Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Individual chapters will be available for download or streaming at the top of each entry: CHAPTER 1. Duration: 00:22:58, 16.3 MB.

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Chapter 1.

People cheer as Ava Paige, Doctor in Biology, former politician and the Last Chancellor of the now-defunct WCKD is executed for Crimes Against Humanity: including Unethical Medical Practices, Fraud, Child Endangerment, Child Abuse, Torture, Kidnapping, Aiding and Abetting as well as being directly responsible for an endless list of Murders. 

“So, it’s over then?” A male voice says thoughtfully. 

“For now, at least,” the woman sitting across the table from him says thoughtfully. 

They’re Vince and Mary Cooper, the leaders of the Right Arm, the organization that took it upon themselves to oppose WCKD, to fight them and eventually take them down. It hasn’t been easy, it’s taken years; blood, tears, and even lives lost along the way, but they believe it to have been worth it (it must be worth it, otherwise, what was the point?). 

“The trials of several high-ranking officers are still in progress,” Mary points out as she looks through some papers. “Including Ava’s protégé.” 

“At least Janson is dead,” Vince mutters angrily. “He was a loose cannon. God only knows how much worse things might have been if he hadn’t had that accident…” 

“It almost doesn’t seem fair, you know?” Jorge, the former WCKD pilot, turned high-ranking Right Arm member, speaks up from his position in a corner of the room. “I mean, el desgraciado killed how many of our own? He almost killed Brenda! And to be able to just die like that, of an accident? He never got to pay for his crimes. How is that justice?” 

“It might not be what we’d have preferred, Jorge,” Mary agrees. “But like Vince said, there’s no way of knowing how much worse things might have been, had he been around when we took the Last City. He certainly wouldn’t have surrendered quietly. Do you honestly believe that the lives lost then would have been worth the satisfaction of killing him ourselves?” 

No, it wouldn’t have been, and Jorge knows that. Doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. 

Silence lasts for just a few seconds, before the door opens unexpectedly, and a young woman with hazel eyes and blonde hair in a fishtail braid bursts into the room. She blinks a few times when seeing all three adults, clearly not having expected all of them. 

“Sonya…?” Mary asks, curious about what brought the girl to them. 

“Oh right, we have a bit of an issue,” Sonya announces looking, not worried, but certainly at a loss. 

“What kind of issue?” Vince asks, tensing immediately. 

“Harriet called,” Sonya explains. “Agnes is asking to speak with someone of high rank. She wants to make a deal.” 

“A deal?” Vince scoffs. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Jorge snaps. “She’s guilty. They all are!” 

“We know that,” Mary assures him. “Though I am curious as to what she might think she can offer in exchange for… well, anything.” 

“You won’t make a deal with her, will you?” Jorge asks, hating the idea. 

“I don’t see what she could possibly offer,” Vince shrugs. “WCKD is gone. Janson is dead. And every other high-ranking member of the organization is accounted for. Paige is dead, and everyone else who was in her Council will follow. The scientists and soldiers probably won’t get the death penalty, but most will probably be spending the rest of their lives in prison. Only those who switched sides early enough to actually be of aid to us stand a chance at getting out any time soon, and even then…” 

Even then, no one would be avoiding prison. And certainly not someone like Teresa Agnes! 

“She said she has information you’ll want,” Sonya explains. “On…” she looks down at a piece of paper where she wrote the details, as if to confirm things. “On someone called… Stephen?” 

Mary and Vince’s expressions change so abruptly, both of them growing pale, tears forming in Mary’s eyes. Sonya can only wonder, who is Stephen? 

xXx

Newt is well aware of how lucky he is. 

Waking up in a metal and concrete box with nothing but his own name could have been the end of it all. Instead, it was the beginning. 

He became a Glader. Part of that community of boys who would grow up to be men. He was one of the first to run the Maze, and the first Keeper of the Runners. Then… 

There was a dark period in his life. A time during which the holes in his memory felt like they were too big, like what he couldn’t remember mattered more than what he did. There was an emptiness inside him, like he was missing something so important and the absence of it was only made worse by the fact that he didn’t even know what it was he was missing. For a while there he thought there was no way he could possibly live like that. Things got bad enough inside his head he tried to end it all. 

Thankfully, Newt had good friends. Wonderful friends. Also, according to said friends he must have had an angel or something watching out for him, for how else could they explain Minho even finding out that Newt needed help? 

The hole in his mind, in his heart, never really vanished, but Newt at least learned to live with it. He did his best to move on, to keep himself busy so the dark thoughts wouldn’t have a chance to take over. 

And then came the day when everything changed. 

It was the day before the Box came and Newt had been going around, listening to the Keepers list all the things they were out of and the things they needed. It’s not like Newt could submit a list to the Creators, or whoever else sent the supplies that arrived in the Box with their monthly Greenie, but for some reason the Keepers still seemed to want to tell him all about the things missing. And since someone got it into their heads that being Second-in-Command meant he had to listen to all those shanks complain… At least it was something to do, he supposed. 

They never made it to that point, however. For right as night was falling; when the last of the Runners had made it back to the Glade, but the Doors hadn’t closed yet, a new sound broke the quiet. 

The sound, they would eventually learn, was that of rotors, the noisiest part of a berg. And a berg was precisely what descended upon the Glade that day. 

That was the day the Gladers met the Right Arm, who rescued them from the Maze, and from WCKD. 

It wasn’t all perfect, and lives were lost when the Creators became aware of what was going on. They sent the Grievers into the Glade after the Gladers and their rescuers, but even though Newt and the rest of the Gladers would forever mourn the many lives lost that day, both of their brothers and the people who bravely went in to rescue them (most of whose names they’d never know), they would never not be grateful for making it out of there. 

A lot changed after they left the Glade. As much as the Right Arm wanted (needed, even) soldiers, they refused to let any of the Gladers feel like they had to join the fight. Like they owed it to the Right Arm because they’d rescued them. In the end the Gladers split into two groups: Alby, wanting nothing more than to rest, to be at peace, to be safe, lead those who had no interest in fighting as they joined the growing community at an island in the north, which most called simply the Safe Haven. Newt became the leader of those able and willing to fight. 

Even when his limp could make things harder at times, especially if he stepped wrong at one point; he was a hell of a fighter, and both Vince and Mary valued his strategic thinking and the way he was able to keep calm even in the most insane situations. 

It was that which led to Newt being one of those leading the charge the day they took the Last City. The day WCKD’s rule came to an end once and for all. 

And now they’re asking him to take on another mission for them. A very different kind of mission: 

“Who is this Teresa Agnes and why are we even considering making any sort of deal with her?” the blonde asks straight out. 

A file is handed to him even as Mary starts talking. 

The top page of the file shows the picture of a young woman, blue eyes, brunette, Newt might even call her pretty. Not like he’s attracted to her or anything, she really isn’t his type. What strikes him most is that she looks like she can be no older than him, and he knows for a fact the picture is recent, taken upon Agnes’ arrest. 

“Teresa Agnes is an Immune, one of the Favorites, as they’re often called,” she explains. “She’s also Ava Paige’s protégé and was slated to be the next Head of WCKD’s Science Department, and perhaps even the next Chancellor of WCKD, once Ava retired.” 

Ava Paige’s heiress?! And they’re thinking about making a deal with her?! Why?!?!?! 

Then Newt sees something else: 

“She was in charge of harvesting the immunes?!” Newt feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“For the last year or so, it’d seem,” Mary nods. 

“Why exactly are you even considering making a deal with this bitch?” Newt demands. 

Because he can still remember seeing those few immunes they managed to rescue who were subjected to the torture that WCKD called ‘harvesting’. And what’s more, he can remember all the ones they didn’t get to in time… 

“She claims to have information on Stephen,” Mary announces. 

“Stephen?” Newt repeats, not getting it. “Who’s that?” 

“He was… he was our Source, inside WCKD,” Mary explains quietly. “Everything the Right Arm has achieved over the last couple of years. The fact that we managed to defeat WCKD at all, we owe in no small part to Stephen.” 

“And you’re hoping to… what?” Newt wants some clarification. “Rescue him?” 

“No, I…” Mary hesitates, clearly at a loss how to explain. 

“Stephen is dead,” Vince is the one to speak up then, blunt as ever. “WCKD discovered he’d been passing information on to us. They tortured him and eventually killed him.” 

“Then… then what…?” Newt just doesn’t understand. 

“I want to know what WCKD did with him!” Mary finally snaps. “He deserves to be more than just a forgotten corpse in a hole somewhere. He deserves so much more than WCKD ever gave him… so much more than we ever gave him.” 

Newt turns to look at Vince, hoping he’ll be able to explain what’s going on. 

“You know, from the moment we first created the Right Arm, we always intended to do all we could against WCKD.” When Vince talks there’s almost a… detachment from him, and Newt cannot help but notice that the older man won’t look at him.

 “We did our best to rescue immunes before WCKD could get their hands on them, and followed any and all rumors we could regarding their facilities. We had deals with a number of people to help us save those kids; which seemed to be working fine… at least until WCKD found them and made them a better offer. In the end, we weren’t managing much. It was like WCKD got immunes faster than we could rescue them. Also, the location of their facilities, especially the ones where they were holding their Trials, were so top-secret even Mary, who once worked for them, had no idea where they might be.” Vince shakes his head. “So, all in all, we had the best of intentions, but very little to show for it.” 

Which makes Newt wonder, how then did the Gladers get rescued? And all the others? And not even just the Mazes they rescued, but all the other raids on WCKD facilities the Right Arm has been doing the past year. How…? 

“And then Stephen came into the picture,” Vince goes on. “There were a few false starts. We didn’t know who we could trust, and there was always the chance that things could be a trap. Eventually, Mary agreed to hear him out, and we set up a time for a radio conversation.” 

“Over the radio?” Newt is surprised by that. 

“Yeah, it’s one of the reasons I was so, so doubtful about it all,” Vince admits. “I mean, if the guy couldn’t even meet us in person… He explained it eventually. How he worked in one of WCKD’s top facilities, in the one that held one of the Mazes, in fact, and he couldn’t leave…” 

That, Newt has to admit, he did not see coming. 

“How many times did you communicate with this Stephen?” the blonde wants to know. 

“Not many,” Vince admits. “Even with the communications being as secure as we could make them, there was always the risk.” 

“The first time we spoke, he said he couldn’t take it anymore, watching his friends die, one by one.” Mary murmurs in a low, almost haunted tone. “The last time we spoke, he gave us the coordinates of every WICKED compound, trial and lab.” 

