Okay, so picture that after his long sad walk along the beach, Thomas heads out to stand on the deck of Vince's wrecked boat. That's when this story starts.

Shoutout to Tattered_Dreams on Ao3/ open hearts catch dreams on here for proofreading and encouraging me with this story. Also, she came up with the poetic title so I'm holding responsible for the mess that this will become, especially given that this story contains four of her OC's, one from The Eden Switch and three from Ghosts That Linger. So, I definitely recommend check those out. I should also add, the first chapter of Ghosts That Linger is canon in this fic, it happened between The Scorch Trials and The Death Cure. But only the first chapter!

Also, I should mention everyone in the TMR discord chat, you know who you are! You're all awesome. Thank you for giving me so many ideas.

Group A Slang - Group B Slang

Greenie/Greenbean - Fedgling/Flee

Shuck - Stick

Shank - Shiv

Klunk - Mut

Slinthead - Muthead

Slim it - Reign it

Jacked - Screwball

Deadheads - Whirlwoods

Thomas stared out at the island absently, his mind a million miles away as the soft, salty waves lapped at the side of the boat.

He'd read the letter. And then he'd read it again and again.

He'd asked Vince if anyone else was in need. He'd asked Minho, Fry and even Gally for their opinions. Thomas had even listened to Harriet, Brenda, Aris and Jorge's less biased thoughts on the matter.

But they'd all basically said the same thing.

The same thing that Teresa had said.

That their opinions or thoughts didn't matter. The cure was Thomas' to with as he pleases and Newt would have trusted his judgment.

It was Sonya of all people who'd originally given him the idea. He'd been talking to Vince, asking him if anyone else was sick when she'd quietly stepped in—she seemed to do so much quietly nowadays.

It was the same day that Thomas had woken up, a quiet moment during the campfire, he'd told Vince about the cure, that he had it and he had nothing to do with it. Sonya had interrupted, with a soft "I thought someone would have told you. But they haven't… We have him. Newt. We brought him back."

After Thomas had left to go after WCKD, Minho, Gally and Frypan had taken him back to the berg and Sonya had refused to give up hope on him. Everyone else had said it was too late, but there was something in Sonya that had seemingly broken during her time as a prisoner and backed up by Harriet's daring look; nobody had gotten in her way. So, in the two weeks that Thomas had been unconscious, Sonya had been going back to the ship, changing IV's and simultaneously forgetting almost everything that Mary had taught her about being a medic.

But what stuck with Thomas, crazy or not, was that she refused to give up hope.

Now, he looked down at the vial in his hands, the warm rays of sun glinting off of the electric blue serum inside made it look so much more… mundane. Like this wasn't the answer to so many people's problems, like people hadn't killed or been killed over it.

He drew it back into his fist, closing his fingers around it tightly and with a heavy sigh, he looked down, over the rails at the battered, derelict ship. It was a complete rust bucket, which had somehow made this entire new civilization possible. It was pretty impressive.

From the moment Sonya had said they'd brought him back, Thomas' mind had been made up. A part of him wondered if it was a waste of such a valuable cure; giving it to a dead person. But for the most part, he didn't care. He was going to do it anyway.

Soft footfalls came across the deck behind him and Thomas glanced up to see that Brenda had come to stand next to him. With her hands in her pockets as she too looked out towards the island with a calm look on her face and Thomas got the impression that she liked being at sea better than on the sand.

"Have you decided?" she spoke the words softly, barely above a whisper but the weight behind them seemed to hang in the air.

Thomas clenched his jaw and gave the sharpest of nods. Brenda didn't look the slightest bit surprised, she just stepped back to let him walk past. He moved on autopilot across the deck, through the maze of corridors and to the cabin to where Newt was.

He hesitated slightly at the end of the passage. Minho, Fry, Gally, Harriet, Aris, Jorge and even Vince were all hanging around outside the cabin, clearly waiting for something, probably him.

Brenda moved past him, her hand brushing his for a second before she joined the rest of the group. Everyone looked up at Thomas with varying degrees of desperation and expectancy. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came.

What could be said to make this better?

Instead, he moved past them, lingering only slightly as Frypan reached out and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

As Thomas stepped inside the cabin and his eyes were drawn immediately to the bed and even after everything, it felt as though something inside of him broke a little.

This was the first time he'd seen him since the plaza.

Newt lay on the bed, quiet and still. His pale grey skin didn't make the dark veins from the flare any less prominent but Thomas' eyes moved past that. To how gaunt his once slender, but healthy body looked.

Sonya was standing next to the bed, fiddling seemingly unnecessarily with a bag of IV fluid that was connected to the cannula just below Newt's elbow. She looked up as he stepped further into the room, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy like she hadn't slept in days.

"I won't stop," she said, her voice small and broken, but a defiant glint still strong in her eyes and Thomas didn't doubt her.

"I'm not asking you to," he replied, holding up the vial of cure between his forefinger and his thumb; watching as Sonya's eyes widened hopefully.

