It's twelve in the afternoon when we arrive back at the place from which we made our great escape. Thomas has been asleep the whole ride here, and I'm not keen on waking him.
The building looks smaller this time as we approach it. It's only been less than two days, but it feels like entering a different dimension. I can't tell if anything has majorly changed about me, but it feels like the person that walked out of there is not the same one that's about to walk in.
I didn't fight Vince's friend—Eric, I've learned—on taking us back. As much as we hate the place, if Thomas needs some sort of medication, where else can we go? I certainly don't have it, and I wouldn't know who does aside from TIMI. If he needs help, that's the most important thing.
A part of me knew this was inevitable. We couldn't live like that forever. But now we're back, and I have to face the consequences of running.
It was Vince's idea to come back, and I trust his judgement enough not to question him. He has a cover story ready, and I'm going to go along with it. After all he did for us, he doesn't deserve to be punished.
I count the deep breaths I take in the back of the van, switching my gaze from outside to Thomas. He's got his face pressed against the window, and he looks much more peaceful than before. Without consciousness plaguing him, the alien expression he had is no longer there, and it's melted back into the softer features of the Thomas I know.
"Are you ready?" Eric asks. That's a ridiculous question.
We're parked in front of the main building I had to go to when I checked in. I was so anxious that day; I didn't know what to expect. It certainly wasn't this. I was dreading the change of being in a new place without my family. Now I'm dreading something totally different.
"Yeah."
They treat us like criminals being transported to jail as they bring us back into TIMI. Are we criminals? I'm not sure if we broke the law, but if we're still right about them and WCKD, would that even matter?
Thomas freaks out upon being woken up by TIMI nurses taking him out of the van, but they were ready for that. I watched helplessly as they sedated him and put him in a wheelchair similar to mine.
As for me, I just sit still and let them roll me back in alongside Thomas. They don't ask me anything or even address me at all aside from a warning not to try anything, most likely because other people want to do the talking. In front of us, two nurses hold our suitcases, and there's something morbidly funny about the sight of them carrying our things for us.
I wish Thomas was awake and able to talk to me. He always has a way of making things seem better, and right now, they couldn't look worse. I'm tapping out tens on the arm of my chair as we go through the doors.
We're immediately brought to our building after a humiliating pat down by a security guard, and are greeted with the beautiful sight of Janson and Ava Paige waiting behind the doors. My stomach lurches, and if I wasn't in such a numb state, I'd probably throw up. I can hear my heart beating, and all I want is to see my mother.
Ava Paige walks forward with a cold smile and looks at Thomas before looking at me. We lock eyes, and I wish I would disappear.
"Get them to their rooms," she directs, only breaking her gaze when they start to wheel me away. I can see Janson leering at us from beside her.
The hallways feel infinitely colder. Everything about it is unpleasant, and I can hear every little noise made. The rolling wheels, the squeaking sound of sneakers on the tile, and a distant buzz of voices. They'll be eating lunch now. I wonder if they know we're back. Were they even told we left in the first place?
I feel even more hopeless than I did the day I came back here from the hospital. Because that day, I knew I'd have to answer for the accident. I had excuses. But this is a new level of bad. I have no answers.
Part of me holds on to a ridiculous shred of hope that Ava Paige meant our rooms; the ones with Chuck and Minho. But as we're wheeled into the solitary section, I know that the fantasy of getting to be back with Chuck is just that. I could use his optimism right now.
I'm wheeled to my room, and I watch as Thomas is wheeled past me to his. His shoulders are slumped, and he's practically falling forwards. If I wasn't in this chair, I'd run over to him and keep him steady.
"He needs help," I say loudly and suddenly, surprising everyone around me; including myself. The nurse wheeling him turns around, and mine stops in my doorway. "Thomas. He needs help, he needs medication."
The nurse looks conflicted, and almost afraid to respond. "He'll get it," he says. I vaguely recognize him from around. Is he in on it too? Everything with WCKD pharmaceuticals?
I'm wheeled over to my bed after they explain that I'll get my suitcase back once they've checked in my 'contraband', and then the nurse walks out without another word to stand in front of my door. It's occurring to me that now, I'm a flight risk. More importantly, I'm dangerous. If it's possible to be set further behind than square one, I'm there.
