Newt hadn't expected to meet anyone on his journey forward, just a hot and lonely trek to the middle and beyond. He found the flower, it was fairly obvious with the bright blue clay pot it sat in, burning Newt's hands when he bent down to touch it. Typical, WICKED didn't need them at all, pots don't spontaneously appear in the middle of a scorch, a blue one at that.
It made him wonder if this whole place was fake, like the maze, and it was just one big elaborate set? Was he really on earth right now? Real, earth? If it was, then where were the cities? Buildings? Surely not all of it had been burnt to the ground from heat alone? There wasn't even rubble in the sand, it was just.. sand. Maybe it really did destroy everything, Newt couldn't remember, and he had no way of asking for the answer either. "I'm sorry, Tommy..." He muttered to himself.
It only just occurred to Newt that since the flower was still there, it meant Minho definitely hadn't made it to the centre before him. He hadn't even thought to wait with Thomas, wait for Minho to arrive. When he walked away and again when he saw the flower, he felt a wave of emotion that made him stop care about them, stop thinking about anyone, he wanted to hurt them. It wasn't right, and it made Newt push forward.
The WICKED was on the horizon now, maybe only a day's walk away, and Newt was starting to regret all his choices. He should have carried Thomas on his shoulders, waited for Minho in the shack, convinced Thomas to carry on.. but now he was alone with just a piping hot flower pot in his hands and a half empty rucksack on his back. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he was depressed, maybe if he hadn't left his boyfriend to die alone in a stone shack he wouldn't feel so weighted down with guilt. Newt tried to supress it, but the thoughts kept coming back in.
In the night, Newt could hear the WKD slithering around underground, but his slow pace and lack of speech kept him safe the entire trip. There were bags under his eyes and he kept blinking constantly so that he didn't fall asleep, feeling his limp slowing him down every step, like a weight was tied to it. A weight of guilt, he thought.
Newt was nearing the entrance when he heard someone yell his name from behind. Newt turned round, but he didn't see anyone. Another yell, but still nothing. "Wait up you damn shank!" Newt was starting to wonder if he was going completely crazy, but he stood still anyway. "Your right!"
"I'm right?"
A few moments. "Look to your right! Idiot!" Newt turned and saw a lump approaching, too big to be one person. "Come over here!"
Yep. He was crazy. Newt headed towards the shape, a sudden urge building up inside him that told him to get ready for a fight, get ready for attack. His hands turned into fists and he started running; he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, to fight back this feeling, but when he tripped over a slight bump in the sand the feeling completely disappeared.
Newt just waited for the figure to him instead, two feet appearing in front of his face. "I'd love to offer a hand but they're kind of full, so get up." It was Minho. Newt looked up, a wild look in his eyes. "Are you okay?"
He shut his eyes and shook his head then reopened them, the look gone. "Fine." He stood up and let out a cry of surprise when he realised Minho had Thomas over his shoulders, wrists tied with a rucksack strap to keep them around his neck and Minho had his arms under his thighs to hold him up. "You're..."
"I can't believe you left him behind like that! The shuck is wrong with you!?"
"But.. He's..."
"He's what? I found him barely awake, overheating, dehydrated, half awake in some stone shack! He said you went on ahead! What was going through your mind!?"
"But he said... He told me to leave.. He said he was.." Newt looked defeated.
Minho just rolled his eyes. "You slinthead. Well you got what we came for, let's just go back so Thomas can get some help, and you're clearly not thinking straight but we can talk later."
Newt felt the urge to hit him bubbling up, but he pushed the feelings down and just turned back towards the WICKED complex, opening the door so Minho could carry Thomas inside.
The door swung shut behind them and engulfed the boys in darkness, the sound of a spray being released and Minho began to cough, but he couldn't smell anything. "What on earth is that?" He asked, but Newt didn't answer, he was clutching to his head and hissing through his teeth.
He banged his fist against the wall, taking in deep breaths. He just felt so angry. He wanted to rip at Minho's skin, yell at him to shut up even though he wasn't speaking, he wanted to attack. With a yell, Newt collapsed at Minho's feet, unconscious.
~*~
Thomas was given his tablets again and plenty of rest. WICKED acted shocked to see him in such a state, but Minho didn't trust any of them, especially when they took Newt away from him without a single word and he hadn't seen him since.
After a couple days not being allowed out the infirmary, Thomas got up to walk around, watching others still surviving out in the scorch through computer monitors. He knew exactly where Newt was once he was told what happened, he knew how angry he would be with him, because Thomas knew the truth and he'd kept it a secret from him.
Minho was worried sick, told Newt was in a room all by himself and he wasn't allowed out, and nobody was technically allowed in. When Minho finally found Thomas roaming the corridors, faking a smile at him, Minho grabbed his arm. "Why are you avoiding Newt? He was so worried about you, he doesn't know you're up, and yet here you are perfectly fine wandering around the place watching my friends die!"
"He's going to hate me if I see him; and everyone is fine, only four people have actually been eaten."
Minho looked offended at how lightly he made it sound. "Thanks for the reassurance." Thomas rolled his eyes; what had gotten into him? "Go. You know fully well where Newt is, don't leave him any longer. Alone. Nobody to talk to. Afraid."
"Okay, I'm going!"
Thomas pulled his arm back and turned round, going back the way he came and beyond to where Newt was being held. The darkness WICKED kept mentioning was a sickness that covered the earth, killing well over half the population, infecting those not immune and dooming them to a slow and painful death; unless they found a cure, which WICKED were in the process of hopefully making. Newt, was infected.
