[ no, thomas is crap at being comforting and everyone who's ever met him knows that, but he tries, at least. the best he does is try to simply be there, for whatever's needed. unfortunately, sometimes he talks, and then disasters tend to follow, it's just a rule of nature. for whatever reason, his friends haven't seemed to kick him to the curb yet, so maybe being himself is all he can do. ]
Not even a little? Don't lie. [ he snorts, joking, while newt makes room for him. the conversation's far from pleasant, but thomas hasn't ever been the type to search out nicer topics when something else is more obvious. he is tired, the more he's sitting on the soft, real bed under him, considering it. ]
Pretty sure you'd electrocute anyone who sneaks in here to kill us. [ but it'd be a lie to say he wasn't braced for the very real possibility of it. they removed the tracer from their minds, but considering all the resources WICKED has, they could fool them with anything. the idea of it wears on his mind, and thomas sighs, trying to chase it out. this has been what's made sleep impossible so far. ] Just can't stop thinking.
[ shifting around, he moves to lay down shoulder to shoulder with newt instead, staring up at the ceiling. the closeness is far from new - they slept huddled up in the deserts of the Scorch, in the homestead in the glade when they'd shudder together in the night, after the doors stopped closing, waiting for the inevitable horror. Yeah, that thought's not going to help him sleep either. But back to the present - the skew between what the both of them remember. Completely separate events, people and places and names the same, newt still newt, but an escape from WICKED into the Scorch? a woman telling them he'd started the rebellion before being put into the maze at all? more puzzles, more impossible things for his mind to chew and chew and chew on. ] This whole place. Nothing makes sense.
no subject
Not even a little? Don't lie. [ he snorts, joking, while newt makes room for him. the conversation's far from pleasant, but thomas hasn't ever been the type to search out nicer topics when something else is more obvious. he is tired, the more he's sitting on the soft, real bed under him, considering it. ]
Pretty sure you'd electrocute anyone who sneaks in here to kill us. [ but it'd be a lie to say he wasn't braced for the very real possibility of it. they removed the tracer from their minds, but considering all the resources WICKED has, they could fool them with anything. the idea of it wears on his mind, and thomas sighs, trying to chase it out. this has been what's made sleep impossible so far. ] Just can't stop thinking.
[ shifting around, he moves to lay down shoulder to shoulder with newt instead, staring up at the ceiling. the closeness is far from new - they slept huddled up in the deserts of the Scorch, in the homestead in the glade when they'd shudder together in the night, after the doors stopped closing, waiting for the inevitable horror. Yeah, that thought's not going to help him sleep either. But back to the present - the skew between what the both of them remember. Completely separate events, people and places and names the same, newt still newt, but an escape from WICKED into the Scorch? a woman telling them he'd started the rebellion before being put into the maze at all? more puzzles, more impossible things for his mind to chew and chew and chew on. ] This whole place. Nothing makes sense.