Thomas leaned against the wall of the small hospital room, watching Newt sleep. Melissa was in the only chair scratching notes onto her clipboard, Derek was right outside the door, standing guard with two other werewolves whose names Thomas couldn't quite remember. Scott and Lydia had gone to investigate the howl that shook the entire hospital, and Malia hadn't made another appearance since Thomas had yelled at her.
"What's the discoloration of his veins from?" Melissa asked, pulling Thomas from his thoughts. He sighed, feeling more tired than he ever remembered feeling before.
"It's the Flare, a virus that broke out after the sun flares were supposed to have burned the earth"
"I've never seen this before, and that's saying something. I mean, I see a lot of things, a lot of different DNA. I've seen viruses on a supernatural level and I've never come across anything like this." Thomas pushed off the wall and walked the few feet between him and Newt.
"Its what WICKED was using us for, to find a cure for the flare. it's something about brian patterns, we were lab rats." Thomas stared at Newt who looked almost peaceful. "Not all of us were immune, Newt isn't immune, they infected him on purpose and forced me to watch it change him. Every day i watched him get worse until I just couldn't anymore. When they found us, the uniform i was wearing? That was theirs, i was working for them, doing terrible things to people that didn't deserve it all because i couldn't watch my best friend die like this." Thomas's words caught in his throat and he shook his head, trying to clear it. "Sorry, I uh, i don't know why i said that." he admitted glancing sheepishly back at Melissa.
"You don't need to be sorry. for any of it, Thomas. You did what you've always done.' Thomas looked at her with a confused expression. She set her clipboard aside and placed a hand on his knee. "You've always done whatever it takes to keep the people you love safe, with almost no thought to how it would affect you in the long run. That's who you are, and you will never ever have to apologize for that, not to me, and not to anyone else." Thomas only nodded and Melissa smiled at him, "Now, is there anything else you can tell me about the virus?" Thomas cleared his throat.
"Yeah, it's not just going to make him sick and it's not just going to kill him. It's going to change him. It's going to turn him crazy and all he'll want to do is kill, and eat," Thomas was looking at Newt again, at the golden hair that fell just over his eyes, and his hands that were half covered in the inky veins. Thomas gently held one of Newts hands in his. "But I can save him, or at least buy him some more time, I know the cure, well I am the cure."
"Wait, what do you mean you are the cure?" Melissa asked.
"My blood is part of the cure, I'm completely immune. But WICKED might still be in control of him." Thomas watched the rise and fall of Newts chest. "They would hurt him, he'd probably escape and go back to them." Thomas blinked back tears ad looked up at Milissa, "I can't, I can't lose him," Thomas's words came out in gasps as he desperately tried to suck in air.
"Hey, hey, breathe, Thomas, breathe." Melissa leaned forward and placed her hands on his, "you are not going to lose anyone, okay? So why don't you teach me how to make that cure and when Scott comes back we can make a plan okay? We're going to save your friends Thomas, all of your friends, and we're going to bring WICKED down for everything they've done to you okay?" Thomas nodded because that's all he could do.
"Tommy" it wasn't the sinister voice of WICKED that rasped through the room and seemed to bounce off the walls, but it wasn't the reassuring and calming voice that Thomas was used to either. The word came out in a growl. Thomas jumped backward, almost falling off the edge of the bed. "Tommy." It took Thomas a minute to realize Newt was reaching for him, he wasn't sure if it was to hold him or to try to kill him but Thomas grabbed Newts hand regardless.
"I'm here Newt, I'm right here," Thomas whispered, using his free hand to lightly comb through Newts hair again.
"Tommy." Newts eyes flew open and Thomas's breath caught in his chest, the hints of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. Newts eyes were wide and they rolled in his head. Thomas experimentally squeezed the hand he was still holding, half expecting Newt to pull away but instead, he was sitting up.
"Easy Newt, you need to stay down," Thomas pushed gently on Newts shoulder, pushing him down onto the bed but Newt was fumbling with his other arm, searching for something in the blankets and his clothes until he pulled out a crumpled and folded piece of paper out of a pocket. Newt was shoving it in Thomas's direction.
"Take it, Take it!" He kept repeating, his voice wavering and tangling somewhere in his throat, the words almost sounded like growls.
"Okay, okay, I got it." Thomas took the piece of paper and shoved it deep into his pocket subconsciously deciding it could wait till later. Newts hand was ripped from his and Thomas could actually see the virus taking over. Thomas grabbed for Newts wrists, pinning them to either side of the boy. "Hey, Hey Newt stay with me man, we're going to help you, we're going to cure you okay Newt, it's going to be okay."
