to move, fearing that if he did that all his healthy bones would break finally. He focused on the air entering to his system, attempting to make it enter slower so it could hurt less. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to see Newt and fall asleep in his arms just like that night. Being physically and mentally drained didn't feel well without him here.
He let out one last cough, spitting droplets of blood next to him before he let the darkness consume him. He didn't want to wake up the next morning, or any other morning. He wanted to die.
▰▱▰▱▰▱
Sadly he woke up the next morning.
It wasn't nice. It was the exact opposite. His whole body screamed in pain. His injuries and the hard position he had passed out in didn't make a good combination. They had delivered the breakfast as always anyways, and then they had come for him as if nothing happened the night before. Completely ignoring the state he was in, or that he could collapse at any second.
That was another set of weeks ago.
The routine didn't stop because of that, no, it kept being painfully constant. He had healed most of his bruises. Because it was the only thing he could do. Heal physically, but not psychologically.
No, he hadn't heard of Newt one more time. Neither Doctor Paige, nor another attack to WCKD. The days came back to what they were, slow and torturous. The nights lonely. The mornings depressing. The tests unbearable.
It was like a loop. No matter what he did, it always came back to the same place. Always leaving him alone, always bringing Newt more pain. Randall was right after all. It was his fault. The only thing Newt did wrong was trust in him, follow him to an imminent suffering. Because it was all he brought to the people around him. The people he cared somehow ended being either hurt or dead. And he didn't know what he was doing wrong.
He allowed himself being hooked to the simulator by the scientists. At this point he didn't care anymore. He understood the only place where he was useful was here, the only place he deserved to be.
▰▱▰▱▰▱
Doctor Paige entered to the laboratory right on time for when the doctors were starting the machine and Thomas was already prepped.
She watched as the blood began to make its course out of him through the tiny tubes, and then coming back to his system as a little vial was being filled with a blue liquid. He sight was moved back to the boy, slowly staring to hyperventilate in his spot, and the heart monitor next to him going off. He was doing horrible sounds of discomfort, at the point he sounded like he was being choked to dead. His face all sweaty as the grunts turned into loud screams. Tears streaming down his face.
That series of steps happened over and over again, repeating themselves every time the simulation ended, and Randall started it one more time. The man didn't show any hint of sympathy towards what he was doing to the boy, but she did. In the past she had agreed with all this, and more kids had been through it. Maybe she was proud back then, but she wasn't proud anymore, even if this time it was one single person. She had gotten identified with Thomas' way of thinking as the years passed.
Thomas had always been like the son she didn't have. After all, the death of his biological parents wasn't her fault, or WCKD's. What was her fault was all the pain they had brought two all the kids like him, stealing what was left of their childhoods. At first WCKD had the right idea, but the procedures were the cruelest thing someone could do. They were desperate, the world was falling apart, the human race dying out. But it was no excuse.
She had raised this curious kid with a special treatment, different to the others principal candidates. And the kid had confessed her multiple times she was the only person he trusted in there. It ended with a betrayal. She should consider herself the most horrible person in the world.
This was the opportunity to do it right. When she let the two boys, Newt and him, see each other, and gave them all the information she had. It was the least she could do. What she needed and wanted to do was get them out of here.
So now she did the only thing she could do nowadays. Stare from the outside. Thomas sounded more distressed as minutes passed, and his levels were spiking with each simulation. This wasn't right. None of it was right.
The doctor monitoring was looking at Randall at the end of every round, but the Chancellor kept ordering to continue. Randall seemed to live in his own world, in which only his ideas counted. He seemed to think everything and everyone circled around him and his twisted mind. She despised the man.
The machines inside the room were beeping like crazy, Randall examined the results coming from the extracted elements while the other doctor was in charge of monitoring Thomas' body, whose levels continued being troubled. Paige stared worried from the window. It hadn't happened with Minho the last time, or with Thomas those previous simulations. The machine wasn't supposed to affect physically, it only worked on the mental area, but Thomas was currently being the exception.
Paige stared at his blood pressure on the monitor, showing a level of 150/90 mmHg and rising dangerously. His heart rate was increasing as well, but the oxygen saturation was coming down. She pressed the button of the intercom.
"Dr. Spilker, subject is hypertensive and showing signs of tachycardia. I suggest to stop the simulation immediately" She spoke as calmly possible, but with a bit of alarm in her voice.
