Work Text:
“They should be back by now. Why aren’t they back?” Newt’s eyes squinted against the sun as he gazed once again towards the west entrance to the Glade. Thomas looked at his friend, worry making his eye brows crease. He was right. They should’ve been back an hour ago. Minho and Alby were just supposed to be gone for a few hours to check out a dead griever and explore, then come back. Gently grabbing Newt’s wrist, Thomas checked the time on the digital watch he wore. Newt seemed slightly surprised, but quickly relaxed once he realized what Thomas was doing.
Thomas’ heart dropped. The doors were closing in 30 minutes. Where were they?
Thomas watched the doors, standing with Newt in silence. After a minute he cleared his throat, anxiety bubbling in his chest. “Hey, Newt?” Thomas’ eyes were focused on the side of the blonde’s face. Newt was still looking at the doors, his gaze never leaving them as he uttered a quick “Yeah, Tommy?”
Taking a deep breath, Thomas spoke. “What if they don’t make it back? What happens to them?”
He had already been told that no one survived a night in the maze, that they never sent out search parties, that no one could enter the maze. He had by this point guessed what would happen to them, but he thought that hearing someone say it, hearing Newt say it, would either make it seem better or ten times worse.
Newt’s stare finally broke from the West doors as he turned to look at Thomas, who quickly dropped his gaze for a second, not realizing he had been staring. When his eyes met Newt’s again, he spoke.
“I mean,“ Thomas started, shuffling his feet. “What if they don’t make it?” He could hear his voice hitch slightly on the last word. He hadn’t been in the Maze with the Gladers very long, but Alby and Minho were already such good friends that the thought of losing them hurt. And Newt. Thomas pushed the thought out of his head, gazing at the ground.
After another minute, Newt spoke. “Tommy, listen.” Thomas’ eyes snapped back up and met Newt’s again. Newt reached out and clapped his hand onto Thomas’s shoulder, giving him a look of reassurance. “They’re gonna make it, yeah? Those shanks are bloody tough, and I know Alby’s not gonna let me be in charge for much longer.” Newt smiled at that, and Thomas couldn’t help but follow suit. Letting out a slight laugh, Thomas realized that instead of removing his hand, Newt had tightened his grip.
“Newt? What’s-?” Thomas was cut off by a shout coming from the West entrance. Gladers were running from their posts to it, pointing and yelling. Sharing a glance between them, Newt and Thomas sprinted to the doors. A flash of hope appeared in Thomas’ chest. It was them, it had to be.
Once they made it, Thomas saw that he was half right. Running as fast as he could came Minho. Just Minho. There was no sign of Alby. Stealing a glance at Newt, he saw his stare harden as he marched up to Minho, who had just cleared the doors and stood panting. “Minho! Are you alright? Where the shuck is Alby?” The words rushed out of Newt’s mouth. Minho held up a hand, then took a deep breath.
His gaze swept over all of the Gladers surrounding him before they landed on Newt and Thomas.
“The Griever wasn’t dead. He got stung.”
A shocked gasp rippled through the Gladers, followed by more questions.
“Where is he?”
“It wasn’t dead?”
“How did you get back?”
“Is Alby dead?”
Newt called for quiet, and the Gladers complied.
“I don’t know. I don’t- listen, we were right next to the Griever, Alby bent down to take a closer look, and it just-. It just sprang to life. Stung him before I even got a chance to yell, then it started after me. I didn’t think, just ran. The thing was behind me until I was almost at the entrance, then it finally went a different way. It wasn’t even chasing me. I was just in the way. I saw the doors were about to close and I-“Minho’s voice finally broke. Thomas could tell he was fighting back tears.
“I figured there was no reason for us both to die.”
------------
Newt and a small crowd of Gladers were back at the door that the duo had originally exited and Minho had come through. There was only 5 minutes left until it would close. Thomas walked up to them, pushing his way through the Gladers until he got right to the front with Newt and Chuck. Minho was recovering back at Frypan’s, although Thomas suspected Newt didn’t want him here anyway. He cast a worried look over at his friend, whose eyebrows were lowered in a mixture of anger and worry. Newt’s mouth was cast in a thin line, and his arms were crossed over his chest, one of them absently rubbing his shoulder. Thomas gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm, earning a small, forced smile from the taller boy.
