LOCATION: HOLDING FACILITY
PURPOSE: TEMPORARY SETTLEMENT FOR IMMUNES POST-MAZE STAGE
WARNING: SUBJECTS THOMAS, MINHO, NEWT, THERESA, ARIS, FRY, WINSTON HAVE ATTEMPTED A FAILED ESCAPE
THEY KNOW WE ARE WCKD
X
"What is it?" Janson asked, pushing his way into the surveillance room.
Immediately, he noticed all of the guards huddled around a single set of computer screens.
"Is it Thomas?" he asked, bitterly.
"Subjects Thomas and Newt, sir."
"Move," he ordered, as guards shifted for him to see the screens.
Scanning the monitors, he quickly found Thomas and Newt in the barracks they'd provided them. They stood near one of the bunks.
Nothing unusual. They'd secluded the group away from the others, safe, until further orders from Paige.
Irritated, he looked toward the guard in charge. "What am I looking at?"
The man opened and closed his mouth, twice, without speaking.
"Speak."
"There's been a development," the man answered, stumbling slightly over his words. "One we thought important for you to know."
"One we thought you'd like to know," another said.
"Which is?" His words sharp, unkind.
Their eyes were back on the screen.
He looked again, pausing at what he saw. His mouth fell slack, as he watched.
He moved closer, making certain he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
He was.
Thomas and Newt were kissing.
X
"This is bloody insane," Newt said, back against the bunk. He was nervous.
"Don't look at the cameras," Thomas instructed.
"You think they'll believe this?" Newt asked.
Thomas grinned. "I bet they've already radioed for Janson."
As if in response, the distinct sound of a camera focusing in and out sounded near the entrance of the room.
Thomas's eyebrows flicked, confident. "Got 'em."
Newt shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Ready to do this?"
Staring, determined, as Thomas always did, he nodded.
Thomas was the one to lean in first, Newt merely responding.
At first, the kiss was simple. Thomas' lips against his own, firm and steady. Then his hands moved up to the sides of his face, and down his back.
Initially, the moment was too strange, too intense, he nearly pulled away – because this was ridiculous. This was mental. Just another one of Thomas' half-baked ideas.
Then Thomas turned his head, and deepened the kiss. Their mouths open, Thomas' hands in his hair…
Despite the intensity, he refrained from breaking the character… Thomas' directive clear in his mind: 'Make it look believable.'
Strong hands gripped onto his hips, and he spoke. The word out before he could stop it.
"Tommy—" It was said as… an impulse? An inquiry? A protest?
Thomas shoved him down onto the bottom bunk, in one certain movement.
A second later, Thomas crawled in on top of him. He allowed it.
Nestling into the nook of his neck, Thomas stopped. "You okay?" he asked, his tone honest, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Yeah," he answered. "I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
He considered the question, this time. "I'm okay."
And Thomas kissed him again, rhythmic and certain.
They did this for longer than he expected them to.
Both made slight sounds when Thomas broke contact.
Rushed, Thomas made a show of shoving the thin comforter under the crevice of the top bunk to create a curtain around their bunk, to give the illusion of wanted privacy.
In the seclusion, away from the cameras, WCKD, and Janson, he settled his breathing. "We did it."
Thomas glanced over him, silent at first. "Yeah." He moved to sit against the wall, knees up.
He sat up, too. "Are you okay, Tommy?"
"Yeah..." Thomas said, assuredly, but there was something in his tone Newt didn't quite believe. "Good job."
X
Janson watched the static screen, the makeshift curtain unmoving.
Thomas and Newt.
He was surprised.
He always thought Theresa had the only hold on Thomas, yet, then again, he'd learned long ago never to underestimate Thomas. If anything, Newt was now just another weak spot for him to manipulate.
"Commands, sir?"
"Commands?" he repeated. "I have none. Leave them."
Thomas could do whatever he wanted, to whoever he wanted, in his bunk.
In his bunk, he was containable.
If anything, he should thank Newt.
For distracting him.
He turned to exit.
"There are no commands, sir?" A guard asked, again, to clarify.
"Oh, no," he said, at the precipice of the doorway, smirk on his lips. "There are never no commands."
The men and women straightened, in attention.
"Secure Newt," he ordered, glancing one last time at the screen. "As soon as he's… unoccupied."
Just as he used Theresa against Thomas, he'd do the same with Newt.
Except, this would be much more fun.
Newt was much less valuable.
X
Food trays were delivered to their bunk.
They no longer went to the mess hall with the others.
They ate together.
"You'll have to be a lot more careful, now that you're a target," Thomas said.
Newt sat on the ground, with Aris and Winston. "I know."
"Batty idea, Thomas," Minho said. "But we're ready."
"All of us," Fry echoed.
His face was the first to go numb.
But, even then, it took him a while to understand what was happening.
His throat felt weird, he couldn't swallow, his hands felt clumsy.
He heard the sound of his tray knocking over, finding himself on his back.
"Newt! Newt!" Thomas was the first at his side. The others falling quickly, to form a circle around him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Poison, Thomas.
The door to the barrack opened.
"Trouble in paradise?" Janson asked, as introduction.
"Janson!" Thomas demanded. "What have you done to him?"
"Oh, nothing," Janson answered. "Just experimenting with different ingredients."
Thomas charged, at Janson, but there were too many guards.
He felt his body begin to convulse, as all of the activity around him blurred.
There was yelling. So much yelling.
And then nothing.