[semi-closed]

[forerun]

CHARACTERS: Minho (forerun) & Thomas (wiped) with room for anyone who knows Thomas (or Stiles) and might want to save him
LOCATION: the Glader room, hallways, gravcouches, etc
WARNINGS: weird Glader swearing, probably fist-fighting
SUMMARY: Thomas had felt compelled to help the wrong side the last time things went to shit, and Minho isn't about to let that happen again.
NOTES: Basically Minho is locking Thomas into a gravcouch to keep him nice and safe for the duration of the battle. Feel free to jump in if your character cares enough to stop the strange exchange.


Minho would've had to be a grade-A slinthead to not notice the warning signs. It seemed like any time something important started happening on the ship, anything involving the government or outside forces, there were people on board who felt the need to help them. He'd learned as much as he could from the records kept by certain passengers, but it had been slow reading and honestly he'd skipped a lot of the details. Normally he wouldn't mind, and he was curious as shuck to learn what others might know. But this was different. This was a battle for freedom, and as much as Minho hated the ship, he hated government organizations and shady researchers even more.

He remembered the last time Thomas had gone running off on his own to help the people who most others were keen on killing. He hadn't even let Minho go with him, had just told him he needed to help and ran off on his own. This time, Minho was prepared. As soon as he saw the signs, he got himself ready to wrestle Thomas into a gravcouch if necessary. Not that he told him that, though, because if there was one person in the galaxy with a hope of out-running Minho, it was Thomas.

"We should probably get supplies," he said as casually as possible one day, his plan already plotted out in his mind. He just hoped that he'd be able to keep it from leaking over into Thomas now that they had a mental connection open between them.

Comments

[wiped]

It's insidious in a way Thomas still wasn't prepared for. W.I.C.K.E.D. has messed with all of their minds enough that he'd thought he'd feel it coming, but instead it's just subtle pulls and pushes in his head, the same indescribably compelling urges that felt like curiosity, like he just had to go to engineering, had to see what was happening there. The next step hadn't presented itself, but he's already impatient to get there, half-thinking about how to shake Minho.

That in and of itself is a warning sign, but Thomas is distracted enough that he hasn't noticed it. He'll realize it after, when it's too late, but by then all he'll have left to do is feel guilty and angry about it.

"Supplies?" comes Thomas' distracted answer, looking back around at Minho. "There's not a lot of time if we're going to do something."

Like get to Engineering. Thomas isn't exactly volunteering that part, but secrecy and withheld urges aren't exactly new for Thomas.

[forerun]

Minho was doubly cautious to spend too much time in direct contact with Thomas' mind in case some of that artificial instinct tried to creep over the connection and into Minho's own brain. It made it hard to know exactly what Thomas was thinking about, but Minho liked to think that he was pretty good at telling when someone was not quite themselves. He'd gotten some practice in the Glade when someone went through the Changing, not to mention all the weird klunk with Gally.

"That's why we need supplies, shuckface," he said with a smile, nudging Thomas with an elbow. "Can't be going into a fight empty-handed, right?" Maybe that would appeal to the part of Thomas that wanted to jump into the fray, even if he was keen on fighting on the wrong side.

[wiped]

The wrong side of the fray is right, though as far as Thomas is concerned Minho was the one on the wrong side. Thomas can feel the urgency, the sense that he can't wait, not even to properly prepare.

"We need to do it fast." Thomas finally relents, stopping to rub at his legs, wincing. "Then we should get moving. I need...we should split up."

Get Minho busy elsewhere, then--

Then what? Engineering is a constant tug, pulling at strings Thomas isn't even aware of, but he doesn't know how to explain this to Minho.

[forerun]

There it was, the ‘we need to split up’ tactic that Minho had feared. He knew Thomas, knew the things he did to give himself privacy or secrecy. He wasn’t about to allow it, though, and he stopped to keep close with Thomas. “You want to go off alone with those shucked legs?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to focus. “Maybe we should run to medbay, get you something for them if you’re so ready to run into battle with nothing but your shucking stubbornness.”

[wiped]

"They aren't bad today," Thomas deflects, fingers curling into fists at his sides to keep from touching his legs instead. "We don't need to waste time doing that, Minho."

Engineering. He needed to get to Engineering as fast as he could, and every instinct Thomas had told him to keep that secret, to ditch Minho before he had to--

That's where things got fuzzy. Thomas' love and loyalty for Minho clashing with the impulses hooking into his gut, guiding him towards some other unknown purpose. Thomas struggles with it for a moment, jittering in place.

"Let's just go. We don't have time to stand around arguing like a couple of slintheads."

[forerun]

Minho can feel his hold on Thomas slipping with each second they spend standing still. Sighing, he nodded and started walking again. If he got Thomas moving, it would be easier to pull him along. They were already so close to the medbay, and he could probably wrestle Thomas into one of the gravcouches as long as he didn't run off. Minho was stronger, sure, but Thomas had become a Runner for a reason.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing Thomas' wrist and pulling him in the opposite direction of Engineering.