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zer0brainc3lls · 16 days

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I bet on losing dogs pt4

masterlist

story summary: what if newtmas was canon in the death cure and there was a plot change?

word count: 8.3k

TW LIST: detailed gore, detailed mentions of blood loss, typical canon violence. let me know if i missed any!!

Newt's bones and eyes are still so so heavy but he has woken up, the muscles in his eyes twitch to open but his brain screams at him before he moves. DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES his survival instincts holler at him, he can't trust anyone anymore except his own heavy body. Where are you? Newt feels that the room is cold, his arms and legs are strapped down by what feels to be.. Warm leather. The leather is warm, he's been there a long time. He hears bombs raging on in the distance, it's muffled. Are you hurt? Newt can still feel his right palm stick against the bandages Minho had applied along with deep discomfort, his hand feels exposed despite being covered. His face still sears with agony from the scratches and his wrists whine in overuse. His bad leg screams at him, the muscles feel tight and raw under his flesh but despite that he has no new injuries except he feels a prick in his lower arm.

He feels blood being drained from his arm, his senses heightened already to pick up the sound of quiet breathing, along with heavy footsteps not too far away pacing rhymically. Keep your breathing steady he continued to breath at the pace he was earlier, his chest rising and falling in time with the steps. Who's in the room? The person who is drawing his blood is steady, clearly trained because the pain in his arm is very miniscule. Ava Paige is dead and the halls of the tower were empty, wait. Teresa had called for him to come back so she must have been waiting, Teresa is drawing his blood. The heavy footsteps boom louder with every step, presumably Janson. “What's taking so long?!” the ratman snaps. “He's dehydrated, the blood is barely coming out.” Teresa replies, her voice wobbling slightly. As if her words summoned it, his throat scratches at every breath he takes in as his head pounds desperate for water.

After a minute or two, Teresa finishes extracting his blood and removes the needle from his arm. Newt knows where he is, who he's with and what state he's in. He's not going to learn anything else with his eyes closed. open your eyes Newt listens and slowly opens his not so heavy eyelids and says, his voice scratching “why don't you just kill me?” his eyes drawn to the gray haired man. Janson turns and speaks in a low voice “no we don't want to do that Newt” he walks ever so slowly, almost taunting him. “We're going to take special care of you. We’ll keep you alive, just. And in return, you give life to the rest of us..” The crank turns on his heels at a snail pace, reaching out for something and making all of two steps back to newt. Holding a cylinder tube with a cap he ever so slowly removes and places to the side, the tip of the needle mocking him. The small see-through part of the mostly black cylinder glows a light blue. Desperation and rage bubble in his blood at the sight, the syringe Newt desperately needs, the serum he would give his own life for just out of reach.

The serum. Thomas’s serum.

“The ones we chose to save anyway.” The putrid crank carefully pulls up his sleeve, extending his arm out as he does so making sure Newt sees his arm. His arm is covered in black veins, almost like a web that's been woven together without care or direction spreading anywhere and everywhere. His arm is coated in a thin layer of dirt unlike the rest of his body, as if the flare itself is dirty. Newt's eyes are drawn away from the spider's web before him, up to the needle tip that Janson is waving right in front of his eyes. He smirks maniacally, his eyes wide and dangerous. He creeps the needle tip towards his arm.

…

“DONT YOU FUCKING DARE JANSON” the rage in his gut spreading to his throat, his arms, his legs, his bones and muscles. he wildly pulls against his restraints as if will stop the cruel crank, Janson taunts him by dragging out the process for as long as possible. Inching closer and closer and every centimetre he gets he somehow gets even slower, all the while Newt is screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. His throat burns as he screams. Somehow, Janson knows Thomas is infected and he's determined to remind Newt of this fact. How dare he taunt him?! Years and years of suffering, watching gladers die gruesome deaths and hearing their god awful screams knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to save them. He can't let Thomas die, not now! He's the reason they got out of that maze, he saved his best friends' lives and gave him freedom, hope. For ONCE in his life he felt something other than complete hopelessness the day Thomas killed that griever. Newt finally had something to run for, to push for. Thomas made him believe in a future. He fought almost every battle he could, escaping the maze, fleeing from wicked, making it to the right arm, finding minho. He has one final job to do and that is to save thomas. the one thing he has left to fight for is JUST out of his reach, if he could just MOVE HIS GODDAMN HANDS-

SMASH

Janson falls to the floor in a spray of glass, his head thumping against the hospital floor. Teresa stood behind him breathing heavily, she quickly snatches the syringe off the floor before removing Newts restraints. Relief floods through Newt's body and he fights to shake from the nonstop adrenaline that he believes may never stop coursing through him after this night. Teresa mumbles something that doesn't reach Newt's ears while she struggles with a buckle, Newt desperately trying to assist her wriggles his way up and away from the leather. Teresa removes the restraint before the crank whose head is dripping with blood grabs Teresa by the hair and throws her across the room with an inhumane amount of strength, Teresa slides across a table of medical equipment before falling onto the cold ground. “TERESA” Newt screeches before using his bandaged hand to try undo the rest of his body, he fights a whine at the back of his throat at the pain that boils under his palm as he does. He struggles to ignore the fact that his once white bandages are becoming crimson and sticky.

Newt blocks out the screaming and fighting not even a metre away, only focusing on the buckles. Eventually he frees himself and he hears a loud THUNK and a lack of high pitched screams, Teresa's limp body crumples to the floor, her eyes shut tightly. A machete shines under the fluorescent hospital light, his machete. Jansons' eyes notice quicker and he's already snatched it, his teeth bared wildly. Newts runs and pounces at Janson, both bodies flying out the door of the hospital room and into an equally bright hallway. Newt and Janson tumble around on the ground, punches thrown and kicks landing into stomachs and faces. Janson barely uses the blade, only slicing Newt hesitantly across his shoulder blade and arm, clearly having no clue how to wield the blade. Fucking pathetic. If the machete were in Newt's hand however? Janson would've been dead already. If it weren't for Jansons flare enhanced strength Newt would have overpowered his pen pusher body by now, machete or not.

Janson manages to deliver a heavy blow to the side of Newt's head, the world spins and darkens for a moment. He stumbles to the ground, trying to reel his consciousness back to him. The crank straddles him with the machete to his neck, pressing down slightly blood drips from Newt's neck. The cut is nowhere near deep, in fact Newt barely feels the small cut. “He was never supposed to be in the maze!” Janson spat, Newt has a firm grip on Jansons wrist keeping the machete from getting any deeper than a paper cut. “But he just had to go after you and all your little friends didn't he? So brave so.. Caring” the end of his sentence reeks of sarcastic sweetness, Newts grip gets impossibly tighter as he attempts to push Janson away to no avail. “The one thing Ava did right was making you The Glue, so desperate. Putting his life above your own? Their lives above your own?” Newt tries to kick up with his feet and push Jansons body off with his core, he squirms around desperately trying to get out from underneath the vile crank.

BANG

Janson drops the machete, his arm goes limp for a moment. Newt seizes the opportunity and pushes Janson off him and snatches the machete off the floor and scrambles up to his feet, blood pumping in his ears. He looks up to find Teresa holding a small pistol, eyes wide looking down at Janson. More specifically his shoulder which is now seeping with blood. Her body is stiff and unwavering, her hair tangled around the back from Jansons cruel fingers. Her breaths are quick and shallow, her bottom lip quivering.

