Hi guys! I haven't update in over a month...I'm really sorry, and I promise there'll be more frequent updates from now on! Thanks for all the kind reviews, follows and favorites! I really appreciate it all!

Tivae: I'm not sure if you're reading this, but thanks for the advice, and I really hadn't considered the fact that there's only a 10 percent chance of surviving a shot to the head, and even then he would be in a unfit state to go find Thomas...I promise there's some sort of an explanation in this chapter!

Audlong123: Hey Audrey! LOL

0-0: Thanks and sorry for the long wait!

The Black Hearted Demon: Thanks for pointing out the fact that I directly quoted in the last chapter! I hope you didn't mind the wait!

Thanks to everyone else who clicked the follow or favorite button!

~Sara

Thomas' POV

"I tried to kill myself in the Maze. Climbed halfway up one of those bloody walks and jumped right off. Alby found me and dragged me back to the Glade right before the door closed. I hated that place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all...your...fault!"

Thomas couldn't forget anything that had happened the day he had killed Newt. and Teresa had died as well. But nothing was worse than the fact that he had killed his best friend. His best friend. Why? He could've done so many other things. He could've tied him up, he could've shot him somewhere other then the head...everything was cold and dark. Thomas was alone. Scared. Heartbroken. Grieving.

"Thomas?" Thomas heard a voice. He looked up and saw Newt.

"No...you're dead." He said, shaking his head.

"Thomas? Thomas, are you okay dude?" Newt was shaking his shoulders. Thomas realized had completely lost all sense of reality.

"Newt? Newt?" Thomas called through the dark mist in which Newt was standing in. He didn't understand.

"No, Thomas. It's Minho...can't you see me? Man, you're going insane. It's Minho, not Newt." Newt said. Now Thomas was utterly confused. Why was Newt standing in black mist, all while saying he was Minho?

Thomas looked away and curled up into a ball as he clutched his head. "Make it go away. Just make it go away!" He shouted, tears falling down his face. "Please, make him go away. Stop torturing me like this! Make it all go away. Please, please!"

"Thomas, you gotta listen to me. Whatever you're seeing, whatever you're hearing, there's nothing actually here. Just me and you, in the woods. Thomas, you have to remember who you are. We need you to be okay. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for all the other immune who are counting on you." Newt said, his voice slowly changing into Minho's. "We needs you. We all need you." Newt's face changed into Minho's as reality raced back into Thomas's mind.

"Minho? Oh my god, Minho." Thomas stared crying. "I saw Newt...he was talking, saying things to me."

"Thomas, that wasn't real." Minho told Thomas. "Thomas...Newt's dead. He's gone. Forever."

"Because of me!" Thomas screamed as sunk his nails into his skin. "I shot a bullet into his skull, Minho. I could've saved him, if I hadn't pulled the trigger!"

"Thomas, LISTEN TO ME!" Minho grabbed his arm. "There was nothing you could do, he's dead, and he's never coming back! Now you need to pull yourself back together before you fall apart completely. It's harder to put yourself back together after you've completely lost it then to just suck it up. He's gone and nothing's going to change it, alright?"

Thomas nodded, but on the inside, he was dying. You know what people say. Once a heart is broken, it'll never come back together in the same way.

Newt's POV

(A\N So, Thomas POV is third person, but Newt is first.) While I gathered all my thoughts, I started to wonder...how the bloody hell did I survive a gun shot to the head? How was it completely healed? What happened to the flare? Was I immune now all of a sudden? I knew that the rate of surviving a shot to the head was 90 percent...it was almost impossible. Had Tommy somehow... missed? (A/N It said in the book that he closed his eyes. Don't believe me? Look at the book.) He had closed his eyes, right? But I felt it. Right in the center of my head. But there was nothing there. No flare, no wound, no Tommy.

There was no way I could've survived that gunshot, and even if I did, I wouldn't be able to do anything. I shouldn't be able to speak or move...but I could. I knew everything that was going on. Had WICKED done something to me? But that was unlikely. Well, right now, everything was impossible. Which meant anything could be possible. Hell, I could've even come back from the dead! One thing was for sure. If I was alive, so was Tommy, which meant I could find him and everyone else.

