The first memory Thomas could clearly remember, was waking up in the darkness. The only thing he knew for certain, was his own name, and even that took a moment to come to him. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the darkness, his prison slowly rising to some unknown location. He had no way to measure the time passing around him. After what felt like an entire lifetime, he finally came to a stop, and the only sounds he could hear was his own racing heart and terrified panting.

A minute passed. Two. He felt all around the walls, but there was no escape. No hidden door or window, nothing but cool metal. He groaned in frustration; the echo amplified through the air around him. He pounded the walls with his fists and screamed for help. "Someone... please... help me!" Each word ripped his throat raw.

A loud clank above him had him jumping back against the wall, sucking in a startled breath as he looked up. A narrow line of light appeared straight down the centre of the ceiling, and Thomas watched, fascinated and terrified in one, as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in the darkness, the light stabbed his eyes and he looked away, covering his face with his hands. He heard noises, voices above him, and fear squeezed his chest tightly.

Thomas listened to the voices, the sounds, but paid no attention to what they were saying; more intent on slowly filtering more light through his fingers so his eyes could adjust to the change quicker. He slowly lowered his hands and squinted towards the light and those speaking. At first he could see only shadows, blurring into rough body shapes, people bending over to look and point at him.

Then, as if a lens had suddenly sharpened its focus; the world snapped into focus, and the faces cleared. He looked up at countless boys surrounding him, and felt a mixture of terror and curiosity. He swung his head back and forth and tried to meet the eyes of the other boys, desperately hoping for some sort of acknowledgement, some kind of recognition. But there was none.

Someone lowered a rope from above, the end of it tied into a big loop. Thomas hesitated, before backing away, frowning at the innocent rope as if they were offering him a noose as opposed to a potential exit. He heard several boys begin to laugh, but he stubbornly held his place and tried to arrange his face into a glare, hoping to appear at least a little braver than he felt.

"You thinkin' you can make your own way outta there, Greenie?" A scratchy voice called mockingly, though Thomas couldn't tell where or who it originated from. He scanned the crowd slowly, tilting his chin up in defiance as he refused to answer for as long as possible. "Take the shuck rope!"

"I'm good thanks," Thomas called back, surprised that his voice came out so even when he felt such a tornado of emotions inside himself. He glanced around the gathered boys above him once more. "I think I'm probably happier down here just now, thanks and all." Even he could tell the words were ridiculous as he said them, but the boys laughed loudly at his comment, clearly amused by his defiance. It was clear he had nowhere to go and would eventually have to accept their help, but for whatever reason, he felt he needed to make his stand.

"What, you wanna klunk your pants before you get out?" The scratchy voice taunted. Thomas frowned, the words both familiar and not at the same time.

"Maybe I just don't wanna have to smell you up close." Thomas said, though in truth he couldn't smell anything other than the stale air around him, slowly being replaced with the fresher air from outside. He heard a few guffaws and titters of laughter, and could sense in the air the mixture of irritation and amusement above him.

"Shut your shuck-face, Greenie shank!" The scratchy voice shouted, a boy shoving his way through some of the others to stand on the edge of the prison that held Thomas. He pointed towards Thomas, his eyes filled with anger as he glared menacingly. The boy had shortly cropped dark hair, and a distrusting expression. "Get your shuck, sissy-pants up here!"

Thomas tried to force out a weak laugh, but all that came out was a faint huff. He folded his arms over his chest and tried to seem unaffected by the other boys attitude. The other boy lowered his arm and ran a hand over his short hair, seemingly attempting to calm himself. "You're sure you ain't gonna come quietly, shank?" He asked, and Thomas pretended to think about it, before he shook his head. The other boy grinned suddenly, and Thomas felt his stomach drop, as he registered his mistake.