“Oh…” Newt’s jaw drops as he processes the implications: the fact that he and all of his friends owe their lives and freedom to this guy. “What happened to him?” 

“He was made,” Vince states, clearly trying hard to keep his voice even. “Or so we’ve always believed. He said it too. During that last talk. He told us that he thought he’d been made and… 

“We left him there!” Mary snaps abruptly, unexpectedly. “He was scared half out of his mind, feared for his own life, and still he gave us everything he could, so we could make things right. And we left him there! We didn’t… we didn’t…” 

“You didn’t even try to get him out?” Newt asks in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have the kind of resources needed to storm one of WCKD’s top facilities, not back then,” Vince tries his best to explain. “Even now, even with what we did in the Last City, the only reason we could do as much as we did is because someone inside literally opened the doors for us! The greatest security measures were inactive at the time we took WCKD Tower, and once Lawrence and his own army started shooting up the place…” 

“But you went after the Mazes…” Newt murmurs. 

“And that was hard enough, many lives were lost in the process,” Vince reminds him. “But we believed it to be worth it, to save children’s lives…” 

And one man wasn’t worth it? 

“We should have gone after him anyway,” Mary says quietly. “Should have at least tried! Instead, we abandoned him. We basically told him he was worth less to us…” 

“So, to summarize,” Newt clears his throat a bit. “Teresa Agnes has information on this Stephen. What is it she wants in exchange for it?” 

“Mercy,” Vince states. “Apparently, though, not for herself but for another.” 

As he says that, Vince passes Newt another file. 

The top page reads ‘Thomas’, the surname blacked out for some reason. Underneath the name there’s a picture of a guy, maybe Newt’s age, maybe a year younger, with messy chestnut brown hair and eyes that look like they might be amber or whiskey, or something along those lines. What strikes Newt most is that… he knows that guy, he does! He just cannot remember how, or where from, exactly… 

“Thomas, second name unknown,” Vince states. “The last of the Favorites, though apparently he fell out of favor sometime in the last year or two. A gifted programmer, rumor has it he might have been involved with the Maze Trials in some capacity.” 

“How do you guess that?” Newt inquires, taking a quick look through the file. 

There are more pictures, several charts and graphs detailing things way above Newt’s pay grade. 

“He was posted to Maze A, your Maze, for years,” Vince explains. “Same as Teresa Agnes. The two were transferred to the Last City very suddenly a year or so ago.” 

“A year or so ago?” Newt blurts out before he can even think about it. “You mean, around the time you guys rescued us?” 

That seems to give Vince pause. Even Mary looks more than a little surprised by that. 

Newt reaches the last page of the file and what he reads shocks him. 

“He’s a Volunteer?” he asks, so very, very quietly. 

The Volunteers are those immunes who, of their own free will, have chosen to become donors in order to create serum for those who might need it. 

While the Right Arm might refuse to utilize WCKD’s barbaric methods, Mary and several other doctors working together have found a way to create a serum, extracting the needed enzymes from the blood of a Volunteer much like one would extract plasma, or red blood cells. 

This is of particular importance to Newt because he’s not immune. What’s more, he became infected with the Flare, while they were in the Outer City, preparing for their final assault on WCKD. They hadn’t been aware of it at the time, but the Flare mutated (again) and went airborne. Newt was far from the only one to become infected then. 

There were several who died that night, during the fight itself; while others, because of how fast the Flare can act when the infected one is in a heightened state of emotion, went past the Gone much too fast for there to be any hope for them. Newt came very close to that point himself. It was only Minho’s refusal to give up on him, his insistence that all avenues were explored. And then… then Mary arrived with a dose of serum. He was the first to receive one that night. It’s probably the only reason why he’s still alive… and not a Crank. 

Thinking about that, about how he’s only alive because of a Volunteer himself… and not just him. Brenda as well, and Miyoko, and so many others… 

“I’ll talk to Agnes,” he announces. 

Really, it’s the least he can do. And maybe in the process he’ll be able to find out why this Thomas looks so bloody familiar… 

Chapter Text

Also available for download or streaming here: CHAPTER 2. Duration: 00:29:10, 20.0 MB. Enjoy!

Comments are love! <3

Chapter 2.

From the start, Agnes’ interview doesn’t go at all how Newt planned.

“I need to know, is Cheyenne alright?”

Newt hasn’t even sat down yet, a couple of files in hand, and Teresa Agnes is sitting on her own chair, on the other side of the table.

“Cheyenne…?” Newt repeats, confused. “Who is Cheyenne?”

“Ah… young girl?” Teresa offers, somewhat hesitant. “About twelve, she was… she was at WCKD Tower the night of the attack?”

“If she’s one of the immunes then…” Newt begins.

“She’s not,” Teresa cuts him off, then clarifies. “She’s not an immune.”

“Well, either way, if she’s a child, and she wasn’t involved in the fighting,” in fighting for WCKD, they both know is what he really means. “Then she should be safe. Cannot say I know anyone by that name, but then again, I’m more involved in the fighting WCKD than relocating the survivors.”

“I… see…” Teresa murmurs, thoughtfully. “Could you… if you find out about her could you… could you let me know? I just wanna know if she’s alright. If she’s safe…”

“Why are you so interested in this girl?” Newt cannot help but ask. “I thought you WCKD scientists only cared about torturing immunes…”

“I wasn’t torturing anyone!” Teresa snaps.

“Weren’t you?” Newt challenges. “I know what your so-called harvesting involved. Paralyzing immunes, injecting them with a serum that would force them to live through their worst fears, all while extracting something from the base of their brains. If that’s not torture, I don’t know what is…”

“They were unconscious, they never felt a thing!”

“Oh, so your actions are alright simply because your subjects weren’t screaming?”

“We were trying to find a Cure for the Flare. It’s not something easy to do and sometimes… sometimes sacrifices need to be made…”

“Is that what you tell yourself about the dozens, hundreds that WCKD has killed? The deaths you yourself have been responsible for?”

“All I wanted was to find a Cure…”

For a moment, Newt wonders why he’s even here. Then he remembers: the deal, Thomas, Stephen. Newt has a job to do.

“Now, getting down to business,” the blonde announces. “My name is Newt, and I’m here on behalf of the Right Arm.”

“Newt…?” Teresa repeats, looking straight at him. “You’re A5, from Maze A.”

“My name is Newt,” he repeats, tone forceful.

He refuses to contemplate the reason why she’s looking at him like she is. As if he’s some puzzle she’s trying very hard to solve… 

There’s something almost… tickling in the back of his head. Like an itch of some sort. A memory that is there, but he just hasn’t been able, or needed, to access yet. 

“You sent a message that you were interested in making a deal,” he states, in a very serious tone. “So why don’t you tell me what it is you want, exactly, and what you think you have that is worth us giving anything at all to you?”

For a moment it looks like Teresa might try to insist on the previous topic of conversation, either of them, but in the end she doesn’t.

“As for what I have to offer,” Teresa states solemnly. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

Newt hesitates, just for a moment, before passing her his own notepad and the small pen he carries. She doesn’t hesitate before writing down a few things.

“You will need to access a WCKD computer,” Teresa explains. “Or at least one from which you can get access to their systems. This is my  username, and passcode.” She starts pointing at the different lines she wrote down. “If you follow the path I’ve marked here, you’ll gain access to a secret subdirectory. It has everything I could get on… on Stephen…”

There’s something about the way she says the name, it makes Newt wonder.

“Did you know him?” he asks her.

“Not as well as I thought I did,” she admits softly.

“Okay, so this is what you can give us,” Newt nods as he tears the page off the notepad, folding it carefully and slipping it into a pocket of his shirt. “Now, what is it that you believe you can get from giving us this?”

“I’m not asking for myself,” she states evenly. “I know… I know most people will never understand why I’ve done the things I’ve done. I… Do you remember your mother, Newt?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Newt demands, thrown by her unexpected question.

“I remember mine,” Teresa explains. “She was a beautiful woman. Everybody loved her. And before WCKD, she was all I had. When she got sick, I didn't know what to do. I just kept her locked up. Hidden. I thought she’d get better.” She pauses, closing her eyes tightly, just for a moment. “Every night, she’d make these awful sounds, like screaming. And then, one night, she just stopped. She was finally quiet. I went down to her room. And there was blood everywhere. But she was just sat there, calm. She said she was feeling better. The visions were gone. She’d taken care of them. She took her eyes out, Newt.”

Newt has to admit, that’s one horrifying story. Must have been pretty traumatic. He can only wonder how young Teresa might have been at the time.

And yet, that doesn’t change their current situation.

“There are millions of people suffering out there,” Teresa continues. “Millions of stories, just like mine. We couldn’t turn our backs on them. WCKD was working for a Cure. One that would save everyone who didn’t have the means to survive this virus on their own.”

“Yeah, and at what cost?” Newt challenges. “How many lives did WCKD, did you, destroy in this search for this wonderful Cure? And it doesn’t even exist! There is no Cure. The best WCKD was ever able to create was the serum, and our side at least doesn’t torture the Volunteers who help create it.”

For a moment, it looks like Teresa might try to argue with Newt, but then she thinks better of it.

“Like I said, I know most people will never understand,” she says simply. “But you’re not here for me. I know that I’ve done bad things. Don’t think I don’t. Even if I might still believe my choices were justified, that they were necessary under the circumstances… I’ve always known not everyone would agree with me, and that one day I’d have to pay for my crimes.” She makes a pause, breathing deeply. “Thomas… he’s not like me. I know there are many who will paint with him the same brush, who will only ever see him as the Favorite, as Ava’s chosen successor…”

Newt almost chokes on air at that. Ava’s successor…?! Wasn’t Agnes supposed to be that?!

“Ah… you were not aware,” Teresa realizes.

“I was told you were the heiress,” Newt points out.

“I was, but only after Tom fell from grace,” she admits. “For a long time he was Ava’s favorite: clever, determined, charismatic, and immune as well. Everything she needed, everything WCKD needed in a future leader. Until Tom decided that he no longer agreed with WCKD’s goals and methods… He turned on us.”

“He betrayed WCKD…?” Newt seeks to confirm.

“Yes,” Teresa nods. “I… didn’t understand it then. I still don’t.”

“Why isn’t he dead?” The blonde blurts out.

“Like I said before, he was Ava’s favorite,” Teresa shrugs. “I think… I think she honestly believed that it was just a matter of him losing his objectivity.”

