"Long way from home." Whatever that is anymore. 'Home' had been some mythical thing they'd all been striving to get back to, when they were getting out of the Maze, but what's the world to him? Any of them? Their parents likely aren't alive any longer, and even still, they gave them away.

Maybe didn't know what would happen, maybe thought they were keeping them safe, but the bitterness in Thomas still whispers the same thing - they, she, gave him away. He's still soaking in what Steve's telling him. They aren't the first to have varied dates. Weird. What are the chances it's actually some weird kind of time travel? "You think that's true? Or that someone just jacked with our heads? Sucked out all the old stuff, filled it in with something new."

The sad thing is, Thomas knows which one's more likely, and it isn't time travel. And the idea terrifies him - that he can't even trust his own mind anymore. But he has scars, he has wounds, he can feel the sting from the fabric that clung to his skin around the slash on his back pulling away. There has to be something he can trust - just one thing. After a moment of being lost in his head, Thomas nods, to answer the question. "Yeah. Go ahead. Probably need a new one anyway."