Erratic // Thomas+Female OC & Newt+Male OC

THE SCORCH DESERT

DAY 3 BACK IN THE SCORCH

21:56 HOURS

Buck

There wasn't much left of the day, but the rest of it was spent walking in an undisturbed silence, no one asking me what happened or what Winston's last words were. They didn't want to know and I couldn't blame them. Maybe in the future they'd ask, but it was too raw now. If I had any of Winston's blood on me, the other's couldn't see it, but I knew some of them were shocked to see my shoulders out in the open. Other than that, it was a very quiet desolate walk through the Scorch.

Eventually, because the sun was gone and the night sky had taken over, the group decided to spend the night outside a old abandoned ship. Sometimes I found it interesting that there were probably neighborhoods buried underneath the Scorch desert and we were walking over right now. Who knew what we were standing over.

After I checked the boat out, I confirmed that no Cranks were around and that it was safe for us to spend the night. Aris built a fire with the help of Fry and Minho while Joey and Newt held each other and Teresa sat in silence with Charlie. Over to the side, me and Thomas sat together atop an old rusting shipping container with our feet hanging over the side. We faced the open Scorch as the clouds blew through the sky, blocking the stars.

I turned to look at Thomas but he barely acknowledged me or the world around us, just sitting and staring at his hands as he fiddled with his jacket. There was an immense pressure on his shoulders that he carried without complaints, but I could see the struggle within him. He was a born leader and I knew that the day I met him, but I don't think he was prepared to take on the name so quickly. Everyone was relying on him and now he was losing his mind.

"Don't say it." Thomas said flatly and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Don't."

"Don't say what? That Winston wasn't your fault?" I asked him but Thomas refused to look up from his jacket zipper. "Well, he wasn't."

"I lead everyone out here." Thomas said, still refusing to look at me. "You said don't go to the lower levels of the mall but I did. If I hadn't..."

"Then the Cranks would have come up anyway." I told him but Thomas didn't want to hear that. "Sure, the Crank attack might have been on you and Minho, but Winston wasn't."

"What if I..." Thomas started but I cut him off quickly.

"Shut up." I said, taking my hand and resting it gently on his cheek. "Look at me Thomas."

It took him a second, but eventually Thomas dropped the zipper of his jacket and his beautiful amber eyes met mine. Tears brimmed his eyes as he tried to pull himself away, the guilt weighing him down heavily. How was I supposed to make him feel better when I was barely able to figure out my own emotions?

I thought about all the times I had issues in my life and how I dealt with them or what things I did to make myself feel better. Most of them ended with murder so I had to scratch that off the list of how to help Thomas. Then, something popped into my head that Joey used to do with me and it always worked.

"Ask me anything." I said and Thomas looked deeply into my eyes.

"What?" He asked confused, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Ask me whatever you want and I'll answer it." I told him, feeling anxious about it, but Thomas was worth it. "Whether it's about WICKED, the Scorch, the Right Arm... or... me."

Thomas was in shock but not as much as I was for even suggesting the idea of opening up. He knew little about me before and now I was offering him the chance to know everything about me now. It was all on the table. But I knew what his answer would be and it would be 'no, I don't want you to open up to me for pity'. Or maybe I was wrong.