Chapter 11 - A Long Way Down

"Well, this sucks." Thomas huffed dryly as the ride groaned to a reluctant halt, jolting into stillness and refusing to budge a single inch further. The brunette looked slightly uneasy, his honey orbs wide and suspicious as he leaned forward to try and get a better look at the ground below, probably hoping to spot the cause of the stoppage.

However, all the action succeeded in doing was tipping the unstable cart with the unbalanced weight, making the thing pitch violently and threaten to spill the boys from its bowels before Thomas sprang back in an attempt to rewrite the car. The basket shifted compliantly into its previous position as if nothing had ever happened and it was only the shaken look written across either Gladers face that hinted there had ever been a disturbance as the teens exchanged an uneasy glance.

"How about you don't do that again?" Minho scoffed snarkily, trying to cover up how the tipping left him startled with sarcasm as per usual and reaching out to bat his companion over the head lightly with an open palm. Yeah, Minho was just super great at expressing emotions.

"Everything is under control. Do not panic!" A nasally, somehow still bored sounding, voice carried on the wind before Thomas had a chance to bite back a reply, settling for merely sticking his tongue out at the boy instead as Minho rolled his dark eyes at Pepperoni face's lame attempt at condolence. Man, the wolf sure felt so much better now that he knew an illiterate, apathetic teenager was coming to the rescue. His hero.

Thomas seemed to share the wolf's sentiment as the brunette crossed his long arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the seat, looking tense and about as far from reassured as one could get.

"Obviously, if things were under control we'd be on the ground." The Runner pointed out bitterly, looking irritated and uneasy as he shifted about and glanced over the edge of the cart quickly before pulling back as to not upset the balance once more.

Had Minho not been a supernatural wonder gifted with highly attuned senses that revealed far more to him than the average human being (Not to be cocky or anything, Minho was definitely a humble sorta dude, really. He was just also a self assured badass.) he may have believed his friend truly was actually angry with the predicament but that was not the case.

Thomas's sweet smell of home soured with the rotten musk of unease and uncertainty as the brunette subtly chewed his lower lip and glared at a random point in the now dark night sky, revealing his mask of anger for what it really was: Fear.

You gotta lick him. Minho's wolf decided confidently, apparently under the impression the Keeper's saliva was a mystical Cure-All that would magically dissipate any and all unpleasant emotions his mate experienced.

Minho stubbornly told his weirdo instincts to back the fuck up, getting the impression that dragging his tongue over the younger boy's pretty face would do nothing to alleviate his companion's anxiety.

Aside from that, there was the fact that the teen's own rising unease would prevent him from doing much of anything helpful. His stomach was beginning to twist into horrible knots like they were back on the Tilt-A-Whirl with Isaac and an awful feeling of foreboding was burrowing itself deeper into the wolf's heart by the second.

As minutes passed like hours and time seemed to drag on for an eternity, the Keeper only began to feel worse and worse. The smell of his mate's lingering unease made the werewolf want to bite someone despite the fact that there was no one here to blame and now, in case they didn't have enough problems already, the wind was quickly beginning to pick up.

The whooshing breeze battered the cart and made it sway precariously in its relentless torrents, as if the weather were a huge invisible cat and the little car was a half dead rat tossed around in its paws for amusement.

The horrible feelings of agitated uncertainty and rapidly mounting fear pressed down on Minho like a boulder atop his chest, growing heavier with each passing moment and leaving the boy squashed helplessly under its grip.

Then, soft fingers brushed lightly against his own and the feelings were gone, the crushing boulder lifted away by invisible cranes as if it had never been there in the first place.

Minho glanced down at his hand to see Thomas's pale fingers intertwine with his own, the teen's long digits tentative at first, just barely ghosting across the boy's own until the wolf spread his hand in a show of invitation and the brunette threaded their fingers together and gave a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it was the bond between them that gave the simple touch such an impact, or maybe it was just because it was Thomas, but the small gesture was the most comforting thing the werewolf had experienced in his life and he gripped the other boy's hand tightly in his own as if it were a lifeline.

The Keeper sighed as the tension drained from him like magic, as if Thomas could pull fear like Minho could pull pain and his inner wolf urged him to butt his head against his mate's hand until the younger male petted him - No. Minho still had some dignity. No matter how amazing that sounded, he would absolutely not initiate such an action (Now, if Thomas would like to offer to stroke him in any way, shape, or form Minho would be more than happy to comply.)

The moment was ruined, however, as the neon lights decorating the ride suddenly blazed back to life, blinding in their unexpected radiance and illuminating the night sky as the accompanying music began blaring from the speakers once more, making Minho want to slam his hands over his sensitive ears. (He didn't. His hand was still clasped in Thomas's and he was going to make that last as long as possible, thanks.) The ferris wheel lurched once dangerously, groaning as if it were a great beast angry at being woken so soon and preparing to attack the fairgoers in its groggy wrath, then, reluctantly, it began moving once more, choppily at first, but lowering the Gladers nevertheless.

