"Don't you ever get the weird impression that you still have some fragments of memory from your old life deep in your mind?"
Newt was laying on his bed with Thomas, his eyes glued to the ceiling, deep in his thoughts. He heard a shuffle beside him, and guessed that the brunet must had turned his head to look at him, probably giving him a questionning look. They had been laying down in silence for almost twenty minutes, only hearing the light snoring of their friends occupying the others bunk beds, until Newt had absent-mindely voiced a thought he had had in mind for years out loud. Well, out loud was an overstatement since his voice had been barely above a whisper, not wanting to wake the others up.
"I can't get a hold of it, but... It feels like it's there." Newt resumed. "Just waiting for me to remember."
Newt didn't even know what had pushed him to keep talking. This thought had been occupying his mind for a long time now, but he had never bothered to tell anyone about it, thinking it was just an impression and nothing else. That moment just felt like the right time to tell someone about it. He was laying next to Thomas in his bed, a deep silence had settled between them, and he could feel the comfortable warmth of the brunet's body next to him. Everything just felt so calm and soothing, but especially, it all felt very normal. Like it was just how it was supposed to be, spending their nights quietly talking to each other until they both slowly drifted into sleep in the same bed. They had only started doing it three days after arriving into the facility. Thomas had felt restless, tossing and turning in his bed, until he had heard Newt telling him to "bloody stop moving so much" from the bed above him. They had started talking quietly, and at some point the brunet had climbed into his friend's bed. Falling asleep together hadn't been their intention, but the next day, waking up next to each other hadn't felt weird at all, and their friends didn't even look twice, so they just kept doing it, realizing that finding sleep was easier when they weren't alone. It had now been a week, and none of them planned on stopping this "cohabitation" that had become for them an habit.
A few seconds passed, and Newt wondered for a second if Thomas had fallen asleep, until a quiet voice finally rose up beside him. "You have some memories?"
"More like an old dream you barely remember, where everything is blurry and all you can really remember is the atmosphere." Newt reckoned, a soft smile on his lips. "I remember a secluded house. A warm feeling of safety. The sun. And a pale shade of blue."
A comfortable silence settled between them, and when Newt turned his head to glance at Thomas, he was greeted by a pair of wide doe eyes staring at him intently. There was something in his eyes that Newt couldn't quite put his finger on. His stare wasn't sparkling with interest, or worry, it was just really calm. His half-lidded eyes seemed thoughtful and gave out softness and affection. He had a lazy smile on his face that the blond would probably have fallen for if he wasn't already deeply in love. "It seems very peaceful." Thomas muttered after a few seconds, his voice a little hoarse. "I wish I'd have some pieces of memory like this." A small smile tugged at the corners of Newt's lips, as he turned his head to look back at the ceiling, finding himself incapable of holding his friend's penetrating stare any longer.
"Do you think we'll get our memory back one day?" Newt asked in a breath, his soft features suddenly creased with a grave expression.
Thomas kept silent for a few seconds, and the blond immediately knew that he wasn't looking for an answer: the brunet just didn't know if he had the heart to tell him the truth. From the corner of his eyes, Newt saw him move a little, shifting to be in the same position as him, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "... I don't know." His voice came out in a whisper, filled with sorrow. Newt could almost hear an apology behind his tone, and, for some reason, he hated it. The last thing he wanted was to hear Thomas speaking like that. He was the one who always believed in a better life, the one who made them fight. He was never apologetic, because he was never giving up.
"But," Thomas carefully took Newt's hand in his, his fingers barely touching his skin as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever held, "for now, we don't need that sun. We have you."
In this kind of situation, Newt would have expected a fluttering heart, butterflies in his stomach or rosy cheeks, and yet, as the words slowly sunk in, he only felt a warm feeling of happiness spreading through him. No blushing, no stuttering, just pure and unconcealed joy. He was over the exciting, crazy phase of falling in love. The obsession had turned into a deep affection, the blazing fire had become a gentle but consuming flame inside of him. He squeezed Thomas' hand tightly in his, and felt a gentle smile grow on his face. Holding someone's hand had never felt so right.
"We need to talk about the subject A2, Thomas Edison."
