A/N: Again, I've totally failed to follow my plans and best intentions and instead I've left you hanging for way too long, and for that I am terribly, truly sorry. The only way I can at least try to make up for it is to post this new chapter now (thinking that better late than never) and inform you that the story truly is coming to its end; this is the last chapter there is and after this one only the epilogue remains to be revealed. I will try my best to get it published during next week, so you really don't have to wait for too long anymore.
Without further ado, enjoy the chapter! x
Now I've got you in my space
I won't let go of you
Newt's dreams were filled with whispers, blurred faces, and enormous, ivy-filled walls that were closing in around him. He dreamt of running through those endless, dark corridors that were almost identical in their resemblance. In his dream, he was trying to reach the constantly fading ball of light moving far ahead of him, but it just kept disappearing behind the corners ahead. He felt desperate beyond words, and his breath was flowing in and out of his chest in painful, tearing gasps. He knew he couldn't make it much further anymore when suddenly he saw that the corridor he was currently running ended to nothing; only an empty darkness was awaiting him, and he tried to slow down his pace but the emptiness neared him incredibly fast and there was no chance of stopping his momentum which tripped him over the edge and made him fall through the darkness and then down, down, down...
Suddenly Newt landed on a cold, hard surface with a crash, the impact knocking all air out of his lungs and leaving him gasping as his eyes flew open in shock and a deafening yell echoed all around him.
As an afterthought, Newt realised the shout hadn't come out of his own mouth.
There was a tearing, throbbing ache on his left shoulder caused by the forceful collision with the floor. Newt grasped his shoulder and grimaced as he tried to drew some air into his lungs, coughing.
It took a while before Newt could shake his dizziness away and make sense of his surroundings, but soon he realised he had just fallen out of a familiar Homestead bed, and his hammering heart calmed down just a bit.
As Newt gingerly rose to lean on his forearms, there was a low groan and a creak of the bed until a drowsy, slightly cracked voice uttered somewhere above him, "What the hell-?"
Newt's heart thudded painfully hard in his chest as a realisation finally hit him. Faster than a thought, he scrambled up from the floor and a shaky exclamation of utter wonder slipped past his lips as he took in the sight of the sweaty, panting and disheveled dark-haired boy lying on the bed, "Tommy!"
Thomas's confused gaze finally set upon Newt and the boy froze as the frowns and lines on his face were cleared out by disbelief and wonder matching Newt's own.
"Newt?" Thomas croaked out in a barely audible voice, trying to raise his upper body from the bed.
Tears stung Newt's eyes and a broken, disbelieving laugh escaped his lips, and then he surged forward, not caring if he crushed Thomas's chest as he landed on top of him and grabbed his face tenderly between his palms, closing his eyes and claiming his lips with his own.
Thomas gasped against Newt's lips in surprise before he melted in the kiss and his hands grabbed Newt's back, his fingers digging in his soft skin tightly.
The kiss was messy, unbalanced, and fierce, and way too short for Newt's liking since suddenly the door to the room was thrown open and a group of flustered Gladers barged in, lured in by the yells and crashes coming from the room.
The arrival of the other boys made Newt and Thomas both startle and back out of the kiss, their cheeks coloured a bright shade of red.
Everyone was silent for a while, but then Chuck pushed in from behind Alby.
"Thomas, you're awake!" the young boy screeched happily, rushing closer to the bed.
Newt shot Thomas a quick, mildly embarrassed smile and moved aside to sit on the chair next to the bed, but stopped when Thomas grabbed him firmly by the hand. Newt looked at the other boy, surprised, but Thomas just smiled at him crookedly and tugged at his hand. A burst of warmth spreading in his chest, Newt got the hint and sat down on the bed, right next to Thomas.
"Hey, Chuck!" Thomas greeted happily, bumping his fist with Chuck's as the boy got next to him.
There was a whole crowd gathering in the room and behind the door as the word of Thomas's awakening spread quickly through the Homestead. Exclamations of joy and cheers echoed in the small space since everyone was relieved to find Thomas awake and well.
Soon Alby turned to face the crowd, his arms raised, "Now, now, let's give Thomas some space to breathe and recover further. I'm sure you'll all get a chance to chat with him all you like later. For now, just get back to work since it ain't going nowhere. But you can spread word that we'll have a special Bonfire night as soon as these shanks get fully recovered!"
There were more cheers after that, and then most of the boys started piling out of the room. Chuck was the last to leave and wouldn't even have left if Alby hadn't threatened to throw him into the Pit for two days if he stayed. In the end only Alby, Clint, and Jeff stayed inside, facing Thomas and Newt.
