Okay I know this is something everyone does but I'm really going to try to think about what this would have been like. Also, these are told from Newt's POV.

***Visiting Hans***

I was panting after climbing four flights of a rickety apartment building, my ankle more sore than ever. The woman who answered the door insisted she didn't know anyone named Hans but Jorge kept pushing. Finally, an old man with gray hair peeked over her shoulder. "Let them in," he said.

We all sat around a table that looked to be on its last legs. The man called Hans started, "It's good to see you're okay, Brenda. You too Jorge. But I'm not in the mood to catch up. Why don't you just tell me what you want." 

"I think you know why we're here," Brenda replied, nodding toward Tommy, Minho, and I. "But we also just heard that WICKED has put a bounty on your head. We need to hurry and do thins, and then you need to get out of here." 

The old man looked at us ad if he was scanning our brains. "You've still got the implants, do ya?"

Tommy answered, "I only want the controlling device out. I don't want my memories back." I know he's afraid of what he'll find out about himself. And I'm scared of what he'll find out about me. I rub my ankle absentmindedly as Tommy continues, "And I want to know how this operation works first."

Hans looked disgusted, "What kind of nonsense is this? Who's this week-kneed coward you brought to my place, Brenda?"

I clenched my fist in anger. Tommy grabbed my arm before he answered, "I'm not a coward. I've just had too many people in my head

Hans threw up his hands, then slapped the table. "Who said I'd do anything to your head? Who said I liked you enough for that?"

"Are there any nice people in Denver?" Minho muttered.

"You folks are about three seconds from being thrown out of my apartment."

"Everyone just shut up for a second!" Brenda shouted. She leaned toward Hans and spoke in a quieter voice. "Listen, this is important. Thomas is important, and WICKED will do just about anything to get their hands on him. We can't risk them getting close enough to start controlling him or Minho or Newt." 

Hans glared at Thomas. "Doesn't look important to me." He shook his head and stood up. "Give me five minutes to prep," he said, then walked out through a side door. 

The silence was too much for me to bear, "Well he was friendly."

"Yeah," Minho said and snickered. "You look scared Tommy."

"Don't forget, muchacho," Jorge said. "You're doing this, too. That gray-haired grandpa said five minutes, so get ready."

"The sooner, the better," Minho replied.

Tommy rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands like it was hurting.

"Thomas?" Brenda whispered. "You okay?"

He looked up. "I just need to—"

That's when things got crazy. Tommy shuttered violently as if a knife had sliced down his back. He sat straight up in his chair, his eyes showing confusion and fear. A spasm sent the kid's arms out straight and his legs kicking. His body twisted and he slid off the chair and collapsed to the floor, shaking. He yelled when his back slammed into the hard tile. Before I had even registered what had happened, Brenda and Minho were by his side, trying to calm him. I snapped out of my daze and tried to pin down his arms. 

"Can you hear me?" Brenda yelled, bending over him. "Thomas, what's wrong!" Then he froze.

Brenda's expression changed to horror. "Thomas?" 

He stood up and I could see his eyes lit with terror. Then the realization hit me: WICKED was controlling him.

"You okay?" Minho asked. 

I nudged Minho, "Look at his eyes, they're controlling him."

Tommy spoke as Minho realized it too, "I can't ... let you ... do this."

"Thomas, they've got you!" Brenda yelled. "Fight it!"

Tommy's hand pushed her face away, sent her tumbling to the floor.

Jorge moved to protect her but Tommy reached out and punched him in the chin with a quick jab. Jorge's head snapped back; a little spray of blood shot from his lip.

The boy spoke again, but I knew he didn't mean them, "I can't ... let you ... do this!" 

Brenda had gotten back to her feet. Minho stood dazed, his face a mask of confusion. Jorge was wiping the blood off his chin, his eyes lit with anger.

He started moving toward the door in lurching steps, shoving Minho out of the way. I scrambled over to him, but WICKED made him kick me hard in my bad leg, and I collapsed to the ground in pain.  As he stumbled past the kitchen counter, he reached out and grabbed a knife sitting by the sink. 

"Thomas!" Minho shouted, finally breaking out of his stupor. "Fight it, man! Get those shuck people out of your head!"

Thomas turned to face him, held the knife up. I knew he wouldn't do it. Even if someone was controlling him, he wouldn't kill one of his best friends.

"You gonna kill me, slinthead?" Minho asked. "Gonna throw that thing just like Gally did to Chuck? Do it, then. Throw it."

Tommy turned back around to face the opposite direction. Just as he did, Hans came through the doorway, and his eyes widened. 

"What the hell is this?" Hans asked.

"I can't ... let you ... do this," Thomas replied.

"I was worried about this," Hans murmured. He turned to the group. "You guys get over here and help!"

Minho and I looked at each other and nodded at each other. Tommy may be the one with telepathy, but after two bloody years with someone, you can tell what they're thinking. 

"I ca—" Before he could finish, Minho and I slammed into him from behind, knocking the knofe out of his hand.

We all crashed to the floor and Tommy twisted around and I saw his eyes flood with relief.

"I'm not letting you kill anybody," his Minho said.

"Get off me!" Tommy yelled.

"I'm not getting up until they let your mind go." Minho shouted 

"It won't stop until Hans fixes him," Brenda said. "Hans?"

The older man knelt down next to us. "I can't believe I ever worked for those people. For you." He almost spat the word, looking directly at Thomas.

"I can't let you do this!" Tommy screamed, fighting to get up.

"Shut up!" Minho shouted back, now in his face as he, Jorge, and I fought against Tommy's attempts to get free. "You're crazy, dude! They're making you crazy!"

Minho turned and yelled at Hans. "Let's get that thing out of his head!"

"No!" Tommy shouted. "No!" He twisted and flailed his arms, battled them with ferocious strength. But Brenda rushed forwards and we all grabbed one of his limbs with Hans leading the way.

They lifted him from the floor, carried him out of the kitchen into a short hallway and down its length as he kicked and squirmed, knocking several framed pictures off the walls. The sound of shattering glass followed them.

"In here!" Hans shouted after we battled Tommy through the hallway, leaving behind broken glass from picture frames.

We struggled into a small, cramped lab with two instrument-filled tables and a bed. A crude-looking version of the mask they'd seen back at WICKED hung over the mattress.

"Get him on the bed!" Hans yelled. "I need to knock him out."

For some reason, this made me think of forever ago when Tommy and I had held down Alby when WICKED made him try to strangle himself. These people are sick.

There was the clatter and clanging of Hans going through a drawer, searching for something; then he was back, "Hold him as still as possible!"

WICKED made one last attempt to get the boy free.

"Hold him still, dammit!" Hans shouted.

Hans stuck Tommy's leg and his body finally stilled. everyone waited a few seconds before letting go. Tommy's chest rose in steady breaths and he said,  "I hate those shucks."

"I bloody do to." I said.

"Well," Hans said. "Now that that's done which one of you gentlemen would like to go next?"

Minho and I looked at each other. After seeing what WICKED can make us do, there's no way I'm waiting another second. Minho was thinking the same think I guess since we said the same thing at the same time, "Me."

Hey! Sorry this one's so long but I just had so much to write.