At first, everything was dark and soundless. Newt's thoughts were the only things keeping himself sane.
The fact that he was still alive, or what he assumed was living, meant that the cranks hadn't killed him just yet but that didn't mean they wouldn't. It was just so unfair that he had suffered so much and fought so hard to only pass out and be vulnerable anyway. He really hated WICKED for what they had done to him and his friends. However, Newt's thoughts were gladly ended as he began to dream.
Orange light shone through his eyelids, waking him from his unplanned slumber. Everything he'd dreamt about had evaporated as soon as he'd woken but that wasn't what bothered Newt.
There was something warm pushed up against his left side and there was a light weight on his thigh. Fear kept Newt perfectly still and kept his eyes shut. He tried to keep his breathing regular, to mimic sleep, but it was hard when his heart rate sped up, increasing his body's need for oxygen. Just when he couldn't regulate his breathing any longer and he would have to gulp in a big breath, the thing-no person- next to him spoke,
"Just give it a rest, Minho, it's not going to work."
Newt's heart started beating quickly for a completely different reason. Not only did the person mention Minho, but he also recognised the voice. Slowly, as they were sensitive to the light shining in his face, Newt fluttered his eyes open.
"T-tommy?" He whispered, his voice scratchy and gruff.
"Newt? Newt, are you awake?" Thomas said as he squeezed Newt's thigh slightly.
The blond could finally see, after being blind in the bright light and instantly turned his head to look at Thomas. The boy was filthy but looked good compared to Newt. He had a worried smile on his lips as he searched the now conscious boy's face.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Newt muttered quietly, tears running down his face again.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Newt. All of this, " Thomas motioned to the room around them as he spoke, "wasn't your fault. You were taken against your will."
"No. I wanted to apologise for what I accused you off. I know you were only looking out for me, I was stupid to think otherwise. Every second in this place I wished you were there to protect me. I-I need you, Tommy." Newt rushed out breathlessly.
"Oh."
By now, the other Gladers in the room had come over. Newt looked at them. They seemed as well as they could be in the Scorch and from what he could see, no one had gone missing since he'd last seen them. Minho came forwards and knelt in front of him with a warm smile,
"How are you feeling?"
"Like bloody klunk." Newt croaked out with a half-smile.
Minho laughed, "Good that," Then he looked between Newt and Thomas, "we'll let you two have a bit of catch up time while we try and get the shucking computer working." He stood up and motioned for the other Gladers to follow him and soon it was only Newt and Thomas left sitting up against the wall they had moved the blond to when they found him.
Newt opened his mouth to speak but before any words came out, he began coughing. Instantly, Thomas grabbed his canteen and offered it to Newt, who was just getting control of his choking. He lifted it to his lips but his hands were shaking badly, which caused water to splash over his shirt. Thomas smiled sympathetically as he held Newt's hand, to steady the canteen, and poured the liquid into the boy's dry mouth.
Newt would have kept drinking until it was empty, if Thomas hadn't pulled the can away, "take it slow. Ok." He told him kindly.
"Yeah, thank you," Newt said, his voice slightly smoother and louder, "Um, don't worry if it's any trouble, but I'm quite hungry."
"What do you mean 'don't worry'? You look practically starved." Thomas fretted.
Newt laughed. An actual happy laugh that caused Thomas to smile, "I s'ppose I kind of am."
"I'll have to get up and get something. Will you be okay for a minute?" Thomas asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
Thomas stood up and walked over to the desk, where the others worked endlessly to get the computer to start. He reached into Minho's pocket, which entitled him to slap, and pulled out a couple of granola bars. Then he jogged back over to Newt with a smile and a slightly red mark on his face. He handed the bars over and sat back down, slipping his hand around Newt's waist.
Ripping at the wrapper like an animal, Newt rushed to eat, cramming as much in his mouth as he could. He barely managed to breathe between mouthfuls and had finished a whole bar in under 5 seconds. Just as he was about to open the next granola wrapper, Thomas grabbed his hand gently.
"Remember to take it slow. Your body isn't used to food, you'll only puke it back up." He said as he took the food from Newt.
"Okay."
The two boys sat in silence for a few minutes. Every time Newt's head would start to droop, Thomas would give his waist a light squeeze as he knew the blond wouldn't want to fall asleep. The other Gladers had given up on the computer by this point and were now moping about, poking at debris and sitting about aimlessly.
"Tommy, when are we leaving?"
Thomas spoke up, suddenly remembering what he was supposed to tell him, "Probably tomorrow morning. Don't worry if you think we are being held back by you. We all decided to wait until you had the strength before we went anywhere."
"I appreciate what you shanks are doing for me but the sooner we leave the better. I made it this far on my own, I'm sure a few miles won't hurt." Newt said
"Newt, it's-" Thomas began but was cut off.
"No, you don't understand. I want to leave as soon as possible, even if I have to crawl five miles into the Scorch to do so. I went through hell in this place and I think it's time to leave already."
Thomas didn't answer, only looked at Newt with sadness and something that looked like worry, on the border of being fear. That's when Newt realised. The last time they had seen each other, they'd had a similar argument.
"I'm sorry, Tommy. Didn't mean to get angry there. But if it isn't too much of a pain in the ass, then leaving would be great." Newt concluded in a quiet voice.
"Yeah, it's fine by me. This place gives me the creeps, anyway. I'll go tell the others now and we'll hopefully be on our way in about five minutes." Thomas said as he removed his hand from behind Newt and stood up.
Newt watched him walk towards Minho and instantly missed his warm embrace around his waist. He remembered what he'd thought to himself before. That he would have to tell Thomas how he felt about him, how he'd felt since he'd first met him back in the Glade. He closed his eyes in thought and daydreamed, as his head lolled forwards.
That was until Thomas came back over and placed a finger under his chin, to lift his head up. Newt's gaze locked onto the brunet's face and he smiled sheepishly. Thomas laughed lightly and said, "everyone has agreed to go and were leaving whenever you're ready."
"Could I have a little help, please," Newt asked as he reached his hands out. Thomas gript them and pulled him to his feet. The blond stumbled slightly and black dots danced in his vision but he could already feel the energy returning from what he'd eaten. As Thomas slipped his arm around Newt's waist to hold him up, the sick boy cried out in pain.
"Oh, God. Did I hurt you?" Thomas said worriedly, as he began to panic.
"No, it's fine. Just a past injury. I'll be fine." Newt answered.
"We should check that out. It could be infected." Said Thomas as he gript Newt's waist slightly lighter.
"It'll be fine for now." Newt muttered as he hooked his arm around Thomas's shoulder and got comfortable on his feet, "let's go."
The two boys walked over to the now assembled group of Gladers, Newt tripping occasionally as he lent on Thomas. Minho smiled when he saw them and moved over to speak.
"You two ready? Because we don't want to start walking only for you to collapse."
"I'm ok, Minho, honestly," Newt said.
"I know you're fine. I was talking about Thomas." The Asian boy answered with a smile.
"Shut up, Minho," Thomas clamoured, "Let's go already."
Minho turned to address the whole group, "Come on, everyone. Let's go."
Newt smiled as he limped along in Thomas's arms. He still couldn't believe it was real, that he was with his friends again and they moving away from his hell on Earth. It was almost too good to be true.