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diazevan · 6 years

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Stay With Me (Newtmas Fanfiction)

Synopsis: Thomas and Newt travel to an old Wicked testing field with a member of the right arm. When the member stands on a landmine, Newt is trapped underground with an injured Thomas. (mostly film-verse)

Words: 3,220

This can be read as both plantonicNewtmas! or romanticNewtmas!

This is my first Newtmas fic and my first Maze Runner fic! So please be nice.

Warnings: Brenda and Thomas friendship (no romance)

“Why are we checking this out?” Newt asked, “both Vince and Jorge said this place hasn’t been inhabited by Wicked in months.” He stopped, turning back to his friend, “did you just want an excuse to get away from the group?”

“Maybe…” Thomas moved closer, so they were walking side-by-side, “every small thing is getting on my nerves, you know?

“I understand,” Newt grinned, “even you can get tired of the group, they are a rowdy bunch. Frypan snores, Brenda sleeps for a few days every time she has a dose of your blood, Jorge and Vince just argue all day about what’s safest for us,” he leaned in closer, “and the rest of the right arm,” he whispered, “seem to hate us.”

“Shush,” Thomas looked back at the man they had been ordered to take on their road trip with him, he had a gun strapped to his chest, “he might hear us.” They both chuckled. It had been six months since Minho and many others were kidnapped, it kept everyone awake at night, but Vince said they wouldn’t survive if they didn’t have time to be happy. Thomas felt most happy with Newt, he could smile without feeling guilty.

“Vince says he treats us as equals, but he still treats us like children,” Newt muttered, “I mean we survived the maze, the scorch and everything else alone, but now we need a bloody bodyguard.”

“If we do face Wicked up here, we need someone with a gun,” Thomas stated, “all we do is talk...and run.”

“We should ask to learn how to shoot,” Newt told him, “it might save us. We’re still another six months away from the base at least. We need to be ready.”

“We will be.” Thomas reassured him, “look.” He pointed to a sign that was stuck in the ground - they had been walking through a forest, and they had reached a clearing. The sign said, “World Catastrophe Killzone Department Property. Danger,” the sign was covered in overgrown moss and was clearly worn down.

“Why would Wicked need a training field?” Newt asked.

“Before the maze, Wicked would test kids in other ways,” the man told them, “you two stay behind me, so I can check the grounds.”

“What’s his name?” Thomas asked Newt after the man was out of hearing range.

“I can’t remember, I’ve never even spoken to him.” Newt said, “we better just listen to what he says.” They started to walk again, Thomas studied his feet and the field. They were no signs that anyone had ever been there, apart from the different levels in grass length, which ranged from long to short every few patches.

“There’s nothing here,” Thomas shrugged, “I hope when we get back Fry has cooked something.”

“You mean rice?” Newt asked.

“We might only have rice, but Fry can make it interesting.” Thomas smiled.

“Yeah,” Newt nodded, “before Fry came up in the Maze, I cooked.”

“And I know from experience that you can’t cook,” Thomas said.

“That is true.” Newt nodded, “I don't think there is anything here.”

“You are probably right .” He answered, “apart from the ground.”

“The ground?” Newt quizzed.

“This entire field is unstable, it’s basically hollow underneath,” he said bouncing up and down, “that’s why the ground is so unnaturally soft.”

“Then stop jumping!” Newt shouted, “we should go.”

“What about him?” Thomas asked.

Newt cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out, “hey!” The man turned, but was too far away from them to hear, he began to move closer to them. Both boys were not prepared for what came next, as the soldier stepped forward, an enormous explosion erupted. Newt’s flight-and-fright response kicked in because he knew that Thomas had a stare-in-fascination response, he grabbed Thomas’s shoulder and tried to pull him back, but the ground underneath them crumbled, and they fell with it.

Newt woke with a sharp pain in his temple, he was laid, face down on the ground, ran dripping onto him. He rolled over, groaning in agony. He breathed deeply, his already injured ankle stung, but he had grown used to that. He tried to piece everything together, and that’s when his mind turned to Thomas. He stood up, balancing himself on his feet, he looked around until he saw his best friend; he was laid lifeless on his front, his arms and legs sprayed to his side.

