Chapter 9

About an hour before the walls were meant to open, each willing runner was allocated an equally willing partner. Minho took Gally despite his bad ankle, and Thomas took Chuck, so Frypan had been left in charge of camp for the day until at least one of them cam back. As much as Thomas had tried to protest, Chuck was adamant on coming along.

As soon as the walls began to open, the four pairs squeezed through and ran in their own directions. The rest left behind oversaw the 'sick', making sure nobody died. The amount of memories that were going to be recovered would be absolutely enormous, it was quite painful to think about, but maybe collectively they could find a way out the maze and get back home. Wherever home was.

With Chuck so small and slow, he and Thomas reached their destination a little later than they'd hoped. Chuck sat down for a break, leaning back against one of the walls. He panted to catch his breath, but then he suddenly stopped. "Thomas..." He whispered, looking at him with panicked eyes. "Do you hear that?"

Thomas held his breath too, now hearing a form of grunting in the distance. Since Thomas had spent most of his time unconscious around the monster, he'd never actually heard it roar or groan or anything of the sort. "The grunting?" Thomas whispered bacj.

Chuck nodded. "That's what we heard while we were hiding, when it was searching for those who weren't struck yet."

"You go hide around that corner, I'll kill it." Thomas pulled a knife out his back pocket.

Chuck shook his head and stood up. "No, you're a lot smarter and braver than I am. You're worth a lot more than I am, Thomas. You go. Now. You know how to get out this maze, you can outrun this thing."

A fleshy hand appeared around one of the corners. "Chuck! Run!" Thomas accidentally actually shouted, pushing Chuck towards the nearest exit.

The Mourner roared, thundering in and charging right towards them. "Run!"

Thomas grabbed Chuck's hand and ran, leaving their bags behind. Chuck stumbled behind him, unable to keep up with his pace and their hands lost their grip, causing Chuck to stumble but Thomas to keep going. "Thomas, just run! Go!" Thomas spun round, starting to run back but it was too late.

The Mourner grabbed him, holding him in one fist with the poised right above his chest. "Seven!" He yelled.

Thomas frowned, tears brimming. "W-what?"

"Four!"

The code. Thomas hastily pulled out his notebook, feeling around for his pen, but... where was it!? He didn't have time for this- he had to write it down! "Five!" Chuck gasped as the grip tightened, "t-two!" Thomas slashed at his wrist, crying out in his own pain but it was the only thing he could think of.

The Mourner finally thrust its tail through Chuck's chest, the boy throwing his head back and screaming in intense agony. Blood spurted out the front and back, like a couple miniature fountains. "Three..." It was a whisper, a whisper Thomas couldn't hear.

"Chuck!!" He tried running for his body, but the Mourner growled at him, making him step back.

The Mourner dropped him with a splat, and began charging straight for Thomas. "Chuck.." He wanted to stay, he wanted to help, he wanted to kill this monster with his bare hands but it was going to kill him for sure this time.

Thomas turned and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him. His vision was blurred with tears, he couldn't see probably; using his hands to help him turn corners quicker, trying to remember the way back but also trying to just get away. Get safe.

Smack!

Two people fell backwards, including Thomas. "Watch it!" That was Gally.

"What are you doing over here? Where's Chuck?" That was Minho.

Gally got up first and offered a hand out to help him stand. He looked a mess, and his hand was covered in blood. "Chuck.. He.. I.." Thomas cleared his throat. "Follow me."

He lead the two back to the clearing, hoping he got the directions correct. They saw Chuck's body on the ground and Thomas ran to him, finding three numbers written in blood. Three, nine, and two.. The last numbers of the sequence. "Noo!" Thomas wailed, kneeling beside his body and leaning down to hug him. "Chuck, please! Wake up! You gotta wake up! We're gonna leave this maze together, remember? We made that promise! We promised!"

"Thomas we need to go."

"No! I can't leave him here!"

"Thomas, we have to go. Now!" Minho had to pull him away, holding him tightly by his good wrist until he started running at their pace and Minho let go.

By the time they returned, Thomas had stopped sobbing and just wanted to be left alone. He was already feeling riddled with guilt for leaving his body behind, he should have carried him back to the glade, have a proper burial like he deserved. "How did it go?" A medjack asked, seeing Thomas' arm and immediately going to tend to it. "Where's little Chuck?"

Thomas pushed him off and walked straight past everyone, going straight to where Newt lay and held his hand. "Newt please wake up, I need you right now. I need to know you're okay, I can't lose anyone else.. I can't."

Newt of course gave no answer, his body lying still. The fever had gone and his skin was back to normal, but like everybody else he'd lost a lot of blood and that was his current battle. All Thomas had to do was wait a little longer.

~*~

Three days had passed, and only about fix or six gladers hadn't woken up yet. Thomas had only eaten half an apple since they got back, and he hadn't left Newt's side either except for the toilet. His stomach growled and he felt sick because of it, but mourning over Chuck really threw off his appetite. He felt pathetic, showing everyone how he really felt on the inside.

He didn't run, he just sat. All day. Minho left him an apple and a bit of bread in the morning, in case he changed his mind, he didn't eat all day and that probably wasn't going to change until Newt woke up.

That took another day, almost the last to wake. Most people left him to it at this point, helping to rebuild the glade. A medjack came along to check on Newt's progress, but they were more worried about Thomas' health at this point. He'd starve soon if he wasn't careful.

Newt woke with a small groan, his hand moving inside Thomas' and his head turned to face him. He squeezed his eyes tightly before relaxing them, opening slowly and squinting a little until Thomas moved and blocked the sun. His eyes didn't look right, like they were glazed over. "Tommy?"

Thomas gave him a sad smile, picking up Newt's hand and kissing him palm. "How are you feeling? Do you want anything?"

"Just... you and some water." He looked at the roof over their heads, and frowned. "What happened?"

"The whole place was destroyed, so some of us made a make-do camp near the box. There's only about thirty of us left, maybe not even that, and we're slowly rebuilding it all.." Thomas trailed off. "We have the code now. It was on the Mourner's tail."

"Who got it? Are they okay?"

Thomas shook his head slowly. "We went out in partners, Chuck came with me, and..." He couldn't finish, shaking his head.

Newt lifted his other hand and caressed Thomas' cheek. "I'm really sorry that happened. He was a good kid.. I know you two were practically brothers."

He nodded. "At least you're okay though, I don't really know what I'd be doing if you died too."

Newt closed his eyes briefly. "I remember us.. Not much right now, but I'll explain later, it's still foggy. There is one thing I want to do now, though."

"And what's that?" He stroked Newt's hair, looking into his tired eyes.

"Kiss me.."

Thomas smiled and leant down, straddling his body. Their lips were mere centimetres apart, just taking in the moment. Then he closed the gap, pressing their lips together delicately, as if one of them would break if there was too much force.

It had been far too long since their first kiss when Thomas woke up, and now they just wanted to be together, reminiscing their time lost to injury and now mourning.

When Thomas pulled away, Newt was asleep again; a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.