There were only 2 minutes left now, and still no sign of Alby. Many had given up hope, dispersing back into the Glade. It was only Newt, Thomas, Chuck, and a few other Gladers whose names Thomas didn’t know. Finally, the grating sound of the doors closing filled their ears, and Newt turned to leave. Thomas was about to follow, but stole one last glance down the maze. A sliver of movement caught his eye, and he turned back around, grabbing Newt by the arm. He pulled the boy back to his side, still not letting go. “Newt!” He pointed, and saw Newt’s eyes follow.
There, at the end of the corridor, was Alby. His shirt was torn, a big hole in the middle. He couldn’t make out much from the distance, but Thomas could see dirt and grime covering Alby’s face and body, as if the boy had dragged himself a crossed the ground the entire way back. Alby was staggering forward now, threatening to trip with every step. The crowd had come back at Thomas’ shout, and was now screaming encouragements at Alby, still struggling to make it.
With a jolt Thomas realized he wasn’t going to make it. The door was halfway closed now, and it wasn’t stopping. Without running, Alby would never make it, and he was in no shape to run. Alby seemed to have realized this too, as he finally stopped. Thomas heard a quiet “I’m sorry.” Before Alby collapsed to the ground, his eyes closing, body going limp. Looking around at the other Gladers, seeing their faces, seeing Newt’s face, full of despair and helplessness, Thomas cemented his decision. Newt seemed to notice, as he heard him shout “Don’t do it Tommy! Don’t you bloody do it!” There was nothing but pain in his voice as he said it, but Thomas knew what he had to do. The walls had almost met, were only 10 feet away, 8 feet, 5 feet.
Steeling himself, Thomas broke into a sprint towards the doors, heard screaming behind him, and felt a hand grasp at his shirt, missing by a breath. Thomas didn’t look back, the screams of the Gladers and the sliding stone of the door drowning out anything else. Running as fast as he could, he had to squeeze a little before he got out. He heard the wall shut as it found a home in the other side, he couldn’t hear the screaming anymore as he fell to his stomach inside the maze. Before he could move however, a weight landed on top of him with a grunting sound. Thomas let out a strangled yelp, not expecting anyone to have followed him.
His first thought was Chuck. That kid was always following Thomas around, and he might’ve followed him, even into the maze. A jolt of fear shot through him before he realized that the weight on him wasn’t enough to be Chuck, having already been sat on by him a few times due to his prankster nature.
The second person he thought about was Newt. He had been the closest to Thomas, to the entrance, to Alby. The idea that Newt was now trapped in the maze sent a feeling through Thomas that was more than just fear or sadness. The weight was lifted from him and Thomas managed to spin around, still laying on the ground.
It was Newt. Thomas felt the fear in him increase until it was a full blown panic in his chest. Newt’s arms were straddling the sides of Thomas as if he was in the process of getting up when he turned around. Their eyes met, both of them full of fear. Although Thomas’ fear was not for himself, not even for his friend who was passed out several feet behind him. It surprised him, but all of the fear he felt was for the blonde boy leaning over him, his long hair falling loose and framing his face. They stayed like that for several seconds, both panting, both looking at the other, before Newt finally blinked and finished getting up. He extended his hand and Thomas took it, being pulled to his feet.
“What were you thinking?!” Newt’s voice erupted before Thomas had even let go of his hand. After he did, Newt waved them around and spun in a circle. He looked back to Thomas, the fear in his eyes changing for a second to anger as he yelled again.
“Going out into the bloody Maze! Where you’ve never been before, where no one has ever survived the night! Is your head full a klunk?” Newt was still staring at Thomas, his chest heaving with breaths. Thomas couldn’t stop himself from speaking up. “Then why did you come?” After the words left him, the anger left Newt. It drained out of his eyes and his expression, replaced again by the fear of the Maze and something deeper, hidden. Not bothering to answer Thomas, Newt planted his face in his hands. He wasn’t really crying, but his shoulders shook with silent, dry sobs.
