Quiet is Violent {Newt | The Maze Runner}

21. Now or Then

"Wake up! Nik, wake up! Are you OK?" Quiet and persistent, Thomas's voice jolted Tasha from her uneasy sleep. She groaned to life, squinting in the sunlight filtering in through a thatched roof and fought to remember where she was, though it was a losing battle. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, but with the sun now glinting in her eyes, it wouldn't be possible. She tried to move from her position, curled uncomfortably on the ground, but let out a loud, pained moan, her muscles aching in protest.

"I hurt," She mumbled, her voice rough with sleep, her vision unfocused, barely picking out the shapes of the others around her, hand barely covering her eyes to protect from the sun's rays. She licked her dry lips and grimacing as her tongue slid over broken skin, her eyes beginning to refocus, "everywhere." She concluded, squinting at her surroundings as they grew more familiar with each passing moment and the sinking feeling in her stomach became increasingly uncomfortable. She was currently crumpled on the floor of the wooden jail, with Teresa and Thomas beside her. The last thing she remembered was seeing Thomas fall, kissing Newt and, oh... -- Gally.

"Gally had you thrown in here after Thomas and I." Teresa muttered softly, her eyes large and concerned as she looked over Tasha's crumpled form, Tasha's own gaze catching hers before her eyes slid out of focus once more. Tasha hummed sleepily, eyes fluttering closed, body weary and the burn of exhaustion running through her muscles, buzzing just beneath her skin.

Newt's voice reached her through her haze, and she cracked open her eyes once more, this time, more determined to stay conscious, "Gally's taken control." He huffed, his attention turning back to Thomas. Tasha was vaguely hurt, but his concerned gaze flicked to her and she saw the tense set of his shoulders and decided to let it go. There was bigger things to deal with. "He said we had a choice, either join him, or be banished at sundown with you."

"And the others agreed to that?" Thomas hissed, struggling to his feet, voicing the words that Tasha was too disconnected to articulate. His bitter tone brought Tasha back to reality and she focused her attention on the situation at hand.

"Gally has everyone convinced that you're the reason this has happened..." Teresa admitted, quietly, only just loud enough for everyone to hear. Tasha struggled, slowly and carefully, into a sitting position, propping herself against one of the walls, looking at the other five Gladers, trying to make sense of the conversation. Thomas sat on one of the little stone seats in the pit, frowning at Teresa's words.

"Well, he's been right so far." Thomas admitted, to which everyone froze, tension suddenly crackling through the air. Nothing was making sense to Tasha yet, everything still blurry around the edges, but she could feel everyone's unease and felt it mirrored subconsciously in herself.

"What are you talking about?" Minho hissed, frowning through the bars of the jail, crouch down beside Newt and Chuck.

"This place, it's not what we thought it was," Thomas was choosing his words very carefully, looking up and locking eyes with the Keeper of the Runners. "It's not a prison, it's a test. It all started when we were kids," Thomas squinted up at them and Tasha began to slide back into reality, beyond her pain, and actually listen to Thomas, her whole body going cold at his words, "they would give us these challenges; they were experimenting on us." Thomas seemed as if he couldn't believe it himself as he said it, the others all in various states of shock and confusion. "And then people started disappearing. Every month, one after the other, like clockwork." He finished.

"Sending them up into the Maze." Newt murmured, frowning, his gaze trained on Thomas's face, listening intently.

"Yeah, but not all of us." Thomas sighed, his voice part tired and part resigned. Mostly he sounded apologetic.

"What do you mean?" Newt's confusion was plain as day in his words and Thomas looked almost pained as his gaze drifted upwards to meet Newt's.

"Guys I'm one of them." Thomas admitted, disbelief filling his voice, Tasha didn't feel proud of the sense of 'I knew it' in her gut. "The people who put you here, I worked with them." He huffed, "I watched you guys for years, the entire time you've been here I... I was on the other side of it." His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked with Teresa's. "And so were you."

"What?" She didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible. Tasha closed her eyes, willing it all to be just a bad dream.

"Teresa, we did this to them." Thomas's sorrowful voice filled her ears and she knew it wasn't a bad dream. She opened her eyes again to gaze sadly at the two Greenies. It felt like she was intruding upon such an intimate moment.

