Disclaimer: James Dashner owns everything, I'm simply expanding on his universe

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: For those who have been begging for Thomas to get hurt, I promise you that will happen next chapter. Here's this one, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 25

When Thomas heard the gunfire he knew Minho, Sonya, and Harriet had returned. The WICKED guards working for Dr. West had set up an ambush and it was going off now. Although part of him wanted to go and make sure his friends were all right he knew it would only worry him more. If they were going to go back and get Brenda he would need to be relaxed and calm.

The ambush only lasted a few minutes. Not ten minutes after the guns had started going off, the three Gladers wearily walked into the first aid room. They had a few minor scratches which they quickly treated before washing up.

"The Right Arm might get suspicious if the guards don't check in. We need to go now." Harriet dried her hands off on a towel.

"I'll go tell Jorge," Sonya volunteered. She left, and Harriet followed close behind.

"Minho?" Thomas asked. Minho looked over at him. He seemed to be fighting to keep a strong front.

"I can't believe about Newt," Minho said. "I should've seen it. I remember when Alby dragged him back into the Maze…when the shank woke up he said had tried climbing the walls for a better view and had slipped. We all believed him because—well—it was Newt! He was brave and loyal and a hard worker. He never had acted depressed, not once. I don't understand." The boy shook his head, as if he was trying to shake the memories out of his head. "Doesn't matter now. It's too late. Let's go save Brenda."

Minho started walking away. Thomas reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Hey, Minho. It's okay. He's okay now. We'll all together again. Everything will work out okay. And it's alright if you cry."

Minho turned sharply. "If I cry then the others will know everything is falling apart. We have to keep it together for the others. There is no time for pity and for tears in a war. There's only time for survival. That's why my tattoo says I'm the leader. It's because I sacrifice myself and my feelings for the good of the group." He walked out and Thomas was left once again.

Remembering Brenda he finally left, though now he had another problem that he had to fix. He'd fixed Newt, Teresa, and his feelings on Chuck; now he had to help Minho. And Minho would be the hardest.

A few WICKED guards had taken the uniforms from the dead Right Arm guys and put them on. They loaded up weapons and everyone climbed in the Berg. Dr. West saw them out.

"Come straight back here," she said. "I've requested additional aid and I think a few dozen new soldiers will be here by the time you return. This facility is a safe place for all of you, no matter what happens. Please remember that."

"Thank you so much," Thomas replied. He hoped they didn't need the extra help, but feared for the worst. "We'll make sure we come back, even if it's only to retrieve Teresa. We don't want to bring Janson down on you."

Dr. West shook her head. "This is the beginning of a war, and we're the same side as you. Janson will still punish us even if you're not here. Please stay safe, Thomas. That is the first priority."

They shook hands quickly before the Gladers finally left. Thomas promised himself that he'd make sure Dr. West made it out alive. Her and as many of her workers as possible. This war was starting partly because of him, and now his main goal was to minimize the casualties.

Once on the Berg, Thomas peeked into the cockpit where Jorge and one of the other guards were sitting. "We're all ready."

Jorge nodded. "And once we're there we're not leaving without Brenda."

Thomas nodded in agreement. "No one gets left behind."

He ducked out and crashed on one of the sofas. Newt and Minho were at opposite ends of the room, he noticed, and neither was talking. Everyone else was in quiet conversation.

Thomas stood up and left, the quiet eating him away. He wandered down to the cargo hold and found Harriet and Sonya rummaging through some boxes and writing things down. They heard him enter and looked up.

"Hey, Thomas. We're just checking out what we have. Here's the list." At the cue from Harriet, Sonya flipped the paper over to show him. There were launchers and pistols, and some things called shock sticks.

"What are shock sticks?" he asked, walking over and sitting down next to Sonya. She grimaced.

"We didn't know, so we tried it out on me." She lifted her forearm to show a large burn. "They're made out of the same stuff as the launcher grenades are. Instead of totally decapitating you with pain, though, they just hurt really bad."

"You whack people with them," Harriet simplified, lifting one out of the box. It was a straight stick that came alive with crackling energy when the girl hit a switch on the handle.

"Thanks for the clarification," Thomas replied sarcastically.

"So you aren't as brooding as they make you out to be," Sonya observed.

"Who's they? And what do they say about me?" Thomas asked. He didn't think the Gladers gossiped, and even if they did, he was sure was a more interesting topic than himself.

"Just the other Gladers. Well, not your really close friends, but all the others," Harriet answered.

"They say you're really serious and don't know how to smile," Sonya added. "And that you carry everyone else's burdens for them."

"Do they now?" he murmured. "Well, sorry to disappoint."

"Hey, it's okay, we understand," Harriet reassured him. "I was the leader back in our Glade and I know how tough it is. Everyone expects you to be perfect, to know everything, and to always have a plan."

"Most of the time you have to fake knowing," Sonya put in. She moved her blonde hair into a ponytail as she spoke. "That's why you have a few close friends that know your secrets. They know that you don't always have a plan, and then they step up and help you when you're lost."

"What if you can't trust your friends with your secrets?" Thomas asked.

"You die," Harriet simply said. "You would have died already."

"And what if your friends lose you? Or you lose them?"

"Then you have to trust someone else," Sonya replied. "Now let's get back to the inventory. We were actually doing work before you came and interrupted us." She playfully shoved Thomas, and he stood up and started to help the girls go through the supplies.

A thought occurred to him that maybe he should trust the girls more. They gave him good advice and Harriet had been able to improvise during a bad situation. He hadn't really valued them much before, but he wished he had. They would have been so much more successful if he'd had other strong leaders.

"I want you guys to help me lead," he said as he picked up another launcher. "The more strong people we have, the better chances of making it out alive."

Harriet and Sonya exchanged a look. "Okay. But you're still the head of this operation."

"Deal," he said, and he meant it. He already felt like his burden was lightened.