Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

Therapy Up

Thomas

The breeze is light, the white clouds in the sky look like wispy, dark grey ghosts. It's my first free day in what feels like decades but it must only be a few months. I'm spending it in my favorite way, with my favorite person, listening to my favorite playlist.

I'm in jeans, and a dark green tee shirt. On my feet are my trainers and my hair's a mess.

We're laying on the grass together, the music playing out of his phone, mixing with the wind and creating a feeling of bliss on my part. His long left arm is under my mid-back and both my hands as well as my head rest on his chest. The fingers on his right hand are intertwined with my left his thumb tracing small circles on the top of my hand. I close my eyes and breathe him in.

He smells like himself, the one scent that always makes me think of heaven and eases me into never ending relaxation. His dark blue V-neck tee shirt is soft against my face and his low waisted dark wash jeans hang on his hips. He is undeniably attractive, his light brown hair the perfect length for tangling your fingers in.

"So Tommy, you wanna do something?" His dark voice rolls over me and it takes me a minute to realize he said something.

"What?" I ask, his words having no meaning to my relaxed and dozing brain.

"Us. Move. Sometime soon?" I press my face harder against his chest and snuggle closer to him.

"I'm good here, Isey." The old nickname makes him chuckle lightly and press a kiss into my head.

"We shouldn't just lay here all day." He vaguely remarks as his left arm bends at the elbow and his muscular forearm folds around my waist.

"We're not just laying here. We are cuddling." I say in a tone of mock offense.

"There is this thing called homework Tommy."

"Pssh. Homework is overrated." I whine. He laughs.

I shake his fingers out of mine, pry his arm off of me and sit up, stretching my arms above my head. I listen to the chorus of pops in my shoulders and back. I pull my left leg in and begin to stand up when his long arms wrap around my waist and yank me back down onto his chest. I smile and chuckle softly.

"What happened to doing something?" I question. He rests his chin on top of my head, my nose nuzzling against his collarbone.

"Changed my mind. I'm not ready to let you go yet."

"There is thing called homework Ise."

"I'm doing homework right now."

"What kind of homework are you doing?"

"Mark wrote "snuggle time with Tommy boy" on my planner. I have to do it."

"I don't think that's real homework."

"It is. This assignment is actually worth 39% of my grade."

"What class is telling you to snuggle me?" He laughs at that, a truly happy sound that I have fallen in love with.

"Sexology."

"That is not a real thing."

"It is. It's the hardest class I'm taking." I laugh at how serious he sounds.

As I sit here in the car, I think about the dream I had last night. It felt like more than just a dream though, most of my dreams have been about the maze. The weird thing is it's staying with me, I remember this dream even better than some moments of the trials now. The doctors say that the trials will fade from my memory with time, as I start to remember my old life. I told Maddie about the dream and she said it sounded like something that would've happened in my life. Maddie thinks that last night my dream, was really a memory. I look over to Newt/Isaac. I called him Isey in the dream. He called me Tommy boy. But who is Mark?

Newt/Isaac pushes the gear shift into park. I just stare at the brick building in front of us. Physical therapy. I have to learn how to function again. New-Isaac twists the key and pulls it out of the ignition. He looks over at me and his brown eyes smile at me. I must look like a shank; I can feel my wide eyes and slightly open mouth, wanting to protest but not knowing how. His light, clear laugh breaks the silence and he smiles at me.

"Come on Tommy, it's just physical therapy. You've been through it before."

"I don't remember that!" I exclaim at him, my nervousness bubbling over.

"Not my problem." With that, he unbuckles and pops his door open at the same time. He then swings his long legs out of the car before standing up and slamming the door behind him. I hear him pop the trunk and take a deep breath as I unclasp my seatbelt. I close my eyes and try to relax as I sit there, taking long breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.

My meditation is stopped by the door next to me being thrown open and the cold autumn air sending chills up my arm.

"It's cold today."

"It's October in Beaverton, 'course it's cold."

"I need a jacket."

"I'm literally wheeling you ten feet, you do not need a jacket."

