Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The screaming stopped and his vision cleared, narrowing in on the blood that covered his hands. Newt looked around frantically, calming as he realized the door was still locked.

Blood ran down his arms, staining the white bathroom floor. He had waited for them to return, had waited until the generator on the Berg had shut off, the sweltering heat consuming his maddening thoughts.

Two days ago he’d locked himself into one of the bathrooms, the screams in his head getting unbearable.

He should’ve left. He should have left and rid his friends of his corruption.

“Newt?”

The sound of the door opening up shook him from his thoughts, focusing on the pain that racked his body. He opened the door, limping out to the main area.

“Tommy?”

Before he knew it he was surrounded by people in masks and armor, guns pointed at him as they closed in.

“Where are they, Newt?”

He took in a shaking breath, his eyes narrowing on to the bold words that seemed to haunt him. WCKD.

“I don’t know. If I did I sure as hell wouldn’t have been in here.”

A gun was pressed into the back of his head and before he could stop himself his vision went red, breaking the bastard’s arm, taking the small pistol and shooting him in the knee before aiming at the man’s head who was now kneeling and weeping at Newt’s feet. Adrenaline coursed through him as he looked at the Ratman, knuckles white as he clutched the gun.

“Get out.”

“Calm now Newt, you can help us save you, save everyone. We just need your help.”

The man walked forward, arms out in some twisted form of surrender.

“We only wish to save the world. Don’t you want that?”

“You gave me the bloody Flare! You never had a cure, you’re not even close to having a god damned blueprint.”

His vision started to fog at the edges, he was going to kill this rat of a man, he’d kill all of them. Every single one of them until they eventually shot him. The man stepped closer and Newt grinned as he saw his eyes, getting a look of confusion from Ratman.

“What? What are you smiling for? You are in no place-“

“You have it too. I can see it in your eyes, you have the damned thing too.”

Newt laughed, and pointed his gun at the man.

“Save the world? Or save you? Save all the sorry saps that put my friends in that damned maze that killed MY ALBY! YOU WANT ME TO SAVE THOSE PEOPLE DO YOU?! Not over my dead, maggot infested body will I help you.”

The words were angry and frantic, red creeping back in as anger filled every corner of his brain. He shot Ratman in the leg, watched as the other guards rushed in and he didn’t even stop them as they grabbed him, eyes focused on the crippled man.

“I hope the Flare destroys that small bit of human left in you so I won’t feel even slightly bad about killing you when I come for you, because you won’t be human than, you’ll just be some bloody shank that blends in with all the other Cranks and rats in this fucking world.”

The Crank glared at him and that was the last thing Newt saw before something was injected into his neck and he fell unconscious.

Chapter Text

He woke up in a white room, padded aside from the steel door that had a small window at the top and a hatch at the bottom for food. Like he was a god damn hamster, he sat up against the wall, staring at the door, wanting to laugh as he thought about what had happened. He really was crazy, absolutely insane. He shot two people, one more human than the other, and he’d enjoyed it. The rush of power and vengeance that came with them falling to the ground, crying in pain as their bones were snapped through.

He wanted to do it again, wanted every one of these so-called scientists to burn in hell. His eyes then locked on to the words above the door and had to fight the urge to break the window.

WCKD is good

“If you all are so bloody good then you shanks should really make your hostages cells a bit more homey.”

He called out, staring pointedly at a corner in the ceiling, something telling him that there was at least a camera there. The sound of a buzzer came through the room and the door opened, a woman with blonde hair and a mask stepped in, her eyes squinted like she was smiling.

“Hello Newt. It’s been awhile. I’m Chancellor Paige and you are not a hostage, you’re our guest.”

Her voice was calm and for some reason  it made him angry, made him want to scream. He stood and looked at her.

“A guest? I thought we were past the whole trials, lying test thing.”

“We are, this is not a trial or a variable, this is an invitation.”

“An invitation?”

“To help us.”

“Then I decline.”

He crossed his arms and Paige sighed, pulling out a gun and pointing it at his chest.

“Then this is a threat. You are going to help us. You and Thomas.”

Newt did start laughing then, despite the weapon pointed at him, he laughed. The Chancellor lowered her arm slightly in surprise, eyebrows furrowing.

“You’re threatening me with that? God you people are so fucking stupid!”

He grins at her.

“Do it. Shoot me. It would be a bloody blessing and a better outcome than helping you cowards.”

“Your answer truly saddens me, Newt.”

Paige sighed, shooting the gun and Newt didn’t have the time to even curse as the jet of electricity hit him in the chest and wrapped around him like a giant spider, forcing him to the ground as his body quaked. Newt would’ve said it was the worst pain he’d ever felt but he had thrown himself off of the maze walls and also watched his best friend and lover kill himself so being electrocuted was more like being given a shot of straight vodka.

He was taken to a room after the bolt of electricity stopped trying to kiss his heart and then set on a medical bed, staring up at the familiar mask with sharp objects hanging off it.

The swipe. They were going to fuck with his memories again. He went to move and quickly realized they had temporarily numbed him, particularly paralyzed.

“Relax Newton, we’re just starting where we had to leave off last time you were here. Your friends already removed their own Swipes in Denver and you won’t be much use to any of us if you still can’t remember your past.”

Paige smiled at him and then he was put under anesthesia and the mask was placed on him.

He woke up in the same room, a bandage wrapped around his head which was pounding. Newt groaned, sitting up again and flipping off the tray of food that was left by the door. His tongue felt like a lead weight, not even able to curse at WCKD for their shitty looking food. He leaned against the wall and gasped, a rush of images hitting him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on one of them, landing on a memory of him, Ably, Minho, Thomas and Teresa in a closet, a maintenance closet. They had stolen some food during dinner and brought it with them, the five of them talking. They were all about 11 to 12 years old, making useless plans for when a cure is made, Newt listening intently as Thomas talked about living in a house by the beach near all of them.

It filled Newt with hope that was slowly crushed as he looked at Teresa and her love filled eyes. She always looked at Thomas like that and he never noticed, or at least he didn’t seem to notice. Ably never seemed to notice how Newt looked at him too and he felt pity for Teresa.

Newt snapped out of the memory, shaking slightly. Tears brimmed his eyes and he stared at the door. He needed to get out of here.