“We need to go-!” Newt's authoritarian tone is cut short by bombs that make the floor shake and cause both him and Teresa to fall to the ground, Janson who was on his hands and knees attempting to stand falls flat on his stomach. Smoke and ash fill his lungs and burn his eyes, the light above flickering on and off, wires spark with electricity bouncing off the ceiling and walls. The pistol that Teresa held moments ago flies from her hands as she falls, landing right next to Jansons body ready for the taking when he eventually stands his ground.

Newt somehow gains his footing despite being in a much weaker state than Teresa, grabbing the back of her white coat insisting they need to move. Without hesitation she too scrambles to her feet as they run down the hallway, his body mimicking a rusty doll in need of oil as he moves, every step becoming more and more agonising. Bullets spray down the hallway just before they duck into the next, his bum leg getting weaker by the second. “In here!!” Teresa shrieks, pulling Newt through two glass double doors that move apart on their own. They stumble into a large what seems to be a testing room..? The right wall lined with thick glass and well past the gone crank inside, banging on the glass in ripped up dirty hospital gowns. The back wall and centre of the room filled with small tables with medical equipment and the largest object in the room being a large cylinder machine Newt couldn't even fathom the name of. Newts bum leg drips.. Drips?

Newt looks down to find a gunshot wound embedded into his right thigh.

His breath hitches at the sight, he collapses to the floor almost hitting his head against a metal cabinet before Teresa grabs him and lowers him to the ground. Teresa brows furrowed in concentration immediately, she scrambles through cabinets and seconds later she finds what she's looking for. A long white cloth and small scalpel. SCALPEL?? Newt's eyes widen in shock and he considers scrambling away from her even though she's a trained doctor. “I'm not cutting you, I need something for the tourniquet.” right. Newt remembers Jorge showing him how to tie one of those a few times, you need something to put in it to act as a “torsion device” Newt's body settles significantly and she allows Teresa to cut off his pant leg and wrap the cloth around his now scarlet soaked leg. Her fingers and arms work quickly, she's mumbling steps to herself throughout the quick and painful process. Newt hisses in pain as she tightens the cloth, “sorry, if it hurts-” “that means it's working, i know-” - he hisses and scrunches his eyes closed - “Jorge told me.”

Teresa finishes the tourniquet and takes the now cut off pant leg and starts to instruct Newt to press down on the wound, as if he hasn't done that already tonight before the sound of the glass doors opening once more interrupts her. Heavy footsteps walk ever so slowly into the room, Janson calls out for teresa. Teresa quickly leaves Newt's side and scrambles behind the desk, Janson goes on a long winding speech about the girl and her betrayals. Newts mind drifts away from the sounds of teresa shifting around the room and jansons taunting, he barely notices when his own body shifts to get away from the cranks watchful eye. Newt is only thinking about two things, how dry Thomas's blood is on Newt's hands. it coats his palms and fingers, the way it trapped itself underneath his dirty nails. How much time does Thomas have left? Does he have any time left at all? Or has his heart come to a steady stop along with Newt's ability to think about anything other than survival?

The second thing being how Jansons undeserving body receives blood from his icy heart every second that passes, every heavy footstep being assisted by his flare infested brain that is undeserving of the ash tainted air. How is Janson allowed to walk while so many boys lay dead in the deadheads? How is Janson allowed to breathe while Albys lungs receive no such sensation and never will again? How is Janson allowed to point a gun towards someone else while Winston willingly turned on to himself? So many deaths and screams haunt his mind, will his mind ever quiet again? Or will he forever be forced to hear their screams whenever he breathes?

Oh.. the world is escaping him now, everything is focusing and unfocusing as if he was taking glasses on and off again. What is that sound? White noise buzzes almost inside his head, his brain shaking for blood. “Don't you have enough blood on your hands already?!” Janson calls out, oh his talking to him. Who else would he be talking to? Newt realises that his hands are shaking violently, how long have they been doing that for? “Your little friend Thomas might not have been able to shoot her.. But I can!” Newt senses are impossibly heightened so much so he can hear the gun rattle in Jansons palms,

Newt looks towards Janson, black veins pulsing up his neck.. His neck. Newt looks down at his machete which is covered in now half dried blood, his own blood. The machete shimmers under the flickering lights calling to him, the handle almost slips itself into Newt's hand as he wobbles to stand. “JANSON!!” he screams, tumbling towards the crank. Janson turns to point the gun towards the blonde but is much too slow because by the time his pupils almost disappear in shock at Newt's raised arm it's too late for him. Newts arm and shoulder muscles tighten as he slashes his machete across Jansons throat, the blade swipes effortlessly into his flesh, unlike Janson Newts slash is not hesitant or unpracticed. The gun that once shook in the cranks palms drops to the floor as he claws at his throat, blood dripping from his mouth as he falls to the floor choking on crimson.

Once Janson drops to the floor all the strength newt gathered deep within his bones all slips away from him, Teresa grabs his arm and helps him hobble out of the room with her. Any and all tension snaps, Newt in this moment feels no hatred towards her because in this moment they both want the same things, to survive this nightmare along with thomas. Wires all around them blow and light up with electricity, the halls reek of ash and gunpowder as they stumble towards a stairwell. Teresa’s voice orders him to move in certain directions and he does what he's told with no argument, they enter a stairwell, the stairs leading down boom in fire. Teresa leads them up the stairs, Newt desperately trying to take some of his weight off her shoulders.

They climb and climb until Teresa uses her free hand to open a door taking them onto the roof, everything around them burns violently, the sheer brightness burns into newts eyes. Teresa turns back around to go back into the stair well before that too, explodes in bright fire. Newt can almost see the hopelessness radiating off of her, her mind finally coming to a stop and realising it over, their done. Dead. They had failed.

Newt's body finally gives out, crashing to the ground along with Teresa who tries to break his fall. Teresa's chest rises and falls as she gasps for air desperately, the sky starts to slowly swirl together. Teresa reaches into her pocket and hands Newt the syringe he came back for. “I knew you would come back.” she said, her tone impossibly soft as if the world was not on fire. “I knew you would help me.” Newt responds in the same manner, in this moment, in this fire, Newt cannot hate the girl that holds her. He will never forgive her but he cannot hate her. “I- i dont want to die Teresa.” The words escape his chapped lips and his fogged brain before he has the chance to bite his tongue, he struggles to speak with the ash in his lungs. He knew the likelihood of his return ending in his death, but now that he is faced with it burning all around him he's never felt such despair in his life. Even in death he couldn't keep his promise. “Me neither.” her voice tremors now, another understanding. Her tone is ridden with guilt, not the same guilt Newt carries in his chest but guilt all the same.