"So, Greenie," Alby started with a much more serious tone and stepped closer, pointedly ignoring Newt. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"
Thomas looked a bit dazed, but then again, it was no wonder considering he had just woken up after getting god-knows-how-many-hours of sleep. Other than that, he seemed to be coping just fine from Newt's point of view even though Newt could sense confusion and bafflement gathering under the surface.
"I'm good," Thomas said, trying to rise up to a sitting position, but the movement made him squeeze his eyes tightly shut and hiss in pain. He shrugged off Newt's worried hands and tried again, this time managing to drag his upper body up so as to lean his back into the wall. "I'm just – rather curious as to why I'm here. How on Earth did you get us out of there?" he wondered, his face troubled as he gestured to Newt and himself, and looked at the Gladers, clearly confused.
"Tommy," Newt asked gently, squeezing his hand and making Thomas to look at him. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Thomas seemed to be slightly taken aback by the question, and his frown deepened, his gaze moving from Newt to stare deep into nothing in particular as he clearly tried to recall his memories. Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut again and drew in a sharp breath, raising his free hand to grab at his temple.
Newt inched closer immediately. "Tommy, are you alright?"
Thomas massaged his temple with his fingers and re-opened his eyes, looking apologetically at Newt. "Yeah.. It's- It's just my head. There was this sudden throbbing pain when I tried to think through the fog that seems to be clouding my thoughts right now," Thomas sighed, shaking his head as if to clear some space inside it.
Newt nodded in understanding. "I know how it feels, I went through it myself not too long ago," he said, and then an idea occurred to him. He leaned closer to Thomas and reached around him, secretly enjoying the way Thomas's breath hitched at his closeness, and grabbed a plate of fresh sandwiches and a bottle of juice which someone had brought to the table while they were asleep.
"Here, have some snack. It helps, I promise," Newt assured with a smile, handing out the food.
Thomas grinned gratefully at the sight of food and bit into a sandwich without another word.
The other boys in the room had observed the interaction with differing states of embarrassment, but none of them could hide their amusement as Thomas groaned loudly in appreciation as the flavour-rich taste filled his mouth.
"Oh, man, I never knew food tasted so good! Where's Frypan, I could actually kiss him right now!" Thomas declared ruefully, earning a gentle smack upside the head from Newt.
"Oi, watch your mouth, Greenie!" Newt growled, mock-hurt. He couldn't hold his scowl for long, however, not when Thomas was looking at him from under his eyelashes like that.
Then Alby cleared his throat, bulging his crossed arms uncomfortably. "Whenever you're ready, Thomas, we really would like to hear what you have to say," he said in a tense tone.
Thomas glanced at Alby, his cheeks burning red again, and went on with his eating in quiet.
He munched and swallowed one more huge bite before he set the sandwich aside, taking a long drink from the bottle. Then he cleared his throat, his eyes on his lap.
"The last thing I remember..is getting stuck inside the Maze and fighting the Griever with Newt," Thomas glanced at Newt with a tight, pained expression. "We got hurt pretty bad, and my memories are kind of blotchy and blurred.. The last thing I remember is Newt's voice, calling out my name," Thomas admitted, lost in thought.
Newt's eyes widened at Thomas's confession, and his heart picked up its pace inside his ribcage.
"Interesting," Alby mused after a while, and finally Thomas lifted up his gaze, looking at their Leader.
"This is where you step in and explain to me how you found us, right?" Thomas asked, his tone expectant.
Alby's eyes narrowed as he turned his head slightly to the side and answered, "That's just it, Greenie. We did find you from the Maze, three days after you disappeared." The confused expression on Thomas's face only intensified at these words, but Alby wasn't finished yet. "But I think we all agree that it's quite clear that someone else found you before us, and patched you up pretty well before ditching you back inside the Maze."
Thomas's face paled even further. "What – What do you mean?" he stammered, looking at Newt for confirmation.
Newt's mouth was a grim line as he nodded. "He's right, Tommy. I told Minho everything earlier, and we think..We think it was the Creators who got us out of the Maze and healed us and...messed with our memories, so that we can't remember what really happened out there."
Thomas stared at him, his jaw dropping. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he was too shocked to get any words out.
"Yes, we've got a nice little bundle of mysteries right here, haven't we?" Alby commented with a thin smile. Newt turned his gaze to him, frowning, and Alby gave him the shortest glance back before continuing, "Yes, Minho explained the situation for the rest of us while you were resting."