"Well ok then, shank." The scratchy voiced boy said. "I'm gonna enjoy this." He added, before hopping lightly to the lower lip of the doors. With a couple more well placed jumps, he lowered himself into the prison. Thomas lowered his arms quickly, stumbling to the floor as he tried to escape the other boy in his limited surroundings. The dark haired boy landed on the ground just ahead of him, crouching low over him as he frowned down at him. "Day one Greenie." He said quietly, a dark grin slowly blossoming across his face as he tangled his fists in Thomas's T-shirt. "Rise and shine." He chuckled, before yanking Thomas to his feet.

The dark haired boy grabbed the rope, and immediately, Thomas felt himself rise into the air. He reluctantly clung to the other boy, not relishing the idea of falling back into the prison rapidly descending behind him. The other boy was pulled to his feet, and immediately threw Thomas to the ground, where he rolled to his back and gazed around the many faces gathered around him. The other boys all jeered and laughed, as they pointed down at him on the ground.

He twisted himself on the floor, trying to escape the cage of the other boys legs around him, scrambling backwards on his elbows. His breath came in short bursts, his heart racing as he tried desperately to get away. Finding a break in the boys legs, he shoved himself backwards and turned, stumbling to his feet and setting off at a rapid sprint. He gasped as he ran, hearing the laughs and taunts of the other boys as he ran as fast and as far as he could. He would have continued to run, if he hadn't hit a rock and tripped, rolling across the hard stone floor painfully.

He grunted as he pushed himself to his elbows, his breath escaping him in a sudden rush, as he finally noticed the huge grey walls ahead of him. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, gradually turning in a slow circle to take in the sight of the tall walls on all sides. His head twisted this way and that, barely noticing the group of boys still stood watching him with loud hollers from their now far away position behind him. He lowered his eyes to the far wall, where there was an opening in the wall, though it sent a chill down his spine. It looked like a large jaw, stretched wide and ready to devour anyone who foolishly stepped inside.

Now he was out of the moving prison, there was an abundance of new sensations; the wind on his skin, the voices around him, the sense of unending curiosity, underlined with the faint traces of fear. He stood, gathering his thoughts and trying to catch his breath, staring at the dark opening in the wall with a sense of foreboding heavy in his heart.

He was startled by a hand landing on his shoulder, and he jerked away from it with a light jump. A dark-skinned boy frowned at him, lowering his arm to fold over his chest. He appeared to be around seventeen, wearing normal clothes; a dark T-shirt, jeans, trainers and a digital watch. For some reason it surprised Thomas, this sense of normality with the clothing; it seemed more like everyone should be in something more menacing, like stripey prison garb perhaps. The boy had closely cropped dark hair, his face clean shaven but wearing a permanent scowl.

The next few minutes were a blur. Thomas knew he spoke, he vaguely remembered being answered, but he didn't recollect actually asking or hearing the replies; only knew that he knew what they were. He felt his frustration rise, desperately just wishing the blankness in his mind would clear and he could remember something, anything about why he was sent to this confusing place.

They walked a way around the Glade, as the boy called it, but when offered the chance to shake his hand; Thomas refused, some instinct taking over is actions as without saying anything more he turned away and walked to the nearest tree. There he leaned against the bark, and allowed himself to slip to the ground with a sigh. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his thoughts whirling though his mind. Panic began to swell within him, almost too much to bear. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to try and accept the situation. Although the dark-skinned boy with the permanent scowl had done nothing to set his mind at ease, seemingly unwilling to answer any simple questions with anything other than a vaguely threatening non-answer, he knew there must be a reason; and if there weren't well, there were plenty of other boys to ask his questions of.

After one such outburst from the dark-skinned boy, Thomas saw a blond coming up behind the him, playfully slapping him across the head. "Wait for the bloody tour Alby," the boy said, his voice thick with an odd accent. He watched Thomas from the corner of his eyes, though he was facing the other boy, Alby. "Kid's gonna have a buggin' heart attack, nothin' even been heard yet." The newcomer turned toward Thomas fully, bending down slightly as he extended his hand towards where Thomas sat. "Name's Newt, Greenie, and we'd be right cheery if ya'd forgive out klunk-for-brains leader here."