“We’re gonna die out here. All 3 of us.” His watery eyes found Thomas’ again. Thomas still hadn’t spoke, still in shock at the reality that squeezed his chest, making it hard to breathe. Newt had followed him. He had followed him and now he was going to die.
Breaking eye contact with Thomas, his face twisted into a grimace, Newt walked passed him to Alby, who was still unconscious. Alby. Thomas had honestly forgotten him, forgotten the reason he came out here, because of Newt. He had looked so desperate, so lost, so afraid. It had hurt Thomas in a way he didn’t think was possible.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he followed behind Newt and crouched down on Alby’s other side. He was out cold, his breathing even but slow. Newt shook his head before speaking. “What’re we gonna do, Tommy?”
Thinking, Thomas scanned his immediate surroundings for anywhere they could possibly hide Alby. His gaze drifted upwards before landing on the thick ivy crawling up the walls. “We have to hide him!” Thomas’ voice came out in a small shout. The idea was so ridiculous that Thomas let out a breathy laugh. Newt’s look of confusion snapped Thomas back.
Pointing up at the ivy, Thomas quickly told Newt his plan, the boy’s eyebrows raising higher in disbelief with every word that Thomas said. When he was done, Thomas looked expectantly at Newt, waiting for an answer.
Newt now pointed at the ivy cascading down the stone wall. “You wanna put him up there? IN the ivy, like, actually tied in the bloody ivy?” Thomas nodded, his words coming quickly. “It’s the only chance we have to save him, Newt. We can’t lug him around and run from grievers with him, and I don’t think we have and serum out here or any time for him to heal. It’s the only chance.” Thomas repeated the last part, half to convince Newt, half to convince himself. If they hid him, the grievers wouldn’t be able to get him, and the ivy was the only thing even close to a hiding spot that probably existed in this maze.
Newt sighed, shaking his head as his gaze fell on Alby. His gaze softened then, and his eyes snapped back to Thomas.
“You’re bloody crazy, Tommy.”
-----
About half an hour later, they had Alby hoisted up about 30 feet on the wall by thick ropes of ivy tied around him. They had gone a little further in the maze first, trying to see if there was any other option, but it soon became apparent that this was their best chance. It probably wasn’t too comfy, but you can’t exactly tell when you’re passed out. Satisfied with the height and the concealment of Alby, Newt and Thomas tied off the pieces of ivy, making sure they held.
They were just about to set off again when Thomas heard something that made all the blood in his body go cold. He looked at Newt and saw the boy shaking in fear, his eyes wide. The sound was something like a car driving with no rubber on its tires, mixed with a sound like someone on the brink of death moaning in pain. Then the noise was replaced with what sounded like several sharp things being stuck into stone, grazing off of it. The noise was getting closer, and Thomas knew they wouldn’t make it passed without being seen. He risked a peek around the corner closer to the sound and saw it. A griever. It was only about 20 feet away, and Thomas could see it clear enough in the dark that it made his stomach lurch and his heart tighten.
It was about the size of a very large cow, all metal and blubber. It lumbered closer to where the two stood, but it didn’t see them, couldn’t when Thomas ducked back into the passage.
Suddenly Newt was grabbing him, motioning for him to be quiet. Quickly, Newt pulled himself and Thomas under the hanging ivy, lying directly on the ground. It formed a thick curtain that completely obscured their bodies. Thomas was pressed tightly into Newt, facing him. Newt’s back was to the wall, so Thomas had to guess what exactly was happening behind him by Newt’s facial expressions.
