Chapter Text
It’s strange, the way he feels something shift in his chest as the Greenie runs past them. It’s not warmth or pain, it’s just.... a strange feeling, like a tug. He can’t explain it.
Newt brings a hand up to rub at his sternum, watching as the new boy runs through the glade. The spectacular faceplant the Greenie manages pulls rowdy laughter from the group of the on looking boys and it’s almost enough to make him forget the whole thing.
Almost.
----------------------
Newt doesn’t have time to dwell on it, what with all his responsibilities as second-in-command, but that doesn’t mean he forgets. The weird feeling hasn’t returned and for a moment he thinks it’s all in his head. But he’s sure it happened, he just can’t figure out what it was or why it happened.
He gets his answer soon enough.
They’re waiting in a group by the maze door Minho and Alby left through this morning. After Ben, Alby wanted to go check things out and Newt wanted to argue but knew there was no changing his mind. They should’ve been back hours ago and the doors are set to close soon. His anxiety has been building since this morning and it’s reaching the peak.
He lets his gaze flicker to Thomas, the boy who seemed to set off this whole mess. When the brunette first came up in the box there was that strange tug in his chest, then it was him asking questions non-stop and being a pain to corral. He doesn’t think he’s met anyone as annoying as Thomas, but he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone with so much drive either.
Newt’s pulled from his thoughts as the boys start shouting. He looks into the Maze and see’s Minho, but not Alby. Then he notices Minho carrying something - someone. His stomach lurches as he realizes it’s Alby on Minho’s shoulders. He joins in on the shouting, trying to encourage Minho to move faster, but he knows they’re too far away. There’s a pit in his stomach and his anxiety peaks, flooding his system with adrenaline as the fact that they aren’t gonna make it sinks in.
He feels Thomas shift next to him and he looks over in time to watch the boy’s face shift. Newt somehow knows that Thomas has made a decision and there’s no warning when he suddenly darts out of the group and towards the already closing door.
Newt reaches out to grab him, but he’s too late and their hands brush as Thomas slips away. Suddenly that strange shifting feeling, that tug in his chest, is back and without thinking he throws his hand out in front of himself. For a second nothing happens, but before he can ask himself why he did it something goes flying toward the door from his outstretched palm. It lodges between the doors and expands with a crack, keeping the doors open, frost curling out and away on the wall from the ice- ice?
They all stumble back in surprise.
Newt looks down at his hands and watches as frost curls down his fingertips in a similar pattern to the frost on the door. He looks up at the door just in time to see Thomas land in a heap on the other side of the door. There’s a pause, no one makes a sound. Then the thing -- the ice -- between the doors gives a groan and shatters as the doors slam shut. Those standing closest to the door, himself included, get sprayed with tiny shards of ice.
Why the hell is there ice?
“Newt?” A hand touches his shoulder and he looks over to see Chuck. “What was that?”
He’s got no fuckin’ clue, but he can’t freak out. “I dunno, Chuck, but I reckon we don't need to worry about it right now.” He takes a deep breath to try and calm himself, but he doesn’t feel any better. He does his best leader voice and addresses the rest of the gladers. “We just lost three people and without Ably, I’m in charge. We’ll deal with this- in the morning. For now, let's just… get some sleep.”
The shake in his voice is obvious, but thankfully no one points it out.
No one dares to object and the group starts to dissipate, everyone heading for the hammocks and cots. He catches Gally looking at the maze door with a mix of contempt and anger. Newt thinks he understands perfectly well. They all just lost a leader, friends. This won’t be easy to come back from.
Newt runs a shaky hand down his face, anxiety itching under his skin. The adrenaline is starting to wear off and there’s a bone crushing exhaustion settling over him. He’s about to turn away, head to his hut where he can process his emotions and try to get some sleep, when he feels a tug on his shirt.
Chuck stands there with a determined look on his face. “They’ll make it. It’s Alby and Minho. Thomas, too. They’ll make it, Newt. They have to.”
The smaller boy says it with so much conviction, Newt almost believes him.
----------------------
When the doors open the next morning, Newt stands with Chuck.
He doesn’t know why he’s here. There’s no way they survived the maze, he knows that. No one ever has. Still, there’s a small part of him that hopes they’ll prove him wrong. They’ve been standing there for almost twenty minutes when Newt gives up. He starts to turn away with a knot in his chest when Chuck starts to shout.
