# Time

There was time for Thomas to remember Teresa, an abundance actually and for a period he believed people were avoiding him after the initial happiness of seeing him lucid and walking around. There were many hugs to be shared and a plenitude of laughter and although it all should've aided in calming his sadness, it mostly just reminded him of everyone who weren't sharing in his blessings.

So he put on a brave face and endured, hoping that he wouldn't feel this way forever, kicking himself whenever he would start feeling guilty and then scolding himself for not feeling guilty enough in a tiresome and continual cycle.

Sometimes Newt was there at his side to offer a comforting hand on his shoulder, a slight brushing of knees, a tap on his foot... anything to help bring him back from his memories. Once Thomas's eyes met his own warm brown orbs, he felt like he could breathe again. However, this was only sometimes, for Newt had been busying himself around the camp with any odd jobs he could find.

Thomas knew not to take it personal because everyone was giving him space, but he didn't know if it was helping either. Usually, the best part of his day were the small moments when either boy would be inevitably caught gazing longingly at the other across camp, or during their meals, or completely random moments like during Thomas having dish-washing duty.

Newt had taken his sweet time in finishing with his plate and Thomas would catch his eye while he sauntered over to leave his plate, "Good to see you finally pulling your own weight, Tommy."

Newt had newly received a much needed haircut, it was hard not to notice, (although he quiet adored his longer-fluffy hair, he didn't mind the shorter cut either), which Thomas motioned towards with soapy hands, "Maybe you would know the feeling if you weren't so busy being such a pretty boy."

"Aww, you think I'm pretty." Newt grinned, sending a flush through Thomas, who needed to concentrate back onto washing plates to avoid the butterflies which inevitably were sent a flight during such teasing conversations, "And not everyone can pull off the manly grizzly, stubble look, you know."

Thomas couldn't help his blush. Had that been a compliment? He swept his fingers on his stubble and longer hair self-consciously, "Ah-thanks?"

Newt winked at him and he could swear he could've been undressing him with his eyes, "Yeah, it suits you. See you around, Tommy." he called as Thomas stood there like an idiot and he walked out before he had time to respond (and most likely embarrass himself).

Before Thomas could straighten up his composure and breathe through his discomfiture to continue with his work, he heard several whistles and claps behind him, mortified over having completely spaced the fact that Newt and he weren't completely alone.

Brenda, Jorge, Minho, and Sonya were all still mingling in their seats. They all looked like they had just witnessed the most adorable thing in their lives, eyes-wide, perceptive smiles, and Sonya had her mouth covered as she stifled laughter.

"Okay, you all can do your own damn dishes now," Thomas declared, throwing his rag onto the sink and quickly moved to the door, attempting to hide his burning cheeks as his seemingly entertainment starved friends called after him.

"Oye Amigo, don't be like that!"

"Yeah, we're just fooling around!"

"You're so cute!"

"You two shanks better get it over with soon before either spontaneously combust from all the sexual tension!"

Thomas started at the last comment from Minho and made the mistake of turning around to see him friend wink at him to which he responded by flipping them all off as he left them to their own hysterics.

It was those little moments which made him long for his friend even more.

Later, Thomas smiled at himself and the memory because he had gotten through an entire "flirty" conversation with Newt without feeling like he was dishonoring Teresa's memory. Other than his friend's mocking… It had been a good day.

"Hey, I miss you," he had blurted out one night week later before heading over to his own makeshift bed after a long day of garden work, while Newt insisted on helping Vince and Sonya with something on the other side of camp.

Thomas's words had been an after-thought that somehow made it out of him, maybe because he was tired and really did miss his best friend, they hadn't been talking the same way they used to. He was starting to fear that the first night after he'd woken up had been too intimate too fast, maybe the "I love you's" were too bold or too real or too soon, but that could've been his mind playing tricks on him.

It should've gone without saying that they both cared for and valued the other unconditionally, putting words to their feelings shouldn't have changed anything. And they were still close, but that same closeness didn't seem to be enough anymore.

Newt's stride stilled as he turned to look back at Thomas, his mouth slightly agape, the still-burning fire pit flames illuminating the left-side of his now healthy and glowing skin, which distracted Thomas for a beat as he continued to overthink things, "I just mean... We should hang out tomorrow after lunch to catch up?" he asked, checking for Newt's reactions. There were so many things he wanted to reproach him for closing himself off...

"Tomorrow, huh," Newt considered, touching his chin in the same way he always did when he was pensive. Suddenly, he was nervous that the boy would say no or tell him he was busy with something else important. Mostly Thomas thought he busied himself because he wanted to avoid him. However, Newt's playful eyes reached his, he knew the boy was messing with him, "Sounds like a date then."

Thomas rolled his eyes and mumbled something about seeing Newt later and then swiftly entered the tent, hearing what he could only describe as a giggle from his friend outside.

He didn't get much sleep that night.

Finally, tomorrow...

..

Thomas recalled the day after the many happy reunions, when he had finally mustered the strength to carve Teresa's name onto stone. He had been watching Minho and Newt do the same with the names of their lost friends and loved ones, and Thomas wondered if they imagined their own names etched into stone, contemplating how close they had been to death. Thomas certainly was, but mostly he stalled himself with such images because he wanted to wait for the right time.

Or rather, he wanted it to feel like the right time to him.

Teresa wasn't exactly well-liked by the bunch given her history of betraying everyone. Given her history of torturing Minho... Thomas couldn't hate her for it. Not for a bit of it because he had once decided that his own friends were worth sacrificing in order to save the world. It had made sense to him for a time. But these kids in the safe haven...they didn't see him that way. They saw him the same way Newt and Minho saw him; as a hero. But Teresa...with her there was plenty of animosity to go around, but Vince had told them that the wall was to help everyone to let go. Thomas needed catharsis somehow. There was no body for him to bury... only memory.

Once he came upon the awareness that there would never be a right time, Thomas made his way towards the boulder as Newt and Minho were leaving and he caught the former's eye briefly as Newt nodded to him in silent understanding. Each clapped him on the shoulder as they walked past.

He was about to let it go when he called to Minho, before he could stop himself, Thomas powered on, "I know what Teresa did to you and that-"

"Thomas, if you need me to forgive her, then it goes without saying because I've come to peace with it," Minho gripped Thomas's shoulders, a quiet resilience in his stare, "Now it's your turn."

Thomas didn't know what to say and settled with a choked up, "Thank you, Minho."

With that, he had formerly said goodbye to the girl he loved, with the absolute understanding that the pain and the remorse's dark hold onto his soul would remain for years to come.

Laying on his cot more than many days, weeks and years later, running reels of footage, remembrances before his eyes, Thomas knew he'd been right.