Chapter: 24

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At first, everything was dark and soundless. Newt's thoughts were the only things keeping himself sane.

The fact that he was still alive, or what he assumed was living, meant that the cranks hadn't killed him just yet but that didn't mean they wouldn't. It was just so unfair that he had suffered so much and fought so hard to only pass out and be vulnerable anyway. He really hated WICKED for what they had done to him and his friends. However, Newt's thoughts were gladly ended as he began to dream.

Orange light shone through his eyelids, waking him from his unplanned slumber. Everything he'd dreamt about had evaporated as soon as he'd woken but that wasn't what bothered Newt.

There was something warm pushed up against his left side and there was a light weight on his thigh. Fear kept Newt perfectly still and kept his eyes shut. He tried to keep his breathing regular, to mimic sleep, but it was hard when his heart rate sped up, increasing his body's need for oxygen. Just when he couldn't regulate his breathing any longer and he would have to gulp in a big breath, the thing-no person- next to him spoke,
"Just give it a rest, Minho, it's not going to work."

Newt's heart started beating quickly for a completely different reason. Not only did the person mention Minho, but he also recognised the voice. Slowly, as they were sensitive to the light shining in his face, Newt fluttered his eyes open.

"T-tommy?" He whispered, his voice scratchy and gruff.

"Newt? Newt, are you awake?" Thomas said as he squeezed Newt's thigh slightly.

The blond could finally see, after being blind in the bright light and instantly turned his head to look at Thomas. The boy was filthy but looked good compared to Newt. He had a worried smile on his lips as he searched the now conscious boy's face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Newt muttered quietly, tears running down his face again.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Newt. All of this, " Thomas motioned to the room around them as he spoke, "wasn't your fault. You were taken against your will."

"No. I wanted to apologise for what I accused you off. I know you were only looking out for me, I was stupid to think otherwise. Every second in this place I wished you were there to protect me. I-I need you, Tommy." Newt rushed out breathlessly.

"Oh."

By now, the other Gladers in the room had come over. Newt looked at them. They seemed as well as they could be in the Scorch and from what he could see, no one had gone missing since he'd last seen them. Minho came forwards and knelt in front of him with a warm smile,
"How are you feeling?"

"Like bloody klunk." Newt croaked out with a half-smile.

Minho laughed, "Good that," Then he looked between Newt and Thomas, "we'll let you two have a bit of catch up time while we try and get the shucking computer working." He stood up and motioned for the other Gladers to follow him and soon it was only Newt and Thomas left sitting up against the wall they had moved the blond to when they found him.

Newt opened his mouth to speak but before any words came out, he began coughing. Instantly, Thomas grabbed his canteen and offered it to Newt, who was just getting control of his choking. He lifted it to his lips but his hands were shaking badly, which caused water to splash over his shirt. Thomas smiled sympathetically as he held Newt's hand, to steady the canteen, and poured the liquid into the boy's dry mouth.

Newt would have kept drinking until it was empty, if Thomas hadn't pulled the can away, "take it slow. Ok." He told him kindly.

"Yeah, thank you," Newt said, his voice slightly smoother and louder, "Um, don't worry if it's any trouble, but I'm quite hungry."

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