Thomas hesitated, his eyes flicking to the boy who moments ago he had refused to shake hands with. After only a second of internal debate, he slowly reached out and took the blond's hand in his own, shaking it firmly. He would forever deny that he had wanted to keep hold of that hand, that he had wanted to beg the boy for answers which the other boy, Alby he recalled was his name, seemed utterly intent on refusing him.

"Pipe it, shuck-face," Alby grumbled, tugging for Newt to sit beside him. Thomas noticed the easy familiarity between the two, and felt his curiosity peak. How long had these two known each other? How long had any of them? "At least he can understand half my words." The dark skinned boy teased, lightly jabbing the blond in the arm as Newt flopped to the ground into an undignified heap.

Thomas was ashamed to admit to himself that he missed most of what Alby said next, too intent as he was on discreetly examining the blond closer. When he was standing, it had appeared Newt was taller than Alby, though he also appeared younger. He had blond hair which he clearly didn't cut either often or neatly, seeing as it cascaded messily over the top of his shoulders and T-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms. Thomas swallowed, and noticed Alby was pausing in his speech. Sensing an opportunity to make it seem he had not been staring at one of the other boys quite so intently, he immediately launched into asking a question.

"Who sent me here?" He felt the angry bite of his words, and tried to shrug the anger away, trying to make it plain to the other boys gathered that his frustration and anger wasn't aimed at them. "How'd-"

However, Alby cut off his attempt to discover what was happening, the dark-skinned boy leaned forward on his knees, grabbing Thomas by the shirt. "Get up, shank! Get up!"Alby growled, standing and pulling Thomas with him, despite the noiret's attempts to struggle away. He managed to back into the tree behind him, but Alby remained in his face, glowering angrily at him. "No interruptions boy!" Alby shouted. "Whacker, if we told you everything, you'd die on the spot! Right after you klunked your pants. Baggers'd drag you off, and you ain't no good to us then, are ya?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" Thomas finally cried, shoving Alby's hand from his shirt and forcing his back away from the tree, sick of feeling like some disappointing child being scolded. He stood straight and glared at Alby, who was about to take a menacing step towards him, when a hand that was connected to a heavily muscled, thickly veined arm, pressed against his shoulder.

"Alby," Newt said calmly, stepping between the two. "Lay off a bit. You're hurtin' more than helpin', ya know?"

Alby finally stepped away, wrenching his shoulder from Newt's grasp. "Ain't got time to be nice." The dark skinned boy murmured to the blond, before scowling over at Thomas. "Old life's over, new life's begun. Learn the rules quick. Listen, don't talk. You get me?" He spat, seemingly furious with Thomas just for asking questions that sure he himself had asked, at one time or another. Thomas glanced at Newt, hoping for help when he met the blond's eyes, as he looked back at Thomas over his shoulder.

"You get him, right Greenie?" Newt nodded lightly and Thomas copied the gesture, mumbling his assent as he averted his eyes. He wanted to punch someone, to scream, to rage at them for treating him like such a baby about things they had clearly experienced themselves, but he didn't. He kept his eyes lowered, and waited for the sounds of the others leaving to die down. He felt a hand clap him on the shoulder, and he looked up in surprise, meeting Newt's calm gaze immediately.

"Greenie, we've all felt what you're feelin'. We've all had First Day, all come outta that dark box." Newt said quietly, steering him by the shoulder to sit against the tree again, before sitting beside him. "Things are bad, they are; and they'll get much worse for ya soon, that's the truth. But down the road a piece, you'll be fightin' true and good. I can tell you're not a bloody sissy."