“Tommy.” Newt’s voice wobbled, he collapsed in front of him, “hey, can you hear me?” He stroked hair out of Thomas’s sweat-ridden face. He rolled his friend onto his front, he had blood coming from the tip of his head down the side of his cheek; his face was chalk-white, which contrasted with his dark raven hair, “you are not doing this to me now.” He took his jacket off and folded it in half to place underneath Thomas’s head, “not you too.” He placed one hand on Thomas’s side, and the other on his leg so he could turn him onto his side, which he learned from the Medjacks back in the glade, was the safest position for him to be in.

Newt stood up, he looked around. They had fallen at least twenty feet, and he could only make out the sky, rain was drizzling onto the pair of them. The hole they were in stretched back, the explosion how swallowed the field whole, Thomas had been right about how hollow the ground was beneath, there was hardly any debris from the mud and grass around them. They had fallen right next to the edge of the hole, but it stretched back to the other side of the field. Newt cupped his hand on his forehead to keep the rain out of his eyes and he tried to look around for a way out. “Please find us.” He whispered, hoping the group would hear.

“Newt?” A small voice came from close behind, he snapped around to see that Thomas had opened his eyes, and was staring blankly at his friend, “what-what-” he stuttered, it was clear that he was disorientated and wounded.

“Hey, hey,” Newt rushed over, kneeling in front of him, “you’re fine, it’s okay,” he placed his hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

“I feel terrible,” Thomas cried, breathing heavily.

“Well, of course, you bloody do,” Newt sighed, “I think you hit yourself pretty hard when we fell down,” he looked up, “you’re going to be okay.”

Thomas’s stomach churned violently, he turned to the side and brought up the contents of his stomach, Newt didn’t even flinch. He helped Thomas into an upright sitting position then he placed his hands under Thomas’s arms, and gently dragged him to a new space, he leaned his friend up by a wall and went back for his jacket, which was Thomas’s makeshift pillow. When he returned, Thomas was crying, silently, “sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Newt told him. Thomas turned to look at him, Newt knelt back down in front of him, “tell me what hurts?”

“I think I might have broken my leg,” Thomas gestured to his right leg, “it’s numb and heavy,” his speech slurred, and his eyelids drooped, “and I just feel tired.” Newt placed his hands on Thomas’s cheeks, propping his head forward.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Newt told him, “I might not be able to get you up again.”

“Newt…” Thomas trailed off, his voice was desperate. Newt’s heart skipped a beat, he had never heard his friend so innocent and lost. It was like Thomas’s soul had finally broken to the point that Newt could see all the parts Thomas tried so hard to hide, “I’m really scared of dying,” were the words Thomas finally choked out. Newt didn’t know what to say, he was still in shock from the tone of his friend’s voice, he pressed his forehead against his, and held onto his shoulder as Thomas cried.

Newt drew back, holding onto Thomas. Newt was now crying too, but he knew what to say, “says the man who ran into the maze as the doors closed,” Newt joked, Thomas giggled, “after being told that no one had ever survived a night.”

“I knew I could.” Thomas mocked, he coughed harshly, and Newt moved his hands away and helped Thomas lay down, his head pressed on Newt’s jacket.

“Rest,” Newt told him, sitting down by his side. He wiped tears out of his eyes, he needed to remain strong for Thomas.

“What do you think happened?” Thomas asked, “what caused the explosion?”

“Maybe a landmine,” Newt suggested, “that man died.”

“It’s my fault,” Thomas sighed.

“No, it isn’t.” Newt shook his head, “why’d you say that?”

“Well, you said yourself, there was no point in coming here.” Thomas sighed.

“We’ve investigated everything Wicked on this trip, even though Vince didn’t think there was anything here, he would have still checked it out.” Newt told him, he laid by Thomas’s side, “none of this is your fault.”

“It’s night time,” Thomas pointed out, clearly ignoring what Newt had said, “do you think they’re coming for us?”

“I know they are.” Newt nodded.

Thomas groaned again, “you know I thought a broken leg would be worse than a concussion, but my head is pounding.”

“Vince needs to check you over.” Newt said, “do me a favor.”

“Yeah?” Thomas asked.

“Don’t die.” Newt ordered.

“I won’t,” Thomas said unsurely, “I’m going to sleep,” he turned away, closing his eyes. Newt watched him cautiously, but soon enough he was consumed by tiredness, and he too, fell to sleep.

