An alternate ending to TDC
In which everything is the same, minus the kiss scene that should have never happened, but we missed some of the “behind the scenes” stuff while Thomas was gone, so some of it went a little differently than Thomas thinks.
I haven’t read the books in a long time, so this is more off of the movies than anything.
The last thing he sees as the plane starts to rise again is Minho standing over him, shaking him, his voice fading in and out. He struggles to keep his eyes open, trying to focus on what Minho is saying, but he can’t. His eyelids flutter shut, and he sees Teresa falling into empty space, surrounded by flames. His eyes snap open again, and he sees the concerned faces of those who survived, those who were left.
Thomas was a disappointment whether he lived or died, and because of this, he slowly lets his eyes close again.Thomas succumbs to his pain. The sound of his friends shouts fades out, and the world falls away.
He wakes some time later, in a tent. He can feel the breeze and smell the fresh air in his lungs; it was something he hadn’t felt since the glade, something he wasn’t sure he was going to feel again.
He wonders, for a second, if he might not be alive, but he grips the sheets up in his fist tight and he knows that somehow he came out the other side.
Suddenly his memory comes back to him, and they hit Thomas like a bus. He sits straight up, and pain shoots up his side.
Thomas winces as he slowly pulls his shirt up, carefully lifting it over the bloodstained gauze that covers his bullet wound. He thinks about peeling back the tape, assessing the damage, but he decides not to.
Finally, he looks around. He can hear the sound of people laughing, talking, somewhere in the distance, but he is completely alone. He heaves a sigh as he gets on his feet; he won’t see who he wants to, but it would be nice to see Minho, Fry, Harris, Brenda, or even Gally. Maybe a familiar face would cheer him up.
Thomas stumbles out of his tent, his bare feet sinking into the sand of the beach. He wonders briefly where his shoes went, but he can find them later. He revels in the feeling of the sand beneath his toes, the wind in his hair. He wishes- well, it doesn’t matter what he wishes. He can’t fix the past.
He follows the sound of the voices, traveling what looks like a well-worn path around the tents. First he sees the fire, and then all the people. Thomas freezes in his tracks, a confused smile of amazement on his face.
Minho sees him first, standing up quickly. Then Brenda, then Harris, Frypan, Gally, the others. And then they’re all coming towards him, people he wasn’t sure had survived with him. And then Minho hugs him, and Thomas closes his eyes, and his smile grows even bigger, because they did it. Teresa and Newt- they didn’t die for no reason, they died to save Minho, and to save Thomas, and that was something to be proud of.
But then he opens his eyes, as Minho steps away, and right there, standing half behind Gally, is Newt. He has his hand on Gally’s shoulder, and his other arm is clutching his own stomach like it’s hard for him to stand up straight. And the grin on his face is unmatchable by any of the others, which grows a little as Thomas locks eyes with him, and Thomas wonders just how ridiculous he looks right now. He’s looking right at a ghost, and suddenly Thomas’ face falls.
He knew it was too good to be true. Either he, and all the others, had died, or Thomas had yet to wake up.
And so he gives out more hugs, mumbling his thanks, letting everything go by in a blur, because Thomas isn’t awake anymore, he knows that he isn’t, so none of this matters. But just in case he is awake, he doesn’t take his eyes off of Newt.
And so Thomas gets to Gally, who just pats him on the back firmly. And then Gally steps away from Newt, who has started to look concerned, most likely from the staredown Thomas is giving him, and Newt wobbles on his feet. Without thinking, Thomas shoots out his hand to catch his arm, and Newt clings on, breathing heavy. And after a few seconds, where Thomas looks at the hand clutching his arm, his hand clutching Newt’s arm, he hears a whispy chuckle. “Thanks, Tommy.”
And his eyes snap back up, and he locks eyes with his dead friend, and slowly Thomas shakes his head. “I watched you die. How- what-” and he cuts himself off, shaking his head again. “I watched you die,” he repeats.
Newt laughs again, for real this time, but winces a little as he does it. “Brenda, she got there right as you left, with the serum. I missed my heart by a few centimeters with the knife; my breathing was shallow, but I was still breathing. You ran away, but Minho and Fry- they checked. They checked to make sure. I was still breathing, Tommy. They left the knife in, they gave me the serum, and it was too late, but it knocked me out and gave them hope. They transported me into the back of the plane, tied me up. They probably would’ve dropped me back into the city, because the serum was too late and I wouldn’t have been worth saving otherwise, but then they found you. And when they finally got you back into the plane, you were clutching this little vial in your hand.”
That was too much talking for him, though. Newt was out of breath again, clutching at his side, looking around for help. Thomas helped him hobble over to a log, supporting him as he lowered himself down to sit. Brenda came over, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed. “We all heard what Teresa said about your blood, about it saving me, about it being able to save Newt. That maybe it wasn’t too late for him, if you would just go back. You were clutching the vial in your hand like a lifeline, even though you thought he was dead. I took a gamble, and while the others helped you stop bleeding, I gave him the serum from your vial.” Thomas raised his eyes to meet hers, not fully understanding.
“Thomas, I watched the black recede through his veins, I watched the color come back to his face, I watched him jolt back to life. He rolled onto his side, he coughed up all the disease from his lungs.” She gave a small, disbelieving laugh, and shook her head. “Thomas, I watched him come back from the brink of death. You saved his life. And then I had to take the knife out, and patch him up, and pray to some higher being that he actually survived the whole ordeal, because I wouldn’t have been able to look you in the face after you woke up and tell you ‘I’m sorry, you almost saved him, but he didn’t pull through.’ And, so, I made sure he made it. After all, you made sure we all made it.”
A hush fell over all of them, and Thomas took a second to study each and every one of their faces. All these people that he knew, all these people he had fought for and beside, all these people that he apparently had not disappointed. He looks at Newt last, because the words are still sinking in, Newt is here and Newt is alive and Thomas had only partially failed, and Newt gives a small, sad smile.
“I’m sorry about your girlfriend, Tommy.” And at that, Thomas finally believes that it’s true. Newt is here, with him, in this safe space. In their safe haven.
Thomas grins, a giant, goofy grin, just for Newt, and says, “She wasn’t my girlfriend, but it’ll be alright.” Of course, it still hurts. Betrayal aside, she was one of Thomas’ best friends, and at the end of the day, she still saved him. So of course, of course, it still hurts. But when Newt smiles back at him, one big, goofy grin in return, and shrugs his shoulders, he thinks that maybe his words ring true, and they will all be alright.