Thomas gave a startled laugh, amused despite his mounting frustration. He opened his mouth, about to ask the blond as much as he could, but no words escaped him. His eyes raked over the boy before him, who grinned knowingly at him, and slowly he came to understand the boys amusement. "You aren't going to answer anything I ask you, are you?" He finally asked Newt, who laughed.

"You learn quick you, don't ya, Greenie?" Newt joked lightheartedly, looking moderately impressed that Thomas had worked it out at all. He smiled genuinely at the noiret, and Thomas felt something in his stomach flutter at the wholesome expression. He smiled weakly himself, unable to contain the motion as much as he tried. Perhaps it was the other boys genuine honesty, in so far as he openly admitted he wouldn't tell him anything, or the lack of malice in his eyes when he looked at Thomas, but whatever it was told him that this was a boy he could trust. This boy, while not always willing to tell him things before it was necessary, would never outright lie to him; and he felt it in his very bones, that he would reciprocate the gesture.

"Listen," Newt began, pausing a moment as if uncertain whether he should continue. After a moment of scrutiny, he grinned, seemingly shaking off his indifference. "That was some dash earlier. Ya know, for a second then, I almost thought you had the chops to be a runner..." Newt threw Thomas a sly smile, almost laughing as he jostled him lightly with his foot. "Til ya face-planted." Newt laughed, and Thomas was half tempted to himself, feeling the lighthearted joke for what it was. But his curiosity spiked, and he found himself unable to lose himself in the pleasant feeling of acceptance until he clarified he had heard right."

"Wait, w-" Thomas felt his brow pinch together, trying to understand all the familiar, yet unfamiliar words. "Runner?" He asked, watching as Newt threw him a withering halfhearted glare. Thomas couldn't contain his laughter this time, the frustration of the situation melting away as he realized he had already been told he wouldn't be given any straight answers. He continued to chuckle lightly, his head tilting back against the tree as he rested his already tired eyes.

"Chuck'll be a good fit for ya." Newt said suddenly, as if shaking himself out of a trance. Thomas lowered his gaze, watching as Newt eyed him through narrowed eyes, clearly thinking about something. "Wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all's said and done. Stay here, I'll be back." He said, gesturing towards where Thomas sat with his chin. No sooner had the words left his mouth however, than a piercing shriek ripped through the peaceful quiet of the Glade, causing even the blond to jump as if startled, his forehead creasing in a mix of concern and frustration.

"Shuck it," he said. "Can't the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin' my help?" He shook his head as he got to his feet. Once standing, he nudged Thomas's foot with his own, grinning down at him, though he was clearly still worried about whatever had caused the loud shriek. "Find Chuckie, tell him he's in charge of your sleepin' arrangements."

"Do you need any help..?" Thomas offered quickly, scrambling to his feet. He didn't particularly want to go anywhere near whatever was making the awful screams, but he also felt that so far, Newt had been the friendliest of those who he'd spoken to, and he wasn't keen on losing his new... acquaintance, so quickly. He may also have a small desire for the other boy to like him, not that he would ever admit it. Newt looked surprised for a moment, before he easily smoothed his face into a genuine grin.

"Shuck, ya a sweet one Greenie, but don't worry about it for now." Newt said gently, nudging him again, this time with his loose fist into Thomas's shoulder. "You just go ahead and find ol' Chuckie like I said. I'll come check on ya later, see how your settlin' in." And then he turned, heading in the direction of the building-like shack on the opposite side of the Glade. Thomas watched Newt run, leaning back against the tree and slowly allowing himself to slip down its rough bark until he sat once more. Only once Newt had entirely disappeared from his view, did he allow his eyes to close, half wishing he could wake up from whatever terrible nightmare he was trapped inside of; half thinking that Newt looked just as handsome from the back as he appeared from the front.