Chapter Text

Newt was woken up by the sharp pain and impact of someone kicking him. He didn’t open his eyes before reaching out and grabbing the person’s leg, wrapping himself around it and then slamming his body weight into the leg, causing the person to fall over with a loud thunk . He looked at them and ripped off their mask, his vision going cloudy in that newly familiar way. He grabbed the man’s face, who looked absolutely terrified as he stared and struggled against Newt. He put force into his fingers, cutting open the flesh on the man's face with his jagged fingernails, relishing in the screaming. He slammed the man’s head down, glaring as he hit the padded ground.

“I said I’d kill the damn shanks that put me in that maze. I thought about it for two long years and I’m not about to forget about it.”

Newt hissed quietly, letting the Flare take over as he broke the man’s neck. He stood and stared at Ava through the window who stared right back before seeming to write something down. He looked at the man who stained the white floor red now. He had nothing on him, he was a completely defenseless man and had been sent in to get a reaction from Newt.

Well if a reaction was what they wanted he’d give them a reaction. He took the small ID card from the man’s pocket, using the corner to draw out lines on the padding. Lines he knew by heart, lines he had seen so many times that they seemed to be apart of him. An empty square in the center, paths going in all sorts of directions, sections forming words. He went to the back wall and hummed quietly, taking the now broken plastic car and cutting his arm, using his blood to spell out two very important words.

“ Fuck You. ”

He stepped back and looked at his work, seeing the messy lines of the maps Minho and the runners had worked so long on making, that he’d helped make. He looked at his bleeding arm and went to the side of the door and started writing down names, crossing them out one after another until everyone’s name was down.

Finally he looked at the window, saw a sea of people just watching, staring at all the marks he’d made. If they only saw him as another Crank then a Crank he’d be. He’d be the craziest bastard in the whole damned building.

~

An hour or so later three people came in, followed by the Chancellor. Newt was quickly detained, placed in cuffs with gloves and some type of mask that locked in the back. He almost laughed at the idea of having to bite these bastards but he probably would if need be. Hell, he’d dislocate his own wrists if it got him out of these cuffs. 

One person held Newt in place as the other two grabbed the man and took him out of the room. Paige looked at him, examining him like a feral dog, interest glittering in her eyes.

“You are one interesting individual Newt, the Flare has truly affected your reason.”

She knelt beside him and looked into his eyes.

“The Newt we were all rooting for would’ve never killed an innocent. You were one of the few Gladers that still mourned loss and grieved. It’s truly heartbreaking to see act this way.”

Her tone was so disappointed and hurt that Newt lowered his eyes, thoughts clearing back to a small piece of sanity. He looked at the wall with everyone’s name on it and his heart stuttered painfully at all the crossed out names. He hadn’t had time to mourn all the new ones, hadn’t had time to even think long enough about them but now, the Chancellor’s words burrowed into his heart. No, Newt would never have killed someone, not the Newt that had been in the Glade for two years, who had valued everyone of the Gladers and was in charge of making sure everyone was taken care of.

His head dropped, fighting back tears. He’d hated it, hated the walls, the doors, the constant state of fear. But now? Now he wanted to laugh at the thought of himself being curled up in a bed, trembling as he was attacked relentlessly with night terrors. Glader Newt hadn’t known actual fear, not like how he knows it now, hadn’t really known loss until they had escaped. 

He looked back at the woman who was giving him a pitying look that made his blood boil. He wasn’t like that anymore, he was some crazy heartless bastard because of them. He kicked his leg out, snagging Paige’s ankle from the back and yanking it forward. She fell and groaned, her look of pity immediately being replaced with hate.

“You’re right, the kid you put into the maze would never do something so heartless, but I think it’s pretty clear he’s not in the maze anymore and he’s sick of your shit.”

His voice was muffled by the mask so to emphasize his words he glared heavily at her. She looked at the person holding him and nodded, standing up and dusting herself off.

“It is clear to me now, and it is also clear you are not grasping the urgency we have to make this cure which involves your help and your friends. I suppose we’ll have to find a more aggressive means of persuasion.”

He didn’t have time to ask what the hell that meant before he was marched out of the room and down multiple hallways, stopping at a door that looked identical to all the others. The room had a heart monitor and a rug in the center, the walls having odd hexagon shaped holes covering them and there was only one dim light hanging down. 

Newt was forced to walk towards the monitor, a chain being clipped to the center of his cuffs and then to a hook that was hidden inside the rug. He was quickly connected to the monitor before the person left, locking the door.

He looked around and sighed quietly, not sure what he was supposed to be doing. He stepped back, seeing that he had about four to three feet of chain connecting him to the floor but not enough to allow him to go over to the monitor. Suddenly a small hissing noise started, a type of fog seeping from the holes in the wall and layering the ground, surrounding his ankles. He held his breath quickly, his heart rate picking up slightly and followed by more frantic beeping.

Then the lights shut off, the sound of metal scraping against the ground surrounding him. The familiar, eerie moans of Grievers filled the room, sounding like it was coming from every angle, closing in around him. The monitor was partially screaming now as his heart sped up, he tried to step back but his restraints held him.

The beeping faded into screaming and the world seemed to tilt as red lights turned on, casting shadows of the Grievers in the fog, but he couldn’t hear them anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed, the sound making his throat raw and his body shake, trying to be louder than the screaming that filled his head. 

Light suddenly filled the room, the fog retracting and allowing Newt to open his eyes. He’d planted his feet at the edge of his retrains and had started pulling so hard against the cuffs that his bones threatened to break, blood spilling from the rubs on his skin. His mouth tasted like he’d swallowed a million pennies, making him nauseous. He coughed, a painful, raspy sound, blood falling from his mouth. The person who had brought him to the room stepped inside, not saying a word as they unclipped the chain and disconnected the monitor. Rage filled his body then and Newt looked at his wrists and glared at the person, watching as their back turned to look at the monitor. 

Maybe they were betting that he’d be too freaked out to cause any actual damage or maybe they wanted him to attack the guy when he wasn’t looking, both ideas pissing him off a bit more but he didn’t act on his thoughts of murder, waiting patiently. A moment later the person turned to him, giving him a confused look before writing something down. Newt smiled and slammed his elbow into the bridge of the guy’s nose, causing it to make a sickening crunch as it broke from the force. He kicked the chain that laid on the floor out as the man staggered back and caused him to trip and fall, knocking his head hard against the tile and rendering him unconscious. 