Despite the late hour, a few voices could be heard echoing in the corridors of the east quarter, a quarter only a few scientists had access to. It was where everything happened, it was what Janson had promised to the young people they received every months as "greener pastures". He couldn't even imagine what would happen if Thomas came to discover that the greener pastures were in reality cold dark rooms where people were hanged from the ceiling while having their life pumped out of them. He had never feared one of their subjects so much. Thomas was a real threat for them, he was impulsive, unpredictable, and was surrounded by secrets that were only waiting to be discovered. He was described by many as a time bomb, but Janson didn't see it that way. Thomas wasn't the bomb, he was the spark, and the facility was nothing but a giant explosive. Thomas only needed to find the informations he was searching for everything to be over. One small spark among the building, and everything would collapse.
That was why Janson had convoked a few of the scientists that had worked on Thomas' group for an emergency meeting at almost midnight. He wanted a solution, and he wanted it now. He couldn't risk to lose it all just because he had waited with his arms crossed, hoping that Thomas just wouldn't attempt to do anything.
"A few security guards has reported to me that he has started acting suspiciously. He is trying to figure out things, and I have no doubt he'll take no time in finding a way to get the informations he wants, which means we have to act now." Janson stated, standing in front of the few scientists. "We can't risk him starting a revolution here, we have to break him, to reduce him to nothing."
A cold, heavy silence settled in the room as the scientists eyed each other warily, unsure of what to do. They knew that WCKD didn't have the most orthodox ways to figure out a cure, but they still felt uneasy with the idea of purposely arming a young person, especially if it wasn't directly linked with the search of a treatment to save the world. They were just scientists, after all. What seemed like a few minutes had already passed, until Janson set his eyes on a woman in her thirties with short blonde hair, getting impatient. The woman, called Graham, opened her mouth, about to protest, when she was cut by one of her collegues.
"He takes his strenght from his friends. He fights for, and with them." the man answered, drawing the other's attention to him.
Just like her other collegues, she only knew him by his family name, Kepler. He was the youngest, and had only been integrated to the facility for a few months now. He had a tall and thin figure, brown hair that always seemed messy and sharp eyes that made him look untrustworthy. Janson didn't seem to care about his suspicious eyes, giving him a look that hurried him to continue.
"... I may know how to proceed." Kepler began, as he walked towards a desk, opening one of its drawer to look through the files. It took him a few seconds to find the one he was looking for, before he turned back towards the group, opening the file to read its first paper. "Subject A5, Isaac Newton, suffers from severe depression, has already tried to kill himself."
When he tore his eyes away from the paper to look back at the group, he was met by confused stares. None of them understood what he was getting at, not even Janson. He wondered for a second if they were all dumb or if they just had never met the group of young people they were talking about. "He's the closest one to Thomas, they never leave each other's side." he explained with an exasperated tone. "We could make him break, take him away from Edison." the brunet added, talking to them as if they were completely stupid.
A gasp was heard among the group, to which the scientist responded with a cold glare. "We can't do that!" Graham cried out, suddenly looking very pale. Kepler quietly snapped back, retorting that they had no choice. Before the two scientists had time to start an argument, Janson interrupted them, asking Kepler how he would make him break, without even throwing a glance towards Graham. The brunet looked back at him, his eyes suddenly sparkling with delight. Janson kept himself from rolling his eyes at how pathetic the man was, filled with pride as soon as his boss gave him even just a bit of attention. Kepler opened his file, going through its papers before finally finding what he was looking for, getting a specific sheet out of it.
"All we need to do is to give him his memory back." he announced as he handed it to Janson, his words dripping with an excess of confidence.
Realization flashed through Graham's eyes, and the frown on her face deepened. "You can't let him do that." she scolded, her voice suddenly low, almost threatening. Janson briefly glanced at her, before his eyes went back to the sheet in his hands. She already knew the subject's past, she had been the one assignated to him when the group had first arrived into the facility.
Before Janson could even tell her to get her emotions under control or get out of the room, Kepler's voice rose once again, allowing his boss to keep on reading without another interruption from the blonde. "We have no other choice." he retorted sharply. "If Thomas rebels, everything we've built until now will fall apart."
"And what if his friend's death make him even angrier? What if it pushes him to rebel?"
"We have to take the risk. If we don't do anything, he'll rebel anyway." the brunet hissed, getting more and more annoyed by his collegue's behavior.