He was only left to his own amusement for a short while, before the sounds of someone scuffling nearby had his attention finally shifting away from the haggard building which Newt had run into. A short pudgy kid was coming around his tree, and he plopped to the ground before Thomas. He appeared to be the youngest he'd seen so far, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, with brown hair which curled around his ears and neck, just barely scraping the tops of his shoulders. Blue eyes shone through a pitiful face, flabby and flushed.

The boy appeared about to speak, when another scream tore through the air. The sound was long and tormented, and caused Thomas's heart to lurch. "What's going on in there?" He asked the boy, gesturing towards the shack with his chin, his eyes searching the upper windows for signs of movement.

"Don't know," the chubby kid replied; his voice still carrying the high pitch of childhood. "Ben's in there, sicker than a dog. They got him."

"They?" Thomas finally looked away from the shack, focusing on the clearly uncomfortable boy. He didn't like the malicious way the boy had said the word, it made his skin prickle as if ants were crawling over him.

"Yeah." The boy said, clearly hoping Thomas would drop it if he didn't elaborate.

"Who are they?" Thomas asked, feeling frustrated that he was being treated like an idiot child who didn't know what was best for himself. He frowned, unable to picture any mother to scold him, yet somehow imagining that one would, if this scenario were to play out with them.

"Better hope you never find out," the kid said with an air of dismissal, holding his hand out in a clear attempt to change the subject. "My name's Chuck, I was the GreenBean until you showed up." Thomas frowned, annoyance and frustration combining into an extreme discomfort that he just couldn't shake. He couldn't help but wonder why Newt had been so adamant that this kid would be 'a good match' for him. Nothing made sense, his head hurt.

"Why is everyone calling me Greenie?" He asked, shaking Chuck's hand quickly, then letting go.

"Cuz you're the newest newbie." Chuck laughed, as if the answer were obvious. "It's basically the same for all of us. We wake up in the box, Alby gives us the Tour, then here we are." Chuck explained, making the entire brain-hurting situation sound like the simplest of children's stories. Thomas was almost impressed by the way he both gave him answers, and didn't all at once. "Don't worry, you're already doin' better'n I did. I klunked my pants three times before they got me outta the pit." Chuck laughed, just as another scream came from the house, like a starving animal being tortured.

"How can you be laughing?" Thomas asked after a long and quiet moment of contemplation. He was horrified by the noise, but just as much by the young boys clear indifference to it. "It sounds like someone's dying in there..." He shook his head, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands as he tried to understand the crazy situation he was in.

"He'll be ok, nobody dies if they make it back in time to get the Serum." Chuck said, and though he still seemed overall to be indifferent of the screaming, he averted his eyes as if uncomfortable with the subject. "It's all or nothing. Dead or not dead. Just hurts a lot."

Thomas decided not to ask what 'hurt a lot,' half expecting that he wouldn't get a straight answer anyway. Chuck rolled his eyes, almost as if he could hear his skeptical thoughts.

Thomas pushed to his feet, unable to sit and do nothing while feeling such a jumble of confusing emotions writhing within him. He walked past Chuck, who scrambled to his feet and trotted to keep up, as Thomas walked slowly towards the shack where the screams had emanated from. As he moved across the courtyard, the distinct smell of firewood and some kind of meat cooking made his stomach grumble. He wondered vaguely when the last time he ate had been.

"Hey, hey Greenie," Chuck called from behind, sounding out of breath. "What's your name?"

"What?"

"Your name," Chuck repeated. "You haven't told us yet, and I know remember that much.

"It's Thomas." He said slowly, barely even hearing the words escape him. If Chuck was right, then this was a link; a common ground between himself and everyone else in this confusing place. They all remembered their names. But only the first, for some reason, everything else had been erased from them. His mind whirled, wanting to find some secret the other boys hadn't spotted through this connection, but unable to see anything other than a bunch of kids with no past, and an unknown future, judging from the screams he had heard earlier.

"Nice to meet you, Thomas," Chuck said, oblivious of Thomas's internal turmoil. "Don't you worry, I'll take care of you. I been here a whole month, and I know this place inside and out. You can count on ol' Chuck, ok?"

