Different | The Maze Runner / Newt ¹ ✓

{4.2}

Disclaimer:

Hey, guys, Kristyn's ghost speaking. She just saw The Scorch Trials and it was too much for her fragile heart. RIP in peace

JUST KIDDING IT'S GONNA TAKE A LOT MORE THAN THAT TO TAKE ME DOWN HA WES BALL

-✼-

I wasn't sure what I felt. I probably should've been angry at Thomas for doing this to them, to me, to us, but a part of me always just...knew. Enough suitable evidence had been presented to me; it wasn't hard to put two and two together.

My face mixed in with all the other blank stares that surrounded Thomas. Beads of sweat that sprinkled on his forehead and the way he rubbed his hands together gave away his nerves. For a brief moment, his eyes met mine, and he appeared genuinely terrified that I had no external reaction to his confession. A simple twitch of my lip and a whisper of, "It's okay," washed the horror right off of his face.

Newt was the first to actually break the silence, his voice cutting through it crisply. "What are you talking about?"

Thomas shifted uneasily. "Well, there's something I have to share. About me and Teresa. There's a reason Gally accused me of so much stuff, and why everyone who's gone through the Changing recognizes me." Silence as he paused to regain his breath. "Teresa and I are...different. We were part of the Maze Trials from the very beginning- but against our will, I swear."

Minho spoke slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a large supernova of information that was about to explode in his face. "Thomas, what're you talking about?"

"Teresa and I were used by the Creators. If you all had your full memories back, you'd probably want to kill us. But I had to tell you this myself to show you we can be trusted now. So you'll believe me when I tell you the only way we can get out of here."

Another haunting pause. The room was filled with anxious tension as we waited for the enigma to unfold. Thomas swept his gaze across the room. He showed an astonishing amount of forbearance.

"Teresa and I helped design the Maze. We helped create the whole thing."

All the Keepers were so silent that they didn't appear to breathe. Clint, who sat beside me, went stiff as a board.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Newt demanded as he tried to grapple what Thomas had told us. "You're a bloody sixteen-year-old. How could you have created the Maze?"

Thomas was struggling to grasp onto memories that were hanging on by a painfully thin thread. "We were...smart. And I think that might be a part of the Variables."

"Dylan seems awfully calm over there," Winston sneered, the accusation in his voice as clear as the acne on his face. He was leaning over to see around everyone else with his dark eyes squinted in suspicion. "How do we know she didn't help, too?"

"She didn't," Thomas affirmed calmly, sounding totally confident in himself. His voice never shook and he didn't stammer.

"You could be covering for her," Winston cut in sharply. His tone grew decibels louder with every syllable.

"Shut up!" Thomas yelled, hands gripping the sides of his seat angrily until his knuckles turned white. "I'm not finished. Teresa and I have a...gift that made us very valuable as they designed and built this place.

I felt the uneasy nerves again. Questions popped up in my mind fervently and refused to clear away. What did they have that the rest of us didn't?

"Speak!" Newt yelled eagerly. "Spit it out!"