memories
Warnings: death, crying, heartbreak, angst
Word count: 1000+
You and Thomas met long before the maze. In fact, you two were best friends, maybe even more before you got send into a maze. And as much as Thomas fought for you, as much as he protested and argued and screamed, WICKED always shut him down. So he had to settle on watching you through the cameras in your maze. Watch how you grew into yourself again, how you became stronger. And he protected you as much as he could. He made sure life was okay for you.
When he arrived in the maze, he didn't have any memories. Nothing but one thing. A name. Your name. And in the days he was there, before you were forced to escape, you both grew closer, again. But you didn't trust him. You learned to trust no one in a maze full of boys. Only one. Newt. Your new best friend. And when Thomas got stung by the grievers, when all his memories came back, his first thought was you. His Y/n. Oh how he missed you. But he didn't have the time to tell you how he felt or that he remembered. So you guys escaped, but you didn't stay by his side, no, you stayed with Newt. Even when Thomas tried to talk to you more, you stayed with Newt. And it hurt. It hurt him more than he was willing to admit.
So when you guys arrived at WICKED and he heard you would be alone in a room, he was worried. He knew it was because they didn't want you to be in a room full of boys, but that didn't make him worry any less. How could he just leave you? So he started sneaking out. Late at night, he'd sneak out of his room, Newt shooting him knowing looks if he was still awake, and silently slip into your room. And you'd be waiting. Because you knew. You may have not remembered him, but you had this feeling. The familiarity of his presence. So you let him. Let him slip under your covers. Let him whisper to you that he'd make sure you'd get out safe. That he'd protect you. But how could he protect you if you weren't immune? How could he protect you from a virus that spread through your body to your brain, turning you into a zombie-like creature? He couldn't.
So here you were, in front of the WICKED building. Attacking him, black blood coming out of your mouth as your pupils dialeted, the beautiful colour of your eyes nearly fully gone. As he tried to safe you, as he silently prayed to whatever God was above to be able to safe you from this cruel destiny, he couldn't help but just stand there. He didn't fight back, not even as you fully lost your mind, not when you pushed him to the floor and hovered over him, the blood dripping down onto him. No, he couldn't.He refused to. Because he still had hope. He had hope that Brenda would be fast enough, that if he did the injection on you, he not only would safe you, but give you your memories back. Oh what a beautiful wish. But oh how it hurt when Brenda didn't come, when you continue attacking him. And when you stabbed him in the side, he didn't even realise at first. But he quickly took the knife from you, tears in his eyes as he saw you, the Flare having completely taken over you. And when you stepped closer, he held the knife. He didn't want to. God, it would hurt him more than when you stabbed him, but he didn't have a choice anymore. Brenda was too late. And when your pupils got smaller for just a short moment and you begged him to kill you, to free you from your misery, he couldn't help but want to be selfish. How could he kill you? You. The girl he loves. How could he live with the guilt of promising you a safe haven and arriving there without you?
But then, your pupils dilated again and you lost control again. You attack, and this time, he stabbed the knife into your stomach, tears in his eyes as he slowly laid you on the floor. And you tried to attack him, still, even though you were dying. And just for a small second, your eyes changed to normal again. Tears clouded your eyes as you gasped for a breath. And as you slowly closed your eyes, you fought for one last sentence. One last breath, one last promise.
"I love you" you whispered, your breath softer now as you were slowly dying. And he sobbed. He sobbed above you, leaning over your body as he cried and cried, even when you took your final breath and your heart beat stopped. Even when he closed your eyes. Even when your body started to go cold. He cried, he held onto your body, his sobs heartbreaking as Brenda finally appeared. And when she saw she was too late, tears came to her eyes too.
This was her fault after all, wasn't it? It was her that was too slow. Her who couldn't be quicker. Because if she had been, she could have saved you. So she stood behind Thomas, crying silently as he sobbed loudly, his crying not stopping. And even when the rest of the boys came, when they saw your dead body laying there, and Thomas, your first, and last, love, sobbing over you, they cried too. Newt stepped forward, and tried to get Thomas to let go of your now cold body, to take him to safety, but Thomas refused to. He failed you. He promised he'd get you to safety, to get you a good life. And he failed. You died in his arms, from his knife, because of him.
After what felt like hours, the tears slowly stopped. And as Newt pulled him back, he didn't fight it anymore. He felt numb. He lost you. You were gone. And the only thing he had were memories. Not even a picture. Only memories. So when Newt pulled him up from the ground and gently pulled him with him, away from your body, he followed, his thoughts occupied with every memory he still had of you.
You are gone. And it's his fault.