I'm back.
Somehow, I fall asleep. I'm not sure how I manage with all of my anxiety, but I do. I only realize I had when my door opens up, startling me awake. I'm cold already, but my blood turns to ice when Ava Paige steps into the room.
"Newton, I'd like to speak with you in my office if that's alright," Ava Paige says. Her demeanor is deceivingly calm, but her eyes tell a different story.
Do I have a choice? Running is obviously not an option for a number of reasons, so I force myself to swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. I'm immediately woozy, and wobble before grabbing onto the side of my wheelchair. After a moment, I remember that I haven't eaten today.
Her eyes are on me as I take two more steps after my initial two, and once I'm in my chair, I have six left. I tap my feet, and laser focus myself on the noise. Five. Six. Seven. She's walking over. Eight. Nine. Ten. She's behind my chair. We start off out of the room as I'm snapping my fingers.
I don't stop snapping my fingers while we get to her office. The sharp clicking rings through the hallway, and I keep track of the numbers. After one of the rounds, I look up at a clock. It's three, so I would usually be in group around this time, which means she's not running it today to deal with me.
As we go, I feel like the floor is sinking and so am I. The ceiling seems to push me down, and I'm moving through water. I don't want to be in this chair, but I have a feeling that if I stood up, I'd collapse.
I'm pushed into her office, and I realize that I've never seen it before. The temperature feels like it was turned down by thirty degrees, but somehow that doesn't surprise me. It's not very homely—there's a desk and a bunch of filing cabinets. No plants, no couch.
She wheels me up next to a chair, then sits behind her desk as I finish a round of snapping. I don't know if she expects me to get into the chair, but if she does, she's mistaken. I count the checkers in the floor tiles.
"Welcome back." I don't look up at her, because if I do, I feel like I'll scream. Instead, I opt for pretending I hadn't heard. The awkward silence that follows is so thick in the room that I feel like it's actually choking me somehow. "Would you like to explain yourself, or should I ask you questions?"
My eyes don't meet her face yet, but they linger on her desk. There's no pictures of family or friends, nothing personal. "What do you want to know?" I ask, almost sarcastically. It hurts to force words out, and my chest is aching.
More silence. Then, "I'd like to know why you and Thomas Green decided to break out."
I should have woken up Thomas in the car to get our story straight. All I knew was that he told me I was in danger. I made the choice to trust Thomas, and even if that was a bad decision, I won't throw him under the bus and tell them it was his idea. Do I have to say anything at all?
"Have you spoken to Thomas yet?" I ask, looking down at my hands. My head feels full and light at the same time, and I can feel a headache forming behind my eyes.
"I can't disclose that to you," she says. Since when is she the queen of morality?
"Is he awake now after you guys drugged him?" I ask sharply.
It takes her a moment to respond. "I was told that you were found by a friend of nurse Vince's. Is that true?"
"Yes," I respond simply. The story is that Vince had told Eric about our escape, and he happened to recognize us by the hotel. It's not the best cover story, but it's all we could come up with short notice.
"Can you tell me anything about your escape?" Ava Paige asks. If she doesn't believe our cover story, she doesn't say anything.
I don't want to tell her about what we know yet. If we're crazy, can't that just be my answer? What will they do if I don't tell them anything? "I didn't want to be here anymore."
"Why is that?" she asks. I can hear voices in the hallway, and the sound of my breathing is loud in my ears. Before I tell her anything, I need to talk to Thomas. "We found your journal, Newton."
Now I meet her gaze with fiery eyes. I can feel something spike through me, and the terror makes me dizzier than I already am. "Did you read it?" My heart is beating fast, and time slows as she takes her time answering.
"We had to," Dr. Paige says calmly.
No, no, no, no. She can't have read it. I feel the blood draining from my face. Why did I leave it in my suitcase when I know they'd take it? How could I make such a big mistake?
"What happened to saying the journal was personal? That it wouldn't be checked?" I ask. My voice is raised, but I don't care. This could be disastrous for me, for Thomas, for everyone. I try to quickly think back to what I wrote, and who I mentioned.
"It's different in a case like this," she says. I understand Thomas' freak out in group a lot more right now.