White noise blares in his ears, the noise gets closer and closer.. Teresa turns to look in front of them, Newt turns also to see that the noise is the berg. The berg!! “C’MON!!” Teresa commands, lifting Newt to his feet, practically dragging him to the edge of the building. Newt holds the syringe impossibly tight in his hands, his eyes fighting to stay open as he searches for Thomas in the berg. His bones heavy and tired attempt to put up one final fight, his body searches for one final push of adrenaline to get him and Teresa onto the berg. The berg is so close yet so far, Newt's hand grazes Vince's before falling once more. “YOU HAVE TO GET CLOSER” Teresa shouts, gally shouts something along those lines to the pilot who Newt can only assume to be Jorge. The berg swings back and forth, building around them crumbling down. Teresa holds onto Newt and pushes him to the berg with one big push, Newt feels hands grip his upper arms pulling him onto the ship.

Newt looks around the ship, his eyes landing on Thomas only a few steps away. Steps his legs cannot take him. Everyone around him is shouting out to Teresa, part of Newt wants to help her but he has a promise to keep. So he crawls, his bad leg weighs him down as his arms fight to pull his body along. His tourniquet slowly becomes looser as he crawls across the floor, leaving a trail of blood as he moves. He's not far now, PUSH GODDAMNIT his brain screams. Newt considers injecting it into Thomas’s palm just to get the serum in him faster but decides against it, refusing to risk the one and only vial they have. His arms shake as he pulls himself one final time before injecting the serum into Thomas's upper arm with a firm click. He did it. It's over. He kept his promise. Minho and Thomas are alive.

His vision swirls once the blue liquid finally empties out of the syringe in what has got to be the longest 5 seconds of his life, his body goes limp as he lets his arm fall. His brain slowly flips into unconsciousness as the berg rumbles with an upward descent, he faintly heard feet rushing towards him and barely feels minho flip him onto his back. “STAY WI-” the rest of Minho’s words are unheard as white noise becomes the only sound in the world, faces and arms crowd his vision and body, fingers and hands touching all his injuries that were well worth it in Newt's mind. Newt turns his head to see Thomas’s face that is now soft and calm in a peaceful sleep as his chest rises and falls, the black veins slowly becoming less visible. He’d truly done it. He saved Thomas.

That's Newt's final thought before his vision finally escapes him.

It's been almost 2 days since Newt woke up in the safe haven, and for the past 2 days he has had doctors speak to him, getting his vitals taken, being forced to eat and drink, being banned from walking without a cane as if he's an old man, has had his bandages changed and he's not seen a single person he knows. Doctors have asked him his pain level, how he's feeling, how he’s coping, and he has barely said a word to them. Newt could speak, if he wanted to. Doctors speak about him as if he's not there, they say he's in shock. The past 2 days have not felt like days, everything blurs together in one big jumble of memories. Everything seems so distant, even the present moment he's in now, which is another one of these doctors attempting conversation.

“You have been in the safe haven for 2 days, did you know that?” the doctor says. Yes I did, I have heard this countless times. Newt shrugs and refuses to look at said doctor, he just wants to see someone, anyone he knows. “Is Tommy ok?” he asks for about the billionth time, one of his few repeated phrases. “When can I see him? Or anyone?” the doctor sighs, as if Newt is forcing him to be there before he says “speaking of that.. One of my colleagues informed your friends about your condition so they should-”

The doctor is interrupted by Minho, Brenda, Frypan and Gally all crashing into the room at once. “NEWT!!” Minho practically screams, running over and pulling him into the world's tightest hug. The doctor stands and leaves the room smiling happily to himself. Newt's body floods with happiness for the first time in 48 hours as he hugs him back weakly, his face buried into his neck. He feels Brenda hugging him from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder. “Hurry up! I wanna get in there!” Frypan ushers Minho away after a minute or two before clapping both his hands on both of Newt's shoulders “how you doing?” he asks warmly “much better now!” Newt exclaims, his lips curve into a wide smile. He feels giddy, giddy like a kid on Christmas finally getting the toy they begged for. “Hey dude.” gally says, his arms crossed with a slight smile. “Hey man!” he says, refusing the impossible urge to squeal in pure excitement, for once in 2 long days he finally feels present in a moment, the past 48 hours a mere sad blur that no longer exists in his mind.

Then he realises, someone is missing. “Minho,” - Newt turns to face him and takes a deep breath - “is Tommy ok?” Minho’s smile turns into a cheeky grin before saying “about that..” he steps towards the door, pulling it open and reaches his arm to the side, tugging on something. “TADA!!” Minho pulls Thomas in the room by his shirt, Thomas’s eyes widen in shock at Newts state, Newts eyes widen as his eyes drift to Thomas's stomach. No knife, no blood. He's really ok. Newt feels Brenda's arms slip away from him and he hears her ushering everyone except Thomas out of the room. Newt and Thomas both pause for a moment, Their eyes locking in pure disbelief before Thomas practically sprints over and pulls Newt into the softest hug possible. Newt's body relaxes significantly, his forehead resting on Thomas's shoulder while one of his hands cups Thomas's face. “It worked, it actually worked” he whispers, his eyes filled with tears that threaten to spill. “That was the longest two days of my life” Thomas whispers back with a twinge of humour, Newt laughs, his gut fluttering at the sound of Thomas's voice and his reciprocated laughter.

Thomas pulls back slightly, his eyes almost droopy as he smiles looking into Newt's eyes. His gaze drifts to Newt's cheeks and his eyes widen significantly, his smile dropping. Thomas goes to speak, his brows furrowed before Newt promptly interrupts him. “I won't hear none of that, ya hear me? It's only a couple stitches tommy.” “Only?!” Newt scooches over allowing Thomas to sit down, after taking his shoes off. He sits with his legs crossed on the surprisingly large hospital cot. “That's nothing! i’ve got a high pain tolerance, barely felt a thing. Don't you worry your pretty head about it.” Newt teases, tapping Thomas's temple Thomas keeps his hands in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Well go on then.” Newt folds after a few seconds, allowing Thomas to cradle his face and examine his wounds. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows down what Newt can only assume to be the apologies swirling in his brain. “What did I just say?” Newt scolds.

“Is there anymore? I heard you got.. Shot.” Thomas ignores Newt's playful scolding, his doe eyes full of worry. Newt doesn't know how to answer, he doesn't want to lie to Thomas but he knows that if he tells the truth.. oh yeah and I also got a few stitches on my arm, shoulder and hand too! My gunshot wound nearly killed me by the way! Thomas would never forgive himself. He's always so goddamn forgiving but the moment something happens that's not even his fault that he's remotely tied to he makes it his mission to flip the situation and pin the blame on himself, he won't understand that the wounds were well worth it, he won't understand that Newt would have rather died than not at least try to save him-

“Newt? You ok?” Thomas says softly, cupping the side of his face with one hand now, being gentle as to not touch his stitches because of course he does. “You sort of zoned out there” Thomas, who is the loudest, bravest and the biggest “act now think later” person in the whole entire world is somehow changes into the most caring and tender person ever whenever he's around Newt and it always makes Newt crumble into tiny little pieces, he couldn't lie to him right now even if he tried. “Yeah.. i did uhm- get shot.. Don't freak-”

“WHAT??”

“I knew you would do that!!”

“do what?!”

“act like the biggest shuckfaced idiot that's ever stepped foot on the bloody planet that's what!!”

“You got shot because of me!”

“I didn't get shot because of you, I got shot FOR you!!”

“...”

“Love. When you..” - Newt takes a deep breath before continuing - “passed out, i don't know if you heard but i.. ran back to the tower-”

“YOU WHAT??”