Newt woke again, it was still dark and Thomas was sleeping next to him, he watched his friend for a second because his breathing was loud and rapid, but Newt understood that he was ill. Newt listened and heard footsteps coming from above ground. He got to his feet, and looked up, hoping it was one of the team. Someone said, “I don’t think anyone is here, I think a crank just set off the landmine.” Newt stepped back, looking down at Thomas.

Another voice came, “I think Paige and Janson were hoping it’d be Thomas.”

“Oh! Not that guy again!” The first voice shouted, “should we check the sinkhole?”

“Shit,” Newt sat in the corner with Thomas, but his friend’s breathing kept being interrupted by his coughing, and Newt knew that they’d be caught. He pressed his hand over Thomas’s mouth for a second.

“There’s nothing down there, if there was, they are surely dead.” The second voice shouted, “let’s get out of here.”

Newt waited before letting Thomas go, “they want you dead,” he muttered to his friend, “really badly.” He looked at Thomas, “and they’re going to get what they’re wishing for if the others don’t find us.” He took Thomas’s wrist to check his pulse, it was slow, he rolled his friend to the side so that he could breathe easier. Newt didn’t sleep again, he just stayed up to make sure Thomas kept breathing. He didn’t even notice the sunrise. He finally tore his eyes from his friend, when he heard footsteps running above him.

“Newt! Thomas!” Frypan’s shouted, he sounded worried and on the brink of breaking down.

“Fry!” Newt leaped up, running into the middle of the sinkhole, he cupped his hands around his mouth, “Fry!” He cried.

“Newt?” Frypan appeared at the edge, kneeling down, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Newt yelped, he looked at Thomas, “but I’m not sure about Tommy!” He ran over, shaking him lightly, “Tommy?”

“Newt?” Jorge’s voice came from up ahead.

“I can’t get him to wake up!” Newt called, his voice breaking.

“Okay, stay calm kid, we’ll get you both out.” Jorge said, retracting, “where’s that rope?” Soon enough, he was lowering a rope down, with a harness attached. Newt jumped up the grab it, “you got it?”

“Don’t drop us,” Newt commented, Jorge chuckled. Newt was able to get Thomas in the harness, by lifting him up, it took longest to get his broken leg into it. “Okay, take him up.” Jorge, Frypan and the Right Arm pulled on the rope, Newt could hear Vince’s voice ordering everyone around, telling them to be careful. When they got Thomas to the top, Vince and Jorge lifted him over the surface. They left Newt to make sure they got Thomas out of the harness safely.

“What happened Newt?” Frypan asked.

“That man we came with, he set off a landmine.” Newt explained, “Where's Brenda?”

“She’s still asleep.” Frypan explained, “we haven’t woken her to tell her yet.”

“Okay Newt,” Jorge reappeared, “time to get you out of here.” They threw the rope down, and Newt hooked himself up. He didn’t realize how weak he was until he crumbled into Frypan’s side when his feet touched the surviving around. “You got him, Fry?” Jorge asked.

“I got him,” Frypan placed his arm around Newt to help him walk. Newt looked forward to see Thomas, now in a makeshift gurney, being carried by at least five men. Newt didn't pay attention to anyone. He just looked at Thomas. “He’s gonna be okay.” Newt didn’t hear what Frypan said next, he let himself relax and he fell back into unconsciousness.

Newt shot up awake, in his bed back at base. He wiped his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath in. He looked around, both Thomas’s and Frypan’s beds were empty. The door clicked open, and Frypan walked in, carrying food and water, “you’re up. I was worried. Vince said you were dehydrated, so I brought you this.” He handed his friend a bottle of water, which Newt drank as soon as he grabbed hold of it. “Okay, not so fast.”

“How’s Tommy?” Newt asked.

“He hasn’t woken up yet.” Frypan commented, “and Vince says he needs to rest for a while. I wish I had come with you guys.”

“You might have got hurt, or died,” Newt said, “we shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“Brenda says that you should sit with him for a bit,” Frypan told him, “when you’re better.”

“Why me?” He asked.

“Everyone knows you two are the closest.” Frypan shrugged, “if he wakes up, it needs to be you.”

“Fry…” Newt trailed off.

“Hey, I love the pair of you, but we both know that you two are closer. I’m okay being the third wheel. That’s what I did to you with Winston.” Frypan said.

Newt went to comfort his friend, but suddenly he felt like a train hit him a full speed, “you said if he wakes up.” Frypan closed his eyes, and cursed himself under his breath, “what?”