He grabbed the keys in the guy's pockets and bit the end of one, wedging the key into the lock of his cuffs and sighing in relief as they clattered to the ground on the first attempt. He ripped off some of the fabric on the man’s lab coat, easily tying it around his bloody wrists and then going through all of his pockets, finding a small hand version of a launcher that Ava Paige had so kindly showed him earlier. 

The door swung open, multiple people coming in with guns but he easily shot one, took their gun (which wasn’t a standard hand held or a launcher much to Newt’s joy), and shot the others, grabbing a key card from one of the bodies and quickly leaving the room. He tried remembering the direction he’d come from, racing down hall after hall and shooting anyone that tried to stop him. Within minutes alarms were blaring but Newt ignored it, eyes landing on the stairwell.

Level 4/10

Praying that level 1 or 2 would be ground level he raced down the stairs, ignoring as the pain in his ankle grew. He landed on the second floor, panting through his teeth and glaring heavily at the guards that surrounded the stairs. He was about to either run up the stairs or kill as many of them as he could when suddenly an explosion made a gaping hole at the other side of the room and Newt grinned as he saw them.

Chapter Text

Thomas, Minho, Brenda, Jorge, and Gally (where the fuck did he come from?) appeared in the new hole, launchers in hand and looking as mad as a wasp in a jar. The guards/ practice targets froze as they looked between the teenagers, half focusing on Newt and the others going after his friends.

It was a massacre and the six of them were more or less untouched. A bullet had grazed Thomas’s left cheek, leaving a pretty nasty cut over the bone but he looked pretty hot with. Newt had been hit pretty hard in the ribs with the butt of a gun which definitely was going to leave a bruise, and Brenda had gotten shot in the center of her left palm, which was definitely a bit odd. 

They all quickly piled back on the berg, everyone slumping against a wall (except their pilot obviously). Brenda explained how they had met up with Gally and the Right Arm and that, because Thomas was an idiot, they found out that Newt was in trouble and came to rescue him.

Newt followed along even as his rush of adrenaline left him feeling exhausted. He spoke a few words to Gally before getting up and going to one of the spare rooms, falling into a bed and groaning at the comfort it gave him. He snuggled and wrapped himself up in the soft bedding, feeling small and comfortable as he fell asleep.

He woke up to screaming, curled up in a blood stained bathroom. He scrambled back and pushed himself into a corner, his breathing picking up as the lights flickered. He was still at WCKD, he hadn’t left, it was all a trick. He silenced the small sob that he let out, pulling his knees to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut but still feeling the warm tears escape and flow down his cheeks. 

The screaming got louder, making his head feel like it was about to explode. He lurched forward, throwing up in the toilet and freezing as he saw blood come from his mouth. He whimpered and backed up against the sink, the lights flickering more violently. He stood and turned on the water, hoping he could wash out the flavor of blood that had started pooling in his mouth, but instead small black bugs fell out of the faucet, filling up the sink. Newt backed up into the wall, his hands pulling away as he felt a familiar stickiness, looking as blood coated his skin and the walls. The walls changed to red and the bugs took flight, cutting his face as they swarmed the small bathroom and Newt screamed. 

He leaned over the side of the bed and threw up, bloody coating his tongue after the noise was ripped from his throat. Thomas ran into the room, eyes wide and worried, going over to his friend quickly.

“Newt..”

He whispered worriedly, cupping his face gently so he’d look at him. Tears slid down his face and Thomas gasped as he saw the small bloody scratches that were dotted over Newt’s face, his fingertips red.

“Is this real?”

His voice was quiet and it hurt to talk.

“Very bloody real. You were screaming like someone was pulling out your damn teeth.”

Minho stood in the doorway, frowning and arms crossed. Newt took a deep breath, fully sitting up now. 

“We have about five hours before we land, according to Jorge. Me and Thomas can take turns checking on you if you’d like to go back to sleep.”

The offer was nice but Newt shook his head.

“You guys need sleep too, I’ll be fine for a few hours.”

Minho nodded a little and left, Thomas following but quickly coming back with a medical kit.

“Thanks Tommy.”

He hummed an answer, grabbing some bandages and ointment, carefully applying it to the scratches which made Newt wince a little.

“I can do it myself Tommy, I’m not a kid.”

“I’m just making sure it’s done right.”

Newt scoffed but let him continue, closing his eyes and focusing on the soft touches, grimacing as the bandages were put on.

“Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you-”

“Stop mothering me, I’m fine Tommy.”

Thomas sighed, looking at him with worry as he ran a hand through his dark hair, letting Newt admire his face as he looked off to the side for a moment. 

“Promise?”

Newt rolled his eyes.

“I promise you slinthead, now go to bed, just looking at you is making me tired.” 

They shared a small smile before Thomas left, closing the door behind him. Newt let out a small sigh, gently touching the cloth on his wrists.

He really wasn’t okay.

He didn’t think he could be further away from ‘ okay ’. 

He leaned against the wall by his bed, staring off into space. He could sleep, risk having some odd nightmare if this whole thing wasn’t some trick, or he could stay awake, use the maximum of three hours he got the night before and try to keep going. Both options were awful but doubting his reality seemed a hell of a lot worse than sleep deprivation. 

He got up in defeat, leaving the room and going to the main area, knowing the layout of the berg like it was second nature. He’d paced the rooms countless times, had stored cans of food in each place when his madness threatened to take him outside. Suddenly his hand was pressed against a bathroom door and he opened it. The floor and lower walls were smudged with blood, the sink splattered with it and the glass in the mirror expertly removed. Two torn up pillows and a worn sweater were in the small bathtub. This room was out of order, he knew that because the first time he tried to wash the blood out of the sink and from under his nails he was met with an emptiness of water.

His fingers slid over the small grooves in the wood, not even able to remember the pain of his nails breaking there as the Flare overtook him. The damned thing was rampaging his body, causing tremors and a sickening train of thought. He always felt like he needed to be defensive and he was always on high alert, the stiffness of his tense muscles the first few days alone had made him almost immobile until he grew used to the feeling.   

He stepped out of the bathroom, leaning against the door and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to slow his thumping heart. Most of the lights were off to Newt’s pleasure, walking around the sleeping berg silently, feeling a small wave of calm go through him. He sat by one of the observation windows, watching as they flew over pine trees, the ground looking frosty though it was hard to see with the dimming light. 