“Don't interrupt!”

“...”

“You were dying Tommy. I had to go back! You don't know what you looked like.. What I saw. Long story short me and Janson got in a fight and I got a couple cuts” - Newt pulls his collar down to expose his bandages, afterwards pulling up his sleeve to show the bandaged cut on his upper arm. Thomas’s eyes got wider and glasser the more he spoke - “and yes I got shot. But it was worth it tommy! You lived.. That's all I wanted.” - Newt takes Thomas's hand in his, rubbing the back of his knuckles. - “Ok?” Newt's throat tightens at his last word, making his word wobble despite his tone being steady recounting the tale.

Thomas pauses for a moment, he opens his mouth as if he wants to protest but quickly closes it. He presses his lips into a thin line while squeezing Newt’s hand. “Thank you, for saving me.” He mumbles, barely audible. If Newt wasn't so close and the room wasn't so quiet he wouldn't have been able to hear the low whisper. Newt doesn't think saying your welcome is exactly appropriate so instead, he squeezes Thomas's hand for a moment before smiling warmly his way. Plump lips smile back at Newt, Thomas’s head tilting to the side ever so slightly as he smiles in a way that makes Newt's face glow with warmth. Newt doesn't realise he's staring at Thomas's lips until Thomas reciprocates the action, they both pause for a moment before Thomas leans in and gently kisses him.

He tastes like toothpaste and saltwater. Newt keeps his hand in Thomas’s, Thomas’s hands have always been so soft, so warm. Newt places his other hand on Thomas's shoulder, Newt's gut swirls when Thomas's hums against his lips, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. Newt's hand makes its way from his shoulder to the back of Thomas's head, pushing Thomas closer in an attempt to deepen the kiss before the brunette pulls away. “What was that for?!” Newt asked, displeased, with no real anger behind his words. “First of all, we're in a hospital room.” - Thomas kisses the corner of Newt's mouth before continuing in a whisper - “Second of all, you're recovering. So maybe not now, mkay?” “you Thomas are a bloody tease”

“uh oh ‘Thomas’ should i be worried?” Thomas replied sarcastically, only a few inches from Newt's face. “Yeah, maybe you should be” Newt spoke in the same manner, attempting to kiss Thomas again before Thomas lightly pushed him back before exclaiming

“what did i just say!”

“finee.” Newt pouted in pretend annoyance before they both broke out into a fit of laughter, Newt’s cheeks slowly began to ache from all the smiling.

Its officially been a week since Newt arrived in the safe haven and today is finally the day he is getting discharged from the makeshift hospital they have set up, over the past 5 days Thomas, Minho, Brenda, Frypan and Gally all came by to visit often, Thomas and Minho the most by far. Thomas visited at least once a day, sometimes multiple if he wasn't busy. Constantly asking how he was doing, telling Newt about about the safe haven and how Frypans “still got it”, Thomas tells Newt about the fields and spots he wants to take him, about the hut he's been assigned and how nice it is to sleep in a bed instead of sleeping bags, Newt listens intently as he talks about his slow lazy days since Thomas is still recovering from his knife wound. But those days are finally over because Thomas is on his way to help Newt hobble out of the hospital doors insisting he wants to help, despite the fact Newt has a cane. Newt is beyond ecstatic to get out of the dingy hospital room and move in with Thomas, they both agreed on that since they haven't slept apart for almost 6 months anyway so why change now?

Newt sat impatiently on top of his hospital bed, cane in his lap as he fiddled with the corner of the blanket waiting for Thomas to get there. His heart beat thumping in his ears like a clock, ticking by as the seconds pass. He can't help but wonder if walking is going to be harder now, he's barely stood up for more then a minute or two so how is he going to do walking longer distances? … the sand is a whole different ball game. Newt would rather walk in the sand than stay in the hospital another night though.

As if on cue the door swings open and Thomas stands there grinning from ear to ear boyishly. Thomas walks over and extends his hand out, bowing as if Newt is a king or something. Newt rolls his eyes while Thomas laughs, but accepts Thomas's hand gratefully despite the sarcasm. Newt slowly stands to his feet unable to suppress the hiss that escapes his lips, his eyes scrunching as pain shoots through his whole leg. His fingers that are now interlocked with Thomas's squeeze significantly tighter, leaning slightly against Thomas's arm to keep him upright.

“Are you sure you're ready to-?” “Tommy, I would rather get shot again then stay here for one more bloody night.” Thomas’s eyes flick upwards immediately to make eye contact with Newt, his eyes widening in shock. “I'm joking! but please for the love of god get me out of here.” His eyes soften once more when Newt responds, they both slowly but surely begin to walk towards the doors of the makeshift hospital. Every step Newt limps and occasionally having to fight back a wince, he can't help but be reminded of when he first broke his leg and Minho and Alby had to help him walk around similarly to how Thomas is now. Eventually they make it to the rickety door made out of wood and sticks, Thomas uses his free hand to open the door and Newt gasps at the sight.

Newt has yet to see the safe haven until now, he heard waves occasionally but he didn't expect the water to be so bright, the way the sun bounces off the crystal blue water almost makes it look like a large gem. In the distance there is a large cliff covered in grass and flowers, in fact the whole safe haven besides the beach is covered in bright, healthy green grass. The sun doesn't burn Newt's shoulders or arms either, it's warm and calming. There's a large unlit bonfire in the distance along with a large stone which appears to have carvings on it, surrounding the bonfire there is small wooden structures with beams and steps for people to sit at and hammocks are set up underneath roofs, a large communal kitchen which Frypan is stationed at as well. There's people of all ages sitting, walking, running, laughing, talking or just sitting in silence enjoying the peace. Newt lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when Thomas squeezes his hand to bring him back to the present.

“It's so.. Calm?” His words come out as a question instead of a statement, Newt didn't mean to sound curious but the truth is he is curious. How do they keep order? How do they keep things running around here? “The others were shocked too, speaking of them you want to get dinner?” Newt's stomach growled at the suggestion, his eyebrows raised. Thomas doesn't move and simply waits for Newt's response. “Well c'mon then! I'm not getting there on my own!” he says playfully before attempting to speed up his walking despite Thomas's protests, Eventually Newt's leg refuses to get with the program and they are forced to a leisurely pace towards the unlit bonfire hand in hand. The gentle breeze lifting any heaviness left in his chest, the sound of grass under his shoes keeping him in the present instead of the past full of sand and hatred.

The sky above is mixed with oranges, pinks and gentle clouds as the sun slowly begins to set, the air slowly getting colder as the afternoon turns to night. As time passes by people with unknown voices and faces to match dwindle away to hammocks or huts if owned, and all the remains are the few gladers that remain paired with clinking of utensils and fits of laughter. Even Gally joining in on the smiles and giggles, sweet tasting alcohol Newt can't be bothered to ask the name of eventually being passed around. Maybe one day in the future, nearby or distant they will speak of the scorch and wicked but not tonight. Tonight is for stars and laughter that bubbles in his chest and makes Newt’s face hurt, tonight is for joy.

