A.N. So I have actually finished Comatose completely. But, during this process I have re-edited and both cut and added new pieces to make it (in my opinion) a better story overall.

It's a little different, but mostly still the same. Have fun!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I do not own any part of the Maze Runner franchise, or anything else that I might mention in this fic.

Waking Up

Thomas

Opening my eyes is the hardest thing I've ever done. Blinking is hell, it takes me long seconds to open and close my eyes again and again until my vision is somewhat clear. I push myself up onto my elbows and it seems to take hours. I suddenly realize that I have no idea where I am.

I rifle through the survival tactics that Newt crammed in my head before he died. "Always find the exit first. It's most important to know where you need to be in order to escape." Just thinking about my lost love calms me down a little. I imagine him there, next to me, telling me what to do. I finally find the strength to look around the room.

I'm in some room. The walls are painted a dark army style solid green and the bed I'm in is big, obviously a double. As details expand and my senses slowly crawl back to me I notice that there is an IV in my arm. Along the wall to my right there are posters, paintings, and pictures. At the end of the wall is the door to the room. It's white and it's pushed all the way open. On the wall across from me, there is another door, then a desk, followed by third door. The desk is light wash wood and placed on it is a vase full of flowers. The wall to my left is lined with a dresser, a large window that the blinds cover and two bookshelves.

The door farther to the left is pushed open and Chuck comes from behind it. His eyes meet mine and my jaw drops, then does his. My jaw sweeps the floor and before I can stop them, hot tears are rolling down my cheeks. This isn't real; this is some trick, some other trial. A sob rips through my chest and suddenly I'm balling like a newborn. I can't stop it; I can't hold it in anymore. It's all just too much. I let my body be heavy and I crash back into the bed. This new position does nothing to dampen my sobs. I cry for everything I've seen, everything I've lost. Soon snot starts to run down my face. I know I must look horrible, but I don't care, Chuck is somehow back from the dead and I can't handle anything more.

I'm still too much in shock, so I don't notice what he's saying until he's yelling it loud and at the top of his lungs.

"Mrs. Boyd! Mrs. Boyd!"

"Ch-chuck. What... How... You're dead." My voice is hoarse, it sounds like I've eaten sand and it feels even worse. I try to contain the tears some but I can't, the fight against my own emotions is fruitless. I vaguely hear Chuck continue screaming and bang out of the room. I guess, there are some things that even death can't cure, Chuck is still a bumbling oaf.

"Mrs. Boyd! Mrs. Boyd!"

I stare at the ceiling above me. How is he alive? I'm so confused. What is happening? I the tears increase as I think about Newt. My beautiful Newt. I love him more than the earth, more than the air. Is he still gone? I think back to that horrible moment, the moment they killed Chuck.

So much has happened since then, but how can Chuck be alive? And he looked different. Clean, better, not so stressed. But who the hell is Mrs. Boyd? And where the hell am I?

Chuck comes back into the room and tailing him is a woman. She must've been really beautiful when she was younger but greying hair and worry lines ruin her appearance. She reaches out to me and I retreat back on the bed so I'm pressed against the headboard. I look to Chuck, trying to understand why he brought her here, why he isn't fighting her.

I look at her hands, they're the hands of someone hardworking. They're dry and her pale skin is cracking. I don't know this woman, yet I feel a strange pull toward her, like I should let her pull me into her arms and rock me until everything else is gone.

"Thomas, baby. It's me, it's mommy." Her voice is soft and it sounds like it's soothed many children.

"My mother is dead." I state it plainly but my mind is reeling. How could this woman be my mother? Tears spill down onto her cheeks. Then the most absurd thing I've ever seen happens. Chuck goes to her and grabs her elbow. She pushes him away and walks out of the room.

"Do you know me?" Chuck sounds the same and I almost start crying, just remembering the last thing I said to him, the last promise I made to him, to find his mother. I nod, unable to speak. "Can you talk? Will you say something to me, Tom?"

"You died. You died in my arms." My voice hasn't gotten better in the long silence of my panic. I barely get the words out. I look down onto the unfamiliar bed sheets. He falls silent until I hear a voice from the hallway.