"Yes I do. I'm not used to outside, I've been in a coma for a year." Newt pauses and groans, grabbing the bottom of his hoodie, pulling the light blue fabric over his head. I can't help but stare at the small portion of flat, toned stomach that flashes as his hoodie pulls his shirt up slightly. After he yanks the thing off his head he throws it at me and it lands in my lap.

"There princess. You happy now?" I look up and grin at him.

"Yes I'm happy." I lift the sweatshirt over my head and pull it on. It's still warm from his body heat and it's rather fuzzy. I pull up the collar a bit and breathe in, it smells like him. That mixed smell of coffee and whatever heavenly cologne he wears causes me to close my eyes.

"Okay princess, wheelchair time." His voice makes me blink out of my daze and look up at him.

"But I don't like the wheelchair." I say in my best Hammy impression. He rolls his eyes at me.

"I don't care. It's either the wheelchair or you're on my back." I blush at that and he smirks. Then before I can protest any more, he's sweeping his right arm under my knees and his left arm across the middle of his back.

"Hey. What the?" I ask in alarm. That's when I'm unceremoniously dumped into the squishy chair on wheels. Isaac puts his hands on the arms and leans down to my face.

"If you wanted someone who would baby you, you should've asked Charlie to bring you."

"But he can't drive!" I whine again.

"Oh no, poor princess Thomas! The nice kid can't drive you to physical therapy! You're obviously going to die!" He says, mocking me as he stands up straight and moves to stand behind me. He slams the door closed, locks his car, and starts pushing me towards the building.

"I don't wanna go!" I whine over and over again until he pushes me through the door.

"Oops, too late. We're here." I watch as he signs me in and then he pushes me over next to a chair where we sit and wait. We don't sit there very long, maybe five minutes until a man walks into the room, checks in with the receptionist and walks over to us. The man has gray hair, is rather thin and his face is long, slightly resembling a rat in some aspects.

Isaac

"Hello my name is Decklan Austin-Janson. I'll be working with Thomas during his rehabilitation." He give us a smile that looks more like a grimace of pain rather than something happy. I look over to Thomas and see that he has paled. I look back at the man, trying to figure out what connection he has to Thomas. The only thing I'm getting from Thomas about this guy is that Thomas is terrified of him.

"I'm sorry, have I met you before?" Thomas asks in a shaky voice.

"I worked with you when you broke your ankle a few years ago. Your mom requested me." The grimace doesn't fade and I have to look away from his face back to Thomas.

"Was he in your dream?" I question and Thomas just nods, very slowly. I lean back and curse inwardly, this guy must've been something really bad.

"Okay then Thomas, let's go back into my little room and get you started." Janson says and walks around behind Thomas and starts pushing him away to the door that must lead to his office. Tom turns and gives me one last look of desperation before the door closes behind him and Janson.

I sit there, staring at the door that they left through for maybe ten minutes before my phone starts ringing. I look down to see who's calling me, it's Charlie. I stand up, and walk out of the room and onto the sidewalk. I hit the answer button and bring the phone to my right ear.

"What?" I snap.

"Well isn't someone feisty today?" Charlie's slightly childish voice meets my harsh tone.

"What do you want Sanderson?"

"Just wanted to check in on my boys, Grey."

"Well "your" boy's are at Tommy's physical therapy."

"Oh. What doctor is he seeing?"

"Janson." I say as I bring my left hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose and I begin pacing.

"He's pretty good. Didn't Thomas see him when his leg got all screwed?"

"Yeah, but apparently Janson was in Tommy's dream and based on Tom's reaction, they weren't exactly best friends."

"Well doesn't Thomas remember that Janson is a homie?"

"He's got serious amnesia Char, he doesn't remember anything from the real world." My throat starts getting choked up and my words come out wrangled.

"Oh." Charlie is silent for a minute, then he speaks again. "How are you holding up, Ise?" I let out a strange scoff at that.

"How am I holding up? My best friend just woke up from a coma and he doesn't remember me and my boyfriend-." I have to stop at that, the tears having overflown out of my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.

"Your boyfriend what?" Charlie asks softly, detecting that this is a touchy subject.

"He dumped me." I say, barely above a whisper.