Thomas wasn't really sure what he was expecting when he arrived in Paradise, but the sight that met his eyes was a silent, gleaming city.
It was littered with buildings- the largest of which possessing giant silver letters spelling WICKED across its' top floor, he noted with irritation. Couldn't they just get away from everything having to do with that place?
There were some people, about five or six families milling about, and a few homes that Thomas assumed they inhabited.
There was a separate residential area with more than enough houses for all of the Gladers, Group B girls and immunes.
"Go pick one out," Minho muttered from Thomas' right. He looked every bit as battered and exhausted as Thomas felt, but his eyes were ever alert, surveying the area for threats. "I wanna get some shuckin' sleep, so go pick a house."
"Why don't you choose one first, shank?" Thomas snarked, raising an eyebrow. "Then I'll get the one next to ya or somethin."
"I said pick a house, Thomas."
/
"There are like fifteen other houses, Minho." Thomas found himself saying tiredly a few weeks later, a bite of bitterness in his words.
He can barely stand the sight of Minho, if he's being honest.
He despises how Minho's so nice. He hates how Minho jokes with him in the daylight and holds him down during nightmares. He hates how Minho's been so understanding of everything.
He hates how Minho wouldn't be that way if he knew about Newt.
So he tells him to leave.
"Get your own shuck house."
"I'll take the shuckin couch if I have ta." Minho had responded resolutely. "Please,Tommy, please don't make me leave."
Thomas had frozen and his fists had clenched. A shot of ice sped through his veins, and he cracked his knuckles almost threateningly. "Don't worry about me."
"It's not just about your shuckin' comfort," Is Minho's immediate response. He's pleading now, and Thomas can hear the quiver in his voice. "I don't got what it takes to be alone right now,"
"I need to be alone." It sounds like a lie to his own ears, but there is nothing else Thomas can say.
They haven't spoken since.
/
Both running water and electricity are also present, and it takes Thomas some time to get used to having such luxuries. While he does remember how Wi-Fi and laptops work, it doesn't necessarily mean it is easy for him to adjust to having them at his disposal.
He has a cellphone, and two weeks after everyone figures out to operate them, there are no names in his phonebook.
/
He has not been outside his house aside from the walks he takes in the dead of the night.
Sometimes he sees Minho, but Minho does not see him.
Minho is always punching trees and kicking walls at these times, cursing at anything and everything, and every night it ends the same, with the boy crumbling to the ground and sobbing angrily.
Thomas wishes he could comfort Minho, but there is no comfort left in him to give- there is only pain, and regret- and then there is nothing.
/
"I want to talk to ya, slinthead. So are you gonna let me shucking in or what?"
It is the monthly commemoration of the survivors' arrival in Paradise, and Thomas is relieved when the voice coming from outside his door does not resemble Minho's in the slightest.
He gets up from bed with a groan, rolling his shoulders as he makes his way to the door. "I'm coming," he calls ahead, his voice raspy with sleep and lack of use.
"Well hurry up, slinthead-"
The speaker is cut off as Thomas pulls the door open and comes face to face with a disgruntled Gally.
Thomas stands there for a moment, blankly staring at the other. He is not surprised, nor is the anger he associates with the other flooding his bones- there is nothing.
And for that he is thankful.
"Well, shuckface?" Gally asks harshly, but there is no venom in his voice. "Are ya' gonna let me in?"
Thomas considers it, and decides to step out of the doorway to let Gally in, the older boy closing the door behind him.
/
"Aris said I should talk to ya." Gally says once they are seated on the floor of Thomas' room. He gives Thomas a dry look that he cannot comprehend. "And he says ya should talk ta Minho- and I agree-"
"Aris should slim it and mind his own business," Thomas retorts dully. "Tell him and Minho ta go shuck themselves-"
"Been there, done that," Gally quips dryly with an eyebrow raise.
"Then tell them to go shuck each other," Thomas retorts, a sliver of annoyance making its way into his blank tone, because seriously, can't Minho just shucking quit it and it shouldn't be surprising that it is Gally that manages to get a rise out of him after months and months of nothing. "In fact, why don't you go join them?"
The next emotion that hits Thomas is surprise when Gally snickers wistfully. "I see why Newt liked ya, shuck."
/
"Minho told me to tell ya that he'd prefer not to shuck Aris, but if that's what it takes to get ya out of this damn house then he'd do it." Gally says resolutely the next time Thomas finds him on his doorstep, and isn't it ironically appropriate that Gally is the one who manages to coax a laugh from him after so long?
"It's been months, shank! Get your klunk together! Do ya think you're the only one who's going through something? Huh?" Then Gally's in his face and shoving him against the wall. "You're supposed to be a leader, shank."
And Newt's supposed to be alive, but that he isn't, is he?
The horrified expression on Gally's face tells Thomas that he had said that out loud.
/
Several months have passed since Thomas and the others arrived in the place WICKED called Paradise, and he has come to conclude that it is anything but.