She spun around, fumbling through her bag for her bag of medical supplies for a minute before coming up with a slightly battered, but functional auto-injector. With trembling hands, she held it out to him.

"Into the muscle on his thigh," she instructed softly, "it'll work faster." Thomas nodded slightly. Stepping forward, he took the injector, connecting the vial the device made a small hiss and Thomas found himself holding his breath as the light flashed green.

He knew that some people on the island thought this was stupid. Illogical. A waste, even.

And it probably was.

But Thomas didn't care.

If he was going to give the cure to anyone; it was going to be Newt. It was always going to be Newt.

Thomas perched on the edge of the bed and before he could second-guess himself any further, he pressed the needle through Newt's pants leg and straight into his thigh. He waited until the light flashed again and all of the serum had left the vial before pulling it slowly away, letting the vial rest in his lap for a moment as he looked down at his friend.

It was done.

The cure was gone.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation finally catching up to him but for the briefest of seconds, he could have sworn he saw Newt's chest rise. Writing it off as his mind playing tricks on him, Thomas turned away. He reached out to set the injector on Sonya's vacated chair and everything happened at once.

Newt's body jerked violently in the sheets. Sonya gave a small scream of surprise and Thomas whipped back around so fast, he nearly fell off of the edge of the bed.

Newt's body—no, Newt shot upright with a strangled breath. Reaching out to steady himself, he grabbed hold of Thomas' arm tightly. His eyes darting around in panic, fingernails biting into Thomas' skin as his breaths came out in sharp wheezes.

Hearing the commotion, everyone who was waiting in the corridor rushed inside but faltered in the doorway, their eyes widening at the scene in front of them.

"Holy fucking shit!" Brenda exclaimed and her outburst seemed to snap everyone out of it.

Thomas twisted his arms around to take Newt's hands to stop him from trying to struggle in his blind panic. He was vaguely aware of Sonya barking orders but he couldn't focus on anything but the person in front of him.

"Newt?" he shouted, desperation clear in his voice. "Newt? It's Thomas, can you hear me? Look at me. Tell me what's wrong?"

Newt faltered at the sound of Thomas' voice, his face calming for a second. He looked as though he was going to say something but before he could get the words out a strange vacant expression settled on his face and for a moment it was eerie. Until it wasn't. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell heavily back against the mattress, his body jerking and spasming uncontrollably.

"Roll him onto his side!" Sonya barked, rushing forwards to help pull Newt over as he convulsed. "Where the fuck is that oxygen?!"

"Here!" Vince said, rushing back into the room, a metal tank in one hand and a mask in the other. He set it on the floor next to the IV stand, twisting the dial with one hand while he held the mask over Newt's face the best he could with the other.

"Come on, come on," Sonya murmured again and again, trying to hold Newt in place while clearly waiting for something. After another minute the seizure started to relax and Newt fell back limp against the bed. Sonya reached forwards, resting her hand on his chest for a second before a bright grin that Thomas had never seen on her split across her face and she dropped back on her heels. "He's got a strong pulse," she declared and a collective sigh of relief went around the room.

Vince hooked the oxygen mask around the back of Newts' head before stepping back, running a weary hand over his face. "What—" he faltered. "What just happened?"

Everyone looked to Sonya—as the only medically trained person in the room—for answers but she just smiled slightly.

"My reason for not giving up."

.

After Sonya rigged up two new IV bags, checked Newt's pulse and shone a light in his eyes for the fourth time Gally finally lost his patience with her stalling.

"Will someone explain what the fuck we just saw?" he demanded and Sonya hesitated, brushing Newt's hair away from his eyes for a second. When she turned around to look back at the rest of the group she faltered.

"I don't—" A tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't—I don't know what happened," she admitted softly.

"We saw him—" Minho broke off with a pointed wave of his arms.

"We saw him die," Gally said, advancing on Sonya angrily. "Everyone but you thought he was dead. He was dead! But all this time you knew he wasn't and you never told us."

"Hey," Harriet snapped, stepping in between them, glaring at Gally pointedly. "She did tell you. She told all of us she didn't think he was dead. But none of you—none of us believed her. So rather than screaming at Sonya, the only person who's likely to have any answers, why don't you calm the fuck down and listen to what she has to say."

Gally and Harriet stared at each other for a tense minute before Gally stepped back, holding his hands up in defeat with a slight nod of apology.

"Sonya," Vince said, his voice gentle, "what's been going on?"

