Thomas stepped into the cafeteria not sure what to expect. The number of kids, boys and girls, chatting animatedly around the room was definitely not his first thought. A smile grew faintly on his lips. Maybe they were actually safe.
"Hey, Thomas!" Minho's familiar face appeared. He was smiling, greeting Thomas happily.
"What's going on?" The boy continued to stare at the teens seated at tables.
Minho's smile grew, "We weren't the only Maze. Come on."
They weaved through tables until reaching Newt, Winston, and Frypan. Thomas immediately noticed the absence of their two girls, but couldn't get the question out as the other two kids sitting with them got to what he assumed was the climax of their story.
"And there was this big, loud explosion, and these guys came out of nowhere. Starting shooting up the place." One explained.
The other nodded along, "It was intense. They pulled us out of the Maze and brought us here."
"What about the rest?" Thomas asked, "The other people left behind in the Maze, what happened to them?"
The boys shrugged.
"I don't know. I guess Wicked still has them."
"How long have you guys been here?" Minho scooped the remaining food from his plate, stuffing his face.
"Not long. Just a day or two," The one of the left replied, turning in his seat to point at a kid sitting by himself, "That kid over there has been here the longest. Almost a week."
"His Maze was nothing but girls." The other added.
"Really?"
"Some guys have all the luck." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Cleo and Teresa came to Thomas's mind and again he wanted to ask his friends, but again was interrupted. This time by Jansen, who had stepped into the room with a couple of guards.
"Good evening, gentleman. Ladies. If you hear your name called, please rise in an orderly fashion, join my colleagues behind me, where they will escort you to the eastern wing," His eyes found Thomas briefly, "Your new lives are about to begin."
He began reading off a list of names. Those called jumped up eagerly, saying goodbye to their friends and lining up against the far wall. The new arrivals watched on with confusion as the last few names were called.
"Now, now, don't get discouraged. If I could take more, I would. There's always tomorrow. Your time will come."
And then he was walking out, the line of lucky teens following behind him.
"Where are they going?"
"Far from here. Lucky bastards," the boys returned to looking at one another, "Some kind of farm. A safe place. They can only take in a couple of people at a time."
Something moved in the corner of Thomas's eye and he turned to see Teresa in the hallway outside. Leaping from his seat, he called out to her, getting her attention just as she disappeared from view. He was stopped by a guard, forced back with a shove.
"Where are they taking her?" He asked, struggling against the stronger man.
"They just have to run a few more tests. Don't worry, they'll be done with her soon."
The man was trying to be reassuring but Thomas was already worked up, "Is she okay?"
"She's fine." The man kept his voice calm.
"What about Cleo? The other girl that we were with. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Where is she?"
With another slight push, Thomas stopped fighting.
The man sighed, "She's resting. Both girls are fine. You'll see them soon."
"You must be careful, my little bean." Her mother stood before her, face hidden by a bright light. She could make out her hair, brown, curly like her own. Her hands were cupping her face. They were standing in a small room, no windows to give away their exact location. Cleo couldn't shake the claustrophobic feeling twisting and tightening her insides.
"It's too dangerous for you to be acting this way." Her mother's voice had changed in tone. She was scolding her now, the hands on her face making sure that the young girl was truly understanding her mother's words.
"I can't watch them go through this. Not anymore. They're my friends." She kept her voice strong, swallowing down the whimper that wanted to escape. She had watched to many of her friends leave, only to reappear days later, in the Maze, wiped of any memory besides their name. The name they were given.
"Promise me you won't do anything." Her mother sighed.
And then, her mother was gone. Wide, brown eyes, framed by thick lashes. She knew them. She had seen them before. Thomas stood in front of her. His mannerisms were filled with fear, his mouth parted in disbelief.
"They're coming for me. You have to stop them, Thomas," She begged him, stepping closer to him, "Promise me, you won't let anyone else die."