"But-" Graham was about to reply again, not done with this argument, when Janson suddenly put the sheet down onto the table with a slam, drawing their attention back to him. He had read enough. He didn't need more than these few lines about Isaac Newton's past to know that Kepler's idea could definitely guaranty them the end of Thomas Edison as a threat to WCKD.
"He'll go through the procedure as soon as possible. Edison seems suspicious, we can't waste time anymore." Janson announced, already heading towards the door as Kepler quickly wrote down his instructions. "It'll take a few days for the memories to fully come back, we'll keep him locked in and cut all contact with his friends. No visit, no talking, nothing but him and his memories."
The sun had never shined so brightly.
From inside the house, he could see that the sky was pitch black, and yet, he still felt it. He felt the sun shining brightly around him, he could feel its warmth. He could feel everything. The scent of the wood crackling into the fireplace, the cologne of his father and the soft hands of his mother ruffling his hair.
He could feel everything, and yet, as he looked around him, his vision wasn't clear enough for him to see his surroundings. Everything was blurry. He knew he was inside of a house, but he still couldn't see the walls, the ceiling, or even the silhouettes of the people he knew were present around him. He still heard the wind outside of the house, the quiet ruffle of leaves, everything that made him understand that this house was far from the city, but he still couldn't identify anything around him.
"Newt?" a quiet voice called him. "Newt, come here."
He turned around, and could suddenly discern a silhouette in the corner of the room. He took a few steps forward, and as he got closer, he started to notice another silhouette beside the one that had called him. Another silhouette, the sun, and a pale shade a blue.
There was a certain continuity in Newt's life that he hated. Even after every changes he had been through, from the glade to the facility, he would always wake up with a lump in his throat and watery eyes. The blond would lay down for a couple of minutes, gazing into space and trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. He knew he would never get over this feeling of regret, this feeling of losing his home every time he woke up.
But, as Newt felt someone stir behind him, he remembered the change that had been added to his life lately. The person he wished would become a continuity. The blond felt an arm drape over his waist, and tried to fight the smile that tugged at his lips. For almost a week now, Newt's mornings had felt less gloomy. Thomas' sole presence eased his sorrow, his warmth reassured him. At some point, Newt had almost wondered if his warmth was the one he dreamed about because of how familiar it felt, but it wasn't possible since he had had these dreams longer than he had knew Thomas. In the end, the blond had concluded that maybe Thomas felt like home, and nothing could have pleased him more than this realization.
"Wake up, shanks!" a voice suddenly shouted right beside his ear, startling Newt.
The blond felt a sudden movement next to him, followed by a thump and a groan. He turned his head and saw Thomas propped up on his elbow, his eyes barely opened as he grumbled curses under his breath, his right arm still slung over the blond's waist. Newt tried to stiffle his laugh, but still received a glare from the brunet. He simply shrugged, and jerked his chin toward Minho to denounce his friend. Thomas' eyes flickered to the culprit, glaring daggers at him. This one gave his friend an unimpressed look, but still justified himself. "Everyone's waiting for you two love birds to get up." he shrugged dismissively. This made Newt realize that the room had been strangely quiet since he had woken up, with no snoring or tossing around. He craned his neck in an attempt to look over the edge of the bed without getting out of Thomas' hold, and saw that Frypan and Winston were also already up, sitting on the edge of their bed with tired looks on their faces. None of them were talking and they were still half-sleeping.
He looked back at Minho, and saw his friend's eyes flicker to the arm Thomas still had slunger over Newt waist, a smirk stretching across his face. Newt felt a blush creeping across his cheeks, but tried to brush it off when Minho gave him an amused but questionning look, simply shrugging even though he knew his friend could probably see how flustered he was.
"C'mon, we're starving over here." Minho hurried them.
Newt rolled his eyes, and went to sit up on the edge of the bed when he felt something keeping him down, having forgotten about Thomas' arm. He turned his head to look at the brunet behind him, and saw that this one had just realized their position, quickly taking it away with an apology. Newt shrugged it off, answering that he didn't mind, and climbed down the bunk bed. Thomas soon followed him, and, after having briefly greeted Frypan and Winston, who still looked like they were only physically there, the group got out of their room and headed towards the showers. Minho would've gone sooner, if they didn't have to all get out of the room at the same time, making it easier for the guards than to go and verify in each room if there was someone left behind.