Thomas was shaking his head, still having hard time catching up with the news. "But – what happens now? What are we going to do about this?" He looked at Newt first, but as he was met with as blank and confused a stare as his own, he looked at the rest of the boys in the room in hope for an answer.
Alby raised his eyebrows, looking a bit unsure for the first time during the conversation. "I – I'm not sure if there's much we can do about it. The most important thing is that you're both alive and well. It's not like we can actually confront the Creators... Shuck, this is so messed up," Alby murmured, anger in his voice. He sighed deeply. "But we'll have a Gathering soon enough, now that you're both awake. I guess we just have to content feeling grateful, for now."
Thomas visibly recoiled and his spine straightened up, his eyebrows settling in an angry line and Newt just knew what the boy was going to say – and he agreed, strongly – but he also knew it wouldn't do any good to get cross with Alby right now. So he squeezed Thomas's hand, hard, and as the boy turned his head to look at him, an angry retort already forming on his lips, Newt shook his head ever so slightly.
Thomas's eyes twinged with confusion, but he closed his mouth and rounded his shoulders, lowering his gaze to his lap. Newt sighed inwardly. He really didn't feel like fighting, not now.
Suddenly Thomas's jaw clenched again and Newt noticed the way his other fist tightened around the bedsheet.
"Is Ben still around?" the dark-haired boy asked with thinly concealed hatred.
Newt startled, and he could feel his own teeth grinding together tightly as the Builder's face flashed in his mind. He had to admit he hadn't given a single bit of thought for the bastard ever since it all had went down to hell in the Maze. Truth be told, Newt wouldn't have minded in the least if Ben had been scorched out of his memory for good.
Alby looked at Thomas with a surprise matching Newt's own. After the initial surprise, though, Alby's face hardened, and he averted Thomas's gaze as he answered, "No. He was banished the day after you were gone. Not one single Glader opposed, I can assure you."
Thomas nodded approvingly, and Newt noted how his shoulders relaxed at this piece of news. Similarly, he could feel a weight being lifted from his own chest, and he let out a relieved breath.
"What about the others assisting him?" Thomas inquired after a moment of silence.
"We had a Gathering, and the boys involved got the Council convinced that Ben had forced them all into it, and threatened them if they tried to decline. The Council settled on punishing them all with a week in the Pit. We made it clear to them there is no messing with the rules anymore or they, too, will be banished, and without trial," Alby stated with a grave face.
"Good that," Newt said, voicing both his and Thomas's thoughts, judging by the calm nod Thomas gave him.
All of a sudden, Newt felt a surge of gratitude towards Alby. The boy had acted admirably and taken care of the wrongdoers and kept the Glade running even in the middle of all the chaotic events. He felt bad for getting so worked up with his friend earlier, even if his words had truly hurt him.
He looked at Alby now, hoping to meet his gaze, and finally, Alby looked back at him. Newt gave him the smallest of smiles, trying to convey his feelings through his expression.
In the end, Alby seemed to understand. There was a certain pain in his eyes that Newt had become familiar with over the past few weeks, one that Newt hoped would some day fade away. But the shape of Alby's smile was kinder now, and it gave Newt hope and reassured him that things would work out, after all.
After that, Jeff and Clint finally broke out of their reveries they had been in during the whole confusing interaction, and insisted on giving both Newt and Thomas a proper look-over. Both boys glanced at each other and groaned, assuring they were feeling perfectly fine – that there was absolutely no reason to make any fuss – but all their complaints were taken for granted.
After fifteen minutes or so, Newt was nevertheless glad enough to hear that Thomas's remaining injuries were healing fast ("Incredibly fast, to be honest," as Jeff had put it), as were his own, too.
Newt noticed how quiet and pale Thomas had gotten the longer he spent talking and going over things, and he bet the boy was feeling just as confused and mentally exhausted as he had after he woke up for the first time after the Maze incident. Thus he asked everyone to let them rest after Jeff and Clint were finally done, and the others agreed without much complaint.
When they were finally alone again, Thomas let out a long, tense breath he had been holding, but the pained wrinkle between his eyebrows stayed. Wordlessly, Newt crawled closer and placed his dry lips on Thomas's temple, a gesture which coaxed a smile out of Thomas's lips and made him raise his palm to curve around the nape of Newt's neck, his fingers brushing the blond curls tenderly.
"You okay?" Newt whispered, bringing their foreheads together and letting their breath mingle together.
"Yeah," Thomas murmured, caressing Newt's skin with his fingers. "My head hurts, 's all."