"It's Chancellor Spilker to you, Doctor Paige." Randall spoke without paying attention to the rest. He eyed Thomas' form for a moment but coming back to his notepad again, "Continue the simulation, the extraction is not finished yet" He ordered to the other doctor.
Ava Paige sighed frustrated and she anxiously watched the blood pressure rise to 160/100 mmHg one more time, her chest tightening concerned.
"Chancellor Spilker, subject is in risk of a stroke right now!"
She raised her voice angrily and Randall didn't take it well at all.
"Get her out of the room!" Randall snapped the orders.
Two guards approached to her, and just when they were about to escort her outside, another machine went off. She watched the destination of the alarm, and suddenly Thomas' body went limp inside the machine holding him, no more screaming, no more panting. Just for a few seconds, because the next thing they knew, he took a sharp intake of breath and all his limbs began to tremble as if he was shot with an invisible taser gun.
She immediately wheeled herself to the other side taking advantage of the guards' daze as Thomas' eyes rolled to the back of his head and his breathing turned completely labored. She approached as fast as possible to Randall, who was right in front of the boy.
"Put him down, he's having a seizure!" She ordered completely ignoring the man in charge there, and the rest of the doctors followed her orders guided by their own common sense.
They slowly lowered Thomas down to the floor when was starting to make awful gurgling sounds choking with his own saliva and vomit. The image was dreadful for whoever saw it.
"Roll him on his side" She gave them the instructions firmly and cursing herself for being incapable of helping in the moment. Thomas was still connected to the monitors, so she stared at the screen watching over the numbers. "BP is 180/120, we need to bring it down. Insert an intravenous and push 3 mg of nicardipine. Someone pass an oxygen mask over here"
She spoke with a professional calm and everyone obeyed without hesitating. Randall just stared with an indecipherable expression on his face. Thomas' trembling became more violent and she didn't have other choice but lower herself to the ground as well, despite the discomfort it brought to her spine. She positioned herself behind Thomas' back at the height of his head cautiously placing her hands on his scalp.
"Thomas, hey. Just calm down, you're okay" It wasn't sure he could listen to her, but at least it could be comforting. She eyed the people around her concerned. "It's past the 5 minutes mark, insert a sedative" She ordered looking at a clock on the laboratory wall worried.
One of the other doctors in the scene pushed the drug in the IV and they waited a couple of seconds before Thomas' body stopped shaking and the convulsions finally ended. Ava didn't know what to think at the moment, as she watched Thomas' strained and slow but constant breathing fogging up the mask placed on his nose and mouth.
This is what they were causing. This is what they had always caused. WCKD was supposed to be the source of hope for the world, not the reason of too much pain. They were failing in all the ways possible, and it needed to stop as soon as possible.
▰▱▰▱▰▱
Newt was laying lost in thoughts on his bed when the door opened. He had been in his room since he woke up last week, the pain in his head couldn't be compare with the pain in his heart.
He caught the sight of Doctor Paige wheeling herself to the side of his bed, she always did that. However, today was different, because her face showed another look asides from her usual kindness. He noticed her tired eyes and worried lines of expression. He immediately figured something wasn't right.
"Doctor Paige? What is it? What's wrong?" He didn't try to hide his desperation to know, since she was the one who provided information especially about Tommy.
"Newt, something happened this morning" It was clear for him that she was trying to sound the less alarmed possible, it didn't bring any calmness at all. "It's about Thomas"
▰▱▰▱▰▱
The blond boy followed Doctor Paige though the hallways, despite his legs not being completely strong yet. It didn't matter now, Thomas only mattered.
Ava had told him what happened, and nothing more. Now she was just leading him to the medical wing so he could see him. This sudden allowance made him uncomfortable, because he couldn't see Tommy unless it was hiding from WCKD in the middle of the night, and now they were in front of all WCKD guards and doctors, including Randall Spilker figure.
"He's being monitored 24/7, we have already ran tests and scans to see what could've been the cause. We thankfully discharged the possibility of a stroke or any kind of bleeding in his brain, but we still don't know what's wrong with him" Doctor Paige explained as they moved, nothing really pleasant to his tight chest. She didn't sound desperate but she didn't sound calm either, and he didn't like that.
"I-Is he going to be okay?" He stuttered clearing his throat, which felt awfully dry at the end of the question. He dreaded the answer with all his self.