“Losing his… what? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You might not remember this, but when we were children… we were all together. For the first few years we’d be tutored, had to do all sorts of evaluations and we got lots of medical tests done. In time, we were split into groups, those most promising, and the rest. You Newt, you made it pretty far, to the top six, I think. The final four of us became the Elites. The rest of you called us the Favorites. We began undergoing training to one day hopefully take over WCKD. While the rest…”

“While the rest of us were sent into the Mazes.”

Newt can see it, is the thing. As Teresa talks, he can see it, like fragments of memories taking shape in the back of his mind. He’d think it’s just his imagination running wild except that the boys (and girl) that he sees are ones he doesn’t recognize; except for how he instinctively knows them to be younger versions of the Gladers, as well as Teresa, and Thomas… 

Newt’s memories are a mess, they have been ever since he got infected. He got far along enough that night that the Flare managed to… eat away at the Swipe WCKD had done on him, the block to his memories from before the Maze. However, he didn’t just remember everything. The memories are there, somewhere in his head now, but he still needs to access them. Needs a reason to reach for them. Like being told that he knew someone… Like seeing a young man’s picture and being sure he’s seen those eyes before… 

“Yes, but not immediately.” Teresa continues with her story. “Several of you made a habit of sneaking around at night. You… you came to us, but especially to Tom. I didn’t much care for it, for any of you, but Tom did. He considered you his friends. And when you went into the Maze…” She looks away from Newt. “He was tasked with monitoring things in the Maze, since he was a programmer. So he often had eyes on all of you.”

Newt’s eyes narrow, he suspects where it’s all going, and he suspects he’s not going to like it.

He’s right, of course.

“When you jumped,” Teresa says, somewhat bluntly. “I think something broke in Tom, then. He went to me, told me he couldn’t do it anymore.  At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant. Though it became obvious eventually.”

“So he betrayed WCKD,” Newt seeks to confirm. “And yet they didn’t kill him? Even when they killed others, for that very reason?”

“Janson really wanted to,” Teresa admits. “But like I said, he was Ava’s favorite. And she honestly believed that all that was necessary was for him to go back to who he used to be, before…”

“Before he met me? Met us?” Newt inquires. “But how?” It hits him then. “No…”

“They put him through the Swipe,” Teresa confirms. “Then they transferred both of us to the Last City. Ava believed that putting distance between him and you all, and with me close at hand… she thought everything would be alright.”

“It wasn’t,” the blonde doesn’t even need her to confirm that one. “What happened then?”

“Tom became… despondent, depressed,” Teresa tells him. “I tried to help him, but I just didn’t understand… and I had work of my own. I even tried to get him involved in my own work. Since Ava was making sure not to involve him in anything connected to the Mazes.”

“So you… what? You got him involved in harvesting immunes?” Newt asks in disbelief.

“Of course not!” Teresa snaps. “I knew better than that. Like I said, Tom has always been very charismatic. I got him to go with me when I was seeing our patients.”

Patients? Right, Newt remembers then, like that girl she asked after when he first arrived, Cheyenne.

“He’d talk to them, help keep them calm, he was so good with them…” Teresa murmurs, eyes closed as she thinks back on those memories. “And then we started losing them… one by one. No matter what we did, all the attempts we made, the variations to the serum… nothing was ever enough. One by one they’d eventually all get past the Gone, and then they had to be put down. It hurt Thomas so much… when Cheyenne started getting really bad, he got desperate.”

Newt cannot even imagine. Though he does have to wonder at the woman who’d already seen him go out of his mind over a bunch of other boys, and then she chose to put him in such a situation… again.

“He drew his own blood, told me to make a dose of serum out of it,” Teresa continues with her story. “I told him he was nuts, of course. That was not how it was done! But I think he just…”

“He needed to do something,” Newt blurts out.

“Yeah,” Teresa confirms.

Newt fists his hands under the table, carefully out of Teresa’s sight. He can see it, so very clearly, and he honestly doesn’t understand how the woman on the other side of the table from him failed to. It’s… she was Thomas’ fiancée, wasn’t she? She was supposed to know him better than anyone; yet it’s becoming painfully clear that she didn’t know him at all, probably no one did.

“What happened then?” he asks then.

“I did my best to comply with his demand,” Teresa admits quietly. “Filtered the blood, made the serum, and gave it to Cheyenne. Then I took Tom back to our apartment and made sure he would be staying home the next day.”

So when the serum failed, the girl went full Crank and had to be put down, Thomas wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t have to see it…

“I thought I knew what I’d find upon arriving at the Tower,” Teresa murmurs thoughtfully. “I had no idea. Cheyenne was alright. Not only had the Flare stopped advancing, it seemed to be regressing. It was more than anything we’d seen before with any serum. It was, simply put, a miracle.”

Newt's eyes narrow, why does she make that sound like a bad thing?

“WCKD didn’t even know that the serum could be created like that,” Teresa explains, then revises. “No, it’s more like, they were convinced the only way was through the harvesting. When I told them I’d done it differently, just to experiment. It was opening a whole new world of possibilities. We started taking blood from the other immunes and filtering it to create doses of the serum. And yet, none worked as well as what I’d given Cheyenne.”

Which meant… what? Newt isn’t sure he wants to know.

“Most of the doctors thought that maybe I’d done something different, made some kind of mistake in the process that ended up being a good thing,” Teresa shrugs. “Ava believed that it was maybe something in Cheyenne herself, in her own blood, that interacted with my version of the serum, and which brought about such good results. So we started testing her. It soon became obvious that not only was she no longer sick, but she was as good as immune herself. Her brain wasn’t producing enough enzyme to register as an immune, yet the enzymes were in her blood nonetheless. She was safe. There were attempts to create serum from her blood, but they all failed. In the end, Janson said that maybe more… exhaustive tests were required…”

More exhaustive… no, she couldn’t possibly mean…

“Was it a sick joke?” Newt demands abruptly as he rushes to his feet.

“What?” Teresa looks honestly taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You asking after that girl, after you decided to kill her?!” Newt yells.

“After I…” Teresa pales as she processes what he just said. “No! I’d never! I didn’t kill Cheyenne!”

“Well, maybe not you—” Newt begins.

“No one killed her!” Teresa cuts him off. “I… Ava told Janson to not be hasty. That we needed to consider all possibilities…”

“You had to know a bastard like Janson wouldn’t wait,” Newt presses.

“I knew,” she agrees. “So I went looking for Tom. I… I told him everything. And he promised he’d make it right. That he’d keep Cheyenne safe. And he did.”

It hits Newt then.

“He killed Janson,” the blonde mumbles as he drops back into his chair.

“He did,” Teresa confirms.

“The official records state it was an accident,” Newt points out, unable to help himself. “A malfunction in one of the labs or something…”

“Janson went into that lab, intent on killing Cheyenne, thinking she was there, but she wasn’t.” Teresa states with an eerie calm. “Tom locked him in, then extracted all the oxygen from that lab. Then he made it seem like there had been a malfunction in the program, or that Janson activated the clean-up protocol accidentally. I think” she pauses. “I think Ava suspected but…”

He was her favorite. Still.

“And then, as you know, the Last City was attacked,” Teresa concludes.

Newt takes a minute to consider everything Teresa has just said and the implications of it.

“If all of this is true,” he says eventually. “Why didn’t it come up in his trial?”

Because he knows Thomas’ trial already took place. Due to his loss in rank, he wasn’t considered as important, so it happened along with those of so many others. He was sentenced to a long prison sentence, though for the most part he would be spending those years in a place that, while not exactly homey, wasn’t so bad. He even had certain allowances, like access to books and time spent in gardens and such, due to being a Volunteer.

“Tom would have never spoken up for himself,” Teresa shakes her head. “He… Like I said before, I might believe my actions to be justified. But that doesn’t mean I’m unaware that the things I did… that most people won’t see them as good. Tom… he’s already found himself guilty and even if he’s responsible for a lot less than some of us, he would never try to argue that he was any better than us. He… he deserves better than that. Better than us.”

Newt has to agree with that one. And it’s not just the things Agnes, the things Teresa has said. But the things he’s starting to remember. 

“I cannot promise what will come of it,” Newt says eventually as he gathers his things and stands up. “But for what it might be worth, I will put in a good word for him, with the leadership.”

“Thank you, Newt,” Teresa actually smiles at him, softly, almost sadly. “It’s almost funny, you know, how the world works.”

Newt just arches a brow, looking at her because, what is that supposed to mean?

“Everything Tom did, he did it because of you,” Teresa tells him quietly. “Because he couldn’t stand the thought of you actually dying… next time. And now, now his own life, his future, is in your hands. Funny how that works…”

xXx

It’s not hard. Getting access to a computer from which he can access the WCKD system. Even with the precautions the technicians insist Newt take, just in case it’s all a trap. Just in case Teresa is trying to use him to do… something (he doesn’t even know what she could possibly be trying to do, it’s not like it would change a thing, not for her, and it’d only affect Thomas’ chances, whom she seems to actually want to help for some reason). So Newt gets access to a computer, where he inputs Teresa’s username and passcode. Then he follows the route she wrote down for him, eventually finding a subdirectory buried so deeply in others that it’s clear she did her best to make sure others wouldn’t find it…

What he finds there is a trove of information the likes of which he could have never imagined. And yet at the same time most of it isn’t exactly new. The biggest file has a list of what looks like they might be every single WCKD location on the planet, with coordinates, a brief explanation of what the place was about (Mazes, laboratories, warehouses, harvesting facilities, offices, etcetera), one or two names of those in charge; the numbers and the kind of people who could be expected to be at those places (guards, scientists, whether they were loyal to WCKD, sympathetic to the Right Arm, and anything else). Finally, the last column has a list of dates. Dates which, Newt eventually realizes, are when the Right Arm raided each of those locations.

It’s made clear then. That is the information Stephen gave Mary and Vince before being found out.

There’s a lot more stuff in that subdirectory. Some is pretty sobering: files on every ‘subject’ who died, either during or before the Maze Trials. Some names Newt knows well (George, Nick, Dmitri…) so many more he’s never heard of (Rafael, Miguel, Frida, Edith, Grace, Han, Patia, Pierre…). Each file includes pictures, information of the person (the child) in question, and eventually how they died. It includes all those that died during the raids themselves.

It’s the last file that gives Newt pause. It’s a video file, tagged as ‘Interrogation’. It’s… Newt is not a fool, he has an idea what to expect long before he opens the file. It somehow still hits him with the force of a sledgehammer:

The questions, the refusals, the demands for answers, the continued denials. Hollow sounds, the kind that are made by the strike of skin on skin, of a closed fist against tender spots on the body…

It gets worse. The voices get louder, the denials turn into extended silences, the hollow thuds turn into… more.