"Except if I want answers," Thomas murmured distractedly, pausing outside the shack to tilt his head back and look up at the windows above him. He was surprised by the sudden rush of anger that swept through him. He clenched his hands into fists and looked down at Chuck. "You can't even tell me anything. I wouldn't call that taking care of me." He turned away from the boy, not sure where his new sense of courage and resolve had come from but resolutely determined not to feel bad for his frustration. If they had all been through what he had, then why did they not understand why he wanted to know things?

"Nothin' I say'll do you any good, I'm basically still a newbie too." He said, shrugging his shoulders before smiling up at him. "But I can be your friend."

Thomas bit down on his tongue hard, frustrated with himself as much as the other boy when his initial reaction was to lash out at him. He shook his head lightly and pulled open the door to the shack, revealing several stoic faced boys at the foot of a crooked staircase. "Hey look, its the GreenBean," one of the older boys called out. With a start, Thomas realized it was the dark haired boy who had forcibly yanked him out of the box. He looked like he was fifteen or so, tall and moderately muscular. Still Thomas felt his uneasiness of the boy dwindle the longer he was around him. "This shank probably klunked his pants when he heard lil ol' Benny baby scream like a girl. Need a clean nappy, shuck-face?"

"My name is Thomas." He said dryly, before heading for the stairs, hoping to get away from the guy. He had no idea where they led, but he also had no clue what else to say, so he just wanted to get away as fast as he could. However, the bully stepped into his path, blocking his escape.

"Hold on there, Greenie," he said, jerking his thumb up the stairs over his shoulder. "Newbies aren't allowed to see someone whose been... taken. Newt and Alby won't allow it."

"Dude, what the hell is your problem?" Thomas sighed, a headache forming from having to deal with the boy who seemed to hate him so much already. "I don't even know where the hell I am, why I'm here or how I even got here; wherever here is." He ran a hand through his hair, noting absently that it felt like it was shorter than Chuck's, and straight instead of curling, though that could be from the dampness after his earlier sprint. "I just want some help man, and for people who have all been through this yourselves already; you all seem hellbent on making it a thousand times harder for me to wrap my head around it all. But you... You got a special problem, don't you?" Thomas surprised himself, not having planned to say half of what he had. His overall frustration had leaked through, and he had said things as they came to him. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, peeking up at the other boy sheepishly.

"You're right." The boy said, clicking his tongue as he narrowed his eyes at Thomas. "Listen up, Greenie," the boy said, leaning closer so the others wouldn't overhear. Thomas wasn't sure if this was to allow him some privacy, or to save the other boy embarrassment. He suspected the latter. "I've seen you before. Something's fishy about you showing up here, and I'm gonna figure out what."

A surge of heat pulsed through Thomas, the irrational irritation of being accused of something, yet having no idea what; nor why. "I-" He paused, the retort that he had never seen the other boy in his life, dying on his tongue. What if he had, and just couldn't remember? Who was he to say who he had seen in his life, perhaps he was from this place, and had been erased for a time to see how people reacted to his return. But, that seemed far-fetched. He felt the pain in his head escalate, and he shook it as if to shake the very thoughts from it. "I have no idea who you are, and I couldn't care less." He spat, frustrated with the entire situation.

The bully sniggered, as if Thomas had told some great joke, before his face became serious again, his brow creasing into a heavy frown. "I've... seen you, shank. Not too many in these parts can say they've been stung." He gestured over his shoulder once more, up the stairs behind him. "I have. I know what ol' Benny's going through. I saw you during the Changing." He stepped forward, reaching out to poke Thomas in the chest as he whispered menacingly. "And I bet your first meal from Frypan; Benny'll say he's seen you too."

Thomas said nothing, feeling the panic drain the blood from his face but unable to do anything about it. He forced himself to meet the other boys eyes with a glare, frustrated that things only seemed to be getting more confusing, with no sign of any answers coming his way.

