What if...

Partners: Thomas + Newt

Fandom: Maze Runner

Time Stamp: death cure: 55:16 - 56:55

Moment Description: Newt pushes Thomas against the wall in anger and goes up to the roof where he then reveals his infection

Change in Moment: Thomas feels the fever radiating off of Newt and decides to do something about it

Ripple: Newt survives because I say so.

This... is a long one. I'm not even sorry. Be warned, I did hurt my own feelings writing this and it is a bit angsty at the start but i promise its comfort and fluff at the end. Anyway, good luck :)

Newt sat at the table, eyeing Brenda and Thomas. He could practically feel the pounding of Thomas's feet on the floor as he paced back and forth along the wall. He could feel the stifling tension between the two, thick enough to slice with a knife. The white uncovered fluorescent lightbulb shines down a light so bright it almost pierces into his brain. 

Sweat slowly drips down from his hairline, cooling his radiating skin. Small shivers make his hands shake a little. He balls them up into fists to keep anyone from noticing. No. Not anyone. He doesn't care about 'anyone'. It's to keep Thomas from noticing. 

His brain feels muddled. Like his thoughts are going too slowly. And his limbs won't properly respond when he tells them to. But most of all? Most of all he feels anger. The deep-seated kind of anger. The fuck-all-logic kind of anger. The kind of anger that festers in your bones. Festers in your mind kind of anger. 

He darts his eyes from the table to Thomas, knowing that he shouldn't say it but being too angry not to. The kicker is that he doesn't even know who he's angry at or why. Teresa for betraying them? Thomas for not wanting to rescue Minho? Minho for bloody getting himself caught in the first place? Himself for not having rescued Minho? Maybe even Thomas for caring so much about Teresa. He listens to them go back and forth for only a moment more before he interjects. 

"What you afraid your little girlfriend is gonna get hurt?"

Thomas's eyes drift over to Newt, trying to figure out what he will say next. He analyses Newt's face, drifting over the face he knows so well and easily notes the anger he's (trying to) hiding. The furrows of his forehead. His clenched fist. The piercing stare. All of which he's seen easily 10's of times before. But not at him. Never directed at him. And yet, he feels the concentrated fury of Newt directed solely at him and he almost feels bad for the many times Minho's had to face an angry Newt after a particularly stupid decision. 

"Hmm?" 

The hum from Newt jolts Thomas back to the conversation, making him realise that Newt expects him to respond. But before he can get in his side of the conversation, Newt continues, too caught up in his fury now to stop. The ball is rolling now and it will only pick up steam. 

"This has obviously never been about rescuing Minho, has it?" 

Newt stares at Thomas expecting him to say something. Wanting him to say something. Wanting him to say anything. Hell, he wanted him to start a fight with him. Newt could feel the anger bubbling inside of his chest, all the buried emotions from the past few months finally starting to rise to the surface. Jealousy. Anger. Hate. Betrayal. Hurt. Numbness. Judgement. Loss. Love. Shock. Overwhelm. Frighten. Exclusion. Fury. Insignificance. Pain. Suffering. All of it bubbles at his chest making it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Or hard to think properly. Hard to think rationally. 

"Wait... What are you talking about?" 

Thomas finally makes eye contact with Newt, hurt written all over his face. He only manages to hold eye contact for a split second before breaking away, the anger on Newt's face too much for him. But more so, the words hurt. They hurt like a silver knife jabbed into his skin, each word another jab at him and twisting the previous ones further. Almost as if Newt's seeing how far he can push Thomas before he breaks. Before he snapped. Before he yells back. Before the knives cause actual damage.