"I know," Newt sighed. "Apparently it's the side effect of having your brain messed up with," he added with a bitter voice.
Thomas was quiet, and after a while Newt pulled back to look at him. The expression he found on Thomas's face was unreadable.
"It's just so wrong, Newt. What they did to us. What they are doing to us this very moment," Thomas said, shaking his head.
Newt stared at him, swallowing thickly through the feelings of hatred and loss pooling in his throat.
"They have no right to decide our fate, and yet they act like they have the only right. It's like they control every little thing in our lives, all the time. They take our memories, they throw us here, inside a Maze full of beasts ready to kill us anytime they desire. Then they suddenly choose to spare us, and send us back here. I'm just sick of all of this, I'm sick of not having control over my own life anymore," Thomas grunted between gritted teeth.
"Aren't we all," Newt murmured, hating to see Thomas so discouraged, and decided to try another approach. "But whatever their twisted reasons are for doing this and bringing us back... There are things that they can't control." Thomas turned to look at him then, his hazel-brown eyes vulnerable and open, and Newt's heart thumped heavily in his chest at that look. He swallowed down the sappy words concerning feelings quickly before his treachorous mouth would betray him, and said instead, "There's bound to be flaws in every system. There's bound to be some things they have overlooked and are unable to predict." There was something about the words he had just said that flickered something in his mind, giving him a feeling there was something familiar there that he had acknowledged without a conscious thought – but the feeling passed, and in the end he continued, "We just have to do what we did before. Fight back and survive. We'll figure this out, Tommy. I'm sure of it."
"You're starting to sound like Minho," Thomas noted with a warm smile that revealed his dimple. "Speaking of whom, where is he? I didn't see him earlier."
With a shaky inhale, Newt realised that Thomas probably had no idea about the suffers Minho had gone through. How could he since the shuckfaces knocked him out before smuggling him into the Maze? Once again, a scorching rage flared up inside him just thinking about Ben and his gang, and he wasn't careful enough to hide his emotions since the smile on Thomas's face dropped as he saw the way Newt's jaw tightened and his eyes hardened.
"Newt, what's happened?" Thomas demanded, leaning closer.
Newt averted his eyes as he carefully answered, "It's – Minho's probably just resting."
"What do you mean, resting? He doesn't do much resting unless he's forced to and-"
"He's...recovering," Newt cut in, and went on quickly before Thomas could interrupt since the boy was already frowning and opening his mouth. "Minho got attacked by Ben and the others, just before they took you into the Maze."
"What!?" Thomas exclaimed, stunned.
"It's true, Tommy. He's in pretty bad shape, but being the stubborn shank that he is, he's already walking on about with his walking stick. But truth is.. he won't be running for a while," Newt explained, finally turning his eyes back to observe Thomas's reaction.
Thomas was quiet, his breath going in and out in audible, raspy puffs. His head was hanging down, his chin almost touching his chest. His hand was limp against Newt's.
Just as Newt raised his other hand to touch Thomas's shoulder reassuringly, Thomas uttered out with a toneless voice, "It's my fault."
Newt groaned in frustration, sweeping his raised hand through his own hair, "Oh come on, Tommy, we've already been through this-"
"No, you don't understand," Thomas interrupted, his voice sounding angrier now, "It's – all of this is my fault. If it wasn't for me, Ben would never had started bossing around like that, he never would've attacked Minho, and he never would've been able to lure you into the Maze and almost made you die-"
Newt growled low in his throat and surged forward, fisting his hands in Thomas's collar and pushing his back hard against the headboard of the bed, making the other boy's eyes fly open in surprise and his lips part slightly.
"You listening to me all nice and quiet now, yeah?" Newt snarled, his eyes narrowed. He was seriously getting tired of hearing Thomas blame himself for every lovin' problem on this Earth. "I won't hear another word of you making it all about you, alright? None of it was your fault. Ben was a lunatic long before you came here. For one reason or another, he just happened to completely snap after you arrived, but I'm telling you, that slinthead would've made something stupid sooner or later. It's not your fault he decided to take it all out to you."
"So I'm just a victim here, is that what you're saying?" Thomas inquired, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
"Yes," Newt stressed, but after Thomas gave him his you-gotta-be-kidding-me look, he rolled his eyes and said, "Well, I do admit you attacking Ben was a really stupid move," Newt rolled his eyes at Thomas's scoff at his words, before continuing, "but other than that, I think victim is exactly what you are."