Voices down the hall cut into the conversation. Time had run out. This was it. Her chin quivered as she held back tears and she took another step forward. Wrapping a hand around the back of Thomas's neck she pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, hands resting on her hips before she was ripped away from him.
"Promise me, Thomas!" She yelled before her vision began to blur. The world around her spun until darkness clouded over and she was left to her own defenses.
For a moment she thought she was falling, then came the rising feeling, the alarm still blaring in her ears. And then everything stopped. The suspended feeling returned, but this time it wasn't pleasant. This time, she felt constricted. Her lungs were burning; she could feel her heartbeat slowing. It felt as if she were drowning.
She woke gasping for air, like she had done many times before. She was disoriented, finding the room she was in held nothing familiar. She looked around frantically, eyes landing on the machine beside her bed, beeping steadily. It was connected to a long tube that ran down the length of her arm to a small clip on her finger. Another needle was buried in her arm, pumping a clear liquid inside with a rhythmic motion. She ripped both from her arm, the machine beeping widely. Throwing the blankets away from her legs, she leapt of the bed, head reeling with the quick movement. As she steadied herself, someone appeared at her side, grabbing onto her shoulders.
"Cleo! Cleo! Please, there's no need to panic. You're safe."
She thrashed about in their grasp, panicking, "Let me go!"
"Cleo! It's Dr. Crawford," another person arrived, "You're fine. You're safe. You escaped the Maze with your friends. Thomas, correct?"
Cleo stopped at the sound of his name. Head whipping around, she meant the familiar face of Dr. Crawford.
"We gave you a couple pain killers and some sleep aid. I understand you are scared, but I need you to work with me, okay. Please take a seat."
"I want to see my friends."
"Please Cl- "
"I want to see my friends!" Her voice boomed through the room, echoing around them. Dr. Crawford jumped some, eyes shifting to the man still firming holding onto the girl. With a quick jerk, Cleo was able to catch the man off guard and free herself, stepping just out of arm's length. Her eyes never left the Doctor's.
Dr. Crawford clenched her jaw and then bowed her head some, "Of course."
Minho was the first to reach her as she was escorted into the room, wrapping her into a bone crushing hug. She chuckled against his chest, hugging him back.
"Don't kill her before the rest of us get a chance to say hello." Newt pulled the two apart, taking Minho's place and hugging her just a tight.
Winston was next and then Frypan, who lifted her off her feet some. She swatted at him, laughing, happy to be reunited with her boys once again. When she was safely placed on the floor once again, the group stepped away to make room for Thomas. He held the same expression as he had in her dream, eyes searching, lips parted slightly. Her heart leapt into her throat as he stepped towards her. She met him halfway, wrapping her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her neck, arms coiling around her waist. The sigh of relief that escaped her made him pull her even closer.
With reunions over with, they settled into a comfortable silence, claiming their beds officially. Cleo didn't expect herself to be tired after all the sleep she had gotten, but was surprised when her eyelids drooped. Curling underneath the blanket, she welcomed sleep happily.
Thomas stood at the sink, splashing water in his face for the hundredth time. He glanced back at Cleo, like he had every couple of seconds for the past hour, making sure she was actually there. He was relieved to have her back, seemingly unharmed as well, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about her. Her features were soft, lips pouted out some like a child. Her eyes flittered behind her closed eyelids, dreaming adamantly. His mind wandered to Teresa, hoping she was safe as well. He had meant to ask Cleo if she knew anything but never got around to it. He decided to do it first thing in the morning, shuffling back to his bunk to get some sleep.
Just as his head hit the pillow, however, an almost inaudible screeching sound caught his ears. He rose up in bed, looking around the room for the culprit.
"Hey," A voice called out in the dark space, "Down here."
His face twisted into confusion and he leaned over the edge of his bed, peering underneath. The boy from the cafeteria; the one that sat by himself, was sticking halfway out of the vent beneath his bed. He waved him on.
"Come on. Follow me."
Thomas's eyebrows rose, "What?"