"We don't know. Not until he wakes up"
"How long 'till he does that?"
Ava didn't answer to his second question, looking anywhere but his eyes. His throat closed with a huge lump he swallowed with difficulty. Because they didn't know if he was going to wake up, Ava didn't need to say it so he could know it.
"Everything shows that he should, but that's the problem with the brain. It's unpredictable" Ava finally spoke after a couple of minutes and steps later, "Randall is quiet, he let me take charge of him for now. He seems like he doesn't know what to do, because he knows this is all his own fault"
Maybe that's the only good thing about all this, if it was a good thing, he thought. But an incident like this had to happen so he could finally reconsider the things he was doing. Because it hadn't been good to anyone here. If Randall tortured Thomas to death he wouldn't have his so dear vaccine he was looking for, and Newt wouldn't have his Tommy either. None of them would win.
When they reached the doors of the room, a cold dreadful sensation creped inside his bones all way through his spine to the back of his head. And when Ava Paige unlocked the card scanner, his heart finally dropped to his stomach.
There was several machines doing all kinds of beeping sounds, with cables, tubes, needles. And in the middle of it all was a pale Thomas lying completely still in the bed. His dark brown hair was contrasting between all the whiteness of the sheets, a nasal cannula decorating his face, and the sight of a broken but beautiful boy for Newt's eyes.
He didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve any of this. He deserved happiness and Newt was afraid he wasn't good enough to give it to him. He wondered if Tommy was resting peacefully in his dreamland, or if he was suffering despite being unconscious. He wondered a lot of things. Because since he woke up in this place also known as hell itself, he questioned how Tommy could have sold himself to this for him. He longed to see him awake, talking to him, with those amber eyes in which he could get lost forever. He guessed this is how Tommy felt in his current place before, when they knew he was going to make it with the serum.
But this time there was no serum, and no diagnosis. They were blind, driving in the middle of the night with no car lights. The horrible silence coming from Tommy was still too loud and almost deafening. Sometimes silence could speak more than a million words. He didn't want the silence now, he wanted the constant noise of the brunet's rough but sweet laugh when they made illegal trips around the building, or when they stayed up till late in the night eating stolen snacks from the kitchen.
"Can... Can I stay with him? For a little while?" His voice was small when he asked Ava Paige next to him. He didn't care if he sounded vulnerable at the moment. She had almost the same expression of sorrow on her face, an expression masked forcefully.
"Yes, you can" She agreed nodding her head and allowed him to sit on a chair next to the bed, the only place free of monitors and gadgets.
He took his cold hand and wrapped it between his own warm ones, hoping a little touch could at least heal the unknown. He wished Tommy would wake up for him, and knew that maybe he'll take some time because he was tired. He didn't blame him, not at all. He understood him. That desire to stop for a minute and catch your breath, to escape the pain for a little before starting again. He had wanted to do that the second he had decided to put a foot on the last city that day despite being sick.
Ava seemed to realize he wanted to be alone, because the next thing he knew, it was just him and Tommy inside the room. His thump traveling random but soft patterns on Tommy's while skin, the path interrupted with the dressing supporting an IV needle. The skin-to-skin contact looked like his only anchor to the real world in this moment. The only indication affirming Tommy was still with him, a little banged up but his heart beating at a constant rhythm.
"Hey, Tommy-boy" He mumbled looking at the other boy's face, searching for any glimpse of lucidness. "You know, I get it that you need your sleep, but you have to come back to us soon, alright? I want it to be the way it was before all this, back in the mountains. You, me and the rest of the boys. Maybe it could be like that someday, but I need you to wake up first. I promise I'll be here."
He waited for a sign, anything. Heart clenching uneasily when nothing happened with that. A hid anger building against his lungs, and a hint of hope drooping one more time. He began to feel useless. He couldn't do anything against it. It was ironic, wasn't it? For a long time he had wanted to be in control of his life, a privilege his generation could hardly get nowadays. But now he was just another helpless soul, incomplete because the other part was slipping away from him right in front of his eyes.
His hands were still attached to Tommy's onewhen he fell asleep in that uncomfortable chair. His head rested on the edge ofthe bed as his legs curled in the seat, it wasn't the most pleasant position,but he was right where he wanted to be now. He needed his rest as well, perhapshe could find Tommy in his dreams, just like he had dreamt tons of nightsbefore.