Then come the screams.

Newt has heard people scream before. So many times. His nightmares are filled with screams: of Cranks, of soldiers and civilians falling in a battlefield, of good men and women finding out their someone they loved is gone and never coming back… he remembers Alby screaming at him after he almost killed himself, yelling at Newt for giving up, for trying to leave him, because how could Alby possibly do it, possibly be the Glade’s leader without Newt? (Minho hadn’t yelled, he just looked at Newt with so much sadness… then picked the blonde up, got him back to the Glade, and refused to let him out of his sight for a very long time).

Newt thinks back to Teresa’s question, regarding whether he remembered his mom; wonders what she’d have to say, what excuse she’d try and feed him, if he were to tell her what exactly he remembers of his mom. The fact that WCKD killed her, killed both of his parents, just so they could take his little sister and use her in their Trials. Would Teresa change the way she looked at things? Or is she only allowed to mourn her mom because she died of the Flare, while Newt’s doesn’t matter because she was in the way of what WCKD wanted?

Sounds are bad enough, though for most of the duration of the video the camera seems to be at an angle where it doesn’t really pick up any images clearly. And then something happens, the camera gets knocked around, and everything changes. First there is Janson. On screen for several seconds as he clearly picks the camera up before setting it down somewhere, not the same place where it was before. And then… once he walks aside, the camera picks up the image of the other person in the room:

He looks like hell. Bloody and bruised. There’s a cut over his eye, the same one that looks practically black and swollen shut. He also has a split lip, and when he opens his mouth in a feral half-grin, one cannot miss the blood staining his teeth. And yet there’s still something about him, his smile, the glint in his still-open eye. He hasn’t given up. He never will.

Newt… he can just watch the image, throat dry with horror even as he fights against the tears wanting to form in his eyes.

“You will never find them Janson. Never.”

“You could die here. Abandoned. Alone. And they would never know. They don’t even know your name! Was it worth it?”

“Yes. Always.”

Janson’s form blocks the image again. There’s a thud, followed by the clatter of a chair and the body on it falling down, a pained grunt. And then the video cuts to black.

Tears are falling down Newt’s cheeks before he’s even fully aware of it.

This… He should have seen it coming. In fact, he’s pretty sure a part of him did. He just… he didn’t want to believe it. And yet there it is, staring him in the face. 

“Oh, Tommy…”

Chapter Text

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Chapter 3.

When Newt finishes with his report, Mary stares at the paused video in front of her for the longest time. Like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

“Are you sure about this?” Vince asks Newt.

“Completely,” Newt nods, serious.

“How do you even know it’s the same guy, hermano ?” Jorge wants to know. “I mean, he doesn’t even have the same name!”

“You do remember that he was with WCKD, yes?” Newt inquires. “They take everything from us. Starting with our own names…”

“So your real name isn’t Newt?” Jorge wants to confirm. “What is it, then? And why do you still go by Newt if it isn’t your name?”

“I am Newt because that’s who I’ve been for most of my life, almost as long as I can remember,” the blonde says with a shrug. “The name my parents gave me is something that few people know, and even less care for.”

“And you think that, what?” Vince steps in again. “That this Thomas, that he was also Stephen? That Stephen was his real name or something?”

“I know it was,” Newt states quietly. “And it makes sense, if you think about it. He had to give you a name that meant something. But one that, if WCKD were to see it, or hear it used, in relation to the Right Arm, wouldn’t immediately point back to him.”

“And yet they still found him,” Vince still sounds dubious.

“They did,” Newt agrees. “But how much did he manage to give you before that happened?”

“Everything,” Mary finally speaks up. “He gave us everything.” She swallows. “I want to see him.”

“Mary…” Vince begins, hesitant.

“He won’t remember,” Newt warns her. “Teresa told me as much. And the records I found in the secret subdirectory confirmed it. After three days of failed interrogations…”

“Torture,” Jorge murmurs, sotto voce.

“Ava ordered that Thomas be Swiped and transferred to the Last City, along with Teresa,” Newt explains. “It just happens that you liberated our Maze precisely the next day. When he recovered from the Swipe, he was told that he’d been hurt during the Right Arm’s attack on the facility. Don’t know if he thought that a blow to the head affected his memory, or if perhaps they told him that whatever treatment he required was what took away his memories, but whichever the case, I suppose there was some pretty damning evidence…”

Like the damage done to Maze A, the destroyed Grievers, the bodies of the dead, and of course all the missing Gladers. 

“I want to see him,” Mary says again.

The three men turn to look at each other, none of them wanting to have to be the one to tell Mary how bad an idea that is… again. And then someone else does.

“That’s a bad idea,” a female voice states in a very no-nonsense tone.

Kokoro is a woman in her late twenties to early thirties, of Japanese descent, petite, with alabaster skin despite living in the Scorch and eyes the same shade of brown as the coffee beans. She usually wears practical jeans and a tank-top underneath an open yukata, one of the few things she still has from her old life, from before the world became hell. She’s a scientist, one of the few in the Right Arm who was never involved with WCKD (in her own words: ‘they could have never afforded her’). She’s present at the moment because of her experience both as a neurologist and with psychology. 

“If Mr. Thomas underwent the Swipe at least fourteen months ago,” Kokoro states. “And it hasn’t yet begun to break down, despite him being aware of it”

“What makes you think he’s aware of it?” Jorge asks, intrigued by her assumption.

“Well, on the most basic level, any person with even a modicum level of intelligence can tell when their mind has been tampered with,” Kokoro points out. “And from what I understand, Mr. Thomas is something of a genius, correct?”

“Correct,” Newt nods.

“Then he would certainly be aware of the holes in his memories, to call them something,” Kokoro explains. “Considering where he worked, and for who, it’d surprise me if he were not fully aware of what was done to him. Even if his bosses might have sought to conceal the exact reason why such a procedure was used on him.”

“Okay, so he must know he’s missing memories, and probably have at least some idea as to why,” Mary summarizes. “That doesn’t explain why you think it’s such a bad idea for me to see him.”

“Because right now he’s vulnerable,” Kokoro explains, gently. “The holes in his memory make him vulnerable, and the fact that even after the fall of WCKD he hasn’t sought to undo the Swipe tells me that he might not be ready for those holes to be filled. Not yet. If you go to him, if you pressure him in any way, even without meaning to, it could be dangerous.”

“How so, Doc?” Jorge inquires, curious.

“Because memories do not exist in a vacuum,” Kokoro tells them. “Everything is connected. For example, if I were to lose the memories of you, or even just the memory of our first meeting. I would not just be forgetting knowing you, but also having met so many others. Because if I never met you, then I never met the Right Arm, or the immunes. I’d have no knowledge of there being a place where I can feel safe, a home, because you’re the ones who gave me that. What’s more, I’d probably lose all sense of safety in this day and age, because without the Safe Haven, what place is there that could actually be considered safe? And the list goes on and on…”

“That’s…” Jorge’s at a loss for words.

“I didn’t know the Swipe worked like that,” Newt admits quietly.

“Not many do,” Kokoro shrugs. “Though that may be because most people who’ve been subjected to the Swipe, like you, lost all memories bar your own names or the names WCKD gave you. So, with the minds being blank slates this kind of stuff just wouldn’t be noticeable.” She exhales. “The thing is, there’s so much about the human mind we just don’t know, don’t understand, that we probably never will. And WCKD just never bothered finding out about any of it. Simply put, they didn’t consider it relevant to what they intended to use the Swipe for.”

“What can we do then?” Mary asks, eager to do something, anything. “How can we help?”

The answer, in the end, is not one Mary likes. If they want to approach Thomas they have to be gentle about it, patient. And above all, they must let him make his own choices when it comes to his memories and whether or not he wants them back.

“Is it even possible?” Jorge asks. “Undoing the Swipe?”

“It is, but it’s not easy,” Kokoro points out. “Even in the best circumstances, getting back memories can be very traumatic. See, the Swipe doesn’t actually ‘take’ memories. What it does is place a block in them, within your own mind, to keep you from being able to access them.”

“So what? You take away the block and that’s it, the memories are back?” Vince doesn’t think it can be that easy.

“Yes and no,” Kokoro says. “I mean, you’d have access to them again, yes. But depending on how long it's been since the block was placed, chances are your brain will have learned to… skip that section of your memories by then. So even with the block gone, you wouldn’t be accessing the memories because,” she makes a pause, hand on the back of her neck. 

“Well, the best way to put it would be to say that you would have forgotten how to access them. Like the memories from our distant childhoods. There are some theorists that believe we never really forget them, per say, it’s just that we stop actively remembering them, so eventually we just don’t really recall them anymore. It’s how someone might say that they have liked chocolate since they were a baby, or that they used to climb out of their crib, that sort of thing. They might not have specific memories of those events, but they know they happened, because those memories are, in fact, still buried somewhere in their minds.”

“Sounds complicated, Doc,” Jorge points out.

“It is,” Kokoro nods. “Like I said before, the mind is very complicated. It’s quite possible we’ve forgotten more than we’ve ever known about it. But back to your Mr. Thomas, do we even know if his chip was taken out?”

Newt picks up one of the files, going through it quickly before getting to the correct page and nodding in confirmation. The chip was, in fact, taken out the day Thomas became a Volunteer.

“Well, that means there is no physical barrier keeping his memories locked up,” Kokoro explains. “If he still doesn’t remember it must be because, like I said, his brain doesn’t remember how to access those memories.”

“How could he relearn that?” Vince asks, then revises. “Can that be relearned?”

“Yes, but he needs to want to,” Kokoro points out.

“Why wouldn’t he want to…” Vince begins, at a loss for a moment.

“Your Mr. Thomas, he was tortured, yes?” Kokoro asks them, very gently. “Probably not long before he was subjected to the Swipe. If he were to recover his memories…” She trails off for a moment, before shaking her head. “You cannot just pick what he remembers and what he doesn’t. It doesn’t work like that. It’s all or nothing. Even if it might not happen all at the same time. He might not want to remember some things. That might even be the reason why, even with the chip gone, he doesn’t remember.”

“And if it’s not that?” Mary asks, just for argument’s sake, it would seem.

“Well, if the loss of the chip didn’t do it,” Kokoro exhales, considering the possibilities. “There are only two things known to undo the Swipe. The first is the Flare. Something in the virus seems to undo the Swipe. Which makes sense if you think about it, considering that the Flare attacks the brain.  The other… the other is an NDE.”