“There they are! I knew it!” Chuck’s got a huge smile on his face, pointing at the maze door.
Newt whips his head around so fast it makes him dizzy.
There, heading towards the maze door, is Thomas and Minho with Alby sandwiched between them. There’s a small group surrounding them as they pass through the door. Alby is gently lowered to the ground and Jeff looks him over. Newt stands stock still as the gladers spew questions at Thomas and Minho. Chuck’s question is the only one that registers.
“You saw a griever?” He’s looking at Thomas, awe-struck.
“Yeah, yeah I saw one.” He sounds out of breath as he responds, eyes passing over the group.
Minho scoffs and shakes his head. “He didn’t just see it. He killed it.”
Shit, Newt thinks. Everyone’s looking at the brunette now, faces full of awe and confusion. No one’s survived the maze let alone kill the damn things in it. Killing a griever- it’s not possible. Though, it seems Thomas just continues to prove them wrong. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t overwhelmed with emotions.
“Newt!”
He starts, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, turning his head to look behind him in time to see Gally making his way over. He looks anything but happy.
“Newt,” He repeats once he’s closer, “what the hell is going on? With Alby gone we need to- You!” Gally’s face turns murderous when he notices Thomas, pointing a finger at him.
Gally nearly tramples Newt in his attempt to get to Thomas, most likely to throttle him. Newt places his hands on Gally’s chest, digs his heels in and shoves. It doesn’t affect the taller boy much, but it does make him pause. He hears someone gasp but he’s too focused on not letting Gally get closer to care. He watches Gally’s eyes flicker around the group behind him and keeps his face hard when Gally finally looks at him.
“We need to talk about this. I’m calling a meeting.” He says it like he’s daring Newt to argue and he’s tempted to remind him who’s in charge, but Newt just nods, not wanting a fight.
With Newt’s confirmation, Gally turns on his heel and stalks towards the meeting hall. Newt heaves a sigh and turns back to the gladers who are eyeing him wearily. Much like last night when he- damn it. He looks down and sure enough there’s a small patch of ice under his feet. He can’t even find it in himself to be freaked out. He’s just so damn tired. He can already feel a headache coming on.
With a long suffering sigh, Newt addresses the group before him. “Right. Jeff, Clint, get Alby looked at. I’ll be along after the meeting. The rest of you get your arses to the meeting hall.”
He doesn’t wait to see if they listen, he turns away and heads for the meeting hall. He rubs at his temples as he goes. Headache indeed.
----------------------
His headache only gets worse when the meeting starts. Gally’s talking about how things are changing and blaming Thomas for the shit that’s going on. He knows everything went weird after Thomas showed up, but blaming him seems a bit much and it doesn’t help anyone. Desperate to hear literally anyone but Gally, Newt tries to bring Minho into the conversation.
“Minho, you were there with him. What’d you think?”
“I think,” He starts after a moment, “in all the time we’ve been here no one’s ever killed a griever before.” All eyes turn to Thomas who’s sitting in the center of the room, looking quite uncomfortable. Newt feels a little bad for him. “When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby. Look, I don’t know if he’s brave or stupid. But whatever it is, we need more of it.”
Minho’s been addressing everyone in the room, but now he’s only talking to Newt and Gally. “I say we make him a runner.”
The room erupts into chaos. Everyone’s shouting and asking questions and he thinks he can hear Chuck chanting Thomas’ name. Newt can’t help the smile that crawls across his face and it only widens when he sees Gally’s expression. The taller boy starts shouting, trying to save the meeting when the alarm for the elevator cuts through the glade. The smile slides right off his face as he and Gally lead the group to the elevator.
It shouldn’t be coming up this soon. It’s only been a few days since Thomas came up and the box only comes up once a month. It’s just one thing after another these days. Nothing makes sense, nothing is going as it should. And at this point, Newt’s too afraid to ask. Maybe it is Thomas’ fault, maybe it isn’t. But there’s too many things going on today to really try and get to the bottom of it.
They get to the elevator and Gally pulls open the doors. Newt hops down with a grunt and is greeted with a girl lying in the middle of the crate. For a moment he thinks the girl might be dead, but then he sees the rise and fall of her chest. Definitely not dead, then. Newt reaches for the girl’s hand when Gally asks what’s in it. He pulls it from her grasp and unfurls it.
She’s the last one, ever.