He crossed his legs and sighed softly, the rocking of the berg making him tired to his disappointment. His shoulders tensed as he heard footsteps, about to stand up when a warm blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and someone sat beside him, his dark brown hair covering his tired eyes as he yawned. Newt looked at Thomas and then back at the window, cuddling up into the blanket.

He thought about what it would be like to live in these woods, in a cozy cabin, away from everything. He wondered if he’d be happy there, wondered if his friends would live close to him as well, just wanting peace. He smiled a little at the thought, almost forgetting Thomas was there before he spoke.

“I’d want a dog.”

“What?”

“If I lived down there, I’d want a dog.”

Newt looked at him and smiled a little, nodding in agreement.

“A dog sounds nice.”

He whispered, but doubt crept in. Having a pet hadn’t sounded scary until now but then again, being crazy to the point of killing your own pet was only a new reality Newt had to come to terms with.

Thomas scooted over, pulling the blanket tighter around them as he did so, their shoulders pressed against each other.

“You seem like a mouse kinda guy.”

“What does that mean?”

Thomas laughed at the almost insulted tone Newt used.

“I think you’d own a pet mouse. One of those white ones. Or you’d have a cat.”

He thought about it.

“I’d like to have a cat.”

Some far off memory hit him, a family cat they had rescued two months before the Flare had hit their town.

“A fluffy gray cat that likes sleeping on your chest when you lay down.”

“Any specific reason?”

“We had a cat like that, named him Clip, because he liked stealing my mum’s paperclips.”

Thomas nodded, catching the sad smile slowly falling away into pain.

“I didn’t want them back, Tommy. I didn’t want to remember them before I died.”

He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging himself and looking small as he stared out the window.

“You’re not going to die Newt, I won’t let you, not yet.”

“Would you kill me if I asked you to?”

Thomas frowned, staring at the blonde despite him not looking towards the boy.

“Why would you want that?”

“Wouldn’t you? If you knew what was going to happen to you, wouldn’t you want to die before then?”

The question hit Thomas like a tank and he clamped his mouth shut, staring back out the window. He couldn’t think of not having Newt around, he could barely handle leaving him behind in the berg, so killing him? He’d have to become a Crank just to consider it. He mulled over Newt’s words, the sad tone he had used.

Newt worried with one of the cloth bandages on his arm, his fingers going slightly red at the rubbing. He needed Thomas to understand, he’d beg him if he had to. He couldn’t bear the thought of his insanity. He was about to break the silence but Thomas beat him to it.

“If you truly meant it, I’d do it for you.”

His voice was quiet, barley above a whisper but he didn’t need to be any louder, the berg was almost completely silent, after all.

“Thank you, Tommy.”

They watched the darkening word, Thomas’s head slowly falling on to Newt’s shoulder and falling asleep. Newt stayed awake though, watched the world go past, and clung to these moments of sanity. He could feel them growing smaller every hour and he wouldn’t take them for granted. Not anymore. Not when he knew how close he was to losing himself.

Chapter Text

The berg landed in a small clearing, snow covering the undisturbed ground. The windows immediately started to fog up and Newt shivered. Why were they here? This didn’t make any sense. Thomas woke up, blinking blearily at the window as he sat up.

“We’re here?”

“Yep.”

“It feels like I only slept for ten minutes.”

“Trust me, you were out for five. My shoulder bloody hurts from your head.”

Thomas smiled and laughed a little as Newt pushed him slightly. They stood up as the other three came out of their rooms, Brenda looking at Newt with worry which confused him but she went to check on Jorge. Minho came over to them, looking at Newt.

“How are you feeling man?”

“Fine, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I can see almost every vein in your body and they aren't the right color.”

Newt furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his arms and seeing black veins covering his pale skin, going from his fingers up his arm and disappearing under his shirt, sure that they had reached his neck as well. Thomas had turned to look at him, apparently he hadn’t noticed them either. 

“Those had to have happened when I was asleep, you looked fine before.”

Newt stared at his hands, watching as they shook slightly, the veins seeming to move under his skin. Brenda came out, her face looking grave. 

“He’s going into one of the last stages before the Gone. I think him staying in the berg caused the spread to quicken more.”

Thomas and Minho whipped around to look at her but Newt stayed still, staring at his hands. Maybe he should've stayed at WCKD, maybe he should have left the berg like he had thought about so many times. 

“Can we slow it down some way?”

“We don’t have any of the Bliss and they’ve almost completely stopped selling it, there’s nothing we can do Thomas.”

“There has to be something!”

The pain and franticness that laced Thomas’s voice stabbed into Newt’s heart. He should have left so his friends wouldn’t have to feel like this. He was selfish to have not. He clenched his hands into fists as Minho got into the conversation, their words sounding harsh. He grabbed the only jacket he owned and slipped out of the berg, shaking slightly. 

He ignored the cold, how his old injury seemed to spring to life at the frigidness, pain shooting up his leg like he was stepping on pins. Was this a dumb idea? Very much so. But, as he looked back at the berg, his heart seeming to fall into his stomach, he knew it was the right thing. He couldn’t let them see him like this.

He walked for an hour and a half, making sure that he overlapped and turned at random so it would be harder for his friends to track them if they even noticed he was missing at all. He finally decided to stop, finding a little stack of rocks that made a small, dry sitting area. He leaned against the rock, stretching out his hurt leg.

His fingers were red from the cold and he couldn’t feel his nose at all. He closed his eyes, absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed. Tears started to fill his eyes as he despaired. He was going to die. At one point that had seemed like the best option, it still was, but now, he didn’t know if he could handle the thought of leaving his friends for good. He gritted his teeth and banged the back of his head against a rock.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t have time for this, not anymore. Get up Newtie.”

He scolded himself, getting to his feet and wiping off his tears on his sleeve. He started walking again, doing his best to ignore his leg and the darkness that was trapping him inside the forest. He broke off a sturdy branch, using it as some type of cane, pressing his weight into it as he walked.

He shivered violently, thinking of how people died of hypothermia. They were warm and happy for the last minute of their lives and Newt couldn’t help but think that wasn’t such a bad way to go. His mom used to read him a story about a little girl that sold matches and she wasn’t allowed to go home until all the matches were sold. She lit the remaining three and had died from the cold with a smile on her face. 