Newt is sitting with his crappy leg elevated by a small log. Thomas insisted on running around for five minutes trying to find it, lifting Newt's leg and placing it on top of the log saying “it helps with swelling!” Newt found the sight of slightly tipsy Thomas running around in the grass to find the log very endearing, repressing a fit of giggles when Thomas threw his hands in the air and whooped in excitement at the find. Newt's other leg is pressed against his chest, his arms hugging around it. Frypan grins to himself as he collects everyone except Gallys cleared plates, Gally still working on his meal scoffing down his food. “Fry you gotta step up your game man!” He exclaims between mouthfuls. “Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I-“ - Frypan goes to take Gally half eaten plate of food before Gally swats away his hand with a scowl. - “that’s what I thought!” He beams with a sarcastic grin “Fuck off man!” gally attempts to sound harsh, the slight grin on his face making it clear he’s not mad. Frypan walks away, plates and cups stacked skilfully, he laughs the whole way back to the kitchen before he’s too far away to hear.

Minutes later Gally licks his plate clean before walking off to the kitchen, “I forgot what actual food tastes like, that shit we had in the scorch was driving me nuts!” Minho’s voice slicing through the silence, the bright fire warming Newt’s sore body. “If that ain't the buggin’ truth.” Newt replied with much less enthusiasm, his voice dipping into soft silence. a comfortable wave of exhaustion crashing down onto him. Soon Gally and Frypan made their way back and everyone drifted back into comfortable conversation and laughter, the warmth of the fire and eventually Thomas's arm wrapped around him made Newt's eyes feel heavy and body like jelly, sinking into feeling his eyes threatening to pull him away from the magical night. The voices of the people he cared about most dearly all mixed together into one beautiful unintelligible chorus as consciousness escaped him, except tonight he knew that no matter what, when he woke, he would be safe. No more cranks or running from wicked, only Thomas's arms and friends' laughter made him wish not to sleep.

Newt drifted from half consciousness to being asleep and back again over the course of 30 minutes, an hour? He couldn't tell anymore. Newt feels Thomas's breath on his ear, his lips less than a inch away as he whispers “hey hun, we gotta get up c'mon.” Newt groans in response, not wanting to wake up yet, he pulls his eyes open to find the sky has turned to darkness covered in bright stars. The fire dwindled, barely illuminating any light. In the distance Newt can see Minho’s slightly wider build compared to when they found him at wicked walking off, his legs more steady and sure. Newt's body felt heavy, his brain fogged with exhaustion. “I don't think i could stand even if I wanted to Tommy” his lips tugging upwards into a tired smile, trying to avoid the inevitable.

“Then I'll carry you!”

“What?!”

“Cmon! Up you get!” Thomas is crouched now, one arm hooked under Newt's legs, the other hooked around his upper body attempting to lift him. Newt shrieked and tried to wriggle out of Thomas's grip to no avail, “I was joking!! Put. me. DOWN-!” Thomas quickly stands and spins around in circles quickly, Newt's cries of fear paired with Thomas's laughter. Eventually Newts screams twist into laughter and shrieks of joy, the world whirling in repeating blurred twists. “Ok ok i'm awake now!” Newt insists between happy cries, Thomas slowly stops spinning and puts Newt down. Newt attempts to walk back to where he was sitting moments earlier to retrieve his now discarded cane, forgetting momentarily about his.. Predicament. The world still wobbly combined with his already crappy leg with assistance, his walking mirroring a drunk he almost tumbles over until Thomas hooks his arm with Newts. They attempt to walk together, giggling as they still stumble despite the assistance of eachothers arms.

Newt attempts to crouch down to grab his cane, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth in pain. Thomas waves him off and picks it up for him, placing it in Newt's free hand. “What would you ever do without me?” he teases, his eyes crease as he grins. “Oh bugger off!” Newt exclaims, whacking Thomas in the shins with the stick. Thomas pretends to wince in agony despite the fact the tap was nothing but light before exclaiming back “how you have wounded me Newton! How dare you strike me-! OW-” this time his cries of pain are real, Newt whacks him in the leg again except harder this time. “Just because I have an old man cane doesn't mean I bloody hit like one!” Now it's Newts turn to tease, Thomas rolls his eyes as dramatically as humanly possible before interlocking his fingers with Newts, allowing their hands to fall by their sides as they walk to their hut.

Newt woke up to the sounds of quick and loud breathing that was not his own, unlike Newt who was laying on his side facing the brunette Thomas was laying on his back with his hands clenched tightly into fists breathing rapidly. Thomas always has had nightmares, he doesn't toss and turn or scream he just wakes up in a cold sweat unable to fall back asleep. As weeks pass his nightmares have become more and more frequent and intense, Newt rolls onto his stomach towards Thomas careful not to suddenly touch him so as to not scare him out of sleep, he slowly raises his hands to Thomas’s face cupping it softly, his touch feather light.

His thumbs graze across his cheekbones in an attempt to coax him back to sleep, he reassures quietly that he's okay even though Thomas can't hear him. Sometimes, this works and Thomas falls back into a deep sleep but clearly tonight is not his night because Thomas's eyes flick open, his pupils jumping from side to side. His breathing and the rising and falling of his chest slowly return to normal before his dark eyes land on Newt's hazel ones, his lips part as he begins to speak before Newt's voice cuts him off promptly.

“Dont.”

“Why not?”

“There's nothing to be sorry for!”

“I woke you up-!”

“I. Don't. Care. You. Dumb. Shank. how many times do I have to say it!” Newt whisper scolds him, holding his face tighter to somehow emphasise his point. They lay in this position for a moment, looking into eachothers eyes seeing who will crack first. Thomas knows Newt will win this argument because he always does, despite this he still continues to stare for a moment before pressing his lips into a tight line.

“I'll get you one day.” Thomas teases with a cheeky grin, Newt hums sarcastically back before Thomas rolls his eyes. Thomas wraps his arms around Newt's waist and pulls him closer, Newt obliged happily, shuffling closer so his face was in the crook of Thomas's neck, his fingers intertwined in brunette hair. The world is yet to wake, a lack of birds chirping and people speaking signifying its nowhere near close to breakfast. The sky is yet to rise as the sky is a pale blue, almost grey. A soft light blankets them through the window next to their cot which is pushed against the right wall, Newt scratches Thomas's scalp, willing him to drift back into dreams. Soft waves crashing nearby accompany the sound of their out of time breathes, Newt smiles to himself at the thought of the water against his legs and the sand between his toes. He's never swam at the beach before, he's cleared to do so if the water is calm since he doesn't have too much trouble walking on his own for short periods of time.

“I reckon there will be a beach or lake, wouldn't that be nice? I'll teach you to swim Tommy, I'll teach ya’ to swim. That's a promise love-”

The memory bounces in his brain, he still remembers the stickiness of blood in between his fingers and the smell of gunpowder that night. His once heavy bones and sleepy eyes come back to life at the realisation that he hasn't followed through on the promise he made. He pauses and listens to Thomas's breathing, his breathing is steady but not deep. Newt kisses the underside of Thomas’s jaw before questioning quietly

“Tommy, you ‘sleep yet?” Newt can almost feel the smile radiating off the brunette once Newt kisses him.

“Not yet, why?” Newt props himself up onto his elbows, moving away slightly. Thomas frowns at the loss of body heat and looks up at Newt with a raised brow.