A few minutes passed, the noise growing closer and closer. They both kept their breathing as even as possible. Newt’s hot breath met Thomas’s face and neck with every one he took, and Thomas had to close his eyes and his mind before his breath quickened. Even in this situation, Thomas couldn’t help but notice just how close he was to Newt, the other Glader’s body pressed tightly into his, their faces mere inches apart. Their limbs were tangled together, not having time to consider personal space in their hurry to hide. Thomas reopened his eyes and saw Newt staring passed the top of his head, his face a mixture of fear and anticipation. He wished he could look behind him, he couldn’t stand not being able to see what was happening, when it was coming. He locked eyes with Newt and managed to let him know what he was going to do by using his hands. Newt looked panicked, shook his head no, but at Thomas’ insisting he agreed. With Newt helping him, Thomas was able to turn himself around without making any noise that could be heard over the Griever’s scraping and moaning. Once Thomas’ back was against Newt, he realized he’d made a mistake.
Thomas knew he had no right to be thinking about something as… trivial as this when a brutal death stood just around the corner. But, god, the breath on the back of his neck was even worse. Newt was still pressed tightly against the wall, squished in by Thomas in order to fully hide him in the ivy. Now Thomas’ back was pressed snug into Newt’s front, and as much as Thomas tried not to let it, his face began to heat up. Newt’s arms were trapped between him and Thomas, but after a few seconds of uncomfortableness he pried them out, laying the bottom one forward passed his head. His top arm had nowhere to go but on Thomas. The feel of it setting on his side almost made Thomas yelp in surprise before he remembered where they were. His eyes focused back, gazing out the gaps in the ivy. There was still nothing, just the sound, loud and extremely close. Thomas and Newt had been squeezed together like this for much longer than Thomas thought it would take, not daring to try and get more comfortable in fear the griever would speed up or suddenly appear. If they had known it was going to go so slowly they might’ve gotten a little farther apart, but Thomas couldn’t tell if he would’ve preferred that. It had been minutes being pressed against each other under the thick vines of ivy, and it was starting to get hot. Thomas could feel sweat beading on his neck and face, feel it drip down his back.
Suddenly, a metal appendage struck the ground right in front of Thomas. He let out a small gasp before Newt’s hand clamped over his mouth. Thomas regulated his breathing through his nose, getting it back to normal. He didn’t dare move, and neither did Newt, his hand still over Thomas’ mouth, knowing it had been a mistake to move at all.
The metal limb of the griever pitched forward, followed by at least 5 more. Metal appendages stuck out all over the part he could see, coming out of flesh that looked like a gel, its surface shiny and slick looking, making squishing sounds as it rumbled forward. It stopped for maybe a second before continuing to crawl forward, going much too slowly for Thomas’ liking.
In the back of his head, he thought that maybe if circumstance were different, he might enjoy his current position. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Thomas squirmed slightly, eager to get out from under the ivy. He heard Newt suck in a short breath behind him and realized again just how close they were, pressing against each other, that he had just moved against Newt in a way that… Thomas stopped thinking and held himself absolutely still, taking care to pretend he hadn’t noticed Newt’s noise. Newt had taken his hand off of Thomas’ mouth slowly, still wary of being noticed, and now rested it gently back on Thomas’ side.
They waited another 5 or so minutes, honestly Thomas had no idea how much time had passed until the sounds of the Griever were far off and less menacing. Newt lightly tapped Thomas, signaling him to peek out. Thomas became painfully aware at how he moved against Newt again, trying to get his head farther out without fully showing himself. It was quieter this time, but again he heard a small noise from Newt. Pushing his head forward, Thomas glanced up and down the hall of the maze. When he noticed nothing, he rolled out from under the ivy and into the fresh air, gasping for breath even though he didn’t really need to, his face burned and he knew it was red. Newt followed rolling onto his back beside Thomas, breathing heavily. They looked at each other but didn’t say anything, and Newt got up so fast Thomas was afraid he didn’t want to talk to him.
As Thomas scrambled to his feet, Newt was already scoping out the end of the hall that the Griever had disappeared to. Thomas checked the other one, and then both met back, right under where they had left Alby. Deciding to ignore what he really wanted to talk about, Thomas asked what they were both thinking. “What do we do?” Thomas took care to whisper, afraid of being noticed. “We can’t just leave him here, can we?”