Belatedly, he realizes he read it outloud. “What the hell does that mean?”
He doesn’t really get a chance to think about it because the girl suddenly shoots upright. Her eyes fly open, struggling for breath, and she looks at Thomas, his name on her lips. And just like that she falls backward, unconscious.
Everyone turns to look at Thomas.
It’s a thing now, apparently.
Gally breaks the silence, “Still think I’ve over reacting?”
Newt really wants to punch him.
----------------------
They manage to get her out of the box and into the med-hut. They pass Alby on the way in and Newt feels a little sick. They’ve got Ably tired to the bed and he’s obviously in pain. The worst part is he knows there’s nothing they can do for him. It’s just yet another thing to add to the growing list of things to deal with later.
Minho, Jeff, and Thomas are staring down at Teresa when he walks over. Jeff doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, which means it’s another thing to add to the list. It’s really starting to get out of hand. He notices Thomas staring intently at her, like he’s trying to understand her.
“Do you recognize her?” Newt asks, scoffing when Thomas says no. “Really? Because she sure seemed to recognize you.”
God, he even sounds jealous to himself. Why does he sound jealous? Add it to the list, he thinks and tries to push it from his mind.
“What about the note?” Thomas asks.
Add that to the list too. Christ this is too much. “We’ll worry about the note later.”
“I think you should worry about the note now.” Thomas presses, and Newt can feel his irritation rising. He shoots Thomas a glare that he hopes conveys just how done he is with this conversation.
“We’ve got enough to deal with at the moment.”
“He’s right, Newt.” Jeff says, “If the box isn’t coming back up, how long do you think we’ll last?”
“No one said anything about that- let’s not jump to conclusions. Let’s just wait until she wakes up and see what she knows. Someone’s gotta have some buggin’ answers ‘round here.” The last bit is practically spat as he turns away, rubbing at his temple.
“Okay.” Thomas says and then he’s heading for the door.
“Where exactly are you going?” Newt bites.
“Back into the maze.”
Newt and Minho share a look and Minho follows the brunette out of the hut. Newt allows himself a moment to put his head in his hands and groan. This past twenty-four hours has been hell and Newt just really wants to scream. Everything is out of order and nothing is making sense. He’s frustrated beyond belief, confused, angry, and scared out of his mind. Being leader was never something he wanted, but here he is stuck with the role. Newt runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath that doesn’t do much to quell the raging emotions inside.
He tries to pull himself together as he turns to Jeff, but going from the boy’s expression, he’s failing. “Keep me updated on her condition, alright? His too.” He points to Alby.
“Will do.” Jeff says.
Newt nods and heads out of the hut. He needs his journal, to just get everything out on paper. He feels off kilter and he’s of no use to anyone if he’s too overwhelmed to do anything. So he heads to his hut -- perks of being second-in-command he supposes -- and finds his journal.
Once he’s got it open, it all just spills out. Ben, Alby, the maze, the fact he nearly lost three of the most important people in his life. How Thomas has suddenly become one of the most important people in his life, but here they are. Thomas, with his bambi brown eyes and non-stop curiosity, his self-sacrificing tendencies and blatant disregard for his own safety. His half-assed plans, his stupidly endearing smiles. How he feels drawn to him in ways he’s not sure he wants to think about. Newt just met the bloke and yet it’s like he’s known him his entire life.
Maybe they knew each other before all this, before he couldn’t remember.
Thomas, the boy who seems to be the cause of his new found powers. That’s a whole other thing he isn’t sure he should touch. It doesn’t make any sense and he can’t wrap his head around it. Though, he supposes, it may as well be possible. If there’s gaps in his memories and there are terrifying mechanical spider creatures, he might as well have powers too. Granted he doesn’t know how they work or how to control them, but that’s something he might be able to fix.
Newt sits there and writes for who knows how long, but when he’s done he feels lighter. His head feels clearer and less it’s going to explode. Writing things down has always been a way to process things for him. Emotions, events, even just the little things. The journal is also home to a handful of drawings and sketches. Now that he’s got a better handle on his emotions, he feels a bit better about being leader.
----------------------
Thomas and Minho come back with something from inside the griever. Thomas wants to go back out, convinced there’s more to this than they thought. He doesn’t even have to ask to know Minho agrees with him. Gally is still adamant on punishment for Thomas and even though he doesn’t necessarily like the guy, he’s right.
