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They’re working in the middle of the forest when Thomas lets it slip.
Minho leans against one of the trees, breathing hard and sticking his shovel into the ground. They’ve been working for hours now, flattening a large patch of soil that will be later used for growing vegetables. Thomas isn’t sure if this soil is even proper for growing anything, but he figures that they might as well try.
Thomas keeps digging through the loose dirt when Minho huffs out a laugh next to him. Thomas raises an eyebrow in question and Minho just shakes his head, using his wrist to wipe sweat off his forehead.
"What’s so funny?" Thomas asks, using the opportunity to take a short break.
Minho stares at the ground, then looks up, pensive. “I feel like Newt would have loved this place.”
Thomas blinks and leans against his shovel, trying to ignore the drop in his stomach. “You think so?”
Minho nods, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.”
Minho tries to say something else but it gets caught in his throat. Thomas understands the feeling completely. It’s been weeks since they’ve made it to their Glader paradise, and this is the first time that Minho has mentioned Newt. Just saying the boy’s name around their new camp seems to be taboo. Thomas, for one, can’t stop thinking about him. His last, dying moment. The cranked out look in his eyes. His pleading voice.
Thomas closes his eyes, swallowing hard. That was all over, now. The pain was over.
He shakes himself out of it and grabs his tool again. “He’s in a better place now,” he adds eventually, using his foot to help bring up more dirt to the surface.
When Minho doesn’t reply right away, Thomas glances up and catches Minho staring back at him, eyes blank.
Thomas shifts his weight to another foot. “What?”
Minho is quiet for a few seconds. “Y’think where he is is better than this?”
Thomas doesn’t know what to say. He looks down at the dirt and tries to find a worm. Anything so he doesn’t have to look at Minho.
"I think so," he replies quietly, swallowing hard. He hopes, hopes as much as he can that Minho will just drop the subject, that they can move on from this.
But of course, Minho pushes the shovel down with his foot until it’s standing upright in the dirt. Thomas can feel his gaze, can feel that Minho is staring him down.
"Thomas," Minho says. "What do you mean he’s in a better place?"
Thomas closes his eyes and thinks, this would be a good time to die. Right now.
"I meant, y’know. He’s probably found some peace, wherever he is," Thomas mumbles, hoping that Minho doesn’t hear him. He looks up when Minho doesn’t make a sound, and he’s just staring at him.
Minho’s mouth opens, then closes. He says, “In Crank City? You think he’s found peace.”
Thomas rubs his wrist against his forehead. “Minho, can we just drop it? I don’t want to talk about this.”
"What do you know that I don’t know?" Minho asks, and there it is. That tone of his that means he’s not going to back down any time soon. It sounds like impatience, frustration and this time, it’s laced with hurt.
Thomas does the best thing he can do. He tries to act dumb. “What are you on about, Minho? Is the sun getting to you?”
"Thomas," he says again, and Thomas doesn’t have the courage to keep speaking.
Minho steps closer and takes a hold of Thomas’ arm, so he’s forced to look at him. “What do you know?”
"I don’t know anything, Minho, what -"
"Don’t play dumb with me," Minho scolds. "You get this look in your eyes every time someone mentions Newt, like you just want to forget he even existed."
Thomas scoffs and Minho continues, “We’re all devastated that we had to leave Newt behind in that hell-hole, now you’re gonna tell me he’s in a better place?”
Minho is getting closer and Thomas wants to throw up. The boy’s voice is getting louder and louder, and Thomas can tell some of the people in their camp are starting to take notice.
"You know something, don’t you?" Minho says and Thomas doesn’t know how to answer, he can’t find the words, and Minho grabs him by the shirt, fists twisted in the fabric.
"Since when do you keep things from me, Thomas?" he asks, furious, and Minho is so terrifying when he’s angry. Thomas can feel his eyes start to burn.
Minho shakes Thomas. “What do you know? What happened to Newt and how do you know?”
Thomas is breathing hard, trying to keep himself calm so he can answer, but his nerves won’t let him. He’s already shaking and he can feel himself start to lose control, the tears already on the way.
Minho shakes him again, harder this time. “Thomas! You tell me right now, you shank, or I swear I will beat your shuck head in with this shovel, you tell me -“
"He’s dead!" Thomas manages to choke out, his hands covering Minho’s on his shirt. Minho looks at him with his mouth open, like he cannot believe those words just left Thomas’ mouth.