He always thought about how morbid that story was to be telling a seven year old but now he understood the girl a little more. She had rather died than have to go home as a failure. Newt would rather die out here then have to go back, going crazy until he was forced to beg Tommy to kill him. 

He curled up beside a tree, his body had stopped shivering, stopped feeling almost completely, a ghost of warmth filling his fingertips. He thought about the stages of grief and the conversation he had with Tommy a few hours before. The stages of the Flare were similar to the stages of grief. 

He’d wanted to deny that he wasn’t immune, had gotten angry that his friends were and now he’d bargain with what little he had just to have another conversation with his friends. 

He’d never be able to live in the woods by Tommy and his dog, warm and happy. He wondered if Minho would have a pet too. As childish as it sounded, it made him smile slightly. Newt wondered about a lot of things in those few minutes he sat there, his heartbeat slowing as he closed his eyes, snow sticking to his eyelashes and hair. 

~

He dreamed of a warm bed, covers up to his chin as his mum read him his favorite book, though he couldn’t remember the name of it anymore. His sister would giggle at parts, laying in her own bed in the room they shared. His mum kissed them on their heads, turning off the lights. 

He heard Lizzy turn over, and knew she was staring at him.

“Merry Christmas, Newt.”

She whispered and Newt turned over, smiling lovingly at her.

“Merry Christmas Lizzy, see you in the morning.”

Chapter Text

If someone had told Newt that getting the shit kicked out of you wasn’t the worst way to wake up, he probably would have laughed. Now though? He was sure getting thrown into a hot shower with his clothes still on was absolutely horrible.

Newt thrashed like a fish out of water, eyes opening as he gasped for air.

“You are so goddamn stupid!”

Someone was muttering angrily as they held him under the water. The water finally shut off and Newt blinked the water out of his eyes, seeing Minho glaring down at him.

“Do you understand how fucking stupid you are? Do you know how hard it is to find someone when it’s cold as shit and pitch black out?! Because let me tell you, it’s really fucking hard! You were practically an ice sculpture when we managed to find your dumb ass.”

He was ranting now, clearly very angry and a bit scared at Newt’s actions. The boy went to speak but Minho picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, ignoring how soaked the boy was. He walked out of the bathroom and Thomas perked up a little as he saw them. 

Seeing Newt, hair flat to his head and soaking wet, was almost funny if Thomas wasn’t about to have a heart attack because of his antics. Minho set the blonde down in front of him and Newt turned around to glare at his friend who now had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Apologize.”

“What?”

“Apologize for sneaking out and nearly dying.”

“I left because you guys were already worrying about me. I was trying to do you all a favor.”

“What, by getting yourself killed? Yeah that’s very helpful, Newt.”

Gally stepping, voice as harsh as ever almost made him step back. He looked at the boy, the two glaring at each other.

“It would've been. There’s no point in me staying with you guys anymore, it was selfish of me to stay when you went into Denver, I’m just slowing progress down.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Now it was Thomas’s turn to be angry and this time Newt did step back.

“Just because you have the Flare doesn’t mean you’re useless now and even if you were you’re our friend and we don’t want to leave you behind. You’re still sane for now and that’s all that matters.”

The hardness in Thomas’s eyes made no room for argument and Newt sighed in defeat.

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

He looked pointedly at Minho who hummed in appreciation and ruffled his hair.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s get you some dry clothes.”

~

He didn’t have any, having to borrow a pair of pants from Thomas and a shirt from Minho because all of his clothes were back at WCKD apparently. He sighed as he sat down on his bed, medical kit in his lap as he undid the song bandages that covered his arms and face. From what he could tell the small scratches had scabbed pretty quickly so he didn’t need to re-wrap them, his arms however, had started to scar.

The cuts from his cuffs were deep and bruised and there were smaller ones that were on his forearms, caused by his own fingernails. He took care of them and then laid on his back. He was so tired, the warm, slightly baggy clothes weren’t helping either. He was grateful that Thomas and him were close to the same size and he could deal with the shirt considering Minho stood a few inches taller than him. Gally was an inch shorter than Minho but he’d rather die than ask to use his clothes.

He stared at the ceiling, trying not to fall asleep as he did so. He let himself start to think of Alby, waking up in the homestead, warm and arms wrapped around each other. Newt would watch the softness that filled his lover’s face as he whispered to him, reserving those looks just for him and making him feel special. 

He thought of the mornings after a rare lazy day, his neck and legs sore, face burning with embarrassment as he thought of the night’s event’s. They’d laugh, get ready, and have breakfast before splitting in their own directions. 

Newt rolled over and sighed sadly. He missed him so much, wondered what he would do if he was still here, if he hadn’t been stung. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think of his words and what he’d say to Newt right now but he stilled as he realized he couldn’t remember what he sounded like. Memories of him were all muted or too quiet for him to hear. He opened his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he tried to calm his speeding heart.

 The knock came from outside but Newt couldn’t bother to answer it. Minho carefully slipped in, frowning as he saw the state his friend was in. He sat on the bed beside him and Newt sat up, hugging him tightly.

“Alby?”

He nodded in response, squeezing his eyes shut and finally being able to calm down. The few days that they were stuck in the odd building before the Scorch Trials Minho and Newt had fallen into a familiar routine, often falling asleep on one of their beds, finding it was the only way they could actually sleep through the night. The long days of starvation allowed him to mourn Alby, often going to his best friend for comfort. It was an odd step in their friendship but the two felt more comfortable now, talking easily when they could spare a few moments of conversation. 

Minho rubbed his back gently and sighed.

“Promise you won’t do anymore of that crazy shit, no matter how Crank-like you get.”

“I can’t-”

“You have to.”

He pulled him away a little by Newt’s shoulders, staring at him with the most serious face he’d ever seen from Minho.

“I promise, and I’m sorry for almost dying.”

“Hell yeah you are slinthead. I took that shit personally.”

They laughed quietly, falling into comfortable silence.

“You wouldn’t believe how scared Thomas was though. Man almost gave me a run for my money.”

“You know he’d act the same if you did something like that. You truly are his best friend.”

“You two are pretty close as well.”

He nodded, humming quietly.

“We are, but not as much as you two. He really cares about your opinion on things.”

Minho yawned a little as he nodded, pulling Newt to him again.

“I know you didn’t sleep at all after your nightmare and I really don’t feel like leaving you alone for an extended period of time. We’re going to do this one more time.”

“It almost sounds like you don’t like cuddling with me Min.”

