Chapter 3. Decision.

Thomas didn't know what he'd expected before he went into the other room, but what he saw was definitely not it.

This room was much smaller than the previous one, and, judging by the large amount of dusty crates stacked in clumsy piles, it was some kind of storage room. Though he supposed 'had been' would be more appropriate if the stale air, dust and mold-infested walls were anything to go by.

The only interesting things about the room were the two doors, one on the opposite wall from where they had entered and one on the right. Both doors looked extremely worn down, but they looked like they were functioning well enough.

Thomas moved to the door on his right since it looked to be in worse shape than the other. If it was locked, Thomas might be able to kick it off its hinges.

But before he could reach the door, Newt put a hand on Thomas' shoulder, stopping him. Thomas turned to look at Newt, who was shaking his head.

"Don't go in there. I think it was used to store food, but now it looks and smells like something from the Crank Palace."

The words 'Crank Palace' triggered a string of painful memories.

Thomas remembered his last visit to the 'Palace'. When they had come to rescue Newt from the place. His friend had refused to come with them. He had threatened to shoot him and the others if they didn't leave him to rot in that awful place. Thomas' heart ached at the memory. Then it plummeted like a rock.

Did Newt still have the Flare? The mere idea made Thomas feel like crying. He didn't think he could stand it if he had to go through it all over again.

He forced himself to snap out of it and think logically. There was a fairly large possibility that he wasn't infected. He hadn't started showing signs of it until after the scorch, which was where he must have caught it. If everything had been fake, or at the very least everything that happened after the Maze, then he wouldn't have been exposed to the virus. That was under the assumption that he could catch it in the first place. He could very well be immune. Actually, there wasn't any definite proof about anyone's immunity or lack thereof.

He supposed time would tell, though the wait would be agonizing.

He turned to look at Newt. He looked just as he should have. His face wasn't twisted in a hateful sneer, his eyes weren't glazed over from insanity. He looked healthy, and kind, like he always had, though now he also looked slightly bewildered.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked.

"It's just… nothing," Thomas said, changing his mind mid-sentence. He couldn't exactly tell Newt outright that he was wondering if he had the Flare. He didn't need to burden him like that.

Unfortunately, Newt was able to guess what he was thinking.

"You're wondering if I have the Flare. Aren't you?"

Thomas wasn't sure how to respond.

"Look, I'm sorry. It's just, I couldn't help wondering…" he trailed off.

"Don't be sorry, it only makes sense you'd want to know, especially after how I acted before," Newt said, though he looked deflated.

"Well, do you have it?" Thomas asked tentatively.

Newt shrugged helplessly. "I can't be sure, but… I think so. I feel like I felt before when it started."

Thomas had tried to brace himself for the possibility, but that didn't do much to lessen the blow. He bowed his head to spare his friend the sight of his distraught expression.

"I'm sorry," Newt said, his voice unsteady with emotion, "I- I promise I won't be like I was before. I won't force you to- to-" he trailed off.

"It won't come to that," Thomas promised, "this must all be a part of WICKED's plan. We've done so much, come so far. They must be close to getting the cure now. If we just continue helping them-"

"Helping WICKED? Come on Tommy, they aren't any closer to the cure now than they were when they started. They will just continue with their pointless variables until everyone's dead. We have to escape, you said as much yourself, then at least some of you will have a chance."

"What I said before was dumb, and selfish. I regret it more than anything I've ever done. After you died I knew that I would never be able to forgive myself. Now I have a chance to make it right, and I won't waste it."

"It wasn't your fault! It was mine. You don't have to do anything, especially something that might cost you your life. I'll feel better knowing that at least you'll survive."

"Well if you don't survive, then I won't either. I'll never be able to recover if you die!" Thomas said loudly.

"You may think so now, but you'll move on eventually." Newt looked as if he was struggling to keep calm.

"Not if I have to live with the knowledge that I could have saved you. It's not too late, okay? Stop acting like it is!"

"But it is. They've been trying to find a cure for years, I have weeks,"

"I have to at least try. Please, don't give up yet. Can you do that for me?"

Newt sighed. "Fine, but if it doesn't work you have to promise me to save yourself."

"I promise," Thomas said.

He extended his hand. Newt took it, and they shook hands on it. Their hands remained clasped for a bit longer than necessary. Until the door opened with a creak.

Thomas immediately stepped in front of Newt, or he tried. Newt had apparently decided to step in front of Thomas.

They both ended up not standing in front of anyone and tripping each other in the process.

When they'd both gotten back to their feet someone else was in the room. Thomas recognized the person, unfortunately.

"If you're done debating, please follow me," said Rat Man.