Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{4.1}

Disclaimer:

*morgan evans voice* Hey everyone! Welcome to the roast of Theo. Theo? More like The-nobody likes you. ROASTED!

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The weirdest thing about the next day was that I couldn't remember anything about the previous night. I just had the distant, cloudy memory of running to Thomas. Anything else was a void of frustrating blackness.

According to Teresa, I had somehow felt Thomas' pain. She had slung me onto her back and carried me all the way back to the Homestead. Chuck helped her get me up the stairs and to my room. When they dumped me onto my bed, I had half-lidded eyes and kept muttering two words in a dreamy manner: "He's remembering."

I had no recollection of any of that, but apparently I was experiencing too much agony to think straight. The thing that puzzled me the most was the fact that I felt perfectly fine as of then. No amount of discomfort was plaguing my nerves. I felt simply at ease, except for the nagging confusion as to how I had felt some of my brother's suffering.

Teresa understood that if the other Gladers knew about what really happened, they'd interrogate me until my brain turned to mush and I went bug-eyed. Only a select few knew the truth- Newt, a still bed-ridden Theo, Teresa, and Chuck. Minho was probably still hiding in his room.

A little while later I finally decided to get out of bed. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet and I slipped by worn, grass-stained combat boots on. They had become my trusty companion during my stay; one constant variable in the ever-changing society I was forced into. I brushed out my hair and left it in a messy side braid. After quickly changing into a new pair of clothes, I headed into the hallway.

The Med-jacks hadn't kept me overnight. They had worse problems to deal with than me. With Theo's injury and Thomas going through the Changing, their hands were completely full. For once, I was completely free to do whatever I wanted with my day. I decided to start it out by visiting Thomas.

The second I opened the door at the end of the hallway, Jeff stood up. His short-cropped hair was messy and his eyelids had purple bags beneath them. He looked exhausted.

"There's my favorite twin," he greeted with a tired smile, shoulders slack and entire body slouching with fatigue.

I laughed softly. "Let's hope Thomas can't hear you."

When I said my brother's name, Jeff turned to the unconscious boy lying in the bed beside him. My eyes drifted to him and my heart immediately picked up its speed. He looked awful- skin white as paper, blue and black veins sticking out of his skin, and pale, cracked lips. His eyes darted around beneath his closed and fluttering lids. Thomas' chest rose and fell unevenly in time with labored breaths. The sight of him like this made my stomach churn in on itself. I felt like I was going to be sick.

"He's...doin' alright," Jeff said slowly, almost as if he was unsure. "I mean, for a person going through the Changing, that is." He noticed my queasy facial expression and waved his hand toward the door. "Come back later when he's a bit better. Eat somethin'. Talk to Theo. Go for a walk- I don't care. Just make sure you don't puke while you do it."

Even though my insides were threatening to explode, I managed a shaky laugh and a timid smile. "I will take those suggestions into consideration. See you, Jeff."

He gave me a closed-lipped grin. "See ya."

I turned and walked to the door, hesitating when I got close to it. My hand hovered over the knob as my mind raced with thoughts. As soon as I laid my fingers on the warm metal, Thomas heaved a trembling groan from behind me. I whirled around to face him. Jeff blocked my vision and gave me a pointed look. "Go."