the glue

The hug was a wave of emotional warmth and comfort Thomas hadn’t even realised he’d needed, but he relaxed into it instantly. Now he’d found Newt, he could handle anything. They could find the others, together, and begin to figure this chaotic mess out. “Yeah, you too, buddy.” Of course, he couldn’t settle completely, as the fate of their friends was still unknown, but if two of them were okay, what was to say the rest weren’t? Thomas wasn’t ready to release the embrace yet, but Newt let go, so he pulled back and put his hand on Newt’s arm in return, mirroring the gesture. 

Distrust lined Newt’s features as he listened to his best friend speak about Scott. Safe? Free? He didn’t believe it for one second. It was too good to be true, and that was enough for Newt. He eyed the figure over Thomas’ shoulder again, wondering what his play was. Lure them in with a false sense of security, perhaps? Strike them when their guard was down? Newt nearly stopped listening, his mind overrun with suspicious thoughts. Immediately, Newt shook his head at the suggestion. Clothes and food didn’t mean they could trust him, or wherever this was. He listened patiently however, considering all the information before replying. He was going to explain to Thomas that he needed to know a lot more before he could follow Scott’s lead, but the boy continued. They were out of the Glade.

Thomas and Newt often spent most of their time together. The Gladers, he’d found, were the only ones who truly knew how difficult it was to adjust to ‘normality’. Watching television, playing games, having the freedom to explore and meet new people, it wasn’t an easy routine to settle into. But Newt understood that. So they often sat together, in Thomas’ new room in the Stilinski family home, staring absentmindedly at a movie until darkness fell.  Like clockwork, the sun began to set and the light dimmed in Thomas’ room. His stomach knotted, despite no longer living alone, he hated dusk. The nightmares often haunted him through morning, leaving him with pangs of jealousy for his twin who no longer had to force himself to sleep. Newt shifted beside him, taking it as his sign to leave. And for a second, Thomas planned to let him; that was their routine, after all. But the thought of facing another griever-chase alone, and a longing for the sanity and clarity that his best friend brought him, he placed a hand on Newt’s arm to stop him. He didn’t have to deal with this alone, he had people -- or rather someone -- who cared for him enough to stay. He hoped. “Newt? Stay here tonight?”

Newt wasn’t sure he could ever get used to this. Seeing as none of the Gladers could remember their former lives, this was completely new to them. Just as they’d learnt how to survive in the Glade, they were learning how to survive all over again in the real world. They’d wanted out of the Arena so badly, they hadn’t taken a moment to consider how different freedom would feel. Newt was used to working for hours in the sun, and now, he could sit still and watch a movie instead. His body always grew restless, but he stayed put, for Thomas’ sake. For all of their sakes. They just had to learn to adjust. And that would take time, Newt understood that. 

Thomas guessed that the hospital was full of kids just like him, but the eerie silence surrounding him suggested otherwise. Nighttime in… Alexandria, Scott had called it, was absent of the metal cries of the grievers, the screams of boys being trapped in their own nightmares. Perhaps that only applied inside these four walls, but Thomas couldn’t imagine being able to sleep in this town. Because he’d lie in a bed, a comfortable bed, waiting for an array of sickening noises that would never come. 

Newt lowered his arm only when he heard his friend’s voice, not entirely trusting his own eyes, nor whatever this place was. Considering the wires that had been sticking out of his arm earlier, he could even be hallucinating. But as Newt watched the boy come closer, saw the relief and desperation in Thomas’ gaze, he knew this couldn’t be fake.