Newt shook his head, then cleared his throat. “No, we can’t. I think we should just stay here. If we hear another one of those bloody Grievers out there we can just go back under the ivy.” Thomas noticed that as he said the last part, Newt’s face seemed to become tinged with red. Remembering the noises Newt had made and why, Thomas felt him own face heat up.
They decided to go with Newt’s plan, keeping watch on either end of the passage. Thomas had lost track of time, but he knew several hours had passed and yet no sign of another griever, as if fate was giving them a pass. They heard them, and one even sounded so close that they bolted under the ivy, this time spread out. After some time had passed, they had gotten out and resumed their watch.
Thomas was getting anxious, he desperately needed to distract himself in some way. Standing still and staring down the same dark hallway had made his palms start to itch in anticipation for something to happen. Abandoning his post, Thomas walked over to Newt and leaned against the wall next to him and just started talking, not even watching what he was saying.
“Do you think we’ll make it? Till the morning?”
Newt turned to face Thomas, scrunching his eyebrows in thought.
“Well,” He finally said. “As far as I know, we’ve already made it longer than anyone else. So yeah, I think we can do it.”
Just hearing Newt say those words sent a flood of reassurance through him. Going against his better judgement, Thomas decided bring up what happened under the ivy earlier, figuring now was as good a time as any. As much as he wanted to avoid the awkward conversation it would entail, he knew it would prevent further awkwardness that would hang around if they didn’t talk about it.
Steeling himself, Thomas took a deep breath and started talking before he chickened out of it.
“Newt?” He heard the other boy give a small grunt, letting him know he was listening. Part of Thomas, the biggest part, almost didn’t speak. Almost dropped it, almost left it to hang in the air between them. Thought he was reading too much into it.
The other part of him, smaller as it was, it was also more persistent. What if there was a possibility that what Thomas felt was reciprocated? That the glances he always noticed Newt throwing his way when he didn’t think Thomas was looking were more than just simple looks. All the times Newt had stood up for him, had protected him, how he had saved him when Ben attacked him. It was always Newt that got there first, always Newt that helped and made sure Thomas was ok.
A sudden noise brought Thomas out of his train of thought. It was Newt, snapping his fingers in front of Thomas’ face. “Tommy? You alright?”
Thomas had zoned out, hadn’t even realized Newt was trying to talk to him. Embarrassed, Thomas could almost feel his face get red, from both his thoughts and his little spell of unawareness. “Yeah, I’m good.” He mumbled, before getting to the point.
“So, earlier, when we were, uh, hiding. “ Thomas was stuttering, a sudden nervousness seizing his throat and making it hard to talk. Avoiding Newt’s gaze, Thomas continued.
“In the ivy. I was just wondering, um, did I make you uncomfortable? I mean, I didn’t mean to move or anything but I was just worried that you’d be mad at me for some reason and I really don’t want you to be mad at me and-“ Thomas had started rambling, his nervousness making it near impossible for him to stop talking. Relief flooded through him when he heard Newt speak, cutting him off.
“Are you really worried about that?” Thomas looked up and finally met Newt’s eyes. They were dark in the light, making his already dark brown eyes almost black. Thomas grinned sheepishly before nodding. Newt smiled, but it seemed forced, and worry hit Thomas again.
“Don’t worry about it, man. It was really tight under there, and I’d do it again if it meant keeping you from getting hurt by a griever.” Newt quickly looked away, as if regretting what he had said. Before Thomas could react, a loud moaning sound came from behind them. They both wheeled around, and what was waiting for them made Thomas’ heart stop.
A griever. In all its glory, maybe 50 feet from them. They hadn’t heard it until now, and Thomas hadn’t been watching. The griever was staring directly at them, its now visible beady eyes glinting. It let out something akin to a roar before charging the two boys.
Fear gripped Thomas, made it hard for him to register that they needed to move, to run. He stood there in shock until Newt’s voice ripped him out of it.
A hand gripped his arm, pulling him away from the Griever. “Come on! We gotta go!” Newt was screaming.
Thomas finally turned and sprinted after the other boy.
