A/N

Soo~, this is my first time doing a fanfiction without my own oc as the main character. I think it will be mostly in Thomas POV but I will be sure to tell ya'll if it gets changed.

This a bromance fiction so no shipping pairs just plain cute friendship.

Disclaimer: I do not own TMR or any of the har actors from the trilogy, all those beautiful thing belongs to James Dashner. What I do own is my own oc characters.

"Rise and shine ladies!" Came the booming voice of their leader, Thomas responded with a groan and turned his back to the leader. Snuggling himself deeper into the madrass, no way in hell that he would get up after just three hours of sleep. The day before had been hectic enough with their camp getting attacked four times in a row, the cranks seemed to be getting more and more persistent. Thomas had been forced to stay up the whole night to defend the camp, he would have complained as much if it wasn't for the fact that he had also stayed up all night for the past two nights before.

"What's he yellin' bout' this early?" Minho's voice was thick with sleepiness, his bed creaking as the nineteen year old moved to let his feet down to the floor. Thomas guessed his friend was getting dressed for another day full of shooting cranks, not something Thomas felt any need to participate in.

"This is klunk, not even when we aren't under attack will Alby let us sleep." Minho complained with no restrain, the guy he never been afraid to state his thoughts even if they were about their leader.

"Quit complaining you shank, be glad you even got a bloody bed to sleep in." Newt heavily accented voice came from the doorway of Thomas and Minhos shared hut, by the sound of his friend voice, Thomas pulled the blanked over his head.

"Whatever. You gonna get up soon, shank?" Thomas let out a strangled 'oof' as a pillow hit him hard on the head, he hadn't expected that one. Not really faced by the pillow and saw it more as an advantage then disadvantages, Thomas lazily turned around and used the pillow to hug against his chest.

"He hadn't slept for more then three hours the last three days, Alby wouldn't notice so let the shank sleep." Newt said before leaving the room, probably to find Alby.

"Don't yo go doing weird stuff with my pillow." Minho teased as he clapped Thomas shoulder and left the room, leaving the room in a comfortable silence. Thomas sighed in appreciation and snuggled his face into the pillow he was hugging, it smelled like forest, hair wax, sand and Minho. Weird combination but Thomas quite liked it, the familiar scent made him feel safe and warm. The scent of family.

After he had fallen asleep it didn't feel like more then a minute before the terrible scream of the so called 'Crank-Alarm', it's high pitched sound echoed through the glade and was impossible to miss.

"Shit!" The still sleepy seventeen years old Thomas hissed as his head started to throb, he hadn't slept nearly enough to be able to handle the alarm, he would surely need lots of aspirin. So he got up off the bed and hurriedly pulled on a pair of pants, left on his white tanktop and grabbed his weapon an old AK-47. Then bolted out the door, he wasn't the least surprised to see the whole glade in chaos as gladers where running around the place to get in position. He quickly sear he'd through the crowd but couldn't find either of his best friends, or yes he could as he finally spotted Minho in one of the watchtowers and Newt by the door. Not seeing any signs of being needed by his friends, Thomas hurried to one of the buildings closest to the stone walls they had built around their camp. The walls were just high enough to reach over the houses roofs but high enough so no person could climb over, well it would probably be possible if the person had a ladder. Without much difficulty, Thomas climbed up to the house roof and peered down on the opposite side of the wall, the outside were filled with long gone grievers with guns and all kinds of crappy weapons.

"Thomas!" Looking down behind him Thomas saw Winston standing on the ground in front of the house, grinning Thomas extended his hand to help the glader. With both on the roof, the rested their weapons against the top of the wall and started firing. Hitting one target after the other, Thomas started to regret he hadn't brought any earplugs because his gun made lots of noise.

"You doing alright?" Winston asked after about twenty minutes of constant shooting, Thomas head wasn't just throbbing now but felt like someone was using a hammer to hit him in the head. He clenched his teeth and blinked away the black spots that had started to form in his vision, the hotness of the sun didn't really help much either.

"No but we're done in five minutes, I will survive til then." Thomas said with a small shrug and shake of his head to rid the black spots which didn't seem to want to go away, his aim was getting worse as he couldn't really see his targets. In the corner of his eye he could see Winston looking at him with concerned eyes, Thomas smirked reassuringly.

"Let's just get this over with yea?" To that Winston nodded turned his attention back to the cranks, shooting them with almost perfect accuracy. So the two fired bullet after bullet and in no time had their targets gone from thirty to just under ten, with just two left were Thomas forced to put down his gun as his legs gave in and he slumped to his knees. His vision all blurry from the headache and he felt like throwing up, Winston quickly took care of the last targets and kneeled down in front of Thomas.

"You did good friend." He smiled and squeezed Thomas shoulder in a gentle grip, Thomas snorted but not in a mean way but in relief.

The two were later joined by Minho who with the help of Winston helped Thomas bavk down to ground level.

"Thanks guys." Thomas said slurred as they let him slump down on the kitchens couch.