Thomas found Minho at the edge of the crowd around the bonfire.
The Immunes had decided to begin the building and producing progressions tomorrow, and tonight, all they needed was a utter rest. After all of things and perishes they've been through, Thomas guessed they deserved this.
Through the milling people, Thomas could see Minho was staring off blankly into some place on the grass, crouching low on the ground. The spread green of vegetation was now a dark shadow under the dim light of sky, and Thomas could see the darkness perched on his friend's face.
Friend, Thomas thought in an odd numbness. This term seemed to mean something yet he couldn't feel a thing in its pronouncement. Brenda's face popped into his head somehow, but Thomas pushed it aside. He was surprised at his reaction, but he decided to do so all the same. He had this feeling that this time he wanted to be with Minho and nobody could disturb it. Only with Minho.
Minho didn't crane his neck when Thomas made his toward him, but he muttered something Thomas couldn't hear.
"What?" Thomas asked, taking a sit next Minho on the ground.
"So I guess this is it, huh?" Minho said in a flat voice, "we are here, and we are going to live happily ever after?"
"I guess so." Thomas shrugged. They both fell in silence for a moment before Thomas broke it.
"What's in your head then?" It was weird to ask such a thing to Minho, and until this second Thomas realized they had never had conversation like this. When was last time he really cared about what Minho thought, he couldn't remember. Suddenly a strong feeling rushed through his body, yet he could not grab at it directly.
Minho let out a laugh, but there wasn't much joy in it. "What's in my head? Well, there are plenty of cluncks, really. One thing of all, I am pissed off. I am so pissed off that Newt is not here, that this freaking virus had eaten at his brain and turned him into a pile of shank, and I even hadn't had a chance to meet him one last time. I hadn't even got a chance to wave him good bye."
Something clawed through Thomas's heart and made him almost want to leap. Newt's last words were still echoing around him, his anger, his hatred, those were too much to bear.
"I miss him, too." Thomas replied quietly.
"Yeah, gladded to hear that. And now we are sitting here save and sound, and he was sticking with those freaking Cranks and probably just trying to rip somebody's inside out. Happy ever after, all right."
Thomas suddenly regretted to talk to him. He didn't want the direction of this conversation be like this, since he couldn't say anything meaningful enough. Minho was too smart-aleck to be consoled, and he surely wasn't a good candidate to give out any consolation.
"I am... I am really sorry about Newt." Thomas said dreadly, and he meant it.
"I am gonna say something shuck, Thomas, and please try to slim it nice and calm."
Thomas answered by a shrug.
"I wish I could have killed him myself."
Thomas's eyes widened in stun. His heart thumped wildly, almost leaping out of his throat. He made himself stay silent and waited. Minho didn't look at him, his fingers played with the blades of grass, almost absent.
"I could've killed him the first time we found him in that Crank Palace. Dude, I knew he would appreciate it, nice and fine. Shuck it, I should had done that. At least that was something I could offer him!"
Thomas stunned by the last shouting words from Minho, and then he was startled to see Minho's shoulders began to shiver.
He never seen he like this before. Ever.
"Minho, I-"
"Spare me your pity, dude. No need for that." Minho forced a grin, but it was more like a grimace. "I just hate myself, letting him suffer like that. We were supposed to be his friends, and what in the world have we done to him?"
Thomas couldn't bear it anymore.
"Minho, I..." Thomas choked by those words he decided to say. Minho stared at him, his brows lifted.
"I have something to tell you."
"Then get out of it nice and fast."
And Thomas followed his instruction. Starting from the note Newt gave him back in the hangar, Thomas talked about their meeting in the Crank Palace, and then his discovery of its content, and their final talk at the alley, and the most dreadful and painful part, his shooting in Newt's head.
Thomas hadn't realized how hurt it had been until now, after he narrated these things to Minho, the pain of it was refreshing and alive, gnawing his heart like some beasts. All over again.
He panted, staring at his friend, wanting to hear something taunting from his mouth but nothing was coming out. Minho's head tilted away from him, and all he could see was Minho's black hair, shining and glittering because of the fire.
"So, say something," Thomas whispered dryly, "anything, just talk to me, Minho."
