They've been walking through the Scorch for what it seems like hours, the group already dragging their legs as they head towards a place that seems extremely far away from where they are now.
Thomas is helping Newt, Minho and Frypan carry a sick, wounded Winston in some hammock they just made with some strong sticks and clothes, trying to keep the boy from falling apart.
"We just gotta keep moving." Thomas shouts through the sand storm that has just formed, to his friends, trying his best to encourage them to continue. Hopefully, they listen to him.
They switch turns on carrying Winston, the boy occasionally letting out grunts of pain, or whispering pained words like "Leave me, I'm not gonna make it." so it's time for Aris to carry him along with the others while Thomas rests his muscles.
"But just for a bit." He says, Aris nodding at his statement.
Thomas feels guilty over all of this situation, because it was him who brought them into that and he wants to help in any way he can.
But he could use some rest for some minutes already.
He walks forward to a very tired Teresa, her head looking down and her shoulders low, probably due to the long tiring hours of walking in the sand.
He approaches her, placing a hand on her shoulder in a way to get her attention.
She looks up at him, her eyes tired and out of focus, their blue tone now turned into a grey one, shining way less than before. She still manages to give him a small smile before looking down again.
"Hey, you okay?" Thomas asks, placing his right hand on her back to help her keeping a steady pace.
"Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all." She sighs, giving Thomas a reassuring smile once again.
But Thomas knows it's way more.
He knows the state the boys are at now, and he can't imagine how she is now. He literally dragged her out of a medical wing, where she was sleeping in some kind of deep sleep, probably recovering from something horrible they did to her.
He nodded slightly, looking ahead of him to see the mountains still way ahead.
"How many days do you think it will take?" He hears a soft voice from beside him asking.
"I don't know, maybe two, maybe three, but no longer than that, I think."
He looks down at her. She nods her head in agreement, and that's when Thomas realizes how really tired Teresa looks. Her face is pale besides the burning sun hitting on their bodies. Her eyes are small, probably from the lack of sleep. But that's the fact that they're no longer shining that makes him feel really worried.
He wants to do something, but he doesn't know what to do.
He reaches for his backpack, taking a bottle of water out, checking if it does still have some inside.
He smiles softly to himself as he sees that he can actually help her, even if in a small way.
"Here." He says, extending his arm with the metal bottle to her front.
She looks confusedly at him and the bottle, squinting her eyes due to the sun.
"Drink it. You'll feel better."
Teresa takes the bottle, opening it and looking inside, noticing that it's almost empty.
"But, Thomas, it's almost empty, you need it as well." She replies, looking at him and handing him the bottle again.
He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. You need it more than me right now." He finishes, looking ahead again in a way that makes Teresa understand it's no up for discussion.
"Thank you." She smiles, drinking the still cold, smooth water inside the bottle.
*__*
The small bonfire in front of them makes their eyes reflect the sadness and grief that is now taking over their body, making them feel low and frustrated.
Well, at least for Thomas.
He gets up, walking some meters away to stay a little bit on his own, but Newt follows him after, sitting beside him as they exchange some words.
It all became even more terrifying when Winston left this world.
Tears falling from Frypan's eyes as he remembers his best friend, his companion.
Winston deserved so much better.
Teresa watches as Newt gets up and walks towards the fire again, after patting Thomas on the shoulder friendly.
She doesn't know if she should go over to him, but they've been through a lot, and they already understood that they were stronger together.
She lifts her body from its laying position and she walks over to her best friend, sitting where Newt had previously sat on.
She takes a deep breath, looking at the boy fidgeting with his fingers.
"How are you?" Teresa knows it's a dumb question to ask, but she doesn't know what else to do than to be there for him.
"I... I don't know..." He admits, his head hanging low to look at the sand on his boots.
Teresa can feel her heart break into tiny pieces as she hears the small crack on Thomas' voice, clearly showing how broken he is.
She places a hand in his shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing way, trying her best to comfort him.
For some reason, Thomas relaxes right when he feels her touch on his shirt.
"I should've done something." Thomas says, lifting his head to look ahead of him, not meeting Teresa's gaze. "I should've helped him."
"No, Thomas, you did everything you could." Teresa tries to reason with him, but decides it's the best if she just lets him talk.
"No, I didn't. If I did no one else would have died in front of us." He speaks softly, finally turning his head to look at the eyes of the girl he has connected so fast with.
"Not to mention that it's all my fault. I put you all into this situation, we are walking to a place we don't know exists because I decided to escape WICKED. It's all because of me..."
He looks down again, shedding some silent tears as his vulnerability finally kicks in.
He isn't embarrassed of crying in front of Teresa, like as if he feels extremely comfortable around her and he can be himself, not the strong, brave Thomas he is when he's fighting or in life/death situations.
"Thomas, don't ever say that again, you hear me?" Teresa finally says, mindlessly turning his head to look at her eyes with her fingers. "It's not your fault and it will never be. You saved us, Thomas. You saved all of us." She tries to put some sense onto his brain, making an effort to take that idea out of his mind.
"But if I hadn't been stupid and done anything dangerous Winston would still be alive." He replies, looking down at her blue, beautiful eyes.
"Maybe not, Thomas. Maybe we would all be dead by now and Winston would probably be dying in an even torturous way." She states, caressing his cheek as her hand is still there.
"So, please, stop thinking it's your fault when it's in no way yours." She finishes, letting her hand down to her lap.
Thomas nods silently, looking at the ground beneath him.
After some seconds, he speaks again.
"Thank you."
It's barely a whisper, but she can hear it.
"For what?"
"For being here with me." He whispers, lifting his head to look at her soft smile.
"And I'll always be." She responds, and Thomas takes her into a much needed embrace, the two resting on each others' arms, finally letting all the stress from the past few days disappear as they forget everything but themselves embraced as one.
Because they're the only ones who have it. That invisible string that holds them together, even if they don't remember their beginnings.
It's that tether, that emotional tether that keeps them connected and more united than ever.