Thwack.
Thomas awoke to him hitting the floor, the chair he was sitting in being pushed over. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and clasped a hand over his ears, as all he could hear were frantic shoutings all drowning together to create an unpleasant droning sound.
Wait.
Thomas scrambled up off the floor to a crowd of people huddled around Newt's bedside, each murmuring agitated commands to the others as horrible wheezing sounds came from the cot.
Thomas pushed through the crowd of doctors to his side, to find Newt half-conscious, bleeding from multiple torn stitches, stained bandages around his midriff, chest rising rapidly with each strained breath.
"What's going on?!"
"Stand back." A doctor pushed him out of the way, out of the circle, so he was unable to see Newt. He pushed his way back in, and again, was thrown out of the way.
"Is he okay?!"
Thomas kept trying to frantically barge his way in, until a doctor turned, a firm scowl on her face. "Listen kid, you need to leave. Let us work."
Her firm voice had an underlying tone of desperation, and Thomas hesitantly left, though he wore an expression of a dog that had just been kicked. He shut the door softly behind him, staring blankly at the medical shack walls, a whirlwind of emotions running through his brain as he could still faintly hear the doctor's voices through the wood: "Breathe kid. C'mon, breathe."
"Are you alright?" Thomas jumped at the voice behind him, putting a hand to his chest as he turned to see Brenda looking at him, concerned. She stepped closer to him, studying his face. "Have you eaten at all since you got back?"
"Something happened. Something's wrong, but they won't tell me what. He's breathing wrong, he's bleeding...Brenda, why won't they tell me what's wrong?" Thomas's voice rose in hysteria.
Brenda's eyes softened. "Thomas…" But there was something else in her eyes that scared Thomas to no end.
"No!" Thomas staggered back as if she hit him. "No, no, no, no. No, you're wrong."
"Thomas, he's suffering. You have to know when to let him go."
Thomas suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe, even though he was inhaling as fast as he could, he couldn't draw any air into his lungs.
"Breathe Thomas. Breathe." Brenda slowly coached him until he calmed down, but unshed tears still blurred his vision, and Brenda was swimming in front of him.
"Why?" he croaked out. "Why, why when we just saved him? He can't die. He just can't!"
"Thomas. Nobody wants him to die. But we're just delaying the inevitable the longer he stays suffering on that cot." Her voice dipped as she took his hand. "But you've got to eat, okay? Let's eat some lunch." She slowly led him away, but to Thomas it felt as if he was walking through a dream as he walked thickly through the crowd of people. He approached Minho, Gally and Frypan sitting on a log, silently chewing their lunch, when they looked up to see him. "Hey man." Minho greeted him carefully.
"Why does it look like you fell through a grain silo?" Gally asked bluntly, looking Thomas up and down.
"Yeah, you okay Thomas?" Frypan looked concerned.
"Something's wrong. He's worse."
Thomas expected a more surprised reaction, but to his astonishment, the three only solemnly nodded and turned back to their meals.
"What, that's it?"
"Thomas, there's nothing we can do to help him," Gally said, carefully choosing his words.
"We kind of figured when all the doctors came running," Frypan said quietly, fingering the ace bandage around his wrist.
"We're just waiting for news," Minho's voice was small, smaller than Thomas had ever heard him use.
As if on cue, the door to the hut swung open, and the team of doctors approached the Gladers. Jorge and Brenda stood up from where they were seated and joined them, and Sonya hurried from her place across the firepit. Thomas watched as Teresa slowly made her way over and sat on a log a little ways away from them, a miserable expression on her face.
The lead doctor folded her hands in front of her, a grim expression on her face. "I think it's time you went to say your goodbyes."
They filed off into the crowd, leaving the small group in silent grief, until Minho slowly rose and made his way stoically towards Newt's hut, only his eyes revealing the anguish he was feeling. Frypan followed him, and stood outside as Minho carefully shut the door, and the remaining group members rose and stood in the line behind Frypan, leaving Thomas sitting alone on the log. Teresa patted his shoulder as she joined the line, looking slightly out of place but determined to say goodbye.
Minho emerged 10 minutes later, his eyes bright red, dried tear tracks staining his blotchy cheeks, looking as if his whole world was breaking. Thomas slowly stood, meeting Minho's gaze, and Minho hurried towards him and threw himself into a hug, one with so much force it nearly knocked the wind out of Thomas. Minho's shoulders shook as he cried, holding on to Thomas with such intensity, like if he let go then Thomas would leave as well. He didn't know how long they stood there hugging, but soon Frypan joined them, his lanky arms encircling them both, and pulling in Gally as well. When Brenda emerged from the hut she joined them, her smaller stature making it hard to hug all of them at once. Jorge towered over all of them when he joined, and even Teresa tentatively approached as well. But it was as if somebody had erased all past tensions, anger, betrayal, emotions, hurt, and sadness, and the group just found comfort in each other, hugging as if the world was ending.
In some ways it was.
"I should go say goodbye," Thomas whispered tearily, and everyone slowly released each other to let him through.
The door clattered behind him as he entered, sinking down to his knees beside Newt's bedside. He looked into Newt's peaceful face as he slept, and no words would come out. He could only bawl like a baby, burying his face into the mattress, hands scrunching around the blanket. Suddenly, he sensed a shift in movement beside him, and Thomas raised his head to see Newt's eyes open.