“There is a chance...he won’t,” Frypan cried, Newt stared at him in pure shock, “he’s breathing is still labored, and well he hit his head pretty hard.”

“I need to see him.” Newt blurted out, “now.” He shot up, leaving the room. Frypan followed him.

Newt’s eyes found Jorge, and somehow it was like he realized that Thomas’s death wouldn’t affect him the most. It would affect Jorge. If Thomas were to die, Jorge would lose him and Brenda. It was Thomas’s blood keeping her alive. Newt and Frypan still had no idea if they were immune. “Jorge, where is he?”

“He’s in there,” Jorge pointed, Newt walked away, “Newt!”

“Yeah,” he turned.

“Make sure he wakes up,” Jorge pleaded, Newt nodded and walked in.

Thomas was wrapped up in a bed. He was laid perfectly still, his head tilted to the side. He was still pale, but now the blood had been wiped off his face, and he had a towel pressed to his forehead. His leg was being propped up by two pillows, and his hand was being held by Brenda. “Hey, Brenda.”

Brenda looked up at him, “oh, hey Newt. You all right?”

“Don’t worry about me, how’s Tommy doing?” He took a seat on the opposite side of the bed.

“I don’t know,” Brenda bit her lip, “he talks in his sleep though.”

“I know, it’s annoying, right?” Newt asked, “what’s he been saying?”

“Names and places,” Brenda sighed, “yours came up a few times, but it was mostly Chuck.”

“Yeah, he still has nightmares about Chuck,” Newt said, “he normally just tells me and Frypan to ignore him. Doesn’t stop us from being worried.” He wrapped his hands around Thomas’s arm, “how are you?”

“Okay. It’s still scary when I know I could be a crank if it wasn’t for him,” Brenda gulped, “Newt. I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” Newt asked.

“If he dies,” she sobbed, “and I have to die too. Don’t let Jorge go down a path he can’t come back from.”

“He won’t die,” Newt told her, “he won’t leave us now.”

“Newt, his heart has stopped twice in the last hour,” she told him, “please.”

“I promise,” Newt reassured her.

That night, Brenda and Newt spoke about Thomas. The pair didn’t talk much unless they were with other people. This night was the first time, and it was easy because their topic of conversation was someone they both adored. Brenda fell asleep first, her head leaned on her folded arms on the bed. Newt fell asleep in the chair, after making sure both his friends were comfortable.

In the middle of the night, Jorge walked in to get Brenda and take her to bed. Newt slept through it, he deserved a good night's rest, and everyone knew he’d sleep soundly whilst next to Thomas.

He stayed with Thomas, 24/7 for eight days.He hardly spoke to anyone besides Frypan and Brenda. Thomas didn’t stir, he didn’t get any worse and they couldn’t tell if he was getting better.

On the eighth night, Newt fell asleep with his head curled onto the bed. It was woken by a hand on his shoulder, this was usually how Frypan woke him in the morning for breakfast, but when he opened his eyes and looked up, it was Thomas. His cheeks full of color, and he had a look of confusion on his face. Newt chuckled, not knowing what to say. “You okay?” Thomas asked. Newt burst out in hysterics, laughing at his friend’s oblivious mind to his own condition, and because he knew Thomas was okay.

“I’m fine,” Newt smiled, tears teasing down his cheeks, “you?”

“I’m good too,” Thomas told him, Newt laughed.

“You’re impossible Tommy.” Newt shook his head, he stretched up, taking his friend into a hug; Thomas smiled, locking his arms around Newt’s shoulders. He lay his head to the side, closing his eyes, “do you have any idea what you have been through?” Newt asked, pulling back.

“Judging by your face, a lot.” Thomas swallowed.

“You nearly died,” Newt told him.

“Oh,” Thomas shuddered, “how long was I out?”

“Nearly nine days,” Newt told him.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Thomas smiled.

“You tired? Hungry?” Newt asked.

“I slept for nine days, so I’ll say hungry.” Thomas told him, “do you think Fry will mind if we wake him up?”

“Nah, he loves an excuse to cook.” Newt said, “I’ll go and get him.” He rose from the spot to walk out.

“Newt!” Thomas called.

“Yeah,” he said, turning back.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Thomas said, smiling.

“No problem.” Newt walked out of the room, wiping tears out of his eyes.

Thomas was okay.

His best friend didn’t die.

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