"He’s dead, alright, he’s dead. He’s in a better place because he’s not there anymore, he’s gone," Thomas rambles, untangling his shirt from Minho’s hands. He can’t stop shaking and he wipes at his face, trying to stop the tears but they just keep coming. He hasn’t said it out loud until now, he couldn’t even mention it in his mind, and now here they are.
Minho looks stunned and he whispers, “How do you know?”
Thomas squeezes his eyes shut. He knew this day was going to come, the day he would have to tell Minho about what he did, but he wanted to be ready. He wanted to be able to explain everything, explain why it had to happen this way, how he had no choice.
Minho is staring at him, waiting for an answer. He looks so lost, so unlike himself, and it breaks Thomas down.
Thomas can’t hide it anymore. He sobs, his chest shaking with the force. “I killed him. It was me.”
Minho looks destroyed. He watches Thomas, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to understand.
"You.. what?"
Thomas wishes he could stop crying so he could try to explain, but he can’t. It’s like a dam has been broken inside him and he shakes with it, the tears coming freely now.
"Minho.. I’m sorry. He made me, he didn’t give me a choice - he was so broken and I didn’t know what else to do, he was so - he was so unlike himself, I -"
Thomas wishes he was surprised when Minho grabs him by the shirt again, but he’s not.
Minho shakes him until his shirt nearly rips. His eyes look feral, like he suddenly turned into an animal, and Thomas can’t breathe.
"You always have a choice," Minho spits. "You murdered him, because you had no choice?"
Thomas starts to get a bit hysterical, trying to answer his question and calm himself down, but he can’t. He tries to breathe, Minho’s grasp on his shirt making it hard for his chest to move properly.
"Minho, you don’t - you don’t understand, let me -"
Minho tightens his grip and the shirt begins to rip. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?" he asks, and Thomas gasps, trying to catch his breath.
"How long were you going to let me think that Newt was stuck with those animals, instead of here with us?" Minho's voice cracks on the last sentence, like he's trying to hold back his own tears. He shakes Thomas again, "Tell me, Thomas!"
Thomas has never seen Minho cry and he's honestly not sure if he can handle it. He doesn't know what to say, he knows how badly he messed up, and he suddenly thinks that if Newt were here, he could calm Minho down. It makes him want to cry harder.
"You're speechless now, huh?" Minho seethes and he shoves Thomas until his back slams against a tree, the shirt he's gripping nearly in shreds now.
Thomas cries out in surprise, the chipped bark digging into his skin, and he's suddenly terrified that Minho will actually try to hurt him. He shakes, the tears making it hard to speak, and he stutters out, "Minho, please -"
And Minho laughs, dry and without humor, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, "You afraid that I'm going to hurt you, Tommy?" He shoves Thomas harder against the tree, and Thomas gasps out in pain.
Minho looks like a completely different person. "I should," he snarls, "I should beat your shuck face in for what you did."
Thomas tries to get Minho's hands off of him, but there's no way that he can compete with his strength. "Minho, just let me explain -"
"Explain this to me," Minho says, his voice thick with tears. He presses Thomas harder against the tree. "Explain to me how Newt would have never done what you did," he says, hoarse and cracking, "How he would never have given up on you, or us, and you gave up on him."
Thomas squeezes his eyes shut. "I know," he sobs, "I know, I know."
Minho is crying freely now, the tears running down his cheeks and Thomas can't watch, he can't see him like this, he can't. He hears footsteps and voices approach them, so he's forced to open his eyes.
Gally reaches them first and stands at a safe distance away from them. He looks confused, but mostly worried. "Minho, what - come on, shank, let him go," he says carefully, like he's talking to a wild animal.
Thomas looks back at Minho and the look in his eyes kill him. He looks torn, like he doesn't know if his body can handle the sorrow it now carries. He doesn't look as angry, but he still looks out of control, and Thomas doesn't know what to say. What could he possibly say?
Minho tightens his grip before he lets Thomas go, and Thomas groans as he leans against the tree, his back stinging from the inevitable cuts he received in the process. He nearly collapses onto the ground, feeling weak.