Thomas's POV

Minho led the way to what seemed like a better constructed version of the glade.

Minho suddenly smiled and said, "Hey, greenie. Welcome to the Glade."

"I told you I'm not new anymore. It feels like ages since the glade days. No flare, no WICKED, less craziness..." Thomas sighed. He had to move on from all of it. Death. WICKED. The flare. It seemed like years had passed from when all he was worried about was getting out of the maze. But right now, he would give anything to be back in there, safe from everything in the actual world, with no memories except his name.

"Jeez, Thomas. I was just joking. Lighten up a little...no, I mean a lot." Minho said.

"Sorry...it just all struck me that so much happened in such little time. It's just a little hard for my mind to take."

Minho smiles sympathetically at Thomas. "Guess what, shank?"

"What?"

"You've been voted as leader."

"What?"

"YOU'VE BEEN VOTED AS LEADER!"

"That's not what I meant you shank!" Thomas cried, a slight smile popping up on his face.

"Hey! There's a smile!" Minho said and Thomas frowned, the smile fading. "So, I guess you'd better start leading."

"Fine." Thomas said, still frowning, but laughter started flowing through his lips, causing him to snort. Minho smiled.

"What? I there something wrong with me laughing?" Thomas asked.

"No...it's just that I've only seen you laugh a couple times."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"They were all with Newt." A pang of grief struck Thomas but he knew that he couldn't give into the grief. For everyone counting on him.

"Don't, Minho. Just don't." Thomas said.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your leadership crap." Minho said as he left Thomas alone again in the middle of camp.

Thomas sighed. He had to keep being positive, because if he let the negative side of him take over, that would be the end for him. Insanity would consume him, and there would be none of the original Thomas left inside him.

Newt's POV

It was getting close to nightfall and I still hadn't found any sign of where Tommy might have went after "killing" me. Right now there were two things that I needed to know. How the hell I had survived a shot to the head and the flare.. and where Thomas and all the other bloody people went. Okay, now I feel repetitive.

"Where would Tommy and everyone else go after killing me?" I thought deeply, but nothing came to mind. "What if they were still looking for the cure to the flare? But what if they found it? And what if everyone on earth was dead except for the immunes?" I said to myself. There was nobody around to be seen, and there wasn't a single voice anywhere. Everyone on Earth might as well be dead. I sighed deeply, looking for anything, anything.

That's when it hit me. "Oh my god! I am so stupid!" I said to myself. I hadn't even noticed the tire tracks right in front of me, leading on and on into the woods. I knew which direction to go, but first I needed rest.

Thomas's POV

Thomas drifted off to sleep, tired from the day. "Tommy?" A familiar voice called. He stirred awake and saw Newt. Again.

"Newt? You're alive?" He cried.

Newt shook his head. "No, Tommy. I'm dead. You killed me, remember? You pulled the trigger."

"Newt? Newt, please. I'm sorry!"

"Tommy, it was all your fault." Newt gestures toward his hands as a gun appeared in them, and his hands went up, ready to pull the trigger. He couldn't control his body.

"No. No..." Thomas cried as his fingers pulled the trigger over and over again, replaying Newt's death over and over as Thomas begged for his mind to stop.

"Please! Make it stop!"

"I trusted you, Tommy." Newt said as he then took the gun straight from Thomas's hands and held the gun to his head. "Do it, Tommy. You didn't hesitate before. Do it. Kill me."

"Stop it! Stop it, just stop it! Stop messing with my mind! You're dead, you're gone. So just stop it!" Thomas cried, curling back into a ball and pounding his fists on his head.

"But Tommy. You have to remember why you killed me in the first place. Why you pulled that trigger. Why you set me free and peaceful."

"Because you asked me to."

"No, Tommy. I won't stop until you realize why. Now sleep. I'll come see you again."

"What do you mean why I pulled the trigger? I care about you! I regret my decision!" Thomas screamed.

"Then why Tommy? Why did you do it?" Newt's voice thundered.

"Stop torturing me!" Thomas screamed as he jolted out of bed. "Stop, Stop, Stop..." Thomas murmured as he rocked himself to sleep, tears falling, but never drying