"No!" Newt snarled, his eyes glazing over and Thomas could see the veins that had crept up his Neck, The virus was spreading fast, too fast. Newt was thrashing, trying to pull his hands-free from Thomas's hold and he was almost successful. Thomas straddled the boy, pinning him down much more effectively.
"Melissa!" He yelled as loud as he could manage, which wasn't loud enough. Newt writhed beneath him, growling and glaring at Thomas. "it's just the virus, it's just the virus, it's just the virus." Thomas didn't know if he was speaking the words or thinking them in an endless loop, but regardless he held onto them like a lifeboat.
The door swung open behind him and Melissa appeared to his right. "Hold him still." She said and Thomas could see the syringe out of the corner of his eye. Thomas grunted and leaned forward a bit, shifting his weight and doing his best to keep the squirming boy still. He watched Melissa sink the Needle into Newts Neck and he could see the effects wash over Newts face. his eyes slid half closed, and his whole body relaxed. As soon as he stopped fighting Thomas moved off of him and across the room leaning against the wall. he barely noticed Derek Standing in the doorway looking between him, Newt and Melissa. He ignored both of their stares and stood there with his arms crossed tightly across his chest like he was holding himself together, and maybe he was.
"It shouldn't have happened that fast." Thomas broke the silence that had fallen over the room."The Flare is spreading, based on his condition a few hours ago when we brought him in he should have had at least a few days before he started losing control." more even, Thomas thought to himself, the first time he lasted almost a week before falling apart, "either WICKED messed something up in his brain when they took control of him or," Thomas stopped talking and closed his eyes.
"Or what?" Derek asked, impatience seeping into his words.
"Or, this is a new strand of the disease, something faster and stronger, and just worse."
"Can you cure it?" Melissa asked. Thomas opened his eyes and looked at her.
Thomas sighed and dropped his arms from his chest, choosing instead and bury them in his pockets. "I don't know, but I'm going to try." his hand closed around the paper Newt had shoved at him before he'd gone crazy. "did you get the handcuffs?" he asked, she looked at him with guarded eyes.
"Well, no, they were broken, but I do have some rope from my car." She was holding it up and Thomas felt like he was going to be sick. he couldn't tell if the rope she held was actually stained or if he was just remembering them that way, but he pushed all of it down and took it from her. staring at them in his hands. "We'll be outside," Melissa said after a moment and Thomas loved her for always seeming to know what he needed without him having to say a thing.
The door closed with a quiet click and Thomas let out a shuddering breath he didn't remember holding. in one hand he held the rope and in the other he could feel the paper pressed into his palm where Newts hand had been just a few minutes before. he thumbed the paper in his pocket but didn't pull it out yet. he needed to get this done and whatever Melissa had given him wouldn't last long. the Flare burned through it. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed again and took a section of rope, it was already cut and Thomas tried not to think about why in the world sweet Melissa would need pre sectioned rope.
Newts veins were an angry contrast to his pale skin, and Thomas could see the traces of where the last rope was wrapped around those wrists. Thomas looked at his own wrists, his marks were darker and stood out more than Newts. he took the rope and wrapped it around Newts wrist, lose enough not to cut off the circulation or hurt him unnecessarily but tight enough for him not to escape it. it took everything in Thomas to tie the other end of the rope to the side of the bed. his breath was coming more in gasps then actual breathing but he pushed through it, leaning over Newt to tie his other arm down. Thomas's thumb brushed over the exposed skin there and he felt his heart sink impossibly further. There were scars here too, from the ropes. but thick lines decorated the skin, normally barely noticeable but with the ugly veins under the surface, he could make them out easier. Thomas fumbled with the rope and hurriedly tied off the knot.
He tried to kill himself in the maze you know? Thomas could feel the blood drain from him. he was unexplainably cold and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Who? but there wasn't anyone else she could be talking about.
He woke up early one morning so that nobody would try to stop him. Thomas covered his ears with his hands though he knew it wouldn't make a difference. her voice was in his head. Bouncing around in his mind, unwelcome and unwanted and stained in his memory.
He ran into the maze, as soon as the doors opened. Thomas squeezed his eyes closed and bite down on his lip hard, breaking the skin.
"Get out of my head." he whimpered as he thought it, moving backward from Newt until he could feel the wall against his back. He slides down it, still clutching his ears, trying to drown out the sound.
He was terrified as he ran, and he ran far looking for the perfect place.
"Get out of my head!" Thomas shouted, burying his head in his knees. he didn't hear the door open he didn't know there was anybody else in the room with him until he felt hands on him, one on his shoulder and one on his shin. someone was talking to him but he couldn't hear them, he couldn't make out what they were saying, he could only hear her.
He found the tallest wall he could, where the ivy reached the highest and started to climb.
"Stop!" He sobbed into his arms, thinking the word at Teresa.