“Why would I, you always steal the blankets.”

The two laughed, Minho turning off the lights and the two falling into their spots, relaxing at the other’s presents. They drifted off to sleep and Newt’s Flare infected mind let him go through the night without any nightmares.

Chapter Text

Newt didn’t remember waking up, or leaving the bed but suddenly he was standing by the door, launcher in hand and pointing at his friends who were almost frozen in their spots as they stared at him.

Quickly he dropped his weapons and stepped back, looking at it in fear.

“You with us now, Newt?”

He nodded weakly, leaning against the wall, not taking his eyes off the launcher. Thomas carefully came forward and kicked it away from Newt, going over to him.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, eyes full of fear.

“What happened, Tommy?”

“I don’t know, Minho said you walked out of your room like you were in a daze and the next thing we know you’re screaming about WCKD and trying to leave.”

“Did I shoot anyone?”

Thomas shook his head, gently taking Newt’s arm and pulling him into a hug. He limply returned the act, his limbs trembling. He clutched at Thomas’s shirt before they pulled away.

“You have to do it soon.”

Newt whispered to his friend who shook his head, looking at him with all the fear and concern in the world.

“Not yet. We still have time.”

A burst of anger went through him and he stepped back, glaring.

“Time for what? For me to kill you? I fucking hate you.”

His accent was thick, venom dripping from his words. He didn’t mean it but he couldn’t stop it. It felt like he was watching himself from far off, not able to control himself. He was sure if he still had his weapon Thomas would have been writhing on the floor with electricity.

“You don’t mean that, Newt.”

He snapped his head towards Minho, his fists clenching.

“Why did you have to save me? I didn’t want to be saved!”

Minho clenched his jaw, stepping up to him.

“Sorry Newt.”

He whispered before punching him, hard in the gut. He felt like his soul rushed back into his body, groaning quietly in pain.

“Thanks.”

“No problem man.”

Minho clapped him on the back, smiling at him though the expression was guarded. Guarded because of him . He was ruining his friendships. He looked at Thomas apologetically before stepping away from the door, going and sitting on the chair, his two friends watching him warily. It pained him to see them like that.

His head started pounding and he groaned, covering his eyes. Black blood slowly oozed from his nose and he squeezed his eyes shut. Everything started hurting.

“Newt, you’re bleeding.”

“I know Tommy, I can feel it.”

“No, like, everywhere.”

Newt opened his eyes and looked at his arms, every old or new scar and cut had reopened, oozing out the same black blood. His eyes widened in fear right as his scarred ankle seemed to split open. He took off his boot, black already staining his sock. He leaned against the couch, grabbing onto the fabric as he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like someone was going into him with a damn seam ripper and opening him up

Someone had started to undo some of his bandages to put new ones on but it was useless, there were too many spots and it didn’t look like it was going to end anytime soon. His ears were ringing and he leaned his head back on the couch, eyes closed and he relaxed.

~

“Newt look!”

Lizzy lifted up the mangy gray cat.

“Mom says we can keep him!”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. I wish we could though.”

She set him down,  petting the animal who rubbed up against her legs. Newt frowned, looking at the cat before scooping him up.

“I think we should hide him in our room.”

“That won’t work!”

Lizzy laughed, a noise that never failed to make Newt smile. He set the cat down and ruffled her hair, making her squeak. They found a brush and cleaned up the cat before going to bed, the cat curling up on his sister’s chest as she slept peacefully. 

He listened to the radio that played in the kitchen, the news updating them on the Flare. It was spreading from what he could tell but his parents turned it to a classical station and Newt rolled over, sighing quietly.

He knew his parents were worried, knew that they were slow dancing in the small kitchen, trying to stay positive. He knew that it was a small moment of peace before his mom woke up screaming.

Screaming?

Why was she screaming?

What was happening?

Where was he?

Newt shot up, his vision blurring at the sudden spell of dizziness. 

“Newt?”

“ She’s screaming again. ”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, registering the hand clamped on to his shoulder. His eyes focused and he saw Tommy standing beside him, looking worried. He was in someone’s t-shirt, bandages going up past the sleeves and he was in a bed.

“What’s happened?”

“You passed out after you started bleeding. You were mumbling in your sleep but we couldn’t make anything out.”

“I feel dizzy.”

“Yeah you lost a lot of blood, you should lay back down.”

Thomas helped him lean back, sitting on the side of the bed now. His brown eyes were heavy with sadness, watching Newt with the utmost concentration. 

“I’ll be okay Tommy.”

“Stop saying that. You know you’re not, don’t say that for my sake.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t look so buggin’ sad. In your own words I’m: “not dead yet”, right? So stop weeping over me.”

“I’m worried for you.”

“Then stop worrying.”

“How the hell-”

“Because there’s nothing you can do to save me.”

Newt looked at him, his face nothing but serious.

“There was nothing you could have done to save Chuck, or Teresa, or Winston or literally anyone that you’ve ever met. You can’t save everyone and you sure as hell can’t save me, so stop worrying like you can. I’m going to die and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Not even WCKD.”

Thomas stared at him and Newt was suddenly aware that he’d been holding his hand, wincing as his grip tightened on his.

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve heard from you, Newt.”

“You’re not a hero.”

His eyes fell from Newt’s face and he looked almost hurt at those words. Newt’s eyes drifted to their hands.

“You’re just a kid, Tommy. How could you possibly be a hero?”

His voice was barely a whisper, filling with pain as he squeezed Thomas’s hand, tears welling up in despair.

“ We’re just bloody kids. ”

Thomas hugged him and Newt hugged back, clinging onto the back of his shirt as he burrowed his face into his shoulder, scared to let go. Thomas was silent, holding him just as tightly. 

~

He woke up to Thomas sleeping beside him, sitting on the floor next to his bed, head on the mattress and hand gripping onto his. There was a drip IV attaching them together and Newt assumed it was to help him with the blood loss. He laid back, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep. He frowned, about to sit up when Minho came in.

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrible. How do I look?”

“Fine as hell man.”

He patted his shoulder, stepping around Thomas and smiling softly at him.

“I don’t think he would hold my hand and sleep next to me if I passed out. Or offer to give his blood up so quickly for me.”

“Don’t be so sour Minho.”

“Whatever you say, Newtie.”

He shrugged, grabbing a small stool and sitting on it.

“You don’t look as pale.”