"No." The tears began to fill Teresa's eyes and she shook her head, as if trying to physically expel the thought, "That can't be true." She muttered, her voice cracking as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"It is, I saw it." Thomas told her, and Tasha's breath caught, her head spinning.

"Tasha, Thomas you make sure I remember my name! My name is Tasha!" The memory blasted through her mind as tears filled her eyes. Her hand flew to her face as she sucked in a quiet gasp. She knew the boy from her memory, she was certain of it, but now she was sure; he was the one sitting before her right now.

"Why would they send us up if we were with them?" Teresa tried to reason, the conversation between her and Thomas taking the focus of the others, Tasha's own brief epiphany left unnoticed and she lowered her head to her hands, trying to take deep breaths and steady her racing heart.

"It doesn't matter." Thomas shook his head, his expression defeated.

"He's right." Newt's voice was clear, cutting through the intimate exchange between the two Greenies. "It doesn't matter," he shook his head, expression hardening, "any of it, because the people we were before the Maze, they don't even exist anymore." Nik doesn't exist anymore. "These creators took care of that." The intensity in his eyes burned through Thomas as their gazes locked, "What does matter is who we are now and what we do right now." Tasha lifted her head from her hands as Newt's hope seeped through the bars into the pit. "You went into the Maze and you found a way out."

"Yeah, but if I hadn't, Alby would still be alive." Thomas mused, to which Tasha gasped, her damp eyes growing wider with surprise. Alby... she hadn't know that Alby was dead... Everything was changing.

"Maybe." Newt murmured, "But I know that if he were here, he would be telling you the exact same thing: pick your ass up and finish what you started." A bitter, not-smile overcame Newt's face, "Because if we do nothing, that means Alby died for nothing, and I can't have that." There was a moment of silence as Thomas considered the words, before nodding, resolutely, and Tasha had to push her grief aside. She could mourn Alby when they were safe.

"Ok..." He huffed out, before looking back up at the second-in-command -- no, he was the leader now. "Ok, but we've gotta get through Gally first." There was something new in Thomas's voice, something like hope and determination that made Tasha ignore her own aching pain and help the others. The plan was simple enough, pretend to be: helpless, on Gally's side, or in Thomas and Tasha's case, unconscious, and turn on their captors when they least expected it. Once the details had been hashed out amongst the six of them, the three not imprisoned were called away to prepare for the banishment.

"Nik, are you OK with-" Thomas turned to Tasha, who flinched, before crawling back to her side of the jail, trying to find a comfortable position in the dirt to get a nap in before the plan was set into motion.

"Stop calling me that." Tasha sniffled slightly, the stress finally taking a toll on her body.

Thomas looked taken aback and he fumbled for a moment with his words, before spluttering out his response. "Ah, Tasha, sorry." He had managed to catch his mistake and for a moment he wondered why he had called her anything else, apart from the fact that her name, or so he had thought for a split second, was Nik... He knew the reason, he wondered if she did too.

"My name isn't Nik." She told him, curtly, avoiding his gaze, her hands resting over her stomach as she tried to focus on a normal breathing pattern. Both Thomas and Teresa frowned at her.

"I know, I just-" He was cut short as Tasha, still with the faintest trail of tear tracks on her cheeks and eyes vaguely red-rimmed, said her next words as slowly and carefully as she possibly could.

"Thomas you make sure I remember my name. My name is Tasha." Thomas's eyes went wide and he started at Tasha, almost afraid as she met his gaze without flinching.

"You... remember?" He murmured, Tasha dropped her gaze again, her eyes closed and she hummed thoughtfully.

"Not really" She admitted, quietly. "I remember you. We were friends, or... something." The sigh she released was one that resonated in her bones, like the hum of a soul older than their years.

"No," he blurted and Tasha quirked an amused eyebrow, too tired to otherwise react, "I mean, yes, we were friends, just not good friends."

"I know." Tasha mused, smiling weakly. "Thanks. I like who I am." Her smile grew into a full grin, which Thomas returned, sitting beside Teresa who seemed as though she was unable to process everything happening at that moment. But it didn't matter. Thomas's voice was quiet and steady as Tasha drifted off to sleep once more.

"Sorry, Tasha, about everything."