So with a sigh, Newt agrees. “You’re right, Thomas broke the rules. One night in the pit with no food.”
“Oh come on, Newt! You really think that’s gonna stop him from running into the maze?” Newt gives Gally a pointed look.
“No, and we can’t just have non runners going into the maze whenever they feel like it.” He looks over at Thomas and puts his hands on his hips. “So let’s just make this official. Starting tomorrow you’re a runner.”
Minho nods and Newt knows this is what’s best. If they can at least try to corral Thomas and guide him through the maze instead of letting him run around on his own, maybe they can keep him from causing too much damage. Gally just scoffs and stomps angrily to the door, brushing Frypan off when the cook tries to talk to him.
“Thanks, Newt.” Thomas says after a beat. He looks so genuine and those damn bambi eyes are boring into him. Newt doesn’t say anything, just looks at him for a moment longer before he turns and walks away.
It takes him a second to register that he’s being followed. He makes it just past the edge of the trees before he turns around. Thomas stands there a few paces behind him. He’s staring intently at Newt and he can feel himself grow warm under his gaze. He’s looking at the blonde like he’s seeing him for the first time.
“What?” Newt breaks the silence. They’ve been standing there for a few minutes now, just watching each other. “Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”
That seems to snap the other boy back to himself. “What? Sorry I- um. I just wanted to say thank you, a-again. I know I haven’t been the best listener lately and-” Newt snorts and Thomas gives him a sheepish smile. “-and I just- thank you, for believing in me. And for putting up with me.”
He looks nervous, one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other clenched at his side. Newt feels the sudden urge to soothe him, so before his brain can catch up with his mouth he says, “I like you, Tommy. It’s not a hardship.”
Well that’s not entirely true, but he’s not going to take it back. And he means it. He likes the other boy, more than he’s willing to think about, even if he’s a pain in the ass who asks too many questions. He gives Thomas a smile and thinks he might collapse at the smile the brunette sends back. It’s crooked and bright, like Newt just made his day.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Minho’s voice cuts through the moment, causing Newt to jump as he makes his way over to them. Thomas opens his mouth but before he can say anything Newt is already speaking, grateful for the distraction.
“Nah. What’s up, Minho?”
“Just wanted to show the greenie here the ropes. Since he’ll be running with me and all.”
“Right,” They need to update Thomas on the maze and get him gear. He’ll most likely end up getting Ben’s gear. Which used to be his gear- oh god. He cannot be thinking about Thomas in his old gear right now. “I’ll leave you to it.”
----------------------
Then the girl wakes up and causes havoc, running from the hut and climbing up their watchtower, throwing rocks and whatever else she can find over the side. They’ve taken to huddling under sheets of metal as they try to calm her down. Chuck is having the time of his life. Newt has to admit, it is a little amusing. He can only imagine how silly they look like this. A girl throwing things down at a group of boys who have to duck under whatever they can to dodge the projectiles.
He wasn’t even surprised when Thomas came over and got her to stop. Not when the first word out of her mouth had been the boy’s name. Newt couldn’t help the jealousy rolling through his stomach as Thomas climbed the tower and talked her down. It was stupid. He didn’t have any right to be jealous, he didn’t have any claim over the other boy. It shouldn’t matter to him who Thomas spends his time with or why. But it does, and Newt doesn’t know why.
When Thomas comes to him and tells him about the syringes the girl- Teresa had on her, he almost doesn’t believe it. But it’s just something to add to the list -- he’s got too many lists -- of ‘things that don’t make sense, but I’m not about to question it’. He’s hesitant to try it on Alby, even less so knowing that Teresa brought them, but Thomas is right. No one’s survived the changing and whatever is in those syringes can’t do much worse.
Newt runs a hand over his face and stifles the urge to scream. He’s not happy with this plan at all. He calms slightly when Thomas turns his head to look at him over his shoulder. “Okay,” He says, and it sounds more like he’s trying to convince Newt more than himself. And it works until Alby wakes up and grabs at Thomas. Jeff and Newt dive to either side of Alby to push him back down, while Newt tries to push Thomas out of the way at the same time.
They struggle to keep Alby down and get him to release Thomas. Alby’s spouting nonsense and Thomas shouts over him for Teresa to grab the syringe. It happens so fast, Newt almost doesn’t register it. Quick as lightning, Teresa grabs the syringe and stabs it into Alby’s arm. Immediately Alby relaxes and slumps back, letting go of Thomas.