“NDE?” Newt parrots, confused.

“Near Death Experience,” Jorge clarifies. “Means he would have to die, for a little while, hermano .”

“Sounds dangerous,” Newt really doesn’t like it.

Then again, if Thomas is immune, what are the chances the Flare would do anything? Which leaves them with… nothing.

It’s definitely not the most heartening notion.

xXx

Thomas doesn’t understand why people are suddenly interested in him. It doesn’t make sense. He’s… he’s no one. Nothing more than a former WCKD employee who managed to avoid being sent to an actual prison simply because he’s lucky enough to be immune!

Throughout his life so many people have told Thomas time and again, that he’s special. He’s never felt special. Really, immunity is a roll of the dice, it’s not something he can control, and certainly not something he earned. It just is. And it’s because of that immunity that WCKD, that Ava Paige was ever interested in him. That he was made into one of the Elites.

Oh, Thomas knows he’s intelligent, sure. But it’s not like he’s the only one. He’s seen the charts, there were at least two other children, in the early stages of testing, whose scores were just as high as Thomas’ and Teresa’s, higher than Rachel’s and Ari’s even. And yet they were taken out of the pool of candidates for no other reason than the fact that they weren’t immune.

And now, now WCKD has fallen. Ava is dead, Janson too, Teresa and everyone else who worked at WCKD are either being executed or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. All but Thomas. He gets to spend his days in a low-security facility in the north. He has an actual private bedroom, a bathroom, good food, he’s even allowed access to a library and the yard every day! And all he has to do in exchange is donate a pint of blood every eight weeks or so.

He was even offered a chance to work with the scientists studying the serum made from his blood, finding out what potentially makes it different from others. He doesn’t actually understand that, but then again, science has never been his thing. He’s a programmer, after all.

And on that front, he still wants to know why people think that his blood is that different from any other immune’s! It makes no sense.

“What do you know about how the serum works?” The young woman visiting asks him.

Her name is Brenda. She’s a young woman of average height and build, with tanned skin, chocolate eyes and shoulder-length straight hair of a brown so dark it’s almost black. Often dressed in a plain sweatshirt, cargo pants and boots. She’s been Thomas’ most consistent visitor for weeks.

“I know it’s created from the enzymes the immunes produce, which work against the Flare,” Thomas states. “WCKD would harvest those directly from a pocket in the back of a person’s brain. The Right Arm instead draws blood and filters it until they can get what’s needed through use of several catalysts. Not sure which process might be more effective.”

“I’m pretty sure which one is torture, and which one isn’t,” Brenda deadpans.

Thomas shrugs, not arguing with her about it.

“What do you know about how effective a serum can be?” Brenda asks him next. “About how long a dose lasts?”

“It can last anywhere from a few hours to a few months,” Thomas answers promptly. “I think it depends on the quality and quantity of the enzymes, and how far along the infected person is.” He shrugs. “Science has never been my specialty.” His eyes narrow; even with how often he’s been seeing Brenda in recent weeks, she’s never cared for asking such questions of him, just chatting about inconsequential topics. “Why all the questions? Is there something wrong with my enzyme?”

Was he no longer useful? Were the Right Arm going to void their deal with him if they no longer had a use for him, for his blood? It’s not like… He’ll go to prison, if that’s what must be; from the start, he did not offer himself as a Volunteer to avoid prison, but rather because he wanted to be useful somehow and if that’s not working…

“I had the Flare, you know?” Brenda says suddenly, apropos of nothing. “Got bitten by a Crank while on the Scorch. About six months before we took the Last City, I think.”

Thomas opens his mouth, then, unable to think of anything to say, closes it again.

“Being part of the Right Arm, I made a few friends, immunes, who volunteered to donate blood for my serum, whenever I needed a dose,” she explains. “They’d take turns. We soon came to learn about the differences. How Fry’s lasted longer than Gally’s; Minho’s lasts less but is stronger so it was good when we were doing a raid. We learned what you watch out for, the early signs that I’d be needing another dose soon; and when it was just my own nerves working against me. It helped when a few others got infected too, as we taught them how to handle things. Having the Flare didn’t have to be a death sentence anymore; or at least, not right away. We of course knew we’d always need the serums, and there was the very real chance that one day even that would no longer be enough. But still.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Thomas really doesn’t understand.

“I had a relapse right after the attack on the Last City.” It’s hard to tell if Brenda’s ignoring him, or if that’s somehow supposed to be the answer to his question. “The boys were busy securing the place, but Sonya was willing to be my donor that time. Then Mary told us that one of the programmers at WCKD was Volunteering. They wanted to test the strength of his enzyme, and since I needed a dose…”

“They gave it to you,” Thomas finishes for her.

It makes sense. Even with him volunteering. The Right Arm needed to be sure that the serum made out of his blood would work.

“Has it stopped working?” he asks her.

“No,” Brenda shakes her head.

“Is it less potent than what you require?” he inquires next. “Do you need a dose more frequent than what I’m providing?”

Not like he knows what he could do in either of those cases, but still.

“The potency and the duration are fine,” Brenda states. “More than fine, actually. See, I haven’t required another dose since the first I got from you.”

No dose since the— What?! Thomas’ mind goes completely blank at that because… It’s not possible. He’s not a scientist, true, but he knows that’s just not possible! That’s not how the serum, the enzyme, the Flare, how any of it works!

“That’s impossible,” Thomas blurts out.

“Apparently not,” Brenda says with a shrug.

“No, really,” Thomas insists. “I… I’ve seen it. The most a dose will last is two months. Two! And that’s if you’re like, extremely lucky and just got infected! It’s… it’s been four months since the attack and… and you said you were infected six before that and…”

“And I haven’t gotten sick again since,” Brenda insists. “Haven’t needed another dose in four months and haven’t had anything even approaching a relapse.”

To prove her point, she pulls up her pant leg. There, just above where her ankle boots end, visible as little more than a slight discoloration to her tanned skin, is a scar, where a Crank once bit her. It’s the only sign that she’s ever been infected. And it’s barely even visible. No redness, no irritation, no darkened veins. Truth is, if it weren’t for her earlier story, Thomas might not even believe she’s ever had the Flare at all!

“That’s… that’s…” he murmurs, at a loss what to say, or how to say it.

“I went through some tests over the past few days,” she tells Thomas. “It’s been confirmed. Thrice over. I’m Cured.”

Thomas exhales, dropping to the closest chair, face tilted up, eyes closed. He cannot quite believe what it is he’s hearing. It’s… it’s not possible, is it?

“There’s something else you need to know, Thomas,” Brenda adds for good measure.

Thomas says nothing, he just looks at her with an expression of, what now? Because what else could Brenda possibly think he needs to know? And then she says it:

“I’m not the only one.” 

Chapter Text

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Chapter 4.

It’s six months before the Right Arm makes the official announcement that there is a Cure for the Flare. And they decided to take that long for two reasons. The first is so they might have as many doses as possible at hand when people start asking for one; and the other so they might have the time to create a plan on how exactly they will give the Cure.

They knew from the start there won’t be enough for everyone. At the same time, after WCKD, and with some civilians still distrustful of a paramilitary group like the Right Arm, they know not many will trust them immediately.

That time also allowed them to take full advantage of Thomas’ donations. With a pint of blood donated every eight weeks, that translated to nearly 500ml of blood. Which means about fifty vials of blood, and as many doses of serum. 

Something Mary and her team of scientists discovered was that a half dose of his serum was just as effective as a full one from most of the other Volunteers. They also learned that when treating people in the early stages of the Flare, it was possible to combine a normal dose of serum with a little bit of Thomas’, and that would work as a Cure. It was only the people who were fully sick already, close to the Gone, that needed more of Thomas’ enzymes. And even then, half a dose was enough.

There were those who believed that the full dose of Thomas’ serum might even be enough to bring back someone already past the Gone, but that was one theory no one was interested in testing. On the one hand, it was dangerous, trying to administer anything to someone who’d already gone full Crank, not many were crazy enough to take such a risk. On the other… The thought of telling the people who might have had to put down someone, friends, loved ones, or even complete strangers, once they got past the Gone; having to tell them that they could have been saved… Perhaps this was one instance where ignorance truly might prove to be bliss, so Mary and Vince decided they simply did not want to know the answer to that question.

Thomas offers to donate more blood, more often, and is summarily refused.

“You’re a person, not a blood bag,” Dr. Emil, who takes his blood every eight weeks, informs him in his usual no-nonsense tone.

“I… I know that,” Thomas murmurs.

“Do you?” he doesn’t think the younger man does, not really.

“I just want to help,” Thomas shrugs.

“You are, kid, a lot,” Emil reassures him. “More than you’ll ever know. Regardless of whether you manage to Cure 10 people, or ten thousand. The greatest thing you’re giving us is hope. Hope that this virus can be beaten. That one day the Flare might be a thing of the past. That we, that humanity, might survive after all.”

Thomas blushes, unable to help himself.

“I’m not a kid,” he mumbles, eventually.

He’s not. He might not know his exact age, but he knows he’s not a child. Then again, was he ever? If one were to ignore things like numbers and focus on treatment, on actions, on expectations, has he been given a chance to be a child at all since WCKD first took him in? He doesn’t think so.

Thomas is moved to a different location after the Cure is made public. While there’s no reason anyone should even suspect him to be involved in any of it, the Right Arm decides to be proactive. So all the Volunteers are split up, sent to different locations where pockets of the Right Arm have taken position. Thomas himself is sent to their main stronghold, on the West Coast.

The place, according to Jorge (Brenda’s quasi-father and the one in charge of that place) is an old country club, or something along those lines. A place where, before the Flare and the Scorch, people, usually rich, would go to have fun, to eat, fish, ride boats out into the sea, among other things. The place was completely run down, but the Right Arm got it running again, made it into one of their outposts, and eventually their main stronghold.

Rumor has it that the last one was done because the port, the ships docked there, are the only way to get to the fabled Safe Haven.

Thomas has heard of the Safe Haven, of course, who hasn’t? Though unlike most, he’s well aware the place is not a myth, or a lie. It does exist. An island somewhere in the North Pacific, far away enough from the mainland to be safe from the virus, even after it went airborne, yet at the same time close enough to be safe from the dangers of the open sea; dangers that have only grown since the Sun scorched the Earth and permanently fucked up the global weather patterns. The place is so secret, it cannot be found in any maps, not by the radar, or even satellite.