Sonya looked up at him with angry, tear-filled eyes. "You all thought I was crazy is what's been going on," she said. "I know you all thought WCKD broke me and that I refused to give up on Newt because I was crazy. I know you've only been letting me treat him because you're humouring me. I know." Everyone except Thomas at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed but Sonya didn't care. She wasn't done. "But I'm not crazy! I'm not a doctor but I know that comas and being unconscious can slow a heartbeat and breathing so much that without technology you can't detect them. You thought he was dead, maybe I did too but… still, I've been giving him a mixture of saline and nutrients this entire time. I treated the knife wound, it wasn't that major with everything else that was going on. But I don't know…"

"Okay," Vince said quietly, "okay. We know how the flare effects people. Humans—even infected ones—need a certain amount fluids and nutrients to survive before their bodies give out. If Newt was dehydrated or malnourished then his body would keep him unconscious while it tried to heal itself. If he was only getting a couple of IV's a day then it wouldn't have been enough for him to wake up."

Sonya nodded slightly. "The cure being a shock to his system was probably the only reason he woke up and then had a seizure. But now, the enzyme in the cure is attacking every infected cell in his body and that's going to take even more out of him," she said, "but the fact that his brain registered that something's changed and that he had a seizure is a good thing. It means the flare didn't do any irreversible nerve damage. But it also means that when he does wake up, he's going to be in a lot of pain."

"So, what do we do?" Frypan asked, his voice quiet and full of worry.

"We wait," Sonya replied simply. "We get him some more fluids, keep him on oxygen twenty-four-seven and I need to go and see what this bucket of rust's medical supplies look like. He's gonna need a lot of painkillers, antibiotics, a cannula… I want to move him there if we can and then as soon as he's stronger and completely uninfected I want him on the island where it's easier to check up on him."

Vince nodded. "Whatever you need," he said.

Sonya scrunched up her face as she wracked her brain for anything she'd missed but when she came up with nothing she nodded again. "I'll be in the med bay, don't leave him on his own. Come and get me if anything happens." She didn't wait for a reply, already moving towards the door but Minho reached out, catching her elbow before she could leave.

Sonya tensed at the touch but didn't push him away as she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, sincerity and pain shining in his eyes, "and thank you."

I didn't do it for you. Sonya wanted to say, but instead, she inclined her head slightly, waiting for him to let go of her arm before she left the room.

She moved on autopilot through the passages and into the small med bay to start rummaging through the shelves.

There wasn't much here, some basic meds had been moved onto the island and what was left was all they had.

Sonya's eyes scanned over the supplies, several boxes of saline and bandages, some basic vials of morphine and antibiotics. A few vitals monitors and wires that didn't work anymore, a feeding tube with no formula and some basic surgical equipment.

Sonya grabbed a spare oxygen tank, tossing it on top of the table with several IV bags and other supplies to take back to Newt's room.

"Sonya?"

Sonya stopped what she was doing to look towards the door where a hesitant looking Aris was leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey," she said softly, setting the bag of gauze she was holding on the table before looking back to him.

"I don't think you're crazy," he blurted out and then hesitated. "I never thought you were crazy."

Sonya managed to give him a soft smile, reaching out a hand towards him and when he took it, she slid an arm around his waist, leaning her head against his for a minute.

"I know you didn't," she said and she meant it. They'd been side by side practically throughout WCKD's experiments. They each knew the other wasn't broken.

"Did you really know that he was alive though?" he asked and Sonya hesitated.

"No," she said honestly, "I couldn't find a pulse, his breathing was so shallow it undetectable. If he was anyone else I would have called it but… I couldn't do it. You might not have thought I was crazy, but I probably would've."

Aris made a disagreeing noise but didn't argue with her, instead, he asked, "are you going to tell them why you really couldn't give up?"

Sonya considered it for a moment before she answered. "No," she said, "I'm not telling anyone else until I tell Newt."

Aris nodded against her shoulder until a shuffling in the doorway caught their attention and they drew apart. Harriet was leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, fiddling with her fingers almost anxiously with a hurt look on her face.

"Hey, Aris, can you give us a sec?" she requested softly and Aris nodded, swiping an armful of supplies off of the table to take back to Newt's room before he slid out of the room. Harriet didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at Sonya in that calm, assessing way that she used to back in the Glade like she was figuring everything about you out. "I'm sorry," she finally said and Sonya's eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" she asked.

"I'm sorry that it seemed like I doubted you or was questioning you. Because I wasn't. No matter what other people's opinions are, I don't care. No matter what; I will stand by you, okay? I might not have believed something that I couldn't see. But I believe and trust in you. I need you to know that you never need to question where I stand," Harriet said and tears sprung to Sonya's eyes at the conviction in her tone.

Sonya nodded, trying to wipe her tears away. "I'm sorry too. And I do trust you. I trust you to tell me when I am being crazy because I think sometimes I am going crazy now and I do crazy things for reasons I can't explain and I—" she broke off as she choked back a sob and Harriet stepped forward.

"Oh, babe…" she said softly and Sonya let Harriet draw her into her arms. Harriet pressed a soft kiss to her hair, holding her tightly. "You're not crazy. Trust me when I say that you're not crazy. I promise you."

"But if I act like I am—"

"Then I will tell you," Harriet promised softly. "Are we good?"

Sonya nodded, burying her face further into Harriet's shoulder. "We're good."

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