Minho just stares at him for a while, a look of disbelief and unimaginable sadness in his eyes, like he can't believe Thomas would do such a thing. He shakes his head, his eyes filling to the brim again, and he shrugs Gally's hand off his shoulder before he turns and walks away, deep into the forest.
Thomas wants to be left alone, he wants to to rot in that very spot for the rest of his life. Gally steps closer to him, looking so confused it would almost be funny if Thomas could actually laugh. He's not sure he'll ever laugh again.
"Come on," Gally says, his voice gentle like Thomas has never heard before. "Let's get you cleaned up, then."
-
Thomas is numb.
Gally forced him to get his back cleaned up, and Thomas has been sitting in the same spot ever since. Sitting against a tree, looking down at the ground.
Gally had been kind and gentle, offering to stay with Thomas in case he wanted to talk, but he had refused.
He has no idea how long it's been, but the sky is getting darker now and Minho still hasn't come back. It worries him but he doesn't know what he can do about it. Minho probably never wants to see him again, and with good cause.
Thomas swallows hard, his eyes swollen from crying. He's not sure if he can ever cry again.
He hears footsteps approaching and deep down, he hopes that it's Minho. But it's Brenda who crouches down next to him, a solemn look on her face.
She pets the back of Thomas' head sweetly and asks, "How are you holding up?"
She doesn't know what happened, no one does, but she's the only one that gave him some space when he asked for it. He shrugs, still not looking at her. He knows everyone is probably worried at their camp, but he can't bring himself to care.
Brenda keeps petting him, her hand on his neck now. Then she says quietly, "I found Minho."
Thomas looks up at her immediately and he's almost ashamed at how desperate he must look.
But she just says, "He's okay. He's sitting out in the woods like you are, not too far that way." She points in the direction.
Brenda kisses his cheek. "I just thought you should know," she says, and then she's gone.
Thomas doesn't know what to do. He wants to see Minho, of course he does, but he doesn't want another confrontation. He's not sure if he can handle it.
But he gets up anyway and heads in the direction that Brenda pointed. It's getting so dark he can barely see where he's going, but the stars and moon are so clear in Paradise, he can see their light shining through the tree branches.
He lets that light guide him in the right direction. Thomas knows that he might regret this, trying to see Minho so soon after what happened, but he needs to know where they stand. Minho is his best friend and they need to talk about this, regardless of how terrible the situation is.
Thomas walks for a few minutes before he gets to a small clearing, and he finds Minho sitting on a random strewn log. He looks so small, so much smaller than he actually is, and Thomas suddenly wants to run away, because he doesn’t know if he can handle losing Minho. Just watching him and the way he breathes, Thomas begins to miss him and his voice and his laughter. He wants it all back so desperately.
He walks forward slowly, until he reaches the log. Minho’s back is turned, but he must know it’s Thomas. No one else would be this terrified to approach him.
After a few quiet seconds, Thomas hooks a leg over it and then the other, until he’s sitting next to Minho, a safe distance between them. He can’t see Minho’s face because he’s staring at the ground, and that sort of relieves him. He can’t believe Minho hasn’t walked away or tried to attack him yet.
All Thomas can hear for a long time is the sounds of the forest, the murmur of animals and occasionally, the deep silence of the outdoors. The moon shines down on them both.
“Do you regret it?” Minho asks him suddenly, and just hearing his voice again is startling. He’s soft-spoken, his voice a bit gravely like Thomas has never heard before.
Thomas answers as honestly as he can. “Sometimes,” he replies and his voice sounds even worse, like he’s been chewing on dirt. He distantly remembers that he hasn’t had a drink since that morning. He clears his dry throat and glances at Minho. He isn’t looking in his direction, so he keeps talking.
“Sometimes I think that I could have done something. I could have shoved him into the van and brought him with me, or I could have just left him there, I don’t know.”
The trees sway around them, a fresh breeze blowing through. Thomas shivers.
“But most of the time.. I don’t regret it, because it’s what he wanted.”
Thomas looks over at Minho and he’s surprised to see him staring back. He nearly flinches, because Minho has such a sad expression on his face. Thomas swallows hard. “You know it’s what he wanted.”
Minho looks up to the sky then, and Thomas can see his adam's apple bob as he swallows. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears again.
“Did he. Did he ask you to?” Minho asks, looking down again.
