Chapter Text
Minho’s heart was pounding so fast he thought it might beat its way out of his chest. Where is he? Through the storm, he could faintly hear the others’ calls of Thomas! Thomas! as they searched. The rain beat down around him, soaking through Minho’s clothes, but he didn’t care. Thomas had disappeared that afternoon, a couple hours before the storm started. The rain was coming down thickly now, and it had gotten dark. He might be lying at the bottom of a ravine right now, hurt or worse. Minho’s stomach lurched at the thought.
A cliff rose out of the rain-shrouded darkness before him, and at the edge of it…
“Thomas!” Minho screamed again, and a flash of lightning illuminated the silhouette of a boy, standing mere feet from the long fall into the crashing waves. He didn’t turn at Minho’s call. Minho stumbled towards him, pushing against the wind and driving rain. He stopped a few feet from him.
“Thomas,” he gasped out. Thomas didn’t look at him, a flinch the only sign that he’d heard. Minho was undeterred. “Dude, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. You can’t be out in this storm.” He reached for his friend’s shoulder, ready to take him back to the camp. Thomas stepped to the side, avoiding Minho’s hand. His shoulders shook in what sounded like a sob. A sick feeling settled in Minho’s gut. Thomas hardly ever cried.
“Are you okay?” Thomas turned his head slightly toward Minho, and he had to strain his ears to catch his friend’s next words over the thunder. “I’m sorry, Minho.” The boy let out a scoff. “About what? You have nothing to be sorry for, you shank. Now come on, let’s head back–” “I’m not going back.” That gave Minho pause.
“What?” His voice came out in a whisper. Thomas spoke again, louder this time. “I’m not going.” The sick feeling grew. “Why?” Thomas turned fully now, his back to the raging sea. The rain struck down, plastering Minho’s hair to his forehead as he gazed at his friend. “I don’t deserve this. Any of it.” Thomas whispered. Minho snorted. “That’s ridiculous.” His voice hitched as he said it, trying to hide his growing fear. Thomas let out a humorless laugh. “You’re ridiculous. You don’t know. You don’t know what– what I did. I can’t be here, living happy and safe when all of them will never get that. When Newt will never get that. That’s why I can’t stay. Can’t live.” His voice broke. Thomas paused for a moment, lifting his head to gaze into Minho’s eyes. “After this, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.” A slipping of feet on wet grass as Thomas stumbled back toward the cliff edge and Minho leapt forward. Minho was faster, grabbing Thomas by the shoulders.
“Listen to me, you klunkhead!” Minho shouted. “I love you, okay? You’re my best friend. I– I need you. I can’t lose you too.” His voice caught, and he continued. “You deserve this more than anyone else in the world, got it? Without you, so many more people would’ve died. You’ve saved my shuck life more times than I can count.” Tears were rolling down Minho’s cheeks, mixing with the rain. Under any other circumstances, he would’ve tried to hide them, but that didn’t matter now. He’d cry a fucking ocean if the tears would convince Thomas to stay.
The boy in question had gone still, chest heaving. Minho locked eyes with him. “You didn’t do anything, Thomas.” A flash of anger suddenly came over Minho’s friend. Thomas’ fists clenched, hands flying up and shoving Minho in the chest. The dark-haired Runner fell backward, landing on the muddy ground. “Thomas–” “I KILLED HIM!” Thomas screamed.
Lightning crackled behind him, illuminating him where he stood on the cliff’s edge for a split second. Minho stared at him in fear, hardly recognizing his friend in this state. “What?” “I killed him, Minho! I killed Newt.”
Minho’s heart felt as if it were tumbling into the abyss, crashing onto the spiky rocks below them. As if he were falling off that cliff himself. He felt frozen to the ground all of a sudden, unable to move his limbs. He replayed Thomas’ words over and over in his head. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. The rain beat down, its cold sinking into his bones, but not the same coldness that now gripped him. Through his haze of shock, Minho dimly registered Thomas walking backward toward the cliff edge. A wave of acute fear rushed through him, swamping all his current emotions. He leapt to his feet, stumbling toward the boy as the wind and rain howled furiously and dragged at his clothes, all the while his mind going too late too late too late–
Thomas gave a sad smile, the cliff edge a mere six inches from his heels. “I’m sorry, Minho. It’s better this way.” It happened in slow motion almost, the way he stepped back. Minho leapt forward, hand reaching out to grasp for a part of him, any part–
And miss.
Thomas’ fingers brushed against his, slipping through. A scream tore its way from Minho's throat, Thomas’ name. No. No. He’d failed. Again. Failed to save yet another of his friends. Minho screamed Thomas’ name again into the damning rain, even though he knew there was no hope. This was a drop of several hundred feet, with jagged rocks at the bottom. Minho let out yet another scream, this one wordless. How could he be such a fuck-up, such a failure, that he couldn’t save his best friend?
Behind him, he heard footsteps, people calling his name. Hands on his shoulders, dragging him back from the ledge. Minho fought and twisted like a demon, spinning to land a punch in the face of the person on his left. He had to get to Thomas. Maybe he was gone now, but he could retrieve the body, make sure his friend had a proper burial. More shouts around him, more arms dragging him back. Voices calling his name. Asking where Thomas is. They’d never get their answer, because he was gone. Gone, gone, gone, like so many of their friends, like Newt, like Chuck. All because of Minho. Because, yet again, he wasn’t fast enough.
He shoved a person off him, letting out a scream of rage, both at them and at himself. A grunt behind him, the swish of a large object swinging through the air. Stars appeared across Minho’s vision, and he tumbled to the ground. People picked him up, told him it would be okay, but they were wrong because Thomas was gone and it was his fault and now nothing would be okay ever again. Blackness replaced the bursts of light, and Minho’s senses faded.