He had no idea where he was going, and Thomas suspected neither did Newt. They were both running as fast as possible, but the griever was still behind them, the sounds of deathly moaning and metal scraping on stone followed them. It seemed as though it was decreasing in volume; they were losing it. They had turned another corner and were almost to the end of it when Thomas heard Newt fall.
His limp must’ve caught up with him, making the boy tumble to the ground, landing on his stomach. Thomas skidded to a halt when Newt yelled his name. “Thomas!”
Turning around, Thomas started towards Newt. He had just grabbed his hand to haul him up when the griever turned the corner. It didn’t seem to notice them right away, almost went passed. But then it saw them and slowly started down the hall, seeming to know that they were halted, taking its time.
Newt looked up at Thomas, still clutching his hand. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it, I can barely feel my leg. Tommy, I-“ Newt’s voice broke as he spoke, and he struggled to look behind him at the slowly advancing griever.
“No.” Thomas whispered, then stated it loudly. “No. Newt, we’re gonna make it. Both of us. I won’t leave you.” Thomas pulled Newt up to his feet, where the boy collided into Thomas’ chest as he tried to put weight on one of his legs; the one with the limp, Thomas realized.
Wrapping one arm around Newt’s waist and the other holding his hand over his shoulders, Thomas started running again, half dragging Newt with him. As soon as they started moving again the griever picked up speed, coming at them again. Thomas was already feeling the strain on his muscles from basically carrying another person while running. They turned several more times, still running as fast as they could. This time, however, the griever was gaining ground.
They could still hear the maze changing around them, the walls shifting and changing like they did every night. They rounded another corner and Thomas saw one wall closing, sliding on the ground to meet the other side of the hall.
An idea passed into his head. They had to get on the other side of it, away from the griever. They got right up to it, but it wasn’t small enough, the griever could still get through. “Go! I’m gonna buy us some time.” Thomas told Newt as he released his hand and waist, pushing him forward to the closing wall. Newt tried to protest, but then realized he could do nothing to help, instead running through the still closing wall. It was almost halfway there, and it seemed to be taking forever. The griever turned the corner and rumbled towards Thomas, again slowing as If stalking prey. Thomas got the icy feeling that it knew he was done, that there was no way to get away from it. Slowly making his way backwards, one step at a time, Thomas began to lure the griever to the closing door.
Noticing him moving again, the griever picked up speed, getting only 20 feet away from Thomas.
“It’s closing! Thomas!” Newt shouted from behind him. Risking a quick glance behind him, Thomas saw that it was time. He wheeled around and took off into a sprint, getting in the path of the closing doors. This one spanned longer than he had thought, and Newt was standing where they ended. Just as he had hoped, the griever followed him, pushing its way into the closing doors path. It was right behind him, he could feel it desperately snatching at his clothes, trying to pull him back. Newt was standing right at the opening, his mouth open, screaming words of encouragement, his hands outstretched like he was trying to pull Thomas to him.
He thought it was over, thought the griever would get him and they both be crushed in the wall. Thomas closed his eyes and pushed forward, straining as the wall started to push on him. When he thought it was too late, hands reached forward, grasping the front of his shirt and pulling him out, making him fall to the ground. He heard the griever behind him shriek before a crunching sound met his ears. It worked. Then he realized where he was.
For the third time that day, Thomas was on the ground. This time however, he was on top of Newt. He managed to get his arms beneath him so he wasn’t crushing the other boy, but he made no other move to get up. They sat there, both of them panting, for what seemed like minutes, but it had only been a few seconds. Thomas realized that this was the exact position they had been in when Newt followed Thomas into the maze, just they had traded places. Newt’s hands were still clutching the front of Thomas’ shirt, making their faces inches away. All at once, Thomas stopped trying to fight the small part of his brain. All of his thoughts about Newt, thoughts that were beyond just friendship, all came rushing forward.
Looking down at Newt, his eyes half closed in relief, not even seeming to care that Thomas hadn’t gotten up, his lips slightly parted as he breathed. At one point he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and now strands hung loose from the band, framing his face. It suddenly hit Thomas just how much he wanted to kiss him.
