[A/N]

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, this weekend was really eventful - I SAW FALL OUT BOY.

This is really short and unedited, I am sorry.

~ lexi

****

Newt sits by himself tonight, like all nights, leaning on a fallen piece of tree, back facing the rest of the Gladers. He can hear the excited shouts and yells from the group of boys around him, but he doesn't try to participate. He can't, even if he wanted to. So he takes small nibbles of meat, and sips quietly at Gally's disgusting drink that he's pretty sure is just piss. Inside, he feels... sad.

Newt frowns. It's odd, he's done this every single night for three years, but today he feels extremely lonely and left out.

"Um," a voice emerges above him, "Can I sit?"

He turns his head up to the direction of the voice. It's a new voice to him, so he recognizes it immediately. "Sure."

Newt hears Thomas shuffle down next to him, and feels the cloth of his clothes against his. Newt tries to keep his face stiff as he wonders why Thomas has sat so closely to him.

"How's your first day been?" He asks, to fill the uncomfortable silence.

Thomas turns to look at him, eyes lingering a little longer than they should. "Oh, it's been okay. I mean, it kinda hard to compare to any other day when you can't remember one."

Newt lets out a small, forced chuckle. He can hear the fear in Thomas's voice, and he feels pity, but knows that the pity Thomas has for him trumps it. He can hear the familiarity in his voice, too, which is strange, but he puts that aside.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Thomas says nervously, "I didn't mean to, y'know..."

Newt shakes his head, smiling. "Don't worry about it, that was kinda the most exciting thing that's happened to me in a while. No fun being blind."

He says this jokingly, but there's a lingering sour after taste to his words.

"Oh..." Thomas is still looking at Newt, eyes studying the boy in front of him, "have you always been, like, not able to see?"

"You can say blind, it doesn't really bother me," Newt says, a bit angrily, "and no, been blind ever since I've come up from the box. But I know that I've been able to see before."

"How?"

Newt turns his head to the direction of Thomas. He shifts uncomfortably because of Newt's gaze as it looks as if he was staring directly through him.

"I've never told anyone this but, sometimes I remember things," Newt says softly, a frown on his face, "and it's always about this... boy. I don't know who he is, but his face is all I remember. I knew him, and I've seen him before."

Thomas merely breaks into a smile. "Maybe you'll get your vision back some day, and you'll find him."

Newt nods. "Maybe."

But Newt knows that he has already.

Because there was something about Thomas's voice, the way Newt feels as if he has finally come home.