As they slowly made their way through the corridors, still tired and hoping that a shower would help dissipating the hazy fog that shrouded their minds. They were only a few corridors away from their destination when Newt started to notice the wary looks Thomas gave to almost every single scientist they crossed path with. "Still suspicious about this place?" he asked, stiffling a yawn. This drew Thomas' attention back to him, and the brunet nodded, giving him a brief glance.
"There's something weird about these people. I just can't figure out what."
Newt sighed, rolling his eyes. He knew Thomas was probably right, firstly because most of the time, he was, which the blond hated; and secondly because Newt had an odd feeling about all of this too. But, right now, he just didn't want to deal with it. They were barely out of the maze, didn't they deserve a little rest? He had already spent three years fighting against the creators, he didn't want it to do it again, or, at least, not yet. But, he also knew that he couldn't just ignore the problem. If Thomas was right and this facility actually hid some dark secrets, they had to discover it. Newt just wanted to delay the inevitable.
"Can we just," he paused, looking for his words for a second, "ignore it? Just for this morning?"
Thomas gave him a puzzled look, as if he couldn't believe Newt would even propose that. "You want me to just ignore it? They could be planning on killing us for all we know, Newt."
"Yeah, I know, I just..." Newt sighed, looking away. "I'm just asking for one morning. Please."
Thomas reproachful eyes suddenly softened, and turned into a comprehensive one. He looked away, and rubbed his neck in an embarrassed manner, recognizing that he may had overreacted for a second. After all, Newt was only asking for a few hours of peace after spending a few years in hell, who was he to decide he didn't deserve them? "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reacted like that." the brunet sighed. "I'll give you that morning. I won't talk about it at all, I swear. No suspicions, no theories." he promised, almost tempted to make a pinky promise just for the sake of it.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Newt looking at him, a grateful smile stretched across his face. Thomas turned his head to meet his glance, and smiled back, not able to fight it at the sight of his friend's gleeful eyes. They were suddenly in their own bubble, not even looking in front of them as they blindly followed their friends through the corridors, just smiling at each other like two idiots. That ridiculous bubble almost made them run into the woman who came to a halt right in front of Newt. The blond almost bumped into her but stopped right in time, giving her a strange look. He was about to ask her what she "bloody wanted" when she interrupted him.
"Isaac Newton?" the blond nodded sharply, still giving her a wary look. "I'm gonna need you to come with me."
At that moment, Newt noticed that two guards had just joined her, and instinctively took a step back. Thomas made a move to step in front of him, but Minho grabbed his arm, silently shaking his head. There was no need to make a scene yet, they didn't even know what she wanted. The woman took a small step forward, and offered Newt a reassuring smile. "It's just a quick procedure, we'll explain it to you on the way." she added, holding out her hand. "We won't do anything you don't agree to."
Newt glanced at Thomas, silently asking for his opinion, but the brunet wasn't looking at him, staring at the woman with dark, threatening eyes. The blond hesitated for a second, biting his lower lips in contemplation, but ended up taking a step forward, going to follow her. He had no other choice, but, weirdly, he also didn't feel like they were a threat at the moment. If they really planned on hurting him in any way, they wouldn't have come to get him in front of the group, especially in front of Thomas. The woman gave him an approving smile, and started walking with him in the opposite direction of the showers, a hand hovering behind his back to make sure he kept walking.
"Wait, where are you taking him?!" he heard Thomas shout as he got further away from the group.
He barely had time to sneak a glance behind his back before they disappeared around a corner, seeing Thomas being held back by a guard, and meeting Minho's worried eyes. At that moment, nothing could have make his anxiety worse than seeing Minho, the confident one, so distraught. He suddenly wished he wouldn't have agreed so quickly to follow what he presumed being one of the many scientists.
It took them less than a minute to reach lab, not giving Newt the time to think about it more. After they walked in, he barely had time to look around the lab before the woman walked into another room. He stopped for a second hesitantly, but was suddenly shoved in it by a guard. The door closed shut behind him, and he quickly turned around, attempting to open the now locked door. His frown deepened, as panic started to rise inside of him. The room was slightly darker than what he was used to, only illuminated by a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and it took him a second to notice that the woman who had brought him here was already preparing a syringue next to the single bed that was occupying the space. He took a step back, his back now against the door, putting as much space as he could between him and her. "What's going on?" he asked in a cold tone. "What are you doing?" he repeated when she didn't reply fast enough.
