Hey. Another version I wrote for how things could have happened in chapter 55 of the Death Cure. There are a couple of small sections in this fic that are quoted directly from the book. All credit for those parts goes to James Dashner, as do the characters Newt, Thomas and Lawrence.

"I hate you, Tommy!" Newt was only a few feet away and Thomas took a step backwards, his hurt over Newt turning to fear. "I hate you I hate you I hate you! After all I did for you, after all the klunk I went through in the bloody Maze, you can't even do the one and only thing I have ever asked you to do! I can't even look at your ugly shuck face!"

Thomas took two more steps back. "Newt, you need to stop. They're going to shoot you. Just stop and listen to me! Please! Get in the van, let me tie you up. Give me a chance! I can't lose you. I can't lose you!" He couldn't kill his friend. He just couldn't.

Newt screamed and rushed forward. An arc of Launcher lightning shot from the van, skidding and crackling across the pavement, but it missed him Thomas had frozen in place, and Newt tackled him to the ground, knocking the breath out of him. He struggled to fill his lungs as his old friend climbed on top of him and pinned him down. His hands gripped tightly at Thomas's shirt, and he glared down at the boy underneath him, with a rage filled stare.

The pair remained silent for a short while, before Newt's eyes cleared a little, as if he'd managed to locate one last trembling gasp of sanity. "Why won't you do this for me, Tommy?"

Thomas's heart shattered as he gazed up into his friend's wild eyes and heard the begging tone that laced his question. "I… I just can't, Newt."

"Please, Tommy. I need this." The older boy begged, a single tear drop running down his left cheek. "Don't let me become one of them. I don't want to die a monster."

A part of Thomas wanted to do what Newt asked - even though he would never voice the thought out loud, some part of him knew that dying now was probably the best option for Newt. His hair had been torn out in patches, leaving bald spots that were nothing more than red welts. Scratches and bruises covered his face; his shirt was ripped, barely hanging on to his thin frame, and his pants were filthy with grime and blood. And worst of all was his eyes - madness lurked behind them now, two festering pools of sickness. But no matter how much Thomas tried to convince himself that it would be for the best, he just couldn't bring himself to pull out his gun and squeeze the trigger. "I'm sorry, Newt. I just can't do it."

"WHY?"

"Because…" Thomas paused, stopping himself from revealing his true feelings, although if there was ever a time to let Newt know how he felt, it was now.

"Because, what?" Newt questioned, angrily, saliva spraying over Thomas.

"Because, I love you." Thomas answered honestly, staring into his friend's eyes, silently begging him to see things from his point of view. "I love you."

Newt's eyes widened and he stiffened above Thomas, clearly shocked by the confession.

"I love you." Thomas repeated a third time, when the silence continued.

Newt slowly leaned forward and place a gentle kiss to the other boy's lips, before pulling back a little and gazing sadly into his eyes, as he began to plead with him. "Please. Please. Kill me, Tommy. Please."

"Newt…"

"Please."

"I can't. I…"

"Do it!"

"I can't"

"Kill me!"

"Newt…"

"Come on Tommy! Be a man! You owe me! Make amends! Do the right thing! Do it! Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!" Newt became more erratic and maddened with every demand.

Thomas watched his friend and love shake more and more every time he yelled, the wildness spreading further in eyes, as the flare consumed him on the inside, grasping onto the last remaining strand of sanity, Newt was trying so hard to hold onto.

A second arc of Launcher lightning shot from the van, once again missing Newt and flying over the top of them. Lawrence obviously didn't want to risk hitting Thomas.

"I told you, I can't!" Thomas let a few tears escape him. "I love you."

Newt laughed, although it was far from a happy, jolly laugh. "You're such a selfish Shank. If you really loved me, you'd do this for me. You wouldn't let me become one of those things. You selfish bloody Slinthead!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Do it! Kill me! Kill me, you selfish piece of klunk!"

"I CAN'T!"

Once again Newt regained some sort of sanity, as the fiery wildness in his stare died a little and his voice softened to a gentle whisper. "Please, Tommy. Please."

Tears fell freely down both boys' faces now.

Thomas leaned up and pressed a feather light kiss to Newt's lips, as his hand reached into his jeans and pulled out the loaded pistol, bringing it up to about an inch from Newt's head.