“That’s good?”

“Hell yeah, the Reaper is finally laying off you.”

“I really don’t believe that.”

“You said you’d knock it off with that shit.”

Minho flicked his forehead, glaring a little at him.

“Stop being so depressing, you sound like Thomas.”

Newt chuckled and relaxed against his pillows, feeling a little better. He looked at Thomas and smiled softly. He was a good friend, a really good friend, despite how little they’d known each other. Newt trusted Thomas, trusted him enough to ask him to kill him if he went past crazy. Gingerly, he ran his hand through his dark hair, watching his sleeping face with a softness he rarely used.

“Scoot over.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m feeling left out.”

Minho climbed over the top of Newt and laid down beside him, laying on his back. Newt scoffed and looked over at him. Minho grinned, nudging him with his shoulder.

“You two look so cheesy, holding hands like that.”

“It’s comforting.”

“I bet, considering you haven't let go.”

“Shut up Minho.”

Shockingly he did, the three sitting in silence, comfortable. The veins that had been climbing up Newt’s neck had retreated slightly, slowing down for some reason. He felt at peace, calm, as of right now.

“They found the rest of our group.”

“They’re alive?”

Minho nodded slowly.

“They’ve been rounding up immunes, Gally told us that when we were in Denver, apparently the whole place is now overrun with Cranks, they escaped the palace.” 

“So, WCKD has our friends.”

“Newt..”

“And we’re doing nothing?”

Minho sat up, planting a firm hand on his friend’s chest so he couldn’t do the same.

“We’re in the air right now, so calm your ass. Gally is setting up a plan with the Right Arm.”

Newt sighed and Minho lifted his hand, Thomas started waking up, groaning at the ache in his limbs.

“How’d you sleep Tommyboy?”

“I shucking hurt.”

“You were practically folded in half so that makes sense.”  

“How’s Newt?”

Thomas asked, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“I’m fine.”

The boy jumped back at Newt’s voice, Minho and Newt laughing at his reaction, Thomas joining in a moment after.

“You scared the hell out of me earlier.”

“Seems like a common theme for us.”

“Did Minho tell you what’s going on?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Thomas nodded, standing up stiffly, stretching and finally letting go of Newt’s hand. The blonde carefully took out the IV, standing up and Minho followed after him, watching his friend carefully.

“Knock it off Minho.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to fall over.”

“You could.”

Newt looked at him before abruptly punching him in the arm, making the boy wince in pain. They finally left the cramped room as the berg landed. Everyone started grabbing their weapons, Newt picking up a gun to which everyone backed up. His face fell, clutching the gun protectively.

“Maybe you should stay here, Newt.”

Brendan said to him, eyeing the gun.

“They’re my friends too!”

“You could have another episode while we're out there and it could blow the whole thing.”

He looked at Gally and then at Minho and Thomas, expecting them to protest, his face falling more as they shook their heads.

“You already discussed this.”

Their faces said it all and Newt’s shoulders fell, glaring at the ground.

“We’ll see you soon Newt. Just stay here.”

“Even though that only ended us up in more shit?”

“It’s for the best.”

He stared at his best friends as they said that. They were leaving him again. Leaving because he was unstable. His hands trembled, anger closing up his throat. He didn’t let go of his gun though, walking back to his room. There was a small amount of chatter before Newt heard them leave. Leave him.

He looked at the pistol and gritted his teeth. He was going. He wasn’t going to stay here alone. They could save group A and B, they were right, he could mess that up, so he wouldn’t follow them. He was a Crank, he had nothing to be scared of anymore. 

He left the berg, not daring to look back as he walked through the sparse trees. He didn’t really know where he was going but he felt like it was the right direction, the screaming in his head growing louder and louder with each yard. Soon, the sun came up and gave him a gray sky, Newt found a hoard of Cranks, circling, walking aimlessly. Some laid on the ground, laughing or screaming, others were fighting. He slipped into the crowd easily, going to the middle which was like the eye of a hurricane, calm and almost untouched, the few Cranks inside looking scared, gnawing at their fingers.

He closed his eyes, let the screaming take over and his mind went blank.

Please Tommy, please.

Please

Please

Kill me. You were my friend once, show you can give me this one thing.

Please

Chapter Text

If Newt still had his gun he would have shot himself in the head right there. He knew he was alive, knew that something had saved him, again. He didn’t want to be saved. He never wanted to be saved. He didn’t need to be saved. How hard is it to shoot someone in the damn head? It’s a pretty big target. How do you mess that up?

He sat up, glaring at the white room, a doctor inside. They looked at him and went to say something but Newt just flipped them off.

“Slim it. I don’t need you to tell me what bloody happened and no I’m not grateful that you shucks saved. Get me an IV with either a really good drug or poison to kill me with, you can decide.”

He finally looked at the lady who stared at him in shock, he just gave her a blank expression before sighing and standing up from his bed. He walked over to the door, raising an eyebrow as he found it was unlocked and he stepped out of the room. He was in a clean sweater and jeans, which he was thankful for because it was cold as hell in the hallways. His shoes were gone, much to his disappointment. On a whim he opened a door, looking into the room to see it was a storage room. 

Newt rolled up his sleeves, seeing that all the bandages were gone along with his black veins. He walked up to a locked glass door, staring detached at the contents, eyes landing on a bottle that looked like a thick liquid. He grabbed a metal chair and slammed it into the glass without a second thought, grabbing the bottle and sighing quietly as it sloshed against the walls.

Not morphine but it was definitely something. He looked at the small writing on the back, popping it open as he saw the word alcohol, not really caring if it was drinkable or not. He drank it, walking out of the room to see people walking by. Sirens went off and he sighed, getting a bit annoyed at all these security breaches. He followed the crowd in the direction they were running to, sipping from his bottle as he walked. An explosion made the building shudder.

I wonder who that could possibly be.

He hummed quietly, his body feeling numb as he watched the WCKD staff be shot at.

“Newt?!”

It was Gally. Of course it was. He ran over to him, covering him as he took out more of the staff.

“You’re supposed to be-”

“Dead? Yeah, I’m disappointed too. What the hell are you shanks doing here?”

“Saving the immunes and Thomas.”

“Oh he got caught?”

“As part of the plan. You’re not sour about us leaving you in the berg, right?”

He laughed, giving Gally a warm smile.