"Ready to wet yourself now?" The boy sneered, grinning an awful grimace of a grin. "Little scared now? Don't wanna get stung, do ya?"

Thomas frowned at the repetition of the word; stung. He didn't want to think about what could sting anyone badly enough to cause the screams he had heard earlier. He glanced up the stairs over the boys shoulder, before meeting his eyes steadily once more. "If Newt went up there, then I wanna go. I wanna talk to him."

"Got yourself a boyfriend already, have ya?" The boy sniggered, obviously finding himself hilarious.

Thomas felt his brows rise, surprised that the accusation didn't bother him. Was he even into boys? Had he had boyfriends before? What the boy had though was an insult, merely opened Thomas's mind to yet more things he hadn't even considered since he'd been dragged out of the box. "Maybe I just think he's the only one here who isn't an asshole." He said blandly, causing some of the other boys to muffle their laughter, as the boy in his way glared at him.

"You know what?" The boy asked, shaking his head with his brows raised, as if he had suddenly realized he was indeed being an asshole. "You're right, Greenie. I shouldn't have been so mean to the Newbie. Go on upstairs, I'm sure Alby and Newt can fill you in." He stepped out of Thomas's way, gesturing towards the stairs. If it weren't for his obviously insincere tone, Thomas might not have felt the bottom of his stomach drop. He might have lost his memory, but that didn't make him an idiot. The guy was up to something.

"What's your name?" He asked, stalling for time as he slowly stepped towards the stairs, though all he wanted was to leave and wait back by his tree for Newt to return.

"Gally." The boy replied, smiling for the first time, though it didn't meet his eyes. Thomas's stomach turned.

"Ok then..." Thomas said slowly, stepping onto the first step. He exaggerated a salute, knowing it was crossing a line but not caring anymore as his gut churned with so many conflicting emotions. "Captain Gally, sir."

More sniggers escaped the other boys, and Gally glared around him, turning a bright red as he turned back to Thomas, hatred in his eyes.

"Just get up there," he spat with a sneer. "And stay the shuck away from me, you little slinthead." Thomas saluted again, much more mockingly than he had originally; and with a cheeky grin to match. He immediately turned and trotted up the stairs, feeling a burst of adrenaline from his defiance. He fully expected this moment to bite him in the ass sometime in the future, but he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself for not backing down. He half wished he had never come inside, but, he did want to talk to that Newt guy, so he pressed on up the rickety stairs.

When he finally reached the landing, there was only one door with light beneath it. He took a deep breath and tried to throw out all thoughts of Gally for the time being, focusing instead on his desire to speak with Newt. However, that brought back Gally's attempted insult about picking a boyfriend, which made his stomach churn for a whole different reason. He wasn't sure why, but the words made him flush with warmth.

Shaking his head to clear the foolish line of thought trying to wheedle into his mind, he approached the lit door. Each step closer he took, filled him with a sense of dread which left a bad taste in the back of his throat. His hand rose to the brass handle, but he couldn't bring himself to turn it, his heart racing as he imagined all sorts of horrible things hidden just the other side of the door. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to banish the images from his mind. He swallowed hard, before his eyes opened, and he turned the handle; quietly pushing the door open.

Newt and Alby were crouched over someone lying on a bed, and Thomas leaned through the doorway, about to announce his presence, when his eyes drifted to the other person, and he instead had to fight against the bile trying to rise in his throat. He immediately averted his gaze, but it was enough for the sight to haunt him for the rest of his life; no matter how long it would be.

A twisted pale figure, writhing in agony beneath Newt and Alby's restraining hands. Tight rigid cords of sickly green veins webbed across the boys body and limbs, while purplish bruises, red hives and bloody scratches adorned his bare chest. His eyes were bloodshot, frantically darting back and forth between the two boys holding him down on the bed. Newt looked over his shoulder at him, and his exasperated glare was enough to make Thomas feel ashamed for having come in at all. However, it was Alby who jumped in Thomas's way; shoving him from the room. Thomas had a bare glimpse of Newt's almost apologetic expression, before the door was slammed shut between them.