"He's what? When did this happen? Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I could've ditched, I was just grabbing a damn blizzard with Mark and Bert." Then he's standing in the doorway, a Dairy Queen cup in his right hand and he's looking at me with those eyes, those eyes that stop my heart. "Hey Tommy." He says it as if it's been five minutes since I've last seen him. Like I didn't put a bullet in his head, like he never sacrificed himself for me.

"OH MY GOD BLIZZARD!" Chuck's attention leaves me entirely he's now staring at the cup in Newt's hand and he reaches for it. Newt takes his left hand and places it on Chuck's forehead, keeping him away from the cup, but his eyes never leave mine.

Newt pushes Chuck back as he walks in and when he reaches it, he places the cup down on the desk. He's pulling a long red plastic spoon out of his back pocket as he still holds Chuck at arm's length away. Then he has let go of Chuck and he's walking towards me. Newt stops at the footboard, his hands resting on the wood. His gaze hasn't wavered, and its intensity has remained unbroken. Then something shifts. He sighs and a grin breaks across his beautiful face.

"You have no idea how good it is to see those baby blues again." A tear streaks its way down his wonderful cheek. Why is he crying just because he gets to see my eyes? Shouldn't he be yelling and punching me for killing him?

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to, it's just you were begging and you were crazy and… And... You didn't want to be a crank!" Then I'm crying again, new wet tears joining the barley-dried snot still on my face. I try to get my hand to move up and wipe my face, but nothing happens.

I can't look at him. I can't look at Chuck, these two people who I've loved most in the world, who both died because of me. Then a weight presses down on the bed to my right. Long fingers wipe away my tears and some of the snot bubbles. He pulls his hands away for a second before they're back on my face. Only now their purpose is not something as temporary as wiping away my tears because I'm immobile. His fingers trace slowly over my eyes, down my cheeks, and over my nose before they stop at my lips.

"Charlie get out." I open my eyes and instantly lock gazes with this beautiful being above me. Neither of us look away, and time slows down to a crawl. He's here, he's with me again, my Newt.

"Mmhmm wha'eveh." There's loud footsteps and I can only guess that Chuck left the room. Newwt just called him something else though… Charlie? The thought puzzles me for long seconds but then Newt bites his lip and the world stops spinning. Everything makes perfect sense again. Just me and Newt, against the world. I'm yanked back to reality when that mouth of his starts forming words, phrases, even sentences.

"I don't know anything about me being crazy here in the real world. Must've been some bloody dream there Tommy."

"Dr-dream?" I look up at him, my eyes feel huge but I can't help it. His voice gets low and he leans in closer to my face. So close that I can now feel his warm breath across my nose.

"You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Tommy, you've been in a coma for the last year." What? How could this be? I never had a dream. But unfortunately my voice aches too much for me to inquire about all of this. So I simply settle with two words.

"A coma?"

"Yeah, you were shot. You went under in surgery and never woke up." I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. It's not working to well so I let long minutes of silence stretch between us. When I finally do speak again, it is nothing more than a horse whisper.

"How long did you say?"

"Well…" Newt takes a deep breath through his nose. "Technically you've been out for eleven months, fifteen days, nine hours and twenty minutes, but who's counting?" I let out a bark of a laugh at that.

"I think you were Newt."

"Newt? What's a Newt? Is that Like Newt as in the little frogish thing? Like that thing in Matilda." I freeze.

"My nickname for you?" I'm so confused. If we're human shouldn't we have the same names? But if that's different, then what else changed?

"Alright so I'm Newt. If I may ask, what is that short for?"

"Isaac Newton."

"Okay, so I'm Isaac Newton then. Who are you?" When he says that, I grin to myself. I guess in whatever world I'm in, I can't help but love Newt. I look for the joke in his face, but find no hint of humor in his eyes, he's being serious.

"I'm Thomas." I say and a grin breaks across his face.

"Well that's good, because I don't know if I could handle calling you a different name." We sit there in comfortable silence after that.

A noise comes from his ass and it makes him jump. He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. He answers it and says

"Hey this is Grey I can't talk right now, I've got some stuff to do." He then listens and hangs up.