Thomas can feel his eyes begin to warm up and he can’t stop the tears even if he tried, the memory becoming so fresh in his mind, and he doesn’t know how to look away from it. He rubs at his eyes and sighs, “God, Minho.”
Minho waits.
Thomas brings his hands away, and they’re already wet. He looks up at the sky and says, “He begged me to.”
Minho makes a noise, a sound Thomas has never heard before, like a dying animal but so, so much worse and Thomas looks at him again because he can’t not and Minho -
Minho is crying. He’s not sobbing, not loud like Thomas usually is, but there are tears running down his face and Thomas breathes out, shaky and wet.
“Minho -“
“Tell me,” Minho says, his voice thick with tears, “Tell me what he said.”
Thomas shakes his head, remembering Newt’s last moments so vividly it makes him want to vomit. He’s never felt so sick.
“Minho,” he tries again because he knows Minho doesn’t want to know, it’ll only hurt him more, how can anyone stand to hear what Newt said to him that day?
“Please,” Minho says, scooting closer. Thomas flinches at the word. “I need to know, Tommy.”
Minho looks desperate.
“He told me he didn't want to become a monster,” Thomas repeats, as if Newt was on top of him all over again. He closes his eyes. He can feel the gun in his hands, Newt shaking on top of him.
“He told me -” he tries to compose himself, feeling his hands shake, “He told me he trusted me to do it, he said -“
I always hated you! I hate you, Tommy! I hate you I hate you I hate you!
Thomas takes in a shaky breath. “He told me that I needed to show him that I could do do the right thing, that I could -“
Make amends! Repent for what you did!
“He told me - he begged me -“
Thomas doesn’t realize that he isn’t breathing properly until Minho’s arms are wrapped around him in a crushing hug. Minho breathes hard against Thomas’ neck, trying to get him to calm down but Thomas can’t hear him and he can’t stop talking.
“- to put him out of his misery, to just do it or he would kill me instead and - I’m - I’m so sorry, Minho. I’m so, so sorry,” Thomas sobs and he clings to Minho’s shirt, holds him as close as he possibly can because Minho is shaking against him, his own sobs wracking through his body and he answers, “It’s okay, Tommy. I forgive you, it’s okay,” his voice high pitched.
Thomas chokes out a hurt sound and cries, “He said - He said -“
“Shh,” Minho says against him, Thomas’ neck soaked with tears, “You don’t have to, it’s okay, Tommy.”
Thomas squeezes his eyes shut. “He told me he hated me.”
Minho grabs Thomas’ face, pulling him away from his neck so they can look at each other. Minho looks wrecked, his face red and wet with tears and Thomas probably looks even worse.
"He does not hate you, Thomas," Minho says and Thomas sobs because he can’t help it, he wants to believe so badly. "Do you hear me? He wasn’t - Newt wasn’t himself anymore when he said that," Minho continues, his hands shaking.
"You were his friend and he trusted you to do it," Minho says and Thomas just wants to wipe all of his tears away and see his smile again. "Because he knew. He knew that I wouldn’t - that I couldn’t do it."
He shakes Thomas when he sobs again. “You are stronger than me because you did what you had to do,” Minho finishes and Thomas wants to believe him, he really does, but he can’t.
He shakes his head and pulls Minho close again, just because he can. Minho squeezes him, pressing a kiss on his temple.
Thomas feels like he has so much to say. He could explain everything, every little detail if Minho really wanted to know, but he doesn’t think Minho can handle it. He doesn’t want Minho to think about Newt and only see what happened that day. He wants to erase all of Minho’s bad memories and create new ones.
They stay like that for a while, Minho not letting him go for a second. Thomas listens to the forest around them, the loud crickets and the way Minho’s breathing is finally slowing down, his chest shaking just a little. Minho is so warm, so strong against him. Thomas never wants to let him go.
“You’re right, you know,” Minho says after a while against his neck and Thomas shivers when he feels warm air brush over his skin, “He’s in a better place now.” Thomas squeezes Minho's sides, letting out a shaky exhale as he nods.
“Stay with me?” Thomas asks him, his cheeks growing red at the question and Minho pulls him in as close as he can. “I'm not planning on letting you go any time soon,” he replies nonchalantly and Thomas shivers for an entirely different reason and closes his eyes, finally relaxing in Minho's arms.