With the last words out, his voice croaked. His eyes felt stinging, tears starting to filled. He didn't want to cry like a baby, but he realized this wasn't what he could force. He had never cried for Newt one time, and it seemed like today was the day to let go of those emotions.
And then the world around him toppled down. Before he understood what was going on, his jaw was hit by a fist. The pain spread out, and he immediately knew that was from Minho. Minho pinned him on the ground, sprawling on his back, his knees wedging into right place to stop Thomas from escaping. And his fists fell on Thomas's face like ferocious storm. Even if he didn't pin him, Thomas would not escape. His face was hurt like being burnt by fire, but it was no match to the agony inside his heart. He deserved this, and he knew it too well. This was not only from Minho, but also from Newt. So he didn't fight back.
"You such shuck-face!" Minho yelled in rough voice, "How could you do that, huh? How could you do that to him? To me? How could you conceal all these things from me! I am too shuck to be trusted, huh? You're always such a noble kid, and you're always the one who looked up at, of course you don't want to share this little secret with me!"
"l am sorry." Thomas muttered, feeling blood tickled down his jaw. He could sense that everyone was staring at their fight, but no one came to separate them.
And he didn't know when Minho had stopped punching him, his jaw and cheeks burnt, and Minho somehow prostrated in his chest, grabbing his cloth tightly, hands shivering, shoulders heaving.
"I am sorry, dude, I am so sorry," Minho mumbled, "I didn't mean it, you know I didn't mean any of these... I was just..."
Thomas seized his shoulders. Despite his hurting face, he could feel how sorrowful Minho felt. "I know." he replied. "I miss him a lot, just like you."
Minho let out a suffering bark, Thomas wondered if it was meaning a laugh. And Minho popped up his head, grabbing Thomas's upper body closed to him, "You are not gonna leave me, you hear that? I can bear anyone's leaving, but not yours. My every single friend left me behind, and I am not gonna take any one anymore! And you're freaking more than that to me! You hear me?"
Thomas thought he would be stunned by the declaration, yet an odd peace settled into his heart. This was exactly what he would like to hear for now. He was more than that, and he didn't want to think about that yet. And at this moment, he realized that how important Minho meant to him. From the very beginning, when Minho chose him to be his runner, he realized by now, Minho had been the strongest support and the closest friend of his, and he couldn't remeber how many time Minho had saved his life.
He had spent too many time to think about Teresa, and then about Brenda, and then about Newt. Minho was always at the back of his heart. Perhaps it was because he was too tough, too strong and too smart-aleck, Thomas didn't even have a thought to spare his consideration to him. His heart thumped wildly, and the two of them stuck on the ground, panting and whipping. Minho was whipping, he was shocked by this notion, Minho was crying.
"It was stupid, dude." Minho muttered, "But to be honest, I couldn't even imagine what it was like when you were not with me. Shuck it, I can only remember you and I running inside that freaking Maze and fighting the freaking Grievers together. It felt like you were with me since the very first day, you know that?"
"Well, that was true. Somehow." Thomas pointed out, "I was with you since my freaking first day of Greenie." And he meant it. He had never felt it so strong untill now, but in some way Thomas wanted to say the same thing to him.
He wouldn't want to be apart with Minho ever again. This thought made him almost want to smile.
"And you are not gonna spare me any shuck thing, good that?" Minho asked. His face smeared with tears and mud, but he was grinning.
"Good that." Thomas replied. And he kwen that Minho know exactly what he was thinking about.
Then Minho lose his grip and retreated from Thomas's body. He helped Thomas up, and Thomas took a seat next to him.
The crowd turned to face the bonfire again, leaving them alone again.
"Well, you know what I am thinking right now?" Thomas exhaled a long breath. His face was still hurt, but not his heart, at least not now.
"What?"
Thomas look at Minho, his face shimmering because of the fire flare.
"We're starting this world all over again, nice and fresh," Thomas said quietly, "and I don't want any of those responsibilities weighing on my shoulders. At least not these several days."
"And what the freaking responsibility are you talking about?" Minho started to snicker and made Thomas want to punch him in the face, but in the good way. He knew that it meant Minho was thinking about the same thing, just like him.