Thomas is also pretty sure that he knows at least one thing about that place that no one else does: There is a reason the place is so well hidden, so impossible to find. Also, there was a time when it was less of a secret to WCKD than most might believe.

There was a time, before the Maze Trials were approved, before WCKD got into their heads that the torture and killing of immune children was an acceptable price in their search for a Cure (one that might not have existed; one that might have forever gone unfound!). Back when WCKD truly was good, their plan for the preservation of the human race was less about trying to save everyone from the Flare, and more about ensuring that those who were immune, could be safe enough from the rest of humanity to start over.

That’s what the island, the Safe Haven, was all about. A new beginning, the basis for a new society built by those immune to the Flare. And it wasn’t begun by the Right Arm, but by WCKD.

Then WCKD’s priorities unexpectedly changed. They went down a dark path, tearing children from their families, forcing them through all sorts of tests and eventually throwing them into Mazes where 90% of them were expected to die. So, when those who could no longer stand behind Ava and her plans left, they took all the information they could about the island; going as far as making sure to erase the information from WCKD’s servers before they left. They turned the island into the Safe Haven it was always meant to be.

Just once, Thomas expresses curiosity about the people who’ve been Cured thanks to his serum. Brenda actually gets a list for him and hands it over during her next visit, paying careful attention to his reaction to every name.

Brenda’s name is not the one at the top of the list, as Thomas soon realizes.

“Cheyenne…?” he murmurs quietly,

“Yeah, she’s this girl that—” Brenda starts to explain.

“I know,” Thomas cuts her off. “I… I know her. Is she alright?”

“Perfectly,” Brenda answers, then revises. “She doesn’t seem to trust most of the Right Arm, but gets along pretty well with a number of the immunes. They even managed to convince her to agree to move to the island and should be making the trip in a week.”

“Good,” Thomas nods. “I’m glad she made it.”

“I’m gonna ask, because I just gotta know,” Brenda tells him.

“What?” Thomas inquires. “Why I stayed with WCKD for so long?”

“Well, that wasn’t what I was gonna ask,” Brenda admits. “But now that you mention it…”

“People keep asking me why I stayed with WCKD for so long, knowing what they did. Why I ever worked for them in the first place. And yet, it’s not like they really care about why I did… any of it. They just want an excuse to hate me, to see me as just another WCKD monster… I don’t understand, why is it that all other immunes are seen like… like victims, like survivors, like the hope for the future whereas I… It’s like people have forgotten that I was once exactly like the rest of those kids.”

He still is, much as he might try to deny it.

“Thomas…” Brenda begins, at a loss regarding what to say to that.

“I don’t want your pity,” Thomas shakes his head. “That’s not why I said any of this. I’m just trying to make you see things from my side. I was four years old when my father got the Flare.” He swallows. “At first my mother… I think she wanted to believe that it wasn’t that big a deal. That it would be handled. The government would have a cure soon. She locked my father in the basement, which served as a separate apartment. She’d have me visit with him about once a week, when he was having a ‘good day’.” He exhales. “Until the day he tried to kill me. He scratched us both. My arm healed. Her neck didn’t.” He closes his eyes tight, just for a moment. “I think that’s when she knew that things were not going to get better. She took me to the closest military checkpoint shortly afterwards. I joined a group of other kids, most of them immune, and we were taken to a WCKD facility. I had just turned five years old. I don’t think even Mom remembered it was my birthday…”

Brenda’s looking at him with a quiet intensity. It’s clear she’s never heard about any of this.

“WCKD took… everything from me, from all of us.” Thomas says in a contemplative tone. “But the thing is, WCKD was also all we knew.”

“But if the other boys knew that WCKD was bad, why not you?” Brenda dares ask.

“Who says I didn’t know?” Thomas asks, so very, very quietly. “I mean, we’re talking about a company willing to torture children to get them to obey! Sometimes knowing something is bad is not enough. Because what good is knowing, when the knowledge alone won’t change anything? WCKD always had such power; social and economical and military behind it. Enough that even the Right Arm hesitated when going after them. What was I, alone, supposed to do?”

And isn’t that the question?

Though the thing is, he did do something, didn’t he?

That’s probably the first time Brenda begins to wonder at what that decision must have cost him, what it might still be costing him. 

xXx

To the surprise of some, not everyone seems to be happy about the discovery of a Cure.

“This makes no shucking sense!” Minho exclaims. “I mean, it’s a cure! A Cure to the Flare! To the stupid virus that has killed so many! And yet people still aren’t happy?! Why?!”

“There will never be something that will make absolutely everyone happy, that’s a fact of the world, hermano ,” Jorge points out.

“I know that!” Minho insists.

“Do you?” Brenda challenges.

“I mean, in theory?” Minho shrugs. “But how can people be against something that saves lives? That could potentially save their own lives? The lives of their friends? Their families? It makes no sense!”

“It’s not easy, when someone has made their peace with death, to suddenly find out things have changed,” Vince points out in a sober tone. “These people have spent years, perhaps even more than a decade, convinced that sooner or later they’re going to die. They’ve probably lost so many people they cared for. Friends, family, loved ones. They’ve probably just been waiting for their own turn to go. And now they learn they don’t have to go. Something you need to understand is that accepting life can be as hard, at times harder even, than accepting death.”

“Well, if they don’t want the Cure, they just don’t have to take it, right?” Minho insists.

“I don’t think it’s that simple for them, Min,” Brenda points out. “And it might not even be about the Cure itself. There are so many possibilities here.”

“Like what?” Minho still doesn’t get it.

“Minho, imagine that Brenda hadn’t received the Cure.” Newt surprises everyone when he speaks up. “Imagine that something went wrong that day, and she didn’t get any serum, and then it was too late. And then, a month later, or a week later, or even just a day later, a Cure is discovered. And you’re told you no longer have to fear the Flare, because if you, or anyone you know is infected, you just need to request a dose of the Cure and everything would be alright. And maybe that should be good news, but not for you, because you? You’ve already lost the one person you loved who could have ever benefited from the Cure.”

Brenda eeps at her inclusion in that little scenario, while Minho just goes progressively pale, until by the end he reaches out to Brenda in what seems like an instinctive move, as if wanting to reassure himself that she is, in fact, still there, Cured. That he hasn’t lost her…

“So, now what, hermanos ?” Jorge inquires.

“We need to be careful,” Vince states. “Rotate patrols and be on your guard. While it is possible that those who’re against the Cure, simply won’t ask for it… There is always the chance that someone might get into their heads that the Cure shouldn’t exist, for whatever the reason. We need to be ready for anything.”

“We need to keep Thomas safe,” Brenda states.

It’s not like anyone knows that he’s the Cure or anything, but still. Better to be safe than sorry.

And so plans are made for Newt and Minho to join Brenda and Jorge at the old country club in a week or so, to help keep Thomas safe.

No one expects for the attack to come before that.

xXx

Thomas keeps smiling long after the ship has left the docks, after they’ve gotten far enough that there’s no way anyone on it can still see them properly. He certainly cannot see anyone anymore, though a part of him is sure they’re still there, that Cheyenne is still there. So he stays where he is.

“You really care about the squirt, don’t you?” Brenda comments with a playful smirk.

“Cheyenne?” Thomas asks. “I suppose I do. It’s hard to explain.”

“Seems simple enough to me,” Brenda says with a shrug. “You saved her life. First, with your blood. Then when you killed Janson.”

“Yeah, but see, and this is gonna sound absolutely awful but… neither of those things were actually about her, not really,” Thomas admits.

That does call Brenda’s attention.

“I’ve been wondering,” she reveals. “About what made you decide to use your blood to help her in the first place. Especially when you decided to create a serum using a method that no one in WCKD seems to have even known about!”

“Oh, I knew it was possible to make a serum out of immune blood,” Thomas states calmly. “Knew it required filtering and several catalysts to separate the different parts of the blood, to make sure that only what was needed for the serum remained. I don’t know if WCKD really didn’t know about the method, or if someone somewhere merely decided the method wasn’t… efficient enough.”

“Efficient meaning torturing immunes in order to get the serum.” Brenda’s voice may remain even, but her face shows how horrified she is at the idea.

“Efficient meaning being able to get the enzymes directly, without needing to do any additional chemical processes,” Thomas clarifies. “In any case, like I said, it wasn’t about Cheyenne, specifically. I just…” He trails off, just for a moment. “I was so tired. Of watching people suffer, die, of doing nothing. I needed to do something, anything at all. And Teresa wanted so badly to save her. It just… it felt right.”

“And Janson?”

“Janson was always a danger. I don’t know how Ava could miss it. Or maybe… maybe she knew and found his sociopathic tendencies and penchant for extreme violence useful. As long as she could control Janson, could direct his worst impulses, she could avoid getting her hands dirty.” He scoffs. “Janson always hated me. Hated that despite all his years of service, Ava still intended to have me take over WCKD one day. Well, at least until they realized I wasn’t quite as absolutely loyal to them as I used to be.” He pauses. “I never was, you know? Completely loyal, I mean. It was just that for a while there I honestly believed that they might be the lesser evil, and even once I realized that wasn’t true, for the longest time I didn’t think there was anything I could do.”

“Thomas…”

“Killing Janson… I always knew it’d come to that one day. Either he’d kill me, or I’d kill him. He probably would have killed me a long time ago. He almost got away with doing it when my actions against WCKD were discovered. But in the end Ava wanted so badly to believe that she had more control over things, over me, than she ever did.”

“So you killed Janson. But not for Cheyenne. For Teresa?”

“You could see it that way, but it wasn’t just her. It was… everyone. All the people Janson had ever hurt. All the people he’d keep on hurting. He’d have never let us go. Would have never let us be at peace. And as good as you guys are, I’m not sure anyone in your organization, except perhaps Vince, would be capable of killing him.”

“Yeah, well, Vince is a pretty good fighter. But Jorge and I are no slouches, either, you know?”

“It’s not about that. It’s… Janson was a monster. He’s the kind of monster who not only saw no problem with killing dozens, even hundreds of children for the mere hope of a cure that might have never come. If he’d ever been the one to find the Cure… he wouldn’t have sought to save the world. No, he would have used it to control it. He’d have used it as a bargaining chip, as a way to own whoever was left in this world. To build his own empire from the ruins of our planet.”

“Isn’t that what WCKD was doing from the start?”