"Thomas look at me!" Thomas lifted his head just enough to make eye contact with Derek, who was kneeling in front of him.
When he reached the top he was scared, he hesitated, but still, he jumped.
" Please make her stop," Thomas begged Derek.
"I don't understand Thomas, what's happening? who are you talking about, tell me what to do!" his hands were on either side of Thomas's face, holding his head there, keeping Thomas looking at him.
He jumped, and when he hit the ground, he wasn't met with peace. instead, he only found more pain, and a limp that will never go away.
"Get her out of my head. make it stop." Thomas couldn't look away from where Derek was holding him still.
"How?" Derek asked, and Thomas vaguely thought that he'd never heard Derek sound so gentle, not even when he had kissed him. Thomas tried to block out the words and the pictures, tried to think but the only thing he could do was listen.
And you were the reason for it all. Thomas sagged in Derek's hands, exhausted. Teresa had fallen silent, but the images she painted still played in his head like a movie.
"Thomas?" Derek was talking, Thomas felt like he should answer but he was just too tired. His eyes flickered across the room and for the first time he realized they weren't alone, it wasn't just Thomas and Derek, Melissa was standing off to their right, covering her mouth with her hand, Lydia was Next to her and another girl with platinum blond hair that Thomas didn't quite recognize, was standing just in the doorway wearing all leather. he knew he should be embarrassed, curled up on the floor sobbing in front of so many strangers but he couldn't bring himself to care. Couldn't bring himself to pull himself up, he just wanted to sleep. he just wanted to lay here, right here on the floor, and rest. his eyes fluttered closed, he could hear Derek saying his name, he could hear the others asking either him or Derek questions but he couldn't make out any words. Thomas was vaguely aware of being picked up and moved onto a bed before he passed completely out.
"Would you be careful? If he wakes up we're screwed."
"What's he gonna do?"
"I don't know, kill us? just be fucking careful."
The voices weren't familiar and didn't make sense. Thomas was almost positive he was dreaming again. He didn't bother opening his eyes or sitting up, his body felt heavy with the need to sleep so he gave into it and the strange voices faded into silence again.
"Are you sure you got the right boy? this one doesn't seem very... scary." the voice belonged to a female.
"The Hale boy was guarding him." someone else answered. Thomas stirred slightly.
"Well, regardless I think our guest is waking up. Get him on the fence." Thomas felt hands on him, lifting him up. He tried to fight back, to struggle against the hands holding him back. Something cold clamped onto his wrist and Thomas's eyes snapped open.
"Oh Hello there kiddo. I see you finally decided to join us. My name is Tamora Monroe, you'll call me Ms. Monroe." the woman in front of him almost managed to look sweet, and the people holding him up, and restraining him to the wall looked younger than him. She stared at him intently for a minute as the last restraint was clamped onto Thomas's ankle.
"You got the wrong boy, this isn't McCall." the boys had stepped away from Thomas and exchanged worried looks with each other.
"We didn't," one of them, the shorter one started.
"How is it possible for you to be such an idiot? Did you go to school with McCall for how many years? He was on the Lacrosse team, how is it you don't know what he looks like. News flash, he doesn't look like that." Thomas's head reeled. "Is he even a werewolf?"
"Why would he be guarded by Hale if he wasn't?" the other, taller boy said quickly. That seemed to be enough for Monroe because she was looking at him again with was more interest than Thomas was comfortable with.
"What's your name?" she asked him.
"Thomas," he said slowly, taking in the room in front of him. It was dark and it took his eyes a long time to finally adjust to it. And even then he couldn't make out anything about where he was.
"Last name?' She asked, holding her hand out to one of the boys or handed her a clipboard. Thomas only just realized he didn't know his last name. He wasn't using Stilinski. Not when he was almost certain this woman was going to kill him.
"Paige, Thomas Paige," he said quickly. She glanced up at him then back down to her clipboard, pursing her lips.
"I don't recognize you, how do you know Scott McCall?" Thomas was certain everyone could hear his heart slamming into his chest.
"I don't." Monroe hummed and narrowed her eyes at him.
"How do you know Derek Hale?" a calm washed over Thomas for a moment.
"Well I don't really know him either, I know his cousin, Miguel." Thomas had no idea where that came from. Monroe chuckled darkly.
"Turn it on." Thomas didn't have time to be afraid of what she meant. Within an instant, it felt like his entire body was on fire and he was screaming.
Thomas remembered the night before Newt entered the maze. They were the only ones awake and they were curled around each other in Thomas's bed. Newt had asked him what it would be like to forget. Thomas didn't have an answer for him. They were holding hands.
The pain stopped as soon as it had started. Monroe was staring at him curiously.