"Hurry, this way."
Twisting off the bed, he ducking to crawl underneath, curiosity getting the best of him. But before he could make his silent escape, Cleo's voice called out to him.
"What's going on?" She asked, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.
He moved from his bed and crouch beside her, reaching up to brush hair from her face, "Nothing. Nothing. Just go back to sleep, okay?"
"Thomas-" Her eyebrows furrowed together.
"Everything's fine, Cleo. Just go back to sleep."
She didn't do much arguing wise, letting him lay her back down and pull the blanket back up over her shoulders. She snuggled into the pillow, already asleep once again. He ran his hand through her hair momentarily before a hiss interrupted and he returned to the vent.
When he returned, she was sitting on top of the table beside his bed, legs swinging off the side. Her eyebrows rose expectantly as he slid out from under the bed. He was up on his feet immediately, staring at her with a coy expression.
"You can't just relax, can you?" She whispered. The others were still sleeping around them, though she doubted her voice would wake anyone up if Minho's snoring hadn't so far. Still, she stayed quiet.
Thomas moved in front of her, his voice low as well, "You can't tell me that you believe these people are good."
"I believe that we can actually get a good night's sleep and a hot meal. I believe that we deserve an actual bed and time to recuperate," She sighed, "I know it's all a little strange. Trust me, we're all a little skeptical. But it's okay to relax. You don't have to be a hero all the time."
Thomas's shoulders slumped at her statement. Yes, he did. He had been a part of their suffering. A part of Wicked. He couldn't let that happen again. He wouldn't.
"Cleo, something is wrong here."
Cleo wanted to roll her eyes, but she was too tired for a fight. So, instead, she crossed her arms and gave him small nod, "Go ahead, humor me."
Thomas swallowed, diving into a quick summary of his adventure through the vents, the beds, the bodies under blankets. To all of which, Cleo listened intently. By the end of his little speech he wasn't sure if she believed him or thought he was crazy. He finished, sucked in a breath of air, and waited for her to try and convince him that he was just overthinking things.
"I believe you." She spoke softly. Her face was hard to read, no emotions to tell him how she had taken the information, but the words resonated. She believed him. And that's all he needed.
A feeling came to him then, one that he had felt many times since meeting the new girl. It had become more frequent since they're arrival to the safe place- or second prison. It started in his stomach, rose to his chest, and made his cheeks hot. It came when she said his name, or looked at him with those big, blue, curious eyes.
"Thomas?"
His eyebrows raised, breaking from his thoughts to look at her.
"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm completely insane?"
His scoffed, moving to lean against the table beside her, "With my track record, nothing is really insane."
"I saw you in a dream." Her words rushed out before he could finish his own sentence, like she was trying to prove him wrong.
He quirked an eyebrow. That was definitely not what he expected her to say. Then dread settled in. I saw you. The words repeated in his head. First hers. Then Alby's. And then Ben's. Daunting. Threatening.
"It started with my mother. Or- I guess, what I assume is my mother. I can only hear her voice," She talked slowly now, hoping not to lose him, "She tells me that what I'm doing is dangerous; that I have to be careful. And then, she disappears and," She looked at him, staring into his eyes, "and then there's you."
"What happens- do I say anything? What happens?"
Cleo shook her head, looking down at her hands, "No. Nothing."
She was lying. He can tell. He reached out, tentatively, lacing his fingers with hers to assure her, he won't judge her, but when she looks at him his heart sinks. Tears line her bottom eye lid.
"When I got stun- when I went through the Changing," He decides to confess himself, maybe if he admits to seeing her, she'll finish her own, "I saw you too. You were there; you were telling me that we couldn't let them die. You said I had to stop them."
Her eyes widened, blinking away the tears that had once threatened to roll down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, regaining her confidence when a buzzer went off. They jumped apart, and looked around for the source of the noise. The others sleeping jerked away, groaning at stiff muscles.
Their conversation would have to wait.