wegotarunner | Day One, Greenie.

[Open Spam]

[Thomas arrives on the deck of the ship with a look of weariness not only on his features, but one that's settled into his shoulders. Chuck's carving is still clutched tightly in his hand. There's still blood on his clothes. On his hands. His face is streaked with dirt and sweat and blood from a cut above his eye and another on his cheek.

So this is the Barge.

He looks up at the sky with wide eyes, momentarily distracted by the sight and forgetting the events of the last few hours. But only momentarily. He blinks himself out of his dazed stupor and rubs a hand over his face. It takes him a moment to get his bearings. The first thing he needs to do is find his room, and take a long, hot shower. Change his clothes. Get something to eat. It's been hours since he last ate anything and his stomach isn't happy about it.

And then he's going to explore the Barge, find out where everything is. Figure out what to do from there. He's sure there's a lot to learn about this place, about the people he's now sharing space with. He's not completely thrilled about having to meet a whole slew of new people. People who won't know him, who will probably treat him like an outsider. Like he's not to be trusted.

Truthfully, he's still not sure should be. He remembers Newt's words. That who he used to be doesn't matter, it's who he is now that counts. And he can't save them if he focuses on things he can't do anything about. He has to stay focused.

For Newt. For Minho. For Teresa. For Alby. Ben. Even for Gally.

But most of all, for Chuck.]

[Video]

[Thomas appears on screen looking better than he had only an hour ago for those who ran into him on the way from the deck to his room. He's cleaned up, all the blood and sweat and dirt gone from his skin. The cut above his eye and the one on his cheek are still there but they look a little less angry now. He also looks a little hesitant, like he's not sure about this.]

Someone said I should introduce myself.

I'm Thomas.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin usually comes up to the deck for some air after his Infirmary shift, or a long time spent reading in the library. It helps him re-centre himself, to clear his mind, to find a sense of perspective. What he finds today is a young man (maybe ten years his junior?) in bloodied clothes, obviously wounded and bone-tired, and Merlin recalls sharply how he looked himself when he arrived on the Barge not two months before.

He also remembers how utterly incapable he was of accepting the kindness of strangers, but that's no reason not to offer.

His approach is slow, cautious. He doesn't want to present a threat.]

...Hello. Have you arrived here today?

[He looks very like someone else he's seen around ship, he realises, but his colouring is a little different. ]

From:

wegotarunner

[It's only been a couple hours, if that, since Chuck died in his arms. The blood has settled into his skin, dried there. He feels nauseous.

He's not one to turn down kindness, especially if it's sincere. It feels like the Glade all over again. He agreed to come to both places, he knows he did, but his memories of both incidents are shaky. He turns toward the sound of footsteps and sees a young man -- older than him -- approaching.]

Yeah. Just now.

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin nods.]

You're hurt. Would you come to the Infirmary with me? I'm a physician here - I can treat your wounds, help you get cleaned up, if you'd like.

[He knows he didn't, that he refused more than one such offer. But he doesn't think so little of other people as to think they'd bask in their own misery and defeat the way he did. Does.]

From:

wegotarunner

[It takes him a second. Then the confusion passes. He looks down at his bloody hands. At the clothes.]

I'm not hurt. It isn't mine.

[It's Chuck's.]

From:

takeyouapart

[His gut ties itself in knots because, yes, he knows exactly how that feels.]

You have cuts on your face. They're definitely yours, and they'll only get worse if you leave them.

[He tilts his head toward the stairwell, his voice quietly insistent.]

You look like you haven't rested in days. Let me help you.

From:

wegotarunner

I just want to shower.

[Weariness cuts into his tone. A shower, and maybe a few hours of sleep, assuming he actually can. He's hungry, but he's eaten since he slept last and he needs to prioritize.]

But thank you, for the offer. What's your name?

From:

takeyouapart

[He doesn't push. There's probably nothing he can say; he knows there was nothing that could be said to him.]

Merlin. I'm a warden here, and a physician at the Infirmary. What's yours?

From:

wegotarunner

[Physician. It takes him a second to place the word. Doctor. Med-Jacks, as the Gladers called them, even though none of the guys had a medical degree.]

Thomas.