The thought was enough to make Thomas push himself to his feet, practically dragging Newt with him, his hands still wrapped tight in the fabric of Thomas’ shirt. Thomas had stood up so fast that it made Newt crash into his chest again, almost making Thomas fall back to the ground. He managed to steady himself and Newt as they both got their feet under them. Newt had finally let go of Thomas’ shirt and backed away a few steps, taking care to not put much weight on his bad leg.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, until Thomas broke the silence.
“Newt look, I-“ He stopped speaking as Newt rushed towards him. Thomas instinctively backed into the wall, wondering what Newt was doing. Then Newt’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a hug.
Thomas honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged anyone, and the feeling was so comforting that he hugged back in an instant, tucking his head down into Newt’s neck. He could feel Newt shaking, then realized that he was too. They had both almost died, and Thomas knew he would never forget that feeling.
They stayed like that for what felt like forever, clutching each other, until Thomas noticed the sun had risen. It must’ve happened while they were running and Thomas didn’t even realize.
They broke apart, and then Newt spoke. His voice seemed strained, as if he wanted to say something else first, but was stopping himself. “We’d better get back. The doors should be opening soon.” Thomas nodded and they started walking in the direction Thomas hoped headed back to the Glade. They had been walking for about an hour before Alby suddenly flashed in his mind.
“Alby!” He shouted suddenly, startling Newt, who looked confused at first before what Thomas said registered. They walked still because of Newt’s limp, but faster this time, trying to find Alby. They had been walking for close to an hour, both exhausted from an entire night in the maze, until they finally found where they had hidden Alby. Carefully releasing the vines, they lowered Alby to the ground and untied him. They managed to get him between them, sharing the weight as they dragged him back in the direction of the Glade. The sound of the doors opening made them both pick up their speed, anxious to be back and get Alby the serum he so desperately needed. Plus, Thomas was really hungry.
A few minutes later, they turned down the stretch of the maze and their eyes fell upon the Glade. A small crowd of people were staring down the hall, looking like they didn’t expect anything to turn up, and Thomas didn’t blame them.
A shout echoed towards them and Thomas recognized it to be Chuck. Smiles broke out on the Glader’s faces as more joined their group, including Minho, who had a look of amazement on his face. As soon as they made it past the threshold they were swarmed, the Medjacks took Alby and started back towards the Homestead to get him the serum. Questions were being yelled left and right and Thomas and Newt, who began to answer them.
-----
Almost 2 hours later, everything had calmed down. All of the excitement of them making it out of the maze, killing a griever, how they saved Alby, had finally died down to where people left them alone and they had eaten. Newt had gone off to visit Alby in the Homestead and make sure he was ok, but Thomas retreated to his favorite spot, back in the Deadheads. He leaned his back against the soft ivy where the corner of the glade was.
Taking a deep breath, Thomas allowed himself to finally relax and calm down after everything. His thoughts kept drifting back to Newt no matter how much he wanted them not to. After what had happened, Thomas was afraid that Newt wouldn’t want to speak to him, and the thought made his heart hurt. Until the prospect of losing Newt hit him, Thomas hadn’t realized just how much he had come to care for the other boy in the short time he had been here.
Then his thoughts went to the hug, and Thomas knew that no matter what, Newt was still his friend.
And that’s it. He told himself, trying to stop thinking about Newt in a way more than his best friend. At that thought, Thomas closed his eyes and could almost feel himself falling asleep.
----
His eyes snapped open. A sound from right in front of him had woken him up, and Thomas realized that it was now nighttime again. He had slept through the day, and still felt like he could sleep forever. At first he couldn’t make anything out in the dark, and his thoughts flashed back to when Ben had attacked him. His heart picked up speed as his body tensed, ready to run.
But all that came out of the woods was Newt, a blanket in his hands. He seemed surprised to see Thomas awake, looked like he wanted to turn back, but didn’t. Instead he picked his way over to Thomas, still limping more than usual after all of the pressure he had put on his leg lately.