“No of course not!”
He smashed the bottle into the side of his head and grabbed the launcher from him as he staggered back, clutching his bleeding head.

“Is what I would say if I was a bitch.”

He shot him in the chest, launching him backwards with the jet of electricity. He walked over and looked down at his seizing body.

“You just stay here, it’s for the best, you could blow the whole thing.”

He said sweetly, using the words that his ‘friends’ had said to him. He knew he was being insanely petty but he just couldn’t find it in him to care. They had left him behind again, he had been saved, again. He was sick of it.

“And just to put it on record, this is very personal.”

He stepped over him and slipped past the fighting, humming softly to himself, the alcohol making him feel calm and slightly fuzzy though he’d only drank half of the bottle. The next person he ran into was Ava Paige and he grinned as he spotted her.

“Newt? You should be recovering not-”

“Where’s Tommy?”

He asked, voice void of any emotions, standing right next to her, glaring, his launcher aimed at her heart.

“Why would I-”

“Because I know you shanks have him. Where is he? And God save you if you don’t tell me I will shoot you so many times your heart will have to restart three times before it finally kills you.”

He hissed and the Chancellor's face paled at his threat.

“He’s going back into the maze to get the rest of the immunes. We don’t need them anymore, there’s a flat tram from them to escape through.”

“You don’t need them?”

“No, we have enough data.”

“Oh, then where is the flat tram?”

She gave him directions and he walked around her, hearing her sigh of relief. He turned around and shot her in the back, watching her fall flat on her face before he walked away, humming again. He followed her directions and sure enough, there was Tommy, helping people get inside the flat tram. Newt looked behind him and saw Janson who stared in rage at the boy.

 “YOU! YOU MISERABLE CHILD!!”

The Crank screamed and Newt shot him, aiming at the other two nameless guards.

“Give me your goddamn guns or I’ll break your legs with my own shucking hands.”

Instead, they pointed them at him. A shot rang out from behind him and one fell, blood shooting out of their forehead. Newt turned around and there was Thomas, looking at Newt like he was seeing the dead, relief filling his eyes as he walked up to him, looking like he wanted a hug but Newt hefted up his launcher and pointed at him, making Thomas freeze.

“I begged you. I trusted you.”

“Newt, I shot you.”

“And you managed to not kill me.”

Thomas looked at him, hurt.

“I don’t understand your pain, Newt, but dying is definitely not the right answer to get away from it. Please, come with us, we can recover from this, together.”

“Together? Like how we went into Denver together or how we went together to get our friends? That type of together?”

His voice was cold, slowly turning into pain and anger. He was so sick of them leaving him but not letting him leave them.

“I’m sick of it! I’m sick of waking from nightmares and having to see them again! I hate the feeling of knowing I will never see Alby or Lizzy or my parents ever again! There’s no place in this goddamn hell hole of a world that is safe from those fucking nightmares! I DON’T WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE!”

Hot tears ran down Newt's face and his grip turned white on his weapon, staring at Thomas.

“Please don’t make me stay here Tommy. I can’t do it anymore.”

The launcher slipped out of his hands and hit the floor loudly and Thomas rushed forward, wrapping him in a hug and falling to the floor with the boy’s body as Newt sobbed in Thomas’s chest, clutching to his shirt. He stayed silent, fingers tangling into his blonde hair to keep him close, pressing his forehead to his head as he fought back his own tears.

“Don’t make me do this again, Newt. Stay with me, please. We can work through this, and I won’t leave you behind again.”

Newt didn’t respond, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Minho ran over as the building shuddered again.

“We have to go!”

He picked up Newt, who didn’t protest, as they ran into the flat tram. Gally barely managed to make it in time before the building collapsed.

Chapter Text

After the first week or two of building a community and exploring Newt had become unresponsive. He helped around, did his jobs but he didn’t talk. His eyes were far away and it was a struggle just to get him to sit still long enough to eat something. Minho had started taking groups back through the flat trams to get more materials and left over things that survived the explosions at WCKD. 

Thomas watched, frowning as he watched Newt at the edge of the woods, helping to cut down the trees, eyes fixed on his work. He’d recovered, almost to seem like he’d never been infected by the Flare at all. No one understood how but they were all silently grateful that he was still sane despite the looks they gave the boy.

Those looks made Thomas’s blood boil and Newt’s words repeated in his head. They continued to watch him like he’d snap at any moment, like he was unstable, and it made Thomas wonder what was stopping the boy from just giving up. 

Please don’t make me stay here Tommy.

His heart ached as he remembered his voice and the pleading look on his friend’s face. That night, he’d searched for his friend who was far away from the fires and houses. He was sitting, leaning against a tree and looking at the ground, hands fidgeting like it was taking everything in him not to stand up. 

“Can I sit with you?”

He didn’t get an answer but Newt scooted over silently, looking lost. Thomas watched the shell of a boy, wondering how he could help him. There were dark bags under his eyes and every limb looked like it was shaking with tiredness. 

“Newt, can you look at me?”

He shook his head weakly, his fingers picking at his skin. Thomas sighed softly and cupped the blonde's face gently, making him look at him. His distant hazel eyes finally looked at Thomas, actually seeming to register he was sitting there.

“What are you doing?”

His accent was thick and his voice was hoarse from its lack of use but it made Thomas’s heart flutter and a ridiculous amount of relief flow through him.

“Looking at you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like seeing your eyes.”

“You don’t look scared.”

“Why would I be?”

Newt shrugged, his eyes falling from Thomas’s, sighing quietly.

“That’s how everyone else looks at me.”

“They don’t know you like I do.”

His hands stopped fidgeting and he turned to look at Thomas, eyes softening and taking Thomas’s hands in his.

“Is that a good thing, to know me?”

“It’s the best thing.”

Newt finally smiled and Thomas could help himself, slipping a hand behind the blonde's head and gently pulling him in and kissing him. Newt squeezed his hand gently, closing his eyes as he kissed back. Thomas didn’t want to pull away, not when his lips filled him with so much warmth it felt like they were sitting right next to a fire, but he did. Newt didn’t open his eyes immediately, leaning into Thomas’s hand as it slid into the blonde's hair. His eyelashes fluttered as he looked at him finally, tired and flushed but his eyes sparkling in a way Thomas hadn’t realized he’d missed.

He kissed him again and Newt exhaled softly, weaving their hands together and holding tightly.

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

“So am I Tommy.”