"What're you doing up here, Greenie?" Alby demanded, his lips taut with anger; his eyes ablaze with it.

"I, uh-" Thomas felt weak, his earlier desires to speak with Newt seeming suddenly not so urgent in the light of what they had been dealing with. "I wanted some answers."He said, though he couldn't put any real strength into the words. He drew in a deep breath, trying to recapture some of the earlier fire and defiance he had felt. He found the dregs, and gathered them all eagerly. "You say you've been through all this yourselves, but you won't tell me anything. Surely you must know that's even worse than if you had nothing to tell me? I'm not asking for a lot here, just... I wanted to talk to someone. I want to understand. Not knowing is driving me more crazy than the fact that all this has even happened." Thomas explained in a rush, as if concerned that should he stop he might lose the words entirely.

Alby stared at him for a moment, seeming genuinely surprised. His expression morphed to thoughtful, before rushing back to irritated. "Get your runtcheeks downstairs." He ordered sharply, thought not so unkindly as he had previously. "Chuck'll help you. You can talk to him, he's been through everything you have too; we all have. It's why we do things the way we do now; we've learnt from our mistakes." He ran a hand over his short cropped hair, scratching his scalp a moment before releasing a huff of air. "Look, we got something special planned tonight; newbie night. So, just, keep yourself outta trouble til then, ok?"

"And then you'll give me some answers?" Thomas couldn't stop the question rushing from him, like it had a mind of its own.

Alby even chuckled at his persistence. "Maybe, shank, maybe. Now go, or I'll throw you off the Cliff myself, you get me?"

Thomas wasn't sure how to feel. On the one hand, he was no further forward in knowing what was going on; but on the other, he had a promise that they would at least talk later, if nothing else. He nodded to Alby, then turned without another word, heading back down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he grinned, and even winked at Gally; who glared furiously, but he didn't really feel the joy of annoying the other boy.

"Come on, Chuck," he said, spotting the chubby boy waiting just outside of the shack for him. He started back towards his tree, deciding to just wait out the time until this 'special something' that was planned for later in the night.

"You got it," Chuck replied, his voice chipper, as if thrilled that Thomas wanted to spend time with him. "But first I'm gonna get you something to eat."

"I don't know if I can ever eat again." Thomas said, his thoughts going to the sick boy upstairs. He shuddered as he recalled just what he had seen, and tried to erase the image from his mind once more.

Chuck chuckled, and nodded knowingly. "Yeah, you will. I'll meet you at the tree in ten minutes."

Thomas walked slowly back towards his tree. He had only known what it was like to live here for a short while, and already he wasn't sure if he could see anything good about it. He wished for all the world he could remember something about his previous life, any little thing at all. His mother, his father, a friend, the school he must have attended, whether he'd had a hobby. A girl. A boy. Anything that might tell him who he was.

He blinked hard several times, trying to force away the fog in his mind that obscured his past. Though it wasn't cold in the Glade, Thomas drew his knees up to his chest, and couldn't help the shudder that escaped him.

A/N:~ I'm not gonna lie; I was hesitant to post this at all. I don't want people to hate me for writing it... but; this series is so good. I read it/watched it - and I could SEE all these moments between Newt and Thomas and I just thought; why wasn't this Canon? So, I had to write it out and see how it worked.
Because I'm not selfish; I don't wanna hog that. So, I've shared it with everyone else too. It's not like I'm saying I own any of the original story; because that's just stupid. But, I just so want to see this story through... Please let me know what you thought though; if the overall consensus is that I shouldn't write it then, well I will see about taking it down again...

Either way,

x My love to you all x