When Newt sat down next to him, Thomas turned to face him and saw the other boy grinning slightly. Giving him a questioning look, Thomas wondered what he was so happy about. Newt looked back at him, and his face broke out into a giant smile, making Thomas’ heart skip a beat.
Even in the low light, Thomas could see the deep amber in Newt’s eyes, could see the golden strands of his hair stand out against the dark ivy behind him. Thomas didn’t notice that he was obviously staring at Newt until the boy laughed.
“Ya know what?” Newt had leaned his head back against the ivy, looking up at the night sky, stars twinkling brightly overhead. They reflected in his eyes, making them light up.
“What?” Thomas managed to get the word out even with his throat closing up as he realized just how screwed he was going to be when Newt told him he just wanted to be friends, told him he didn’t want to talk to him anymore, more scenarios of Newt being mad at him flashed acrossed his thoughts as Newt began to speak again.
He was still smiling as he said “I’m glad you’re not bloody dead Tommy. I’m really really glad.” His voice quieted and his smile faltered as he continued.
“We almost died in there. And ya know, coming that close to death makes you really think. And all I could think of was what I would regret if I never made it back out of that shuck maze.” Newt suddenly looked at Thomas with a blazing intensity in his eyes before taking a deep breath. “And all I could think of was you.”
Thomas let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Still staring into Newt’s eyes, he realized what he had said. He tried to speak, but the words came out in pieces until he stopped trying altogether.
Newt must have taken his reaction as one of dismissal, of rejection. The small smile on his face vanished, replaced with a tight grimace, and he nodded stiffly, said “Right, well, sleep tight, Thomas.” He dropped the blanket and started getting up.
Thomas’ hand shot out before he could stop himself, grabbing Newt’s wrist and pulling him back to the ground. Newt gave him a questioning glance, but it looked hurt also. The thought that Thomas had somehow caused Newt any kind of pain sent a stab of sadness through him. His hand still holding Newt’s wrist, Thomas’ voice came out in a whisper.
“Newt, when we were in the maze, I-. My only thoughts were how the hell we were going to get out of there. I was terrified, but then I realized that my fear wasn’t for me, not even Alby. It was all for you. You followed me out into the maze and the thought of losing you, it-” He had to stop himself before he got too emotional.
He took a shuddering breath before continuing.
“I realized that I care about you. I care about you more than anyone else in this stupid maze and more than just as a friend and I can’t hide it anymore. I was terrified of telling you, but even more of losing you.”
“Tommy…” His name came out of Newt’s mouth like a sigh of relief.
Thomas looked back up and saw that Newt was smiling. Newt gently took his arm out of Thomas’ grasp; he hadn’t realized he was still holding it; and laced their fingers together. They sat like that, facing each other, hands intertwined, backs to the soft ivy, the stars casting light down on them.
Newt sat up, still looking at Thomas, and began to lean in. Thomas’ heart skipped a few times as he realized what was happening. He managed to lean up and closed his eyes just as Newt’s lips met his.
He felt Newt’s hands grasp either side of his face and pull him closer, and Thomas put one hand on Newt’s waist and the other in his hair. He was almost ashamed to admit that he had wanted to touch Newt’s hair since day one, wanted to run his fingers through it, had imagined how it felt. Almost.
It was silky and smooth, and Thomas tangled his fingers into it, pressing into the kiss.
It felt like home. That was the only way Thomas could think of it. It was warm and comforting and familiar and he felt safe, pressed up against Newt, holding him, kissing him. With a jolt, Thomas realized that the first hug and kiss he remembered came from Newt, and he couldn’t be happier for it.
When they finally broke away, foreheads resting against each other, still holding each other, Newt’s hands both at Thomas’ waist now, their faces broke into smiles.
“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for way too long.” Newt mumbled in a low voice.
Thomas let out a laugh, and so did Newt.
Newt fell asleep first, his head resting on Thomas’ chest, their arms wrapped around each other, covered by the blanket Newt had brought. Thomas was stroking Newt’s hair as he drifted to sleep, feeling the most comfortable and safe as he ever remembered feeling.