“Maybe. But I think that, deep down, most people at WCKD honestly believed they were doing good. That they were going to save the world. Ava certainly did. Janson didn’t want to save anyone other than himself. After that, it was all about power, about him having it. If it meant ending up as king of nothing more than sand and ashes, he’d have done it and not regretted it for a moment.”

“So what you’re saying is, we’re really lucky you decided to kill Janson when you did.” Brenda summarizes after a moment of silence.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Thomas states quietly.

It’s still not a denial of Brenda’s own statement.

“Who for then?” she really, really wants to know; though she doubts he’ll answer her.

He does, after a fashion.

“Someone I knew a long time ago,” he confesses. “A friend.”

There’s something about those words… They make something itch in the back of Brenda’s mind. She doesn’t know why. There’s something significant about those words, but she just cannot put her finger on what it is, exactly.

And then it hits her: the Swipe.

“You are aware that you were Swiped,” Brenda blurts out. “Your memories taken.”

“Yes…?” Thomas asks, though it sounds less like a question and more like a deadpanned answer. “I mean, it was obvious from the start.”

“And yet you haven’t asked for help,” Brenda presses.

“Why would I?” Thomas seems to be honestly confused about that.

“So you can remember!” Brenda finally snaps.

“Who says I don’t?”

“What?!”

Brenda never gets the chance to demand an explanation, for right then there’s shooting, and shouting, and everything goes to hell.

xXx

It’s an absolute disaster.

The Right Arm knew, almost from the start, that not everyone agreed with there being a Cure. The more pragmatic (or was it paranoid?) of them even knew to expect an attack of some sort. Whether it was because the attackers thought the Cure was coming too late, or that it should have never existed at all. Crazy people will do crazy things, that’s a fact.

And yet they never expected something like this. Explosives on the doors, a group dressed in what might pass for armor, herding Cranks, most of whom are clearly way past the Gone, pushing them in to attack those in the Right Arm base!

Newt and Minho have only just arrived on base, and they immediately get to work, doing their best to help Jorge get things under control, but it’s next to impossible. The crazy people in armor are bad enough, but the Cranks are just making things insane!

Brenda arrives a minute later, guns blazing. Coming at the attackers from a direction they clearly weren’t expecting, which helps the rest of them close ranks and better confront the invaders. 

The strategy works well. And while it doesn’t happen immediately, the Right Arm does eventually manage to get things under control for the most part. Even as the fight continues, it’s clear they’re the ones with the advantage. At least until the exceedingly loud sound of a gun being cocked, freezes everyone in place. Newt knows, even before he turns around, that it’s pointing straight at him.

“Freeze!” the leader of the attackers demands in a husky voice. “Anyone moves and I shoot!”

“Then shoot,” Newt orders.

Several voices call his name, his friends, but the blonde ignores them. He won’t be used as a hostage. He won’t!

And then another figure comes out of nowhere and straight at the gunman in armor.

The two figures fight. At one moment they fall to the floor, but they’re back on their feet as soon as they can. Neither giving up. Wrestling for the gun. And then it happens: a shot rings out.

Somewhere to the side, Brenda shrieks.

The two figures stumble for a couple of steps and then one falls. It’s the gunman.

“Anyone else wanna give it a try?” A voice demands, gun cocked and pointing at the few attackers still on their feet.

“Tommy?!” Newt breathes out in absolute shock.

The brunette turns to look at him over his shoulder, just for a moment, never lowering the gun. Whiskey eyes lay on chocolate ones, and… is the guy smirking?! Newt can hardly believe it!

“Hey Newt,” the brunette greets him, a smile dancing on his lips. “Long time no see.”

Newt’s jaw just drops in shock because, bloody hell, does that mean Tommy remembers him?! 

Chapter Text

Also available for download or streaming here: CHAPTER 5. Duration: 00:25:22, 20.0 MB. Enjoy!

Apologies, I was sick when I recorded this. Comments are love! <3

Chapter 5.

It takes hours for the Right Arm to deal with all the attackers, Cranks included. By then Vince, Mary and several more members have arrived on a berg from the Last City.

Through it all, Newt refuses to allow Thomas out of his line of sight. Something the brunette seems to find funny and annoying by turns.

“I still cannot believe people would do something like this,” Mary murmurs quietly, as she and the others stand watching the burning corpses of their attackers.

“What, try to destroy everything?” Minho scoffs. “It’s what some seem to excel at!”

“The plan makes no sense, though,” Brenda points out. “I mean, it would have been one thing for them to attack. But why bring the Cranks?”

“It makes a lot of sense, actually,” Thomas offers. “It’s all about the Cure, yes? About how it shouldn’t exist. Or maybe just that it’s all pointless because there will never be enough. I mean, just think about it. What would things look like, if they’d succeeded? Those people would have either destroyed or stolen all doses of the Cure we have here. With the Cranks around, I have no doubt every non-immune in this base would have ended up infected. And then… then it’s when things would have gotten truly interesting.” Thomas looks at each of them seriously, willing them to understand the importance of what he’s saying. “Because if there hasn’t been a lot of demand for the Cure in other locations, then we might have been able to get enough doses for everyone. But chances were, there just wouldn’t have been enough. And since my most recent donation was less than a month ago…”

“We would be without doses, and without any way of getting more for at least four weeks,” Vince mutters, brow furrowed.

“Less if you were willing to have me donate more frequently, but—” Thomas begins.

“No,” Mary cuts him off almost before he finishes speaking. “That would be dangerous.”

Thomas just shrugs, as if he was already expecting someone to say something like that.

“And with that, they’d have won,” he says in an almost theatrical tone. “Proving, once and for all, that we’re not as ready for things as we claim to be.”

“But they didn’t win,” Brenda points out, almost petulantly. “We did.”

More than one person starts shaking their heads even before she’s finished speaking.

“Did we?” Thomas asks. “Or did we just not lose… yet?”

“This group might have been the first, they won’t be the last,” Newt murmurs in understanding.

“We need to be ready before there’s another attack,” Thomas confirms.

And truly, it’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.

xXx

In the end it’s until the evening, after the bodies have been burned, perimeters secured and everyone is mostly certain that they’re all safe, that the group comes together again, and they finally address the elephant in the room.

“You remember,” Newt states, looking straight at Thomas and it’s not a question.

For a moment, it looks like either Vince or Mary are going to ask what’s going on, but when Newt continues speaking, they go from confused to shocked. 

“You called me by my name, you called me Newt and…” He trails off. 

“And you called me Tommy,” Thomas points out with a wide smile.

“You remember,” Newt reiterates.

“Yes,” Thomas nods calmly.

“You never told us,” Newt blurts out.

“You never asked,” Thomas rolls his eyes at him. “Really, people, why is this a thing? A thing that matters, that bothers you? I don’t get it.”

“You were Swiped,” Brenda points out.

“I know, I was there.” Thomas states, deadpan.

“You never asked for help to remember,” she doesn’t know how else to explain their confusion.

“Because I never needed any help!” Thomas truly doesn’t understand why they’re making such a big deal out of it.

“When did you remember?” Jorge asks, curious.

“A few weeks after it happened, I suppose?” Thomas shrugs. “Not long after the transfer to the Last City.”

“So you knew what had happened,” Newt realizes. “What they’d done to you. I didn’t think they’d have admitted to it.”

“Of course no one told me,” Thomas scoffs. “I didn’t need anyone to tell me, it was obvious enough. Really, an ‘accident’ so bad that we lose Maze A? So bad that I end up in the infirmary for two weeks? So bad that I have no memory about any of it? And yet not so bad, because Teresa didn’t have so much as a scratch on her!”

Really, Teresa, Ava and everyone else had to have believed him stupid. To have thought he wouldn’t question their story. The way things just didn’t fit.

“So you knew everything,” Brenda breathes out in realization.

“I knew enough,” Thomas states. “And extrapolated the rest from there. My missing memories… they were too specific for the loss of them to have truly been caused by any kind of accident. Which made it obvious I had been Swiped. The injuries also, they were… too methodical, too specific to have been caused by any kind of accident, or even a fight. Which made it obvious I’d been tortured. I couldn’t know why exactly, but considering what I knew of myself, the most likely cause was that I had finally had the guts to do something about WCKD’s penchant for killing immunes and got found out.”

Everyone just… blinks, at the way Thomas manages to so accurately put everything together.

“I made arrangements then,” Thomas continues. “Got my hands on some of the Griever poison, as I knew it was the easiest method. I was believed to still be recovering from everything, so it wasn’t hard, when I fell unconscious and was seemingly ill for a few days, for people to believe that it was just part of the same.”

“You didn’t tell Teresa,” Newt murmurs, thoughtfully.

“No, why would I have?” Thomas asks in return. “She’d already betrayed me once.”

“What?!” No one was expecting that admission.

“Giving the Right Arm the coordinates to everything was not Plan A, you know?” Thomas asks in an almost conversational tone. “My original plan involved going into the Maze myself, with my memories intact, and helping everyone out. I talked about it with Teresa, as I knew I’d need her help to convince Ava it was a good idea. I even shared the proposal with Aris and Rachel. The other Favorites, our counterparts in Maze B.”

“Aris and Rachel?” Vince repeats. “I’m not aware of anyone with those names.”

“You wouldn’t be, they’re both dead,” Thomas states, evenly. “They agreed with my plan. Not just regarding getting everyone out of the Mazes. But we also planned to ensure that Stage 2 would never take place. We wanted to bring an end to the Trials. Teresa disagreed. She… believed too much in WCKD, in the search for a Cure. She agreed that it should be done, no matter the cost. That no sacrifice would ever be too great. She betrayed us, and told Ava about our real intentions.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly. “I only found out when Aris sent me one last encrypted message. Warning me. He told me that Rachel had just been Swiped and sent into the Maze. And that Janson was after him, and he had no doubt that he would be following.”

“This was Maze B, yes?” Mary asks. “We did go after Maze B, didn’t we?”

“We did, but things didn’t go well,” Vince shakes his head. “WCKD arrived, almost before we did. We only managed to get a handful of girls out of there. WCKD got a handful more and the rest… they died in the confrontation.”

So many innocent lives lost…

“They’re the ones we found in that facility in the Scorch, aren’t they?” Jorge asks, somber.

The facility in the Scorch, Janson’s facility. One of the places they’d taken the longest to mount an attack against, precisely because they were so unsure what the results would be. That they’d be able to pull it off, that the reward would be worth it. By the time they got around to it, the immunes there had already been undergoing harvesting for so long, there was nothing that could be done for them.

“You were planning on coming into our Maze?” Newt asks Thomas directly, not quite able to believe it. “You were coming after us?”