“I told you I was gonna teach ya to swim. C’mon, Up you get!” Newt announces, his voice picking up from a whisper to its normal volume.

“Huh??” Thomas questions, making no effort to fight when Newt grabs him by the hands to pull him to his feet. Newt begins to rummage around in their large chest drawer, pulls out two pairs of trunks and throws one to Thomas.

“You might not remember..” Newt started, turning around to face the shorter boy. When the promise was made Thomas was.. Not in a good state but there's a high chance he doesn't even remember, but Newt is a man of his word goddamnit! This boy will learn how to swim! It's not like he's going to fall back asleep anyway. Plus, they live on an island knowing how to swim would most probably be useful! Plus Newt gets to see Thomas in board shorts so that's a plus.

“Right before you passed out.. I said I was going to teach you to swim.” he finished, his voice going sombre for a moment at the memory. Thomas looks away for a moment, searching for the memory before his eyes snap back to Newt once he remembers. Newt bites his tongue at the memory, he pauses for a moment before beginning to say “we don't have to-”

“No! No. it's a nice idea babe.” Thomas interrupts, and smiles genuinely. Newt can't help but smile back, any embarrassment or guilt pouring out of him at the sight.

Twenty minutes later Newt and Thomas were hand in hand walking across the sand of the beach, their free arms draped with one towel each. Despite the fact Newt could have walked the distance between their hut and the beach just fine on his own, Thomas insisted on holding his hand “just in case” just as he does every other time he gets the chance. “Are you sure you’ll be ok?” Thomas asks for about the third time in the 5 minutes it took to make it to the sandy part of the island.

“Yes! Now hurry up before I push ya in!” Newt drops his towel to the ground and drags Thomas into the water, Thomas steps in hesitantly. Newt takes both of Thomas’s hands and walks backwards into the water, eventually they make it to a small part where it's deep enough so Newt can stand but Thomas, since he's a bit shorter, can practise swimming on his own. Newt gently explains the basics, how to keep yourself up right, how to swim around and take breaths as you do and holds up Thomas during his first few attempts and cheers when Thomas starts to get it.

Newt feels relief flood his entire body, he did it. They did it. They survived. And now? They get to live. In this moment, the water up to his chest and sand in his hair he realises how grateful he is to be able to live. Not just survive. Hes felt grateful after surviving grievers, cranks, wicked, bombs, fire, gunshots and wounds but this? This is another type of gratitude. He's not just grateful for his heart that pumps blood through his veins and the bones in his body remaining unbroken, hes grateful to wake up to sunrises and watch sunsets, hes grateful to watch gally start to smile a bit more and scowl a little less, hes grateful to watch Minho's scars fade and notice how his collar bones no longer stick out. He's grateful for being able to hum to himself as he washes his mostly clean hair, he's grateful for books and flowers and good food, this feeling is strange and new but oh so welcomed.

There are hard days, very very hard days filled with tears and shouting everything being a reminder of everything horrible but that's just it. It's all just a reminder. And those hard days are so worth it to experience all the good ones. All the good days filled with warmth and laughing and slow kisses because now he, no. Everyone has all the time in the world. Newt watches as Thomas becomes entranced with something, Newt feels the warmth of the sunrise on his back and he realises Thomas is looking at him. Newt stares back at him, he too becomes entranced with the other.

Newts eyes trail across Thomas’s body and face, the way the sun bounces off his skin and how as the weeks have passed Thomas's has gained more and more freckles, how water has pulled strands of rich chocolate hair in front of his eyes, the way Thomas’s eyes swirl with a pure devotion Newt only understands because he feels the same unwavering, permanent devotion in his chest too. Newt holds his hand up to cup Thomas’s now wet face, he leans into the touch and Newt feels like he could dissolve into the ocean at the sight. Both boys close the distance at the same time, Thomas’s lips coated in saltwater and freedom.

They have all the time in the world.

Authors note: ITS DONE. IT IS FINALLY DONE. I BET ON LOSING DOGS IS OFFICALLY DONE. I'm actually so proud of this fic and i just want to say thank you to everyone who stuck around since the very first chapter and have supported me throughout this. this story is literally my baby. this is the longest fic i have written and have actually FINISHED and its an honor to be able to share it with all of you. i could not have done it without all of your support and encouragement. :)

also THREE FICS IN LESS THEN 2 DAYS??? damn yall are spoilt ROTTEN!! (happy to spoil yall hehehehehehehehe 😚)

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#the maze runner #tmr #maze runner #newtmas #tmr newt #tmr thomas #tmr fandom #newt tmr #tmr newt x thomas #newt x thomas #thomas x newt #the death cure #newt is alive

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popurikat · 4 years

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Newtmas essay when?

Finally getting to this, thanks for waiting, I needed to go over a few bookmarks. (Warning, this post contains spoilers from the MAZE RUNNER book and FEVER CODE book, so if you haven’t read either or yet and want the jist of my analysis; just know that in general the fandom interpreting Newt as gay before it was revealed on a twitter post was not just a random headcanon and that Thomas in general is portrayed to have very strong unconditional love for Newt throughout the series; and it shows. To the point that even the director for the movie has stated that Newt and Thomas have a strong bond and portrays that in the movies. I will also preface that I am NOT adding personal opinion anywhere here, these are just backings from quotes and how they are thus meant to be taken/read as. My words are taken as a reader who is currently reading Scorch Trials has yet to fully read Death Cure or Crank Palace.) Anways, without further ado at 3AM today, I’ll try my best to explain how even though Dashner tries his best to make Thomas have other, female love interests; he creates a not so subtle gay subtext for Tommy boy here when in the context of interacting with Newt throughout the lore. Apologies beforehand for any grammar mistakes along the way.