"Why are you asking me questions when you read my journal? Didn't that explain enough?" I ask angrily. I want to get up and throw my chair. I want to run away. But my limbs feel like jelly, and I once again feel like I'm going to throw up.
"I wanted to hear it directly from you," she says. I'm fuming. I can feel tears burning behind my eyes from frustration as she leans forward. "Leaving with Thomas was extremely dangerous. He's in here for a reason, Newton. He could have gotten you seriously injured, or even killed."
"This is coming from the woman who poisoned Winston?" I yell. I'm shaking from the influx of emotions, but my voice is steady.
"Thomas doesn't know what he saw. He has hallucinations—delusions. You do know that, don't you? Has he told you why he was put in here in the first place?" Ava Paige tilts her head, and she looks so unsettlingly at ease that I wish she'd scream at me.
I want to tell her that she's wrong, but her last sentence make the words catch in my throat. Thomas never told me what happened to land him in here. I've wondered, but I never asked. What could it possibly have to do with this?
I'm about to speak when the phone on Dr. Paige's desk rings. She looks at me, then picks it up. "Yes?" I hear muffled talking on the other end, then she takes a deep breath. For a moment, I think her mask will crumble, but it doesn't. "Alright. Send her into my office."
She hangs up, and I look at her in confusion. Who is she sending in here at a time like this? I'd figure our meeting was important, given the fact that she actually took me aside instead of just having me talk with Janson. Does he even know about what was in the journal? What Ava Paige is doing?
"I think we should speak more tomorrow," she says after a few moments. I'm wondering if she means that she wants me to leave when there's a knock at the door. Dr. Paige stands up behind her desk. "Come in."
I hear the door open, and I turn to see a nurse being shoved out of the way by someone. A woman. My mother.
"Mom?" The words come out as a whisper as she spots me. I don't have the time to process her presence before she's kneeling in front of me and I'm in her arms.
The guilt and relief I feel battle in my chest, and they both seem to be winning. On one hand, everything feels better with her here. She can take me away from TIMI and Ava Paige, but do I even deserve it after what I did to her? I squeeze her tighter as I think about what I must have put her through. With everything going on, how could I be so selfish?
She pulls back and holds my face in her hands, me instinctively reaching up to hold her arms. Her eyes search me—for what, I don't know. I missed her. I missed her a lot. Until now, I hadn't even realized how much.
"I'm sorry," I say. My voice is trembling and I have to choke the words out, the tears spilling over. I've completely forgotten that there's anyone else in the room.
Mom pulls me into another hug, and I hold her like my life depends on it, squeezing my eyes shut as I sob into her shoulder. I'm a horrible son. I've caused her so much pain, and I repay her for taking care of me by running away and not even telling her where I am?
"Why did you go? Why did you run away?" Mom asks, pulling back once again.
"I was in danger," I say quickly. I don't care about the consequences of my words now, all I care about is my mother. She deserves answers more than anyone else.
"Danger? What kind of danger? Did someone threaten you?" she asks frantically.
"It's complicated," I say. How much can I really explain right now? "But I had to leave, Mom. They're bad." I can only get a few words out at a time through my tears, and I'm surprised she can understand anything I'm saying.
"Who's bad?"
Remembering that we're not alone, I look up at Ava Paige. She's stone, and I point to her now, locking eyes with her as I speak. "TIMI. Ava Paige, all of them."
My mother looks at Dr. Paige, standing up to be at her level. "What does he mean? Did you try to hurt my son?"
Ava Paige shakes her head, looking away from me. "The only danger to your son was Thomas. He's delusional, and he told Newton things that aren't true in order to get him to leave."
"She's lying," I say, gaining my mother's attention back. "I saw the pill. Thomas didn't make it up."
"What pill?" Mom asks. Ava Paige furrows her eyebrows.
"I'm not in charge of your medication, Newton. I don't know what you're referring to," Ava Paige says. She says it so effortlessly, it's almost like she believes it herself.
I'm practically past anger to whatever could possibly be stronger, and I let out a bitter laugh, trying to calm my crying. "You don't know what I'm referring to? You're the one working with WCKD, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I ran because you're a monster."
