Pain.

Pain is all Thomas felt in that instant. 

He didn't know if it was from the gunshot wound he had, the one his friends were tending or the realization that he had just killed not one, but two of the people he loved the most.

Teresa, even though she had betrayed them multiple times, he still loved her as a sister and she had just died for him.

Newt.

That name swam through his mind, bringing with it a smiling face that turned into what his face looked like right before-

Thomas shut his eyes tight, as though that would stop his mind from showing him what he had done. 

It didn't.

His stupid mind showed his last moments with the love of his life, as he stabbed him in the chest. 

He vaguely heard his friends tell him to stay with them.

Stay with them? Why?

Why stay when he could go and be with Newt?

Why would they even want him to stay? Especially after all the deaths he caused.

Maybe he should have never lead them out of the maze, maybe he never should have even survived that night when he ran in.

Now he was starting to understand why Newt had tried what he did.

Maybe he should, too.

But then he thought of how Newt wouldn't be happy, how Teresa would scold him, how Chuck and Alby would be disappointed. He thought of how Minho would feel if he lost both his best friends, how Brenda would feel if she lost another brother figure, how everyone would most likely blame themselves.

He just couldn't put them through anymore pain.

Pain.

Such a funny concept, really.

One moment you feel it, one moment you don't.

Because a moment before, Thomas felt like he was dying from all the pain, and now he doesn't feel anything.

Just numbness.

Numbness and loneliness.

He knew he wasn't alone. He could still feel the bandages wrapping around his torso, his friends hands gripping on to him in a silent way of saying 'we're here'.

He just hoped they wouldn't think he's a monster, a murderer for what he's done. He knows he is, he just doesn't want them to think of him the way he does.

He feels guilty, feeling like he should have known he was the cure. If he had known, maybe he would have Newt sitting beside him, whispering reassurances into his ear. 

Maybe he would have time to confess what he should have done for a long time. Maybe he should've-

So many regrets plagued his thoughts, so many things he wished he had done differently, so the outcome was to have everyone alive. So so many...

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, memories of the boy with blonde hair and a limp flashed behind his closed eye lids. Happy memories, sad memories and everything in between.

He just wished he had a few more minutes, at least, to tell him, to talk to him one more time.

Distantly, he felt himself being lifted off the floor of the Berg and onto a stretcher. 

His friends' hands left his arms, and he desperately wanted to reach out and grab one of them, but his arms refused to cooperate, staying limply laid at his side.

He tried to speak, call out to Minho, Brenda, anyone, and his lips parted, but her couldn't find his voice.

He just hoped one had stayed by his side, as he fell into unconsciousness. 

Minho had. Thomas didn't know it, but Minho had stayed by his side the whole time. He refused to leave, even fighting some men who tried to get him to.

He stayed as the Med-jacks bandaged his wound better than the one from the Berg.

He stayed even as the people left.

He stayed for three days, barely eating, never sleeping.

The others tried to get him to leave, but he couldn't.

On the third day though, Aris had managed to get him out, to have a bit of food. 

As he was finishing his plate, he looked up to see his only remaining best friend stepping out of the hut he had occupied. 

Minho stood up slowly, setting his plate down and walking over as Thomas saw him, moving closer.

The two stopped for a moment as they reached one another, staring at each other with a look of understanding, both realizing now that their trio was down to two.

Needing comfort from the one of the only other people who had been with him from the start, Thomas stepped forward, bringing Minho into a much needed hug.

"Looks like it's just us now, huh shank?" Minho muttered as they pulled away from the hug.

The other boy sighed. "Yeah...just us."

"And us," Brenda said, walking over, trying to get rid of the sad atmosphere. She motioned to Fry, Gally and Jorge, all of whom were following behind her. "You've still got us," she spoke slightly quieter that time.

"Yeah, we still got you guys." Thomas gave a small smile, the first anyone has seen in a while.

What they didn't know...is that...

I'm evil and am going to give them more stuff to be sad about.

JK JK that was a joke..maybe.

Anyway, this is part one.