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newtmassssssssssss · 20 hours ago

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sometimes i think about how thomas was genuinely considering letting WICKED literally extract his brain to try find a cure right after newt died and then i don’t want to think anymore

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newtmassssssssssss · 20 hours ago

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somehow, you survived

pairing: newt x thomas.

word count: ~1000

summary: thomas is having a rough night in the safe haven.

a/n: i got inspired by the deleted scene by the fire in the scorch trials !! also this is my first time posting a fic on here, kinda scary

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The crash of the ocean was heavy—not with fury, but with a weight. Reminiscent of the desperate cry of someone who needed to be heard. The sky looming above was dark like ink, or in Thomas’ mind, the blood spilling from Newt that night. That horrible black goo from his mouth. The puncture in his chest. The wind howled, and Thomas swore he could still hear him. “Tommy…”

His brain wouldn’t stop tormenting him.

“Tommy.” it repeated. Thomas didn’t move from his position curled up against a boulder, far too close to the edge than what was safe. His arms were held around himself, as if that familiar pressure could hold the rest of him together, and keep him from falling apart.

It was only when a gentle, but firm hand was settled on his shoulder that Thomas snapped back to the present. He whipped around, his instinct kicking in and— Newt.

“Can’t sleep?” Newt’s voice rang out through the quiet of the night, only disrupted by the waves.

Thomas didn’t immediately respond. Newt… Newt was right here. Alive. He wasn’t dead. He had to remind himself again. He had that unrelenting dream every time he closed his eyes since that night in the Last City—just like what had happened when Chuck died—which only fuelled his inability to sleep.

Except, this was different. Newt wasn’t dead. He found it hard to believe after the haunting images that would plague his mind after any moment of rest. His lifeless eyes staring back at him. His limp body frailly laying there on the floor—dead. He could remember the moment when he got onto the Berg. He thought he must’ve been dying when he saw Newts body also there too, although one thing was missing — that knife. The WICKED branded knife stabbed into his body in a WICKED suit. Ironic, if you thought about it. But, that shouldn’t have been possible. He stopped breathing, right? By some miracle, Newt persevered, just as he always did, even when he didn’t necessarily want to.

“Thomas?” His voice repeated when the boy was sitting there, just staring at him almost blankly with glazed over eyes. “Let’s get you up, yeah?” His steady voice continued with a reassuring squeeze on Thomas’ shoulder.

Thomas took a few moments but just almost imperceptibly nodded. Newt’s lips offered the faintest smile, more trying to comfort Thomas than it being genuine. Thomas felt as if he was underwater when he stood up, like he was walking through molasses. His body didn’t feel like his own.

He stood there, analysing the older boy like he had never seen him before. Newt noticed, of course he did.

“What’s going on?” Newt asked him, too observant for his own good.

It wasn’t just today. It had been every day since Thomas had woken up in the Safe Haven. The small glances at Newt when he thought he wasn’t looking. The push and pull of distancing himself while also trying to be as close as he could. The ongoing and casual excuses to touch Newt’s arm, shoulder, back—just to ground himself that he was actually there. Even now as they stood there, Thomas was unconsciously brushing shoulder with Newt — just barely, but noticeably.

“C’mon,” Newt said after a few moments, patting his shoulder again with a small tip of his head towards the shelter. “Let’s go back, yeah?” He continued.

Thomas wordlessly nodded just once again, that was all he could muster at the moment.

The pair walked back in silence, the sound of their boots sinking into the damp sand being the only exception. Usually, they both slept relatively near each other, but this time Newt had lead Thomas to just his hammock, and Thomas had mindlessly followed him with no questions asked.

Newt gestured for him to climb in, and Thomas—still in a bit of a daze—settled into the hammock. Then, surprising them both, Newt climbed in too.

They lay there awkwardly, side by side in the cramped hammock which barely fit one. Thomas stayed silent.

Newts voice broke the quiet. “You, uh… wanna talk about it?” He asked, now being more aware of what he just did.

Thomas was in his hammock. With him. He could feel Thomas’ body freeze up beside him as soon as he asked for that story, the boy’s gaze being locked downwards.

“Or not… if you want.” Newt added, his voice tinged with an unusual softness.

Thomas stayed there, practically a statue, before speaking up after long pause. “It was you…” He started, his voice rough and shaky, unlike his usual demeanour.

Already, that told Newt everything he had to know, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Newt…” Thomas swallowed hard. “I just can’t get that night out of my head.” The words cracked under the weight of the long, sleepless nights he’s had over this reoccurring nightmare.

Newt glanced over at Thomas for a few moments before speaking up. “I know I’m not able to change what happened. And I probably can’t say anything to make it better, either,” He thought for a second before continuing. “But… I’m here. You’re here. We’re both safe now, alright? And I know that it’s sometimes hard to believe, but anytime you need a reminder—I’ll be right here.” Thomas finally looked back over at Newt and nodded, his throat bobbing with suppressed emotions.

Newt carefully reached over a hand to Thomas’ shoulder and gave it small squeeze before deciding to just do what felt right. He gently nudged Thomas’ shoulder so that he’d turn onto his side and wrapped an arm, lightly at first, around Thomas’ torso. He could feel the tension in the other boys body and quickly started to regret his decision—had he been too forward? His doubt swiftly cleared away when he felt Thomas slightly sinking back into Newt’s embrace. Newt slowly moved his hand to Thomas’ own hand, brushing his thumb against his knuckles.

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newtmassssssssssss · 4 days ago

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*slides this edit underneath your door*