"I love you, Newt."

"I love you too, Tommy." Newt replied, softly. "But this is for the best. Please do it for me. Please kill me now, before I no longer recognise you."

Thomas let out a choked sob, as he nodded. "Close your eyes. I don't think I have the strength to pull the trigger with you looking at me."

"Thank you, Tommy." Newt let out a sigh of relief and let his lids fall shut. Thomas gazed up at his friend and couldn't believe how calm and peaceful he looked.

His vision shifted between the gun in his right hand and the beautiful boy on top of him and he knew what he had to do.

Gathering all the strength he had left, Thomas pulled the pistol as far away from Newt's head as he could in their current position, then swiftly swung his arm towards the boy, connecting the end of the gun with the side of Newt's head.

Newt's eyes flew open, but the disorientated boy didn't have time to think about what was happening to him, before a second blow was delivered by Thomas, quickly followed by a third, knocking the blond haired boy unconscious.

Thomas made quick work of lifting his friend and carefully dragging him towards the vehicle waiting for him, hoping and praying that the other Cranks were either too busy to notice, or too indifferent to care about, what was going on.

As Thomas reached the van, Lawrence jumped out, glaring at the unconscious form in Thomas's arms "No way! You are not bringing one of those things onto this van."

"Please." Thomas begged, hysterically. "I love him. We'll find a way to help him, make things better. I'll tie him up as soon as I get him on the van. I can't leave him out here. Please, let me try and help him. I love him. I love him."

"Calm it, kid." The man glanced between the two boys and couldn't help but pity them. "Look, I'm sorry, but this kid is almost past the Gone. If WICKED couldn't do anything, with all those brains and over two years of research, how are you going to suddenly find a cure?"

"I… I don't know. Maybe I won't and I'll end up killing him, but I can't leave him here." Thomas answered, somewhat calmer than before. "I have to at least try. I owe him that much. Please. I love him."

Lawrence let out a long huff of annoyance, before closing his eyes and stepping to the side. "Get him in the van and tied up immediately. Make it tight, I don't care if he's carrying you child, if he breaks out of the restraints, I'll shoot him dead, without hesitation."

"Good that."

Once Thomas had positioned Newt as comfortably as possible, he tied the older boy down with everything available to them in the van. Thomas wasn't going to take any chances – he knew Lawrence wasn't joking about killing Newt at the first sign of trouble.

After double checking all of the restraints, he made his way to the front of the van, as Lawrence shifted it into gear and began to pull away.

"Thank you." He whispered, almost inaudibly, but Lawrence heard him.

"Don't mention it, kid." Thomas nodded and smiled slightly. "No, seriously, don't mention it. I don't want a word of this to get back to anyone. Now get back there and keep an eye on your boyfriend."

"Okay."

Thomas wasn't sure how long he'd been sat across from Newt, gazing over his love's broken form, when Newt began to stir. Thomas held his breath, as Newt lifted his head slowing and his eyes cautiously flickered open. The awakening started off calm, until Newt's stare locked onto Thomas's after he took in his surroundings. He tried to stand, but couldn't, due to the numerous amount of ropes, hoses and cables keeping him held tightly in place. The boy struggled wildly against the items that bound him, but the knots were so well tied, they didn't budge.

He let out a piercing scream as he continued to thrash aggressively in every direction, attempting to free himself as any cost.

Thomas remained frozen in his seat, confident in himself that the restraints would hold, but highly worried about Newt's current mental state. He had never looked more past the Gone than he did at this moment. Thomas couldn't stop himself from wondering if he had made the wrong decision. But he had to try, he couldn't just kill his best friend, the boy he loved, without at least trying first.

Eventually, Newt began to calm himself down, either that or he ran out of energy. The screaming and screeching stopped and he tugged lightly at the ropes and cables, instead of hysterically. "Why did you do this, Tommy? I trusted you. Why couldn't you kill me? Don't you see how much worse than death this is for me? Why, Tommy? Why?"

Thomas could only think of one way to answer Newt's question – the older boy had already pointed out the true reasons behind Thomas's actions when they were outside. What he had done wasn't what Newt wanted or needed. It was all for himself. He needed Newt.

"Because, I'm selfish."

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