"He's not a werewolf." She said Thomas couldn't lift his head to look at her. His vision was blurred and it was all he could do not to pass out. "But if you're not a werewolf then what are you, a human shouldn't have survived that." Thomas wanted to say something. Maybe snap at her or crack a joke, something to let her know she couldn't break him. The closest he could do was smile at her. "What are you?" She asked
"You mean besides adorable?" It was difficult to force the words out.
"Do it again," Monroe demanded clearly not amused. Thomas's body convulsed with the shock waves that ran through his body.
He remembered watching Newt in the maze, he watched him every day, he was meant to be watching everyone, checking in on them all, but really 3 other people were doing just that. Subject A5, the glue. Could be seen at the top corner of his screen. He remembered watching the people he called family die one after another.
"What do you know about werewolves Thomas?" She paced in front of him.
"They make for good horror movies." Monroe chuckled humorlessly and Thomas convulsed again.
The shock stopped and he glared at Monroe. "That all you got?" he asked hoarsely.
"Oh, sweetie you don't wanna know what I can do to you." She nodded to someone and Thomas tensed, trying to prepare himself for what was to come.
"Maybe we should," one of the boys from earlier said.
"Maybe we should what?" Monroe snapped turning on the boy who had spoke up.
"I just mean, he's not a werewolf, we're going to kill him." Monroe took a step back.
"Are you going weak on me?" She asked darkly. All the boy could do was turn the dial. Thomas screamed. And without him meaning to he screamed her name in his head. He reached out to the only person that could reach him here and he hated himself for it.
Have you decided to come home yet Thomas? He wanted to tell her it wasn't the time for that, he almost begged her to help him but then he remembered that everything that had happened to them was her fault and yet another round of shock waves had him screaming, but her voice sounded different, muffled, like she was talking to him through a brick wall and maybe this was it.
" Are you going to answer my questions, Thomas?" Monroe asked grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. Thomas glared at her for a second before spitting in her face. That may have been a mistake.
The next shock lasted longer, Thomas could feel his body convulsing. He remembered watching Newt fall or Jump. he remembered seeing him climb the walls and let go at the top. Thomas screamed again for entirely different reasons.
Some…..going…...die. Teresa's voice was barely audible in Thomas's head.
"Your something else you know that? I've met few other people that have lasted this long without caving."
"I'm honored." Thomas slurred.
"Yes well, it won't help you in the long run, you'll die, either way, it'll just happen quicker if you tell me what I want to know." Thomas didn't even know what Monroe wanted at this point. "I'm not going to kill you yet," she said and Thomases head rolled in confusion. Hadn't she just said he was going to die?
Another shock went through him and Thomas felt something snap in his brain. For a second he thought he was dying. For a second he wanted to die until he thought about his Dad and Newt laying in hospital beds until he thought of all the people that had just gotten him back. No, the snap wasn't him dying it was her, it was Teressa.
"Had enough yet?" Thomas could barely hear Monroe's voice when the shocks stopped. He could feel the absence of Teresa in a way he'd never felt before. She was gone, really gone and all that was left was static. Monroe didn't like that he didn't answer, he could see her walk over to the box herself and turn a dial.
He wasn't sure when he finally passed out but he was grateful when he did, welcoming the darkness with open arms.
Thomas woke up to the shock of cold water being thrown over his entire body.
"Good morning Thomas, or should I say Stiles Stilinski, the best friend of Scott McCall and the son of Beacon Hills very own Sheriff. I heard he was in the hospital by the way." Thomas glared at the woman who had spent days torturing him. "You see we finally found someone who was willing to talk to us. Too bad she didn't last as long as you, granted being a werewolf does have some downfalls."
"Who," Thomas asked, his voice hoarse.
"Wouldnt you like to know Stiles. So now that I'm aware of who you really are why don't you start answering my questions with a little less sarcasm shall we?"
"Sounds fun but really I've got somewhere to be." Thomas didn't even know what he was saying anymore.
"Funny, you're funny. Good thing I don't need you to last much longer." Thomas did his best to hide his fear. "So first question. Where did you disappear too for over two years?"
Thomas didn't say a word. She turned the dial.
"What is Lydia Martin?"
Thomases silence was met with electricity. And the pattern followed question, silence, screaming. Thomas wasn't even sure he was conscious anymore. Thomas knew he was dying. He could actually feel his body shutting down. The edges of his vision went black and he couldn't tell if she was still shocking him or not. His head fell forward and he let his weight rest on the restraints digging into his skin in familiar ways.
There was commotion in front of him but he couldn't bring himself to lift his head to see. His vision continued to darken until there was no light left anywhere. He wanted so badly to let go. The electricity stopped and he realized she had been shocking him the whole time. Somehow his arms were free from the restraints and he sagged against something solid.
"Thomas?"