"Newt, what do you mean? What did they do?" Mom asks.
"I'm not safe here—nobody is," I say desperately.
"We're not sure what Mr. Green told him or did to him, but I think he needs to be kept under close evaluation," Ava Paige says. "They may have engaged in a criminal act, and if they did, he'll be an involuntary patient."
"What does that mean?" Mom asks.
When Dr. Paige speaks, I could swear I see a hint of a smile on her crimson red lips. "It means that he'll have to stay until we deem it safe for him to leave."
I get my suitcase back in my room later with everything 'dangerous' removed from it. A very hesitant looking nurse brings it in, leaving it next to my bed as I watch him with a blank stare. He watches back like I'll pounce on him any second until he sees my cast.
Staring at the walls, I wonder if I'll be in here as long as Thomas has been. I've asked several times—once to Ava Paige, another to the nurse that brought me dinner, and anyone else I saw in between—in these last seven hours if I can see him but I know how pointless that is. My journal might be in my suitcase, and I know I should look at it, but I can't bring myself to.
My mother left after arguing with Dr. Paige over my status as an involuntary patient.
"So he can't come home? I couldn't take him out?" Mom asked.
"Not until we see fit," Ava Paige said.
As of when she left, I don't know who she believed. I don't blame her—I was so hysterical that I must have looked a bit crazy. But I have to have faith that she'll trust me. What else can I do but sit around and wait?
My door opens, and a small irrational part of me expects it to be Thomas. But, as my luck would have it, it's yet another nurse. He comes over to me with two cups, and my heart falls into my stomach.
I'm handed the water and my pills, and I look down at them. There's a pill in here that I cannot take. How am I supposed to avoid the medication from WCKD?
A conversation I had with Thomas when I first got here comes to mind. You gotta learn where to hide them, he'd told me. I wish now that I'd asked where he hid the pills he didn't take.
I shakily take out one of the safe pills while the nurse watches me, popping it in my mouth and taking a small sip of water. One by one, I take the good pills, stalling as I try to figure out what to do.
When I have four pills left, an idea strikes me. I put the cup down between my legs and take out two pills—a good one, and the bad one. As I pull them back from the cup, I slide the bad one down my palm. It still seems too obvious, so in a momentary stroke of genius, I cough hard, spilling a little of the water on the bed.
My adrenaline is rushing as the nurse looks over at the water and I quickly drop the bad pill down between my legs behind the cup.
"Sorry," I say after, lifting the good pill up to my mouth now.
I'm able to take the rest of them in peace, then the nurse takes both cups from me and asks me to open my mouth and show him both of my hands. I do both with no problem, but if he'd asked me to stand, then that would be an issue.
Once the nurse leaves, I discreetly—on the off chance I'm being watched—take the pill from under my thigh and put it in my pocket. I'll flush it down the toilet later.
After a minute, I finally open up my suitcase. My journal is sitting on top of everything else, and I'm almost surprised to see that it's there at all. I take it out first and quickly open up to my last entry, skimming the lines.
Some of the things in here aren't great. I talk about agreeing to go with Thomas, I talk about the hotel and meeting Winston's mother. I talk about WCKD and Ava Paige, and how I could have been poisoned. But I didn't mention Vince, and Ieft out a few of the details we know about Winston. That, and Thomas'... theory about me.
I go to put the journal back in, and two more things catch my eye while I set it down. There's an ache in my chest as I stare at them, eventually picking them up and putting them on my lap.
Thomas' hoodie and the plush shark he won me are soft in my hands, and I hold them close to me, closing my eyes tightly. All I wanted was to get better for my family. How did it get this complicated? Who do I have to get better for if I've already destroyed my family?
I'll never be normal. I'll never get to be that average teenage boy I thought I someday could be. I've known it for a long time now, but with Thomas, it somehow felt possible. Even if it was just for a moment, the hope was enough to fuel my imagination and let me believe it. Was it all just a lie?
I hug the items close as I cry. I cry for my lost future. I cry for my family. I cry for Winston. I cry for Thomas. I cry for every kid in this place that's at the mercy of Ava Paige and WCKD. And lastly, I cry for me. The me before TIMI—the boy who never got to cry; and me now—the boy who feels like he might never stop.