Twelve : Memory

Tommy POV

I was dragged from sleep by Newt. He had bolted upright suddenly, stifling choked sobs with fast, harsh breaths. He leaned forward and his hands came up to hold his temples, eyes squeezed shut. I sat up next to him and reached out a hand. It had just brushed his shoulder when he flinched and jumped away from me, his hand grabbing my wrist. His scared eyes met mine and he swallowed hard, still panting. He let go of me and looked back down at the floor. His hands still held his head.

"Newt, are you okay?" I whispered, not wanting to wake Minho right next to us. It was still dark, probably the middle of the night or early morning. Newt nodded silently, but still stared at the floor. "Newt…"

"Sorry, Tommy. Just a dream…" He wiped his cheek with a ragged sleeve, slowly dropped his hands into his lap, and looked up at me for a brief moment. Tears still filled his eyes.

"A dream?"

"Yeah, just a dream." He repeated but his trembling voice deceived him. I nodded slowly and let my eyes wander the floor of the tent. The darkness was easing up slightly, so it was early morning. Newt's breaths had calmed down some but still came in shaky rushes. He didn't say anything else, just looked down at his hands, which fidgeted anxiously. I adjusted my position and his eyes darted over to me, his hand flying out to rest on my knee. "Please, don't go."

"I wasn't going anywhere." I said softly. Newt nodded and moved his hand. "I'm just getting more comfortable." He nodded again and swallowed, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh. I crossed my legs and leaned my back against the wall of the tent, the bridge supporting it.

We didn't need to speak. Just knowing that I was there, physically and emotionally, seemed to help Newt's nerves. As the minutes went by, the calmer he seemed to grow. His ragged breaths evened out to occasional sniffs and his shaking hands eventually steadied. Still not looking me in the eye, he watched the corner of the tent, occasionally glancing over at my knee.

The tent had lightened some more in the passing time. I estimated it was close to 6 am now. I could make out the dark shadows under Newt's eyes. Lines creased his forehead, the corners of his eyes, and his mouth. Minho was still asleep on Newt's other side. He lay on his side facing away from us.

"It was Lizzy…" Newt whispered, so faintly I barely heard him. I blinked in surprise. His little sister. Newt sniffed and looked towards my knee again. "She was crying…and hugging me… But I don't know why…"

His voice was soft, whispery, and shaky with pain and held back emotion. A new tear ran down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. His hands were trembling again.

"It wasn't a dream." His breath hitched in his chest. "It happened, it was real. But I can't bloody remember…"

"It's okay." I said softly. "I do." Newt's glistening, dark eyes finally met mine, shock only partially coming through the grief.

"You do?" His choked voice was incredulous. I nodded carefully. Would he be angry at me for not telling him sooner? Would he hate me because of my relationship with WICKED?

"I've had a couple of dreams, memories, the past few days. You and Lizzy were one of them." Newt looked away and down at his hands again. "I think it's the same one you just had." Newt didn't say anything, so I began to recount the memory. Of sneaking through hallways, getting into Group B's barracks. Of how Miyoko stopped us and then later brought Lizzy. How she and him had embraced and cried.

Newt remained silent as he listened. Occasionally a flicker of recognition would cross his face or he'd give a slight nod. But by the time I had finished, he was crying again. Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks and fell onto his blanket. He rubbed his eyes with a sleeve, not even trying to hide his pain anymore.

"I'm sorry, Newt…really, I am."

"Don't be," Newt sniffed, sucked in a steadying breath and met my eyes. His were dark, bloodshot, but clear. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Tommy. I'm glad you told me." The tight bubble of dread in my chest burst. Newt broke eye contact and gave a small, nervous smile. "I could only ever remember bits and pieces of everything…but those details match. You really were there…"

"I was there." I nodded. My mind wandered back to the first memory, however. I had been there more than once.

"And the second?" Newt glanced up at me. I paused, just looking at him. At his trusting face, the recovered memory of his little sister so fresh… I looked away. "Tommy?"

"It was before I came to the glade." I said to my lap. Newt hadn't broken his gaze, waiting for me to continue. "When you and the others hadn't been there very long. And you…" I took a deep breath. "You went out into the maze. You found the tallest wall and climbed up it…" I chanced a glance up at Newt. He wasn't crying anymore. He just looked tired. Beaten and exhausted. He nodded and looked away from me. I didn't need to keep going, he knew what I was talking about. The dark shadow that passed his face showed he remembered every detail of that day.

"It wasn't your fault, Tommy." He surprised me by saying. His voice was gentle, reassuring. "You were just a kid, they forced you into doing those things. You can't help what they made you do." I swallowed hard, emotion threatening to overcome me now. I nodded slowly. Newt understood my dread to tell the story, my fear of them rejecting me, and my intense regret. I didn't need to voice them, and it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

We sat in silence for a long time. I knew just as many emotions were running through Newt's mind as my own. Anger, confusion, loss, and eventually an intense sadness. Reality pressed in tightly from all sides. The fact that we were in the wilderness in the dead of winter, running towards an end goal that would ultimately turn back the clock. Phase 1 would restart. Our memories would likely be wiped. I may even get the chance to befriend Newt all over again.

I finally looked up at him. The weight of exhaustion was back on him. Shadowed eyes, pale skin, sharp edge to his jaw. He blinked, a pained expression coming over him, and glanced over at Minho's sleeping form.

"You think we could try and catch some fish?" He looked back up at me, his eyes almost pleading. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. At the absurdity of our predicament, the lost memories, and the state of the world. Newt smiled, the pain in his eyes vanishing.

"Yeah, let's try it. I'm starving."