They all stumble backward to give Alby space, chests heaving. Newts wander from Teresa, who’s got her hands in her hair, to Thomas, who’s rubbing a hand over his sternum near his throat. It’s automatic, the way Newt brings a hand up to the brunette’s lower back. It’s meant to be comforting and it seems to work, Thomas leans into the touch and relaxes slightly.
Jeff breaks the silence, “Well, that worked.”
“Okay,” Newt says, voice raised an octave as he struggles to quell the adrenaline, “from now one someone stays here and watches him ‘round the clock.”
Jeff nods and Newt runs his hands through his hair. This has been just one stressful day after another. Before Thomas came up everything was normal, they had a routine. With Thomas around, Newt’s starting to hope they can find a way out of here, but hope is dangerous and the days have been exhausting.
Suddenly Gally is walking in and pulling him from his thoughts. “Sundown greenie, let’s go.” It’s then he notices there’s a hand on his lower back and he looks over at Thomas. He misses the other boy’s warmth the second Thomas pulls away to follow Gally outside. He turns to look at Newt before he’s gone. Teresa shoots him a confused look but he ignores her. He can’t find it in himself to give her the full explanation right now.
Jeff tells him they’ll watch over him then ushers Newt outside and tells him to go get some sleep and he does just that.
----------------------
He’s awoken by a thud followed by a curse from outside his hut.
Half awake, Newt gets up and stumbles to the door and pulls it open. Chuck is standing a little ways off from his hut, a bowl in one hand as he struggles to pick up a lantern from the ground. Rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm, Newt walks over to Chuck.
“Chuck? What in the world are you doing?” He asks and bites back a smile as Chuck jumps.
“N-Newt! I was just uh-” Chuck looks wildly from side to side, trying to come up with an excuse Newt knows will fall flat. “I was hungry?”
It’s more of a question than a statement and Newt sighs. He levels Chuck with a look that makes the younger boy smile nervously. “You know we can’t give out extras, Chuck.”
“But it’s not an extra!”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a for Th- uh, I mean-” Chuck says indignantly only to break off.
Newt thinks he knows what this is about now. “Is it for Thomas?”
“Yeah…”
Chuck keeps his eyes downcast, toeing at the dirt. He looks guilty and that’s not what Newt wants. He knows Chuck is only doing his best and just wants to help. Plus, getting Thomas fuel for tomorrow isn’t a bad idea. He’d also like to talk to the brunette about some things. So he makes a decision.
“Alright, tell ya what. You give me the food, I’ll take it to Tommy and we’ll pretend this never happened, good that?” Newt holds out his hand and gives Chuck a soft smile.
“Promise?” Chuck asks, looking hopeful.
“Promise.” He says and Chuck hands over the food. “Now get to bed, yeah? Thomas needs his biggest fan ready to cheer him on in the morning.”
“Yeah, okay!” Chuck exclaims, “Thanks Newt!”
And with that, he’s off to the hammocks. Newt shakes his head fondly, picks up the lantern and heads for the pit. Since Chuck is the youngest, everyone kind of adopted him as their little brother. No one ever stays mad at him for long and the gladers tend to be protective. So yeah, Newt’s not gonna rat him out for this. Besides this is a perfect opportunity to talk to Thomas without getting interrupted.
Once he’s at the pit, he places the lantern down onto the grass and knocks on the bars on the gate as he lowers himself to the ground. Thomas looks up at him, startled.
“Newt?” He asks, squinting against the light.
“Yeah, it’s me. Here,” He says as he lowers the bowl down through the bars, “you can thank Chuck for the food. He figured you’d need the fuel for tomorrow and I don’t disagree.”
“Thanks.” Thomas says and their fingers brush as he takes the bowl from Newt.
They spend the next few minutes in silence while Thomas eats. Newt takes that time to think over what he’s going to say. Obviously he wants to bring up the strange ice powers he suddenly has and if Thomas has any kind of plan. Knowing him though, probably not. He chances a look at Thomas and almost jumps when he sees Thomas looking right back.
“You alright, Newt? You look really tired.”
“I am. I mean, the last few days have just been one thing after the other and I…” Newt sighs, something he’s been doing too much of lately. “To answer your question? No, I’m not okay, Thomas.”