Suddenly Thomas's eyes darkened dangerously, and it made Newt swallow thickly. He opened his mouth, not really knowing what he was going to say next. Newt had just the time to register the way Thomas's gaze lowered to his lips until the dark-haired boy quickly leaned closer and gave his lips a bruising kiss.
Newt gasped against Thomas's dry but burning hot lips as his hands grabbed Thomas's collar tighter and he drew the boy closer, kissing him back in earnest.
Thomas's hands traveled over Newt's back and up his neck, burying themselves into Newt's hair. Newt straddled Thomas's hips, pushing himself closer, but suddenly Thomas jerked under him, a groan of pain escaping his throat. Newt drew his mouth away from Thomas's in panic and jumped to move away, almost falling to the floor.
"Oh, shuck, Tommy I'm so sorry-" Newt stammered, his heart hammering in his chest.
"No, Newt, it's okay-" Thomas assured, but his face was still scrunched up from evident pain, his hand pressed over his abdomen.
"No, I'm sorry- I forgot- Just lie down, okay? I'm gonna-" Newt fussed, his hands shaking as he started to get up from the bed.
"Newt," Thomas said, his voice raspy as he grasped Newt's hand in his own. "You're not going anywhere."
Newt stopped, staring at Thomas – his determined, handsome, absolutely lovable face – for a moment until he caved in and sank back into the mattress.
"Don't you dare apologize to me, it was me who started it," Thomas said, raising his palm to cup Newt's cheek tenderly. "We just gotta be a bit careful, I guess," he added, smiling his crooked smile that Newt held so very dear.
Newt nodded in agreement, pushing his head gently against Thomas's hand, causing the boy's smile widen. Then Newt's lips turned to a mischievious grin, and he drawled, "Well, technically, it was me who caused you to start it and-"
Shaking his head in amusement, Thomas pressed his thumb against Newt's lips, effectively quieting him down.
"Let's not get into details, yeah?" Thomas's voice rumbled in his chest as a slow smile crept on his lips. Newt's breath trembled and his eyes fell shut as Thomas slowly moved his thumb on his lips. Thomas let out a low, satisfied chuckle at Newt's reaction before he started lowering himself down on the bed, tugging at Newt with his hands to hint for him to do the same.
Newt opened his eyes and with a smile playing on his lips, he settled down as well, curling his body around Thomas's.
They created a tight bundle of bodies together, and soon Newt couldn't have been able to tell where his own limbs ended and where Thomas's began, so entwined they were in each other.
As Newt nudged his head against Thomas's chest, trying to find a good position, he heard Thomas's already sleepy voice above his head. "Actually, we should go and see how Minho's doing."
Newt moved his hand up and down Thomas's arm in a calming gesture as he whispered, "Later."
He felt Thomas let out a sigh until the boy nodded, his chin touching the top of Newt's head.
Newt closed his eyes and let himself float in the intoxicating feeling of safety and belonging caused by the proximity of the dark-haired boy. Minute by minute, he felt the stress and anxiety leave his body as his muscles relaxed and his body sag further into Thomas, his heart rate settling on a strong, steady rhythm and his breath flowing easily in and out of his lungs.
After some time, Thomas broke the silence with a barely concealed snort. Newt's brow furrowed and he was just about to ask what it was, when Thomas chuckled, amusement clear on his voice as he said, "I can't believe you slept with me in this poor excuse of a bed which is clearly made for one person, and one person only."
Newt recoiled, slightly pissed off at Thomas's amusement. He rose up to lean on one forearm, looking down at Thomas's laughter-lit face.
"Let me tell you, I was sleeping quite comfortably on this very bed until some dumb shank decided to kick me out to the cold floor, screaming like a maniac," Newt pointed out with a mock-scowl on his face which melted immediately as Thomas's smile only widened and the boy took his hand swiftly in his, bringing Newt's knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly.
"My bad," Thomas mouthed, and Newt shook his head in defeat, unable to suppress his grin.
Leaning his chin on his free hand, Newt turned his head to the side and mused, "I guess I'm stuck with you, then?"
Thomas looked Newt deeply in the eyes as he straightened Newt's hand, moving their palms together before intertwining their fingers and giving Newt's index finger a gentle bite with his teeth.
Newt's chest twinged by surprise, and something else, at the action.
"Yes, you are," Thomas smiled.
Newt hummed in satisfaction, leaning closer inch by inch, witnessing the way Thomas's eyes fluttered close and his lips parted slightly in anticipation.
"I think I could get used to that," Newt breathed, smiled, and sealed Thomas's lips with his own.