thomas’s lashes fluttered open, his vision blurry at first before focusing on his surroundings. he didn’t recognize any of it: the stiff straw on the walls; the small table next to him, various things scattered haphazardly across it; the small yet sturdy bed that he was lying on.

the first thought that immediately came to his mind was distrust, which quickly turned into fear. “what was this place? what if he was in wckd’s hands again? what if they had done something to his friends?” his mind stumbled over the possibilities.

pushing himself up onto his elbows, a sharp jolt of pain went through his side and thomas had to suppress a grunt. his fingers brushed against the thick bandage that was tightened around his chest as he looked down to see a bit of blood already seeping through.

slowly, the memories started to come back to him. how they had infiltrated the wckd headquarters in order to find minho. how they had found him, surprisingly unharmed and less surprisingly ready to fight anyone who stood in their way. how janson had shot him.

how teresa had pushed him onto the berg at the last minute, and the look in her eyes as the building crumbled beneath her before she fell into the flames. how he had dragged newt, who had been flare-ridden near the brink of insanity. newt, who had sacrificed himself.

newt.

the pain in thomas’s gut tightened, although he knew it had little to do with his wound. he could already feel the tears coming as he desperately tried to blink them away.

newt had died trying to help thomas. and he had just left him there. they had all just left him there.

he hadn’t even noticed his hands forming tight fists until he uncurled them with a shuddering exhale and looked down to see deep crescent moons carved into his palm. “breathe in, breathe out.” thomas told himself, trying to calm down even though his mind was so fogged up.

with so many thoughts. so many horrifying images that he knew would be forever seared into his memory.

the sound of newt’s lifeless feet, dragging across the pavement. the emptiness of newt’s eyes when he let the disease take over, when he let himself go.

the softness of newt’s voice, of his last word, “tommy”, as if thomas’s name was a prayer. the warmth of newt’s fingers, already fading so fast, as he lay there on the floor. the silence of newt’s next breathe that never came.

thomas bolted himself out of the bed, out of the little hut he was in, trying to ignore the protests of his wound. he had to get away from his thoughts before they consumed him, before they completely drowned him in eternities worth of pain and guilt.

wiping a hand across his eyes, he frowned when they came away wet, not even realizing when he had started crying. stumbling down the path in his tear-ridden daze, he hadn’t even realised the place until after a few minutes of walking.

they had made it. the safe haven was real.

thomas choked back a relieved gasp at the sight of more and more people appearing in his view as he walked closer to, what he’d assumed, to be the center of the place. speaking of the place, the only word that the boy could find to describe it was breathtaking.

anywhere he looked, all he could see was a sandy white beach and miles upon miles of ocean, its surface shimmering under the sun. as thomas approached the common area, he started to notice more huts and tents, crowded onto the grassy land that was a bit farther in from the beach.

“thomas?”
he looked up, almost jumping at the sound of his name. his heart leaped into his mouth as he met the eyes of the owner of that voice. minho stared back at him with his oh-so-familiar sarcastic yet comforting grin, and thomas nearly started crying right then and there.

“oh god, are you gonna cry? taking one little gunshot wound’s really turned you into a wimp, huh?” minho cracked a smile, although his voice softened. the boy made his way over to thomas, who didn’t even dare to open his mouth, scared he would just end up bursting into tears.

“minho? it’s really you?” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “of course it’s me.” minho pulled thomas into a hug, and everything else the two of them had wanted to say vanished. the silence between them said enough.

“it’s good to have you back, shank. i missed you.”

thomas smiled. “it’s gonna take a lot more than just a gunshot to kill me.” he had meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, but minho must had noticed how his expression turned dark, as the other boy lifted a hand onto his shoulder. “you’re gonna ask about newt, aren’t you?”

“n-newt?” thomas was almost embarrassed at how easily minho had known exactly what he was thinking about. “what’s there to ask about? i mean, he’s dead.” just saying it out loud felt like a punch to the gut, and thomas could already feel the next onslaught of tears.

minho gave thomas a sympathetic look. “thomas. he’s not dead. he’s here.” the brunette boy blinked at him. once. twice. “minho, that’s not funny.” “well, i’m not joking.” the moment it slipped out of his mouth, thomas wanted to take his accusation back.

of course minho would never joke about something like that. about newt. taking a deep breath in, thomas started again. “but how? i watched him die.” “it’s a long story. but you can either stand here and listen to my ass explain it to you, or you can go see him and ask yourself.”

thomas searched minho’s eyes, and found only sympathy and truth in it, as well as a bit of happiness. like he’d known this would happen the moment thomas woke up. standing up slightly straighter, he looked minho in the eyes before saying,

“take me to him.”