Everything the groups had been collected contributed to the cure, which WICKED were almost certain would work and they knew how to make it; but supplies were short and there wasn't a lot they could do about it. That's why some groups were still out there, finding the harder to get ingredients, that were actually in the scorch rather than potted neatly to be picked up and carried. With Thomas so vital to WICKED, his group automatically got the easiest job, and if Minho hadn't carried him back then WICKED would have picked him up. It was explained to him that it was a test of his friends, and Newt's mental state, and he failed the test.
Newt's room. A door in the middle of a wall. Inside were no windows, just white walls, a desk with a chair, and a toilet with a sink in the corner that had a curtain to give him at least a little bit of privacy. "What do you think you're doing?" A woman asked, seeing Thomas reach for the door handle. "Nobody is allowed in."
"I'm seeing Newt." Thomas answered, slightly hoping she'd try to stop him.
"U-uh that's not suggestable.. Even for you Thomas, the darkness is developing and it's made him unstable." Okay, now Thomas really wanted to see him but really didn't want to at the same time.
"I'll take my chances." Newt was going to be so mad, he just hoped he was sane inside.
"Yell if you need help, we're constantly monitoring him." Thomas nodded and opened the door, poking his head in first and hearing some whispers come to a quick halt.
"Newt?" Thomas called, stepping inside and shutting the door.
He was stood in the far left corner, leaning against it and looked down at his hands which were visibly trembling, sometimes twitching. "How nice of you to visit Tommy... How nice of you to lie to me!" His head snapped up, his pupils dilated; an early symptom of darkness. "How nice..."
Darkness wasn't the most creative name in the world, but when the population is falling rapidly in front of your eyes, naming the disease doesn't become a top priority. "I'm really sorry, I knew you'd panic if I told you about the darkness and I thought that if you left me behind then you could get back here quicker! For treatment! WICKED could look after you-"
"Slinthead! Does it look like I'm being bloody looked after!? I'm going shuck crazy in here!" His voice had risen to a shout, his shaking hands curling into shaking fists.
"I can help change that! Not many of the workers are immune like me, they're just afraid. I can explain it, I can explain everything! Caelan? Yeah, he wasn't immune, l-like you, but of course he.. got eaten."
"So I'm the only one? The only one doomed to die!? If I was going to die then why was I put in the maze with you lot!?"
"No, there's others still in the scorch who aren't immune! They're helping get ingredients for the cure! WICKED know how to make it, they just can't get to them all. You weren't the only one in the maze, it was a mixture." Thomas couldn't tell him what really happened; his sister, his parents...
"So what's wrong with sending some bloody helicopters? There's enough technology to make a robot collect it! They created that monster, it's just another sick game! You're talking klunk, Tommy! I want real answers!" He approached Thomas but didn't do anything, standing centimetres apart. "If you don't give me answers then I'm not sorry for my next actions."
Thomas didn't say anything, he brought his hands up and cupped Newt's face. After a few moments Newt softened, his gaze dropped and his fists uncurled. "I made you go on because worrying increases activity in the brain that the darkness feeds on, and I need you to be as safe as possible so that while resources are still being collected I know your brain isn't working overtime. Once it's made, I'm making sure that you're going to be the first one to have it."
"If it takes too long? What going to happen to me?" Newt kept his gaze down, but he put his hands on Thomas' shoulders and let them rest there.
"You're going to lose control of your temper, you won't be aware of your actions. It's not something that's so easily repressed, it's going to keep bubbling up time and time again until it becomes stronger than you."
"Then I shouldn't suppress it? Shouldn't try and stay myself?"
"No, that's giving up, but I'm telling you what happens to others.. to my dad." Newt frowned, wondering about his own parents. "You lose yourself, your pupils dilate until your iris is gone and then your white goes black; you get angry, you want to scream at nothing, it doesn't need a trigger. Then your skin changes, it'll blister and bleed, and it's going to be really painful. People tend to lose their minds and that point, either out of pain or panic; and if you don't kill yourself, then your mind is taken over by the darkness and you're turned into some violent zombie. You just wander around covered in veins and blisters, your only thoughts being to kill anything that moves."
Newt tightened his grip and rested his forehead near Thomas' collarbone. "Am I going to blister soon?"
"No.." Thomas put his arms round Newt's waist in a loose hug. "Not for a while, if you stay like this you'll slow down how quickly it spreads. The more you worry, the more it spreads. You're still in control of your anger, mostly, and your eyes are only a little dilated.. You'll be okay..." He rested his cheek on Newt's head, tightening the hug. "I'm not going to let you die, I promise."
They were quiet for a little while, Newt taking some comfort in the embrace. He'd been craving it for so long. "Wait.." He lifted his head. "In the shack, you warned me about trusting Minho, the things in our heads.. What was that all about?"
"That's to come later, in the next trial, but don't worry it's not for a good while. Maybe it won't even happen, I'm not sure. Just remember to only trust who has their memories back, they can't be controlled."
"Then how do I know it's not just WICKED making me cranky?"
"You'd know, and so would I. It feels completely different." Thomas kissed his forehead, lingering for a couple seconds. "Don't think about it, just think about us. I'll get you out this room," he was whispering now, "you'll come be with the rest of us."
"I'll wait up for you." Newt whispered back, pulling away from the hug and just holding Thomas' hands between them. "Please hurry, this room is driving me insane."
"That's exactly what I want to avoid. I'll see you soon, okay?" Thomas kissed his forehead again and retreated to the door, taking one last glance back at Newt; but he had already turned, facing the wall again.