"Oh, thank the gods." Thomas sighed breathlessly, sagging slightly in relief as Minho released a huge breath of air he didn't know he'd been holding and let himself slump back beside his companion. As much as the wolf was miffed about their moment being ruined, he was pretty grateful his wolf was cockblocked before it could convince him to nuzzle under his Runner's hand and beg for attention. Apparently Wolfy wanted petted pretty damn bad. (My perfect mate's long fingers tangling through my hair- Minho cut his needy animal's internal monolog off before it could prove just how convincing of a case it truly had.)

Instead the wolf opted to go for the less creepy version of the gooey eyed lover boy he had secretly become and simply leaned slightly against his companion, relishing the other male's comforting presence as he tentatively pushed his shoulder into his friend's.

Thomas leaned into the contact as their cart lowered, the action sending waves of relief over the werewolf that easily tramped the reassurance the ride's now steady descent had brought.

"Remind me to never let you drag me on another ride again." Minho scoffed as the people on the ground lost the shape of ants and became distinguishable human beings once more.

"C'mon, you gotta admit it was fun!" Thomas protested stubbornly, crossing his arms defiantly as his companion merely rolled his dark eyes.

"Oh yeah, Tomboy, getting trapped miles off the ground is just one of my favorite afternoon pastimes." The Keeper snorted sarcastically as the glorious earth below became a tangible destination rather than a lucid fever dream they'd had no real hope of actually reaching.

"Before all that, slinthead." Thomas huffed amusedly, shoving his companion lightly in the arm as the cart finally neared the metal platform that would grant them sweet freedom.

Okay, so maybe Minho's heart did a totally unmanly flutter when he heard his mate say he'd enjoyed the quiet, private moment they'd shared before it all went to shit - But the wolf still managed to exasperatedly roll his eyes, earning him a pointed elbow to the side.

"I deeply apologise for any inconvenience or discomfort you may have experienced while on our ride." Pepperoni boy's high pitched voice came to greet Minho's sensitive ears with its nails on chalkboard like tones as their cart finally came to a halt where it should rather than fifteen feet skyward. "Please accept this two cent coupon for hair spray and leave us a good review on Yelp." The living puss ball concluded as he held up a small scrap of paper with a cartoon bottle of glue doodled on it and held it out to Minho as the boy threw open the door of the car.

"It's only good for a few hours so use it quick!" The literal definition of annoying called after the pair as Minho snatched the scrap from his fingertips and pulled Thomas away from the death trap of a ride at top speed, leaving the boy whose wrist the Keeper had captured in his grip stumbling in his wake.

"Are you guys okay?" Came a sudden shout from a few feet away and Minho turned to see Stiles emerge from the darkness, jogging over to meet them with concern written across his face.

"Yeah. No biggie." Minho assured as the teen came to a halt in front of them. "We've almost died at the hands of various monstrosities a few dozen times so we're pretty much used to it." The teen joked lightly, shooting the brunette a confident smirk to reassure the kid of the truth of his words.

Stiles didn't get a chance to respond as Derek came running up behind him a moment later, panting slightly and looking as if he'd just run across the entire park in a few seconds time, nearly colliding with the younger boy in his apparent haste.

"Jesus Christ, Stiles, you have to quit disappearing." The alpha gasped breathlessly, glaring pointedly at the boy in question who merely offered an apologetic smile in reply and offered a hand to the wolf.

"Sorry, Sourwolf." Stiles apologised quickly as Derek linked his fingers with the kid's lithe ones and visibly relaxed slightly at the contact, as if the teen were using touch to assure the wolf of his presence and safety.

"I think we're done with rides for the night." Thomas admitted with an awkward laugh, the words sounding like liquid gold spilling from the brunette's lips to Minho who would gladly kill to never have to touch another amusement park horror again.

"You can come play games with Derek and I." Stiles suggested welcomingly, glancing over at Derek momentarily as if to assess the guy's reaction but merely receiving a uninterested shrug in response. This must've been a positive response, however, as the brunette grinned eagerly at his boyfriend before turning his gaze back to the Gladers questiongly.

Minho looked inquisitively at his companion to see Thomas gazing at him hopefully with interest and curiosity glinting in amber eyes, a very Thomas-y combination of emotions that somehow still always managed to completely wreck Minho's ability to breathe properly every time.

"Let's do it." The werewolf agreed immediately, eager to do anything that might prolong that excited look in his mate's eyes... Except maybe get on a carnival ride again.