“After you Newt, always you,” Thomas confirms. “And of course I was.” He chuckles without mirth. “At least, that was the plan, until Teresa decided to turn on us. When Aris told me what was happening on their end, I went looking for her. You know, I actually thought Ava had turned on all four of us. I wanted to warn her… and then when I went to talk to her… The moment I started talking, I saw her face, and I knew… I knew that it hadn’t been Ava, that it was her. She betrayed us. That’s also when I knew my original plan was never going to work.”

“But they were already coming after you…” Brenda doesn’t understand, when did he even have the time to do anything?

“There was a failsafe,” Thomas explains with a small smile. “All I had to do was enter a command in a computer, any computer, connected to the same net as my own, and it released my final message to the Right Arm. The encrypted file carrying the names, codes and coordinates of every WCKD location on the planet.”

Hearing Thomas talk about that, about Teresa betraying him. Newt wonders if perhaps she came to regret it, eventually. If perhaps that was why she decided to do what she did, seeking that deal with the Right Arm. A deal for information on their Source: Stephen, in exchange for the Right Arm having mercy on Thomas. She hadn’t told them that the two were one and the same, and she had to have known, but maybe she didn’t think they’d have believed it, or that they’d have taken her seriously. 

She couldn’t have known about the things that Newt himself remembered. All the memories the Flare returned to him. Not only of his parents, his sister, but also of his friends, from before the Maze, the memories of Tommy… His Tommy …

Newt supposes it doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done. The past is gone, nothing more than memory (and for some it’s not even that). The future… life is so uncertain, there’s no guarantee they will even live to see it. All they have, all that matters, is the present.

“Stephen…” Mary calls, quiet, hesitant.

All eyes turn to Thomas instantly, so everyone bears witness to the rather visceral reaction the young man has to the sound of that name. As his entire body flinches, like he’s just been electrocuted.

“Thomas/Tommy…?” Brenda and Newt call at the same time, worried.

“I’d rather… not answer to that name, if it’s all the same to you, Mary,” Thomas says quietly.

“But… but that’s the name you gave me…” Mary murmurs in a stilted tone that makes it clear she doesn’t understand.

“I know,” Thomas nods, then exhales before explaining. “That’s the name my mother gave me. The name WCKD took from me, by force. It’s… not a name I’d choose to be known by, even today.”

“Why use it with us, then?” Vince doesn’t understand.

“I needed to be able to give you a name,” Thomas explains. “A name that meant something. But one that WCKD wouldn’t connect to me, not immediately. And I suppose… I suppose choosing… that name, was a way of saying fuck you to those who forced me to give that very name up. By turning it into the name of the person who helped engineer their fall.”

It was wonderful, almost poetic, really.

“You prefer Thomas, then?” Jorge wants to confirm.

“It’s who I am,” Thomas shrugs. “It’s who I’ve been since I was five years old.”

All he remembers of being Stephen is a father who had to work all day, a mother who loved him very much and… pain. So much pain, endless pain as he was forced to give that very name up. As he was forced to become Thomas Paige instead. He’s dropped the Paige from his name now, though. He doesn’t want to have any more connection to that woman, not ever again.

In any case, Stephen existed in another world. Before it was Scorched, before the Flare decimated it all and WCKD tore most of what remained while lying that they were going to save everyone…

He’s Thomas now. And that’s enough.

xXx

“Tommy…?”

Thomas lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he hears that voice, Newt’s voice, calling to him, and by that name. He’s been waiting, ever since the impromptu meeting came to an end. He’s been waiting, wondering if the blonde would come… or not.

Of all the things Thomas imagined might come to pass, back on that day, that heartbreaking day when he was forced to stand and watch as his best friend was placed inside that machine, as his body was drowned and his mind was wiped clean, as all the memories, the past the two of them had shared was erased… Thomas never thought the day might come when the two of them might come face to face again, with all the weight (the pain, the grief, the hope, the rage, the joy…) of those memories back. 

“Hello, Newt,” he greets the blonde.

“You remember me,” Newt murmurs, somewhat unnecessarily.

“As do you,” Thomas points out.

For what feels like a long time, none of them say a word. The two just stare at each other. Newt in curiosity. He keeps looking at this older version of his old friend, it’s easy to see the lonely child in him, in the shadows in his eyes; and yet there’s also more. A man tempered by the fire of a war he was forced to fight alone, first as a lone spy, with no support and no back-up and then as the one left behind, as a prisoner in all but name. And still he found a way to not only survive against all odds, but he even managed to make it back to Newt. 

For Thomas, it’s perhaps a bit easier, seeing Newt, knowing him. And still there’s a sense of wonder there. Because this Newt isn’t behind a screen, or trapped at the center of an incredibly dangerous Maze. He’s out, he’s free, he’s Cured… and all three things are in no small part thanks to him.

“Is it true?” Newt blurts out unexpectedly.

“Is what true?” Thomas asks in return.

To be honest, there are quite a few questions he imagines Newt wanting to ask him. Though at the same time, most of the questions people have been known to ask, are ones Newt would already know the answer to. Everything from Thomas’ history with WCKD, his work on the Maze, to his time in the Last City. The brunette doesn’t think he has many secrets left, if any at all.

“Did you…” Newt hesitates, nervous. “The things you did… turning on WCKD, spying on them for the Right Arm… everything. Did you… was it… for me?”

There’s so much emotion in his chocolate eyes when Thomas looks at him, and he can only imagine what might be showing in his own amber ones. Though in the end, there’s only one answer Thomas can possibly give. It might be too simple, nowhere near enough to convey the wealth of feeling and thought and so much more. Yet that doesn’t make it any less true:

“Yes.”

It doesn’t make everything right. Doesn’t make everything perfect. But it’s a start. A start at a future that promises to be much, much better than their past, both shared and apart.

xXx

Thomas feels no surprise at all when, the next time he must donate blood, instead of Emil, Mary is the one waiting for him at the infirmary.

She says nothing while setting up. Signaling for Thomas to sit on the most comfortable chair they have, and then working on inserting the cannula into his arm and setting up the bag that will be filled with blood soon enough.

“Everything good?” Mary asks once everything’s been set up.

“Yeah,” Thomas nods.

He cannot help but notice that she’s not even looking at him. And he knows why. It’s the same reason why Vince will often look at him, why he’s more than once looked like he’d like to approach Thomas, yet he never does.

The minutes pass, and soon enough the blood bag is full. Mary pulls the cannula out, placing a small band-aid on the inside of Thomas’s elbow before handing him a bottle with apple juice and a cookie to help up his sugar levels, to keep him from fainting or something after the donation.

While Thomas is having his snack, Mary takes the bag to the other side of the room, where she has everything set up to filter and process the blood to get the serum. It’s normal procedure. Mostly because it’s far easier to store and transport that way. Also, so Thomas can see that his blood is being used for the purpose he agreed to.

Once the serum is fully purified, it will be stored in vials and packed into boxes for transport to the various Right Arm’s outposts. Once there, small amounts of Thomas’ serum will be added to doses of serum from the other volunteers to create full doses of the Cure. This will allow them to get the greatest amount of doses of Cure possible and not waste even one milliliter; it also allows them to keep using the serum obtained from the other volunteers.

“Finished,” Mary announces. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Thomas nods.

She’s talking to him, and yet she still won’t look at him. Thomas has been waiting. And yet he can see now that she won’t be taking that first step. So he decides, why not? He walks towards the door, stopping just before stepping out and turning to her.

“I forgive you,” he tells her softly.

Thomas leaves then, so he doesn’t get to see Mary’s visceral reaction to his words, as she inhales sharply and spins around in time to see him walk away.

It’s impossible to know how long it might take for either Mary or Vince to be ready to talk to Thomas. To apologize for what they will forever see as their worst mistake: abandoning the young man they owe so much to, leaving him to be tortured, to die… And yet, that’s not how Thomas sees it.

He wouldn’t say that he’s never blamed them. In fact, there was a time when he very much did, when he hated that they didn’t even try to save him, wondered why it was that they were so willing to take risks for everyone else but him. 

In the end, the risks Thomas took, he chose to take them. And it wasn’t for the Right Arm. There was a person, a single individual, whom Thomas felt so much for… he would have done anything to save him. So how could Thomas be angry that they saved him in the end? He knew from the start that the cost of acting, of betraying WCKD, for Newt, might be his life. And he still made the choices he did knowing that.

Thomas doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret choosing Newt over WCKD. Doesn’t regret going to the Right Arm. Doesn’t regret giving them everything. He wouldn’t have regretted it even if he’d died. He certainly cannot regret having lived instead. It’s given him so many opportunities he thought he’d never have. The chance to be free of WCKD, to have a life of his own. The chance to be with Newt again…

“Tommy…”

A smile begins to form on Thomas’s lips even before the word has been fully pronounced. He just cannot help it. Newt is the kind of person who just… he’s capable of making Thomas smile, make him happy by his presence alone.

They’ve only just started a relationship. The one they were too young and too… committed to other things, to begin when they knew each other last, before the Maze. It’s been understandably hard, and yet at the same time, unbelievably easy.

They’re not the same people they were before. They’ve been through too much. Thomas’s years of spying while inside WCKD, Newt’s years in the Maze, plus his year of being part of the Right Arm and working against WCKD. And yet, at the same time, they’re still the two boys who’d meet in a maintenance closet in the middle of the night, to imagine what a better world might be like; who dreamed of a place where they might one day go to, to live, to be at peace, and free…

And now they have that. All of it and more.

Even in his wildest dreams, back when he first made the choice that would change his life, would change so many lives so absolutely, Thomas never imagined there would come a day when he’d have the chance to just… just love Newt, be with him. And yet he does now. He never planned for it, never expected it, and yet Newt still chose to give him a chance. Thomas would be an idiot not to take it.

“Everything alright, Tommy?” Newt asks him quietly as his arms embrace the slightly shorter man, chin settled on his shoulder.

It’s funny because, at first sight Thomas would seem to be the bigger of the two. And he certainly has wider shoulders; but he’s also just slightly shorter and tends to move with more of a slouch, compared to Newt’s straighter posture and predatory grace.

“You know everything’s perfect as long as you’re here, Newt,” Thomas assures him, twisting his head just enough to place a kiss on the corner of the blonde’s mouth.

Behind them, they can both hear Minho and Brenda dramatically comment on their choice of words, complaining about cheesiness and PDA and, who-knows-what-else! Thomas and Newt don’t care. They’re together, they’re happy. Nothing else matters.