“Tommy.” The other boy says with a frown.
“What?”
“You called me Tommy back in the woods and now it feels wrong when you call me Thomas. So, just… call me Tommy.”
Newt feels himself flush. He hadn’t even realized he’d used the nickname. He doesn’t even know where it came from, it just felt natural. As if it’s something he’s always called the other boy. And, well, clearly he’s not good at denying Thomas anything.
So he says, “Good that, Tommy.” And the smile he gets in return is worth it.
“Good that,” Thomas says as he sets down the bowl and looks up at Newt, giving him his full attention, “Now talk to me. Don’t look at me like that- I- okay, look. I know we only met a few days ago, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. It’s like we’ve been living together for years. I can’t explain it, but I know you, Newt. And I think you know me, too. So talk to me?”
Thomas is looking up at Newt, giving him fucking puppy eyes and really, how is Newt gonna say no to him. And the brunette is right. It feels like they’ve known each other for years, he just didn’t realize it went both ways. If Thomas is willing to embrace it, then Newt is too.
“Yeah, okay, Tommy.”
And it’s as if he’s opened the floodgates. Once he starts talking, he doesn’t stop. He tells him about Ben and Alby, about how fucking scared he is, but also about how Thomas has given him hope again. His optimism about getting out of the maze is contagious and Newt finds himself hopeful. Things he would never say out loud, things that should be written in his journal and never be allowed to see the light of day.
Especially the ice powers thing.
“Do you know what caused it?” Thomas asks, standing now in order to be closer to Newt, like he’s trying to bring comfort by just being close.
Newt would be lying if he said it wasn’t working.
“No. I was hoping you would have some idea. It started after you showed up.”
“Oh.”
Newt nods, frustrated. Neither of them have any answers and he’s no closer to understanding what the fuck is going on with him. The next step would be learning to control it, he supposes, if he had any clue what triggers the damn thing. He feels a light tap to the temple and he looks down at Thomas. He’s got one hand on the bars and the other curled into a fist by Newt’s head. One knuckle is curled farther away from his palm, seemingly what he used to get Newt’s attention.
“Hey, where’d you go? You got this far away look on your face. Did you hear what I said?”
Newt shakes his head to clear it. “Sorry, Tommy. Say it again?”
“I asked if you could show me.” Thomas says with a small smile, “I’ve seen you do it before, but I never got a chance to really look at it.”
“Show you what?”
“Your powers.”
Oh.
“I don’t really know how it works. It’s not intentional, when it happens.”
Thomas hums in response. He’s got his thinking face on and Newt knows he’s in for it now. Tommy’s plans rarely bode well.
“Okay, well what normally causes it?”
“Uh- I’m not really sure. Intense emotions maybe?”
He doesn’t even get a warning before Thomas is launching into question after question. It’s rapid fire and overwhelming. It takes him a second to realize what Thomas is doing, trying to rile him up. And it’s working. Newt can feel the irritation bubbling up and he prides himself in being a patient person, but his nerves have been shot for three days now and he’s ready to blow.
“Damn it, Thomas!” He hisses and leans forward, putting his hands on the bars, acutely aware that they can’t be too loud. But this time he feels it, that tug in his chest that seems to be pulling him toward Thomas, when his powers surge forward and out from his palms. The bars under his hands freeze with a crack and when he looks down there’s smoke like vapor coming off of it. “Bloody hell…”
“Whoa…” Thomas breathes as he looks up at the ice coming off the bars in spikes.
Newt stares, transfixed as he pulls his hands away and the ice remains. There’s little tendrils of frost curling down his fingers, just like the first time. He looks over at Thomas and once again, the other boy is looking back.
“Newt, your eyes… they’re glowing.”
What the hell does that mean? Newt brings a hand up to his eye and blinks hard a couple of times. He looks back down at Thomas who seems almost disappointed.
“They’re brown again.”
“Right.” Newt says, still reeling. The ice manipulation-powers-thing he’d been aware of, but now his eyes are glowing? What the actual fuck. “Right. Okay. I think I need to go to bed.” He stands, wincing as leg aches in protest. “You do, too. Can’t have you fallin’ behind out there.”
Thomas hums in agreement, eyes still trained on Newt’s face. “You’ll be there to see us off, yeah?”
“‘Course I will, Tommy. Now get some rest.”
“Night, Newt.”
“G’night, Tommy.”