From:

takeyouapart

Thomas.

[He nods, and doesn't ask whether he's a Warden or an Inmate. He seems battered, yes, but not disoriented in the way of someone who has no idea how they came to be where they are.]

You can use the shower in my room if you don't have one of your own.

From:

wegotarunner

[He exhales at that, nods, grateful for the offer.]

I may need to borrow someone's clothes. I didn't bring anything with me.

[He didn't have anything to bring.]

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin smiles gently. This feels like an opportunity to pass on Eugene's kindness to him, and he's grateful for it.]

I've got plenty. And you can ask the Admiral for whatever you need. I did.

From:

wegotarunner

Thanks, Merlin.

[His voice is quiet.]

From:

takeyouapart

Thank you, for letting me help you. Will you follow me? I'll show you where my cabin is.

[If he seems like he's willing to follow, Merlin will lead him below decks, onto the stairwell.]

From:

wegotarunner

[He smiles faintly and nods, following Merlin to the stairs, descending below the deck. He glances over all the doors, some with notable signs and marks on them, others that are just plain with no adornment of any kind.]

How long have you been here?

From:

takeyouapart

Not two months, yet. But there's a lot of good people here. They'll help you settle in.

[He can't strictly count himself as a good person. He'd like to, but. Various reasons.

The door he unlocks is heavy oak with iron fixtures, and the room beyond - a medieval infirmary, with shelves of leather-bound books and glass jars - is fitting to it. It's warm in here, some wood still shouldering in the hearth.]

The shower is through there. [He nods at a door that looks out of kilter with its surroundings; the bathroom beyond is equally anachronistic.] There's towels and soap. I'll fetch you some clothes.

[They might be a little large on him - Merlin is a couple of inches taller, and marginally broader in the shoulders - but not comically huge.]

From:

wegotarunner

[He nods. The reassurance is nice, even if he's still a little hesitant. He follows Merlin into the cabin and looks around, eyes widening as they take in all off the decor. He doesn't have any memories of things that look like this place.

His mind is kind of spinning.]

Do all the cabins look like this?

[There's surprise and a hint of amazement in his voice. He shakes himself out of his daze, though at the mention of the shower.]

Thanks, Merlin.

From:

takeyouapart

[He's halfway across the room when the question gives him pause. He stops, turns back to him.]

The cabins are a replica of a place you've lived at home. So, they all look different.

From:

wegotarunner

[He's not sure what that's going to mean for his cabin when he finds it. There weren't any actual buildings in the Glade.]

Oh.

From:

takeyouapart

[Whatever's on his mind, Merlin couldn't guess. He just nods.]

I'll leave the clothes outside the bathroom for you. Take as long as you'd like.

From:

wegotarunner

Thanks.

[He draws in a breath and heads into the bathroom, quickly stripping out of his bloody clothes and climbing into the shower, turning the water on as hot as he can stand. The heat eases some of the tension and achy feeling from his muscles and for awhile he just stands there, letting the water wash away the blood and sweat and dirt and tears. After awhile he finally reaches out and turns the water off again, climbing out, drying off and changing into the clothes that Merlin left out for him. They're a little baggy on him, but they're clean and dry.

His hair is still damp when he steps back out into the main room.]

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin's not far away, flicking through a book while he waits. When he hears the door he looks up, and smiles.]

You look better.

From:

wegotarunner

[He feels better. Physically, anyway. The rest will come with time.]

Thanks. I appreciate the help and...the clothes.

From:

takeyouapart

You're welcome.

[He hesitates just a moment.]

...a lot of people come here, looking like you did. I did. And I don't know what happened to you, or why you're here, or where you've come from, but...if you ever want to talk about it, you can.

From:

wegotarunner

[He swallows hard at Merlin's words. He tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it. He believes him. His voice is sincere. Thomas just isn't ready yet.]

Thank you. I think I just need some time to process first, I guess.

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin nods, and it makes him feel a little more hopeful for the younger man that he can even say that much. He doesn't think he would have been able to. (He doesn't think he can now.)]

If there's anything you need, all you need to do is contact me. You should have - [He rummages in a pocket for his communicator, and holds it up for him to see.] One of these, to speak to the rest of the ship.