"We're just going to administrate you a treatment that'll give you your memory back." the woman answered calmly, as she flicked the syringue. "That's just the protocol, your friends will be the next."
"The protocol, uh?" Newt repeated doubtfully. "Why weren't we told about this before?"
"We don't give their memory back to everyone, we go through their files and observe their behavior first. We need to know their mental health to decide if they're ready to go through it."
Newt would have usually snapped back with a sarcastic answer, saying how they had looked at the suicidal limping kid and thought "oh, yeah, that one seems mentally healthy", but the possibility of getting his memory back was enough for him to stay quiet. He knew this seemed shady, his instinct was screaming at him to just stop standing there obediently, but he just couldn't bring himself to do anything. He was finally getting a chance of remembering his family, something he had dreamed about for years, how could he disagree? And, even if he had tried to refuse, he knew he wouldn't have been able to get out anyway. The door was locked, there was no escape, and accepting his faith didn't seem that bad, so why would he try anything?
"I'm gonna need you to lay down, now." the woman calmly asked him, drawing Newt's attention back to her.
The blond hesitated for another second, but ended up heading toward the bed, choosing to take his chance. At this point, his body was just moving on its own. He had waited years for this, he was incapable of refusing. So, he laid down on the bed, and took a deep breath, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling. He could feel his heartbeat raise and his limbs start to shake, but tried to ignore it. Even though the thought of getting his memory back would usually almost make him tear up of joy, he was terrified. Terrified of what he was gonna remember, terrified it would make him feel even more empty, knowing that he would never be able to go back to his old life, to reunite with the people he had lost. Newt was so scared that he instinctively started listing the fragments of memory he already had and he had been dreaming about for secluded house, the warmth, the sun, the pale shade of blue. He kept repeating incessantly the same words in his head, until they were the only things occupying his mind. The secluded house, the warmth, the sun, the pale shade of blue. At some point, they all started mixing together, but he kept repeating them until they didn't make sense anymore, until all he could see was a blurry mix of colors and the vague shape of a house.
He didn't look up when the woman came by his side and started strapping his limbs onto the bed, didn't react when she started looking for a vein in his forearm. He barely felt the fingers hitting a spot on his arm, the touch quickly replaced by the cold feeling of a metal against his skin, slowly piercing through it to inject a strangely warm liquid into his veins. Newt's heart started beating faster, and he suddenly felt the need to move, to run away, to do anything but stay on that bed. He tried moving his arms but the straps kept him down. He saw the woman who had just injected the content of the syringue in him get up hastily before getting out of the room. For some reason, she feared his reaction to the treatment, and that only made Newt's anxiety worse. His breathing got heavier, irregular, and he started fighting the straps keeping him down even more, trashing around. He couldn't focus anymore, all he could feel was the warmth of the product spreading through his body, and all he could think about was how he wanted it to stop, how he didn't want this anymore. He had agreed too quickly, he had been the impulsive, he had acted stupidly. He wasn't supposed to be the impulsive one, he was supposed to be calm and thoughtful, but he hadn't been able to resist the opportunity of remembering his family, of knowing what that pale shade of blue was.
There was suddenly a voice echoing in the room, coming from a speaker hung high on the wall. One of the scientists was telling him that he needed to calm down, and, even though Newt's first instinct was to tell them to go screw themselves and start trashing even more, he was scared of what was happening, and had no other choice but to obey. He stopped moving, and closed his eyes, pursing his lips as if he was bracing himself for an impact. He tried thinking about his fragments of memories again, tried to see the mix of colors, the shape of the house, but it was all gone. So he started mentally repeating the words again, ignoring the best he could the injection slowly spreading inside his veins. The house, the warmth, the sun, the blue. The words didn't stick, the images didn't come back. He was becoming more and more terrified by the seconds, he desesperately needed someone to help him, someone to be by his side. He needed Thomas.
The fog in his mind seemed to get a little clearer, and he suddenly could see a pair of wide doe eyes staring at him intently. Newt was suddenly back to the night before. He saw the lazy smile on his lips, he heard his slurred words, felt the touch of his fingers against his skin. His heartbeat started getting slower, and he could feel his body becoming less tense, not knowing if it was because of him or of the treatment. He was so caught up in his memories of Thomas that he barely felt his own eyelids slowly falling shut against his will, as he slowly drifted into sleep. There was now no going back.