SONDER (IV): tmr thomas

For those we lost to the fights

Leo short

There is a hand on my shoulder, yanking me awake. I quickly sit up, my heart beating harder and harder in my chest. The hand tightens, and I reach over and grab it. I look up at Thomas, who holds me. Slowly, I loosen my grip.

Thomas kneels down behind me. He is carefully not to touch me, but he hangs close. Our bodies are inches apart. "Sorry," his voice is breathy. It tickles the back of my neck, blowing away my stray hairs. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Dawn told me to check up on you now that I'm awake."

I glance around the empty room. Newt and I were on watch while we waited for the three injured parties to wake up.

"How are you feeling?" I turn around to face him. My fingers trace the bottom hem of his pants. I slowly pull them up to get a better look at the bandaging on his leg. Rust-red blood spots it, but it doesn't seem to be bleeding any longer.

I run my hand along the bandage. "Can you feel this?"

Thomas looks down at me. His eyes are open wide, his lips delicately parted. "Yeah."

Footsteps echo down the hallway, and Thomas stumbles backwards. His back hits the ground just as Jay walks in the room.

"For the best fighter, you're pretty clumsy," Jay scoffs, wearing his grin proudly.

"Did your knee just give out?" I ask, reaching for it.

Thomas pulls his leg in close to his chest. He looks up at Jay, reading the boys face, before finally turning to me. "It's fine. Barely an ache, really."

"Well, Brenda is awake, but Jorge isn't feeling to hot," Jay notices, looking down the hallway. "They woke me up with their griping."

"What happened?" Thomas asks, looking from Jay to myself.

I shrug my shoulders, since nothing much has happened. Once we were off the platform, escaping WICKED was super easy. The hardest thing I've had to do since Sheil took over the controls, is help everyone find somewhere to sleep.

"We escaped, if you hadn't noticed." Jay lets out the first syllable of a laugh, "little Leo even flew the plane."

Thomas looks over at me. He waits for me to add any details, but I have none. Jay makes me seem way cooler than I am. Flying the Berg nearly caused all of our deaths, almost to the degree of the landing.

"Lott did most of the work though, before he had a fit," Jay chuckles, scanning the room. He looks at me and Thomas, before glancing back down the hallway. "Where's Newt?"

I shrug. Thomas gets to his feet and offers me a hand. Tentatively, I take it. He pulls me off the ground. Jay ducks down the hallway, searching the bedrooms for Newt.

"What's wrong with Newt?" Thomas asks.

I press my lips tightly together. "Lott's outburst was bad."

I remember how white my knuckles were turning as I gripped the controls tighter and tighter, listening to the only guy who could safely fly the plane hit Minho in the face. I couldn't move to help, and every second I sat there felt like one I was bringing us closer and closer to death.

"Lott isn't like Newt," Thomas swallows, scanning me. "He's generally unstable.

I make my way to the bottom of the Berg. I open the hatch, walking outside. "Not that unstable."

We make our way around the Berg. This is the first time I've seen it's exterior. There are scorch marks along the back from where WICKED shot the metal. Thomas pauses, running his fingers along them, while I look around.