To commence, I am going to start with FEVER CODE, as its supposed to act as the story’s preface to the actual events that play out later. Newt and Thomas upon meeting each other describe their presence as “familiar” and or as a “long lost friend” and they genuinely hit it off from the start to the point that Newt is okay with having Thomas see him cry over the fact that he and his sister are separated since he is doomed to be WCKD’s control analysis as he’s the only one lacking immunity from the flare itself. Once Newt is done being emotionally vulnerable we get our first instance of his personal nickname for Thomas: “That’s the way things are Tommy,’ he said his voice not quite steady. ‘The world outside’s gone to hell. Why should we expect any different here? [...] He said it as if they’d been friends for years” (ch. 14). An interesting note here is that Thomas doesn’t bother to correct him or stifle the moment by feeling that all this information was too much, he genuinely wanted to hear Newt out and is fine with seeing this side of him; if not slightly taken aback by how natural it is that they can converse about such aspects of their lives. In fact, Newt makes such an impact on Thomas that Thomas ends up that same night dreaming of him: “Throughout his shortened night, he dreamed of Newt and Sonya. Of Newt and Lizzy“(Ch. 14). The thing with Thomas though is that the idea of comfort and connection is very foreign to him as he’s been basically isolated all his life with only the adults like Ava to talk to and the one exception being Teresa as his only kid companion. So Thomas didn’t even think he could make others like him for being himself unless they were vital to the overall production of WCKD. Seeing this portion right before the end of chapter 14: “Alby, Minho, Newt, Teresa. Thomas had friends.” shows that Thomas really had to deep dive to see how he deals with personal connections and why he was excited about the notion of friendship. He could’ve been happy with just Teresa, but only fully cemented her bond to him as “friend” when his circle grew and these kids he got to hang with taught him he can be himself, a concept he didn’t realize was possible when all his life was dictated on what he was supposed to learn or do. It becomes especially clear just how controlled his life is with the aspect of sentiment when later on Teresa’s mental communication evokes physcial pain and fear in Thomas. I’ll get back to that later as its more of a small tid bit of Thomas’ view on his forced love interest, Teresa. And yes, I say forced because multiple sentences with Thomas have him even wish he could cease all communication with her. Moving on, let’s talk about mimicking for a second. As humans, we mimic as a behavioral response to become closer to the person we care about. It’s the reason why yawning or laughter is contagious and or why we copy the posture of the person we converse with face to face. Thomas is seen to do this the most with Newt’s quirks. I’ll give the example in chapter 15: “Newt has been promising them that he was saving something special, and he did that annoying zipped-lipped sign every time [...] the little light in his eyes showed he enjoyed every second of their torture” versus Thomas: “Thomas did Newt’s zipped-lipped gesture, and that got him a sharp poke in the ribs”. So, we know enough that Thomas’ mannerisms are developing as a sign that he wants to be closer to Newt and to continue this sense of playfulness they both enjoy from the other. This is the start of their budding bond and a clear indication that they hold each other at greater fondness than the rest through this unconscious copying. Through this copying, they also pick up on emotional cues the other lets up on. Newt is especially good at noticing small things like when Thomas is anxious or overthinking: “He was just shocked that with all their exploring, the others hadn’t already discovered it on their own. And there were supposed to be TWO mazes. How had Newt and his friends not stumbled upon either one of them? ‘Tommy?’ Thomas realized Newt was staring straight at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Sorry,’ he said embarrassed, ‘wandered off for a second there what did you say?’ Newt shook his head in admonishment. ‘Try to keep up, Tommy Are you ready to see the grat outdoors?” (ch. 15). Also in chapter 23: “Tommy?’ It was Newt, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘I can see your wheels spinnin’ up there.’ He tapped the side of his head”. This furthers Newts perceptiveness on his friend and Thomas’ ability to pick out when he is being looked after. And they bounce off each other really well in that aspect. To the point that Newt can crack a joke he knows will land right on Thomas’ sense of humor: “Newt waggled his fingers in front of Thomas’ face [...] A laugh exploded out of Thomas’ mouth that sent a spray everywhere. ‘Sorry’ he said, wiping his lips on his sleeve” (ch.15). It’s enjoyable to know that at least at a surface level, they have fun together and can cheer the other up if needed or know when to ground the other to reality. It is also through these instances that as a reader I pick up that Thomas’ nervous ticks perhaps allude to an anxiety disorder he has; of which Newt is aware of and never puts Thomas down on for exhibiting. He in fact understands it and deals with it accordingly as he himself has a similar circumstance. SO, what does all this paying attention lead to? Thomas’ devotion to protect Newt. Yeah, thats right I said devotion. Thomas’ actions are influenced by his developed instinct to protect Newt at all costs. Here is the biggest example that comes to mind: “What in the world happened to Newt? -- Less then two hours later, Thomas had spliced together a series of camera clips [...] Thomas turned off the feed. He couldn’t take it anymore...Newt, Newt, Newt, Thomas thought, feeling as if the very air around him were turning black.”(ch.52). Essentially, Thomas seeing Newt plummet to his near death by falling from the maze wall as a result of Newt’s ongoing depressive state, this is the moment that makes Thomas realize WICKD isn’t as good as they seem and that he is going into the maze to save Newt. Its admirable how much self sacrifice Thomas does for someone he cares so much about, to the point that their name is like a mantra. Thats a sensible area of passion and fighting spirit for someone who is “just a friend”. Oh and, the feeling of fondness is mutual mind you if I haven’t been clear. After experiencing the horrors of cranks for the first time, realizing Newt was not immune, and watching Newt until they entered the pits it has been months since they last interacted; this is their first reunion: “What’s up Tommy?’ Newt exclaimed, his face filled with genuine happiness at the pleasant surprise that’s been sprung on him. Thomas couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been since he’d seen Newt. ‘You look bloody fantastic for three in the morning” (ch. 23). I need to preface this that Newt DOES NOT mean that sarcastically and that out of all the people in the room (Minho, Chuck and Teresa are there in this scene), Thomas only reacts this way specifically toward seeing Newt is okay and back. The characters are also not afraid of being physically close. “Well, look who the bloody copper dragged in,’ Newt said, pulling Thomas into a big hug” (ch.31), “They shook hands, and then the two of them set off...” (ch. 31), and my favorite: “Thomas jumped at the sound, then stumbled. Newt tripped over him, and then they were both laughing, legs and arms tangled in a pile on the ground”(ch.32). I don’t think this far in the novel, Thomas has been AS (emphasis on as) comfortable with touch with anyone else other than Newt. And thats a big step forward on the aspect of trust in a relationship, being able to be comfortable with the presence of another person enough to be as intimate with them as shown here. And all this, is just fever code itself. Mind you this is not the MEAT of the novels as it came out later. But even without it, lets look at Thomas in Maze now, I’ll try to keep this segment a lot more brief. Here’s Thomas looking respectively at boys his age: “A tall kid with blond hair and a square jaw...a thick, heavy muscled Asian kid folded his arms as he studied Thomas, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps [...] Newt was taller than Alby too, but looked to be a year or so younger, His hair was blond and cut long, cascading over his T-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms”(ch. 2). Thomas’ initial reaction to being surrounded by boys is to deeply analyze their rugged good looks and heavily emphasize their best physical traits. When reading this the first time, my mind immediately thought this boy at the very least is supposed to be portrayed as bi, especially when later down the line Teresa gets a similar descriptor: “...despite her paleness, she was really pretty...silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs.” So right off the bat, we know that be it boy or girl, Thomas emphasizes how attractive someone looks in his eyes when he truly does have a sense of attraction to them. Case closed. Within the same chapter we get Thomas also immediately clinging onto Newt for a sense of grounding, it is now ingrained in him at this point that the boy is his lifeline, a person to rely on. “Thomas looked over at Newt, hoping for help.” And help he does, Newt in this chapter helps ease his worries, explain a general idea of what the glade is and even pats him on the shoulder a bit to ease tension. And Thomas doesn’t bat an eye in the same way he’s weary of literally everyone else. In fact, he’s eager to stay put with him as shown with; “If Newt went up there, then I wanna talk to him.” And if none of that seals the deal, we got early bird Newt being so touch starved he flattens himself next to Thomas to wake him up at the crack of Dawn in chapter 6: “Someone shook Thomas awake. His eyes snapped open to see a too-close face staring down at him, everything around them still shadowed by the darkness of early morning...’Shh, Greenie. Don’t wanna be waking up Chuckie, now, do we?’ It was Newt --the guy who seemed second in command; the air reeked of his morning breath. Though Thomas was surprised, any alarm melted away immediately”. This whole scene follows firstly by Thomas once again impressed by how strong Newt is and then Newt giving him a rundown of what everyone else was too afraid to show Thomas, the grievers. And you know, this scene could’ve ended well and everything as totally platonic, but then we have “Newt turned to look at him dead in the eye. The first traces of dawn had crept up on them, and Thomas could see EVERY DETAIL OF NEWT’S FACE, HIS SKIN TIGHT, HIS BROW CREASED.” Now, look me in the eye and tell me there is a hetero explanation on looking at your best bro like they are the sun reincarnated themselves. But let’s not hog all the homosexual undertones with Thomas here. Wanna know what Newt’s initial reaction to having a girl in the glade was? “It’s a girl,’ he said [...] Newt shushed them again. ‘That’s not bloody half of it,’ he said, then pointed down into the box. ‘I think she’s dead” (ch.8). It’s actually a stark contrast to the other gladers eagerly wanting to know her age, how pretty she looked, and calling dibs to date her; Newt isn’t interested in any of that, he’s more perplexed on her status and not even bothering to remark on her looks, he was the only one not to and even remarks a few other instances that girls are more Thomas’ domain. For instance, he makes a joke in fever code when Thomas remarks that the girls in the institution were going to tackle him down, Newt proceeds to point out sarcastically something along the lines of “wait, isn’t that YOUR dream though?” So Newt is pretty out spoken of his disinterest in girls, and his full admiration and attention on Thomas. Oh, and yes, Newt immediately switches over to “Tommy” the moment Thomas mentions he hates being called greenie, and once again it just becomes a thing between only the two of them. Newt is also the one to be straight forward about the whole Runners business. He warns Thomas about the dangers and doesn’t necessarily turn him down on his desire to be one, he in fact encouraged him to just wait until the right moment. “No one said you couldn’t, but give it a rest for now”(ch. 15). So once again, Newt is the voice of confidence and reason for Thomas to prosper. In turn, this time around Thomas is the one to catch when something is bothering Newt. For instance, “Newt chewed his fingernails, something he hadn’t seen the older boy do before...he was genuinely concerned -- Newt was one of the few people in the Glade he actually liked ”(ch.16). Interesting how we went from fever code “friend” to “like”. And also, when Newt explains his concern about the runners not coming back yet, Thomas pieces together how scared Newt is of the Maze without being told and goes to stand next to him as a physical presence to ground Newt as they wait near the entrance. In fact, this piece is trivial to understand why Thomas does what he does next. When everyone else had given up on the Runners still outside with 2 minutes left til closing, and Newt was escorted away from the entrance, Thomas waited. And when Thomas saw them, he yells to Newt, realizes he’s too far to do anything, and makes a decision himself. He KNEW how much Newt cared about his fellow Gladers, they were like family or “kin” as its said in the book, so what does he do? “Don’t do it Tommy! Don’t you bloody do it!’ ... Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the maze”(ch.16). Yes, Thomas does this because of his empathy for the Gladers, but the chain reaction of Newt’s concern is what sets his decision in stone. And yet again, Thomas enters the maze for Newt. And that’s pretty much the constant for the rest of Maze Runner the book, Newt just sticking up for Thomas and Thomas in turn just being happy that: “He was at least relieved that Newt was there” (ch.17). And thats basically their entire dynamic. Newt just going: “If you really did help design the maze Tommy, it’s not your fault. You‘re a kid -- you can’t help what they forced you to do” to ease the survivor’s trauma Thomas has, as well as saying “I actually believe you. You just don’t have an ounce of lying in those eyes of yours. And I can’t bloody believe I’m about to say this...but I’m going back in there to convince those shanks we should go through the griever hole, just like you said”(ch.51); and I think thats the most romantic thing to hear from him. Just right out being all for supporting Thomas no matter what happens as long as he stays alive and continues to fight, he doesn’t care about what happened before. And Thomas eats that up because it fuels him even more to seek out a means to escape for the people (Newt) that deserve a life outside of running from monsters forever. So essentially, I’ll state again, it’s always been Newt the catalyst for Thomas to run head first into the Maze and seek freedom. And with all this I can clear that these two are shown to if not be romantically involved, at least have unconditional love for the other that transcends the author’s original intention. And with that in mind, here’s the thing with Teresa as a love interest. I can list here quotes of every time she mind speaks to Thomas and how that affects him, but then this would be too long. And this is a newtmas post gosh darn it. Teresa is gleeful to humiliate, control, hurt, and force Thomas to believe they’re in love. In multiple instances we get her barging into his mind unwarranted making him understand that she has full access to his inner most thoughts. Theres nothing romantic about that, and I think its why Thomas ends up being so perceptive to the smallest of gestures that allow him to think on his own and feel like his own person. Something I’ve seen Brenda do later in scorch, and something I’ve seen Newt do since the very beginning is that they allow Thomas to come to his own conclusions in order to create his own opinions on the matters at hand. Thomas’ love language revolves around words of affirmation. He likes it when people confirm his thoughts are valid and that remind him that WICKD can’t hurt him anymore now that he has the power to be his own person. This is where Newt comes in very handy. He allows Thomas to grow in ways his female love interests have yet to show, sorry Brenda but I’ve heard you were trying to unite all immunes together to the safe haven by the end and in a sense still only using Thomas to get by; I still think she was the better call than teresa of course and I have no remorse for Teresa getting smushed by a boulder. But essentially my point here is that, how do you fail to make your initial love interests clash so badly where one has no real care about the others well being so long as everything goes according to WCKD by using a form of gaslighting and manipulation? AND THOMAS HAS STATED HIS DISCOMFORT ON THIS MULTIPLE TIMES, but the narrative always erases these instances from his mind in place of pity for Teresa’s well being (as you can tell, Teresa through this becomes my least favorite character, I can rant about her some othe time though with proper backing). The narrative in turn treats it all like a joke. I understand there are scenes where Thomas is worried about her and looks out to make sure shes ok, but even then he doesn’t know how to react with mental images of her kissing his cheek or when she screams the next minute that she doesn’t know who he is or how hes speaking into her mind. And thats because they can’t properly communicate their emotions to the other, not even in fever code could Thomas give a forward answer if he loved Teresa or not, she just assumed. Come to think of it, Thomas really doesn’t show much affection to Teresa of his own accord. So then, how DOES Thomas show his affection? Thomas provides acts of service as his love language, if he cares about you enough he will risk his life for you. Why? Because Thomas values putting the people he loves foremost knowing full well they are what help him have purpose and succeed in continuing on. In a way, Newt and Thomas’ dynamic works in this instance because they balance the other out and because they have seen each other at their worst and at their best. In a way, that's why knowing the ending of the books makes it harder to accept that Thomas would just easily take the shot...when all his life clung to Newt’s survival. But that’s a story for another time where I compare the movies (of which let me make that clear, yes I prefer) over the books. For now just know that the book may have done this by accident, maybe not, but at the end of the day theres solid proof that Thomas and Newt care about each other in a way that is separately portrayed from their connection to the other glade members, and have this consistency of soft moments running through the entirety of the series. In conclusion; newtmas. Newtmas. NEWTMAS, etc.

#Newtmas #long post #Skquill #ask #The ending gets a bit ranty with Teresa I must admit #but for the most part its just me recalling the best newtmas moments from the novels I've currently read #Please add on more newtmas proof to the thread

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