Chapter Text
Thomas watched as Newt suddenly rose from the ground to support himself. Thomas could feel his heartbeat slowing as it felt like his heart fell right into his stomach. He stepped slightly forward before the older boy slowly turned his head, meeting Thomas’ eyes. That feeling fell from his chest. The stomach acid dissolved his heart quickly as he came to the realization…
That wasn’t Newt, just a mindless zombie virus taking over his best friend's body.
Thomas couldn’t help but push that thought away instantly as he let out “Newt?”
It was a brief second that Thomas looked for the real Newt.
His Newt.
Before the redhead lunged his whole weight forward, Thomas acted quickly enough grabbing his shoulders and throwing him into the ground.
“Newt!” He shouted and panicked. He had no idea what to do “Newt! It’s me,” He put his hands forward blocking the older one, scared of another attack.
“IT’S ME!” Thomas desperately shouted as he watched Newt get back up on his feet. Thomas was panicked all he could think about was that damn serum. The only thing that could help Newt. The only person he could care to think about at this very moment.
Newt was again right back on his feet charging the shorter boy without a second thought and absolutely no hesitation. Newt had lost his mind.
That's the one thing I don’t wanna lose…Tommy is my mind.
Flashes of healthy Newt pried their way into his head, things that they had discussed their late nights being awake unable to fall asleep so they would comfort each other and talk about things they didn’t dare to talk about not half dazed.
Newt manages to get a hold of Thomas’ waist and tackles him to the ground. The pair are both on the ground now. Thomas’ ears filled with the sound of the other boy's growls he could feel the drool coming from the other boy's mouth hit the side of his face as he desperately pushed Newt off of him.
I just have to hold out for a few more minutes
Thomas shoves the boy off of him as he scrambles back onto his feet.
“Tommy!” Newt huffed, spitting more of that black tar substance on the concrete.
Don’t say it
“Kill me!” Newt pleaded.
Thomas felt his heart break at that thought he couldn’t do it no matter how much the other boy begged and pleaded he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t do it
“No, no,” Thomas spat back quickly, crouching to come to the redhead's side.
Newt growled once more before jumping back to his feet, grabbing Thomas, and taking him down once more.
Come on, where the hell is Minho and Brenda with that serum…
Thomas held his ground and Newt still hadn’t managed to properly injure him…physically anyways.
This whole mission he’s been trying to get Newt to stay safe but Newt stuck by his side like a lost puppy. Newt had followed him everywhere without question so why couldn’t this one time he listened to Thomas and stayed behind with Gally. If he would have stayed with Gally then…
Newt snarled dangerously close to Thomas’ face. The raven haired boy desperately pushed Newt back as he sat on his hips snarling at the boy beneath him. Thomas grabbed the redhead wrist in an attempt to stop Newt’s brainless attempts to infect him.
Newt nipped at him eagerly.
Thomas was so scared he didn’t believe he could hold the other boy for much longer. Newt was much stronger than him despite the differences in their builds. Thomas could feel his eyes stinging with tears seeing Newt like this felt like all his fault.
“Newt!” Thomas desperately shouted trying to get through to him despite the virus being obviously in control now. “PLEASE!” He begged as he grabbed Newt’s wrist again, getting them away from his neck.
Newt blinked and stopped fighting, his eyes softened, with heavy quick breaths as he looked down on Thomas who was desperately trying to keep Newt from hurting him.
“I’m sorry Tom-I’m sorry Tommy,” Newt huffed out. Newt couldn’t understand why Thomas couldn’t have just killed him already. He wasn’t worth it. Why was he fighting so hard?
He gently placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder as he examined him again. Newt was overfilled with guilt.
“It’s okay,” Thomas’ voice was soft and almost relieved, through his rough breathing. His eyes were looking at Newt in almost a completely new way.
“I’m so sorry,” He whispered through breaths, being so gentle with his voice.
Newt huffed loudly, his eyes darkening just as quickly as they had softened moments before. Newt quickly unclipped Thomas’ gun, putting it straight against his temple and looking down at Thomas.
“NO!” Sheer panic and pure adrenaline moved through Thomas’ veins. He had never moved so quickly in his life; as he backhanded the gun out of Newt's hand. Thomas had never felt that kind of fear before his whole body jerked when he slapped the gun away.
Newt roared in anger. The crank came back out as they started their wrestling fit once more.
Thomas punched Newt square in the face.
If I knock him out…
It was almost no use Newt got right back up slowly but the crank in him wasn’t willing to give up. He carefully pulled his small blade from the back of his belt, quickly swinging it backward at Thomas.
Thomas ducked just in the nick of time.
But just like that Newt threw his legs back over the younger boy. Rising the knife above his head forcing it down quickly. Thomas caught the older boy's wrist before he managed to stab Thomas’ already aching heart. He struggled to keep that knife away. It was almost like Newt was getting stronger, as the look on his face became less and less Newt and more and more crank. Newt roared and growled as he had almost managed to get the knife jammed into the boy beneath him.
“NOOO!” Thomas shouted desperately, kicking the older boy off of him. Both boys crawled towards each other.
Newt kicked him right back, keeping Thomas on the ground with him. Despite that, both boys managed to get back up on their feet as Newt kept swinging his blade at his best friend. He kept doing it over and over again.
But when Newt finally reached Thomas, the raven-haired boy felt nothing.
What?
Oh.
Thomas’ eyes widened; he knew exactly what had just happened. He backed away to see the blade had pierced through Newt’s chest…Not his own. The redhead had killed himself. He watched as Newt slipped his hand off the blade looking at Thomas trying to meet the younger boy's eyes.
Thomas looked up. His eyes met the other boys, while there was silence despite the people rioting and fighting. Despite the bombing, the crashing buildings, and the shooting. Their world went quiet as they stared at each other.
Thomas felt as if he had just broken into a million pieces. His heart was no longer there…
He was also scared? He couldn’t ever describe this feeling to anyone. It was like his whole world just came crashing in on him.
Newt fell backward as his eyes started fluttering shut.
“No, no, no!” Thomas desperately tried to catch Newt.
“Newt please,” Thomas felt his eyes swell up with tears as he held the other boy's jacket. “No, no, no,” Thomas placed one hand on the side of Newt’s face.
“I…” Newt started leaning into the touch. Dying seemed more peaceful this time. The last time he tried to kill himself he was just a scared greenie that just felt something was missing.
But nothing is missing now.
Thomas is right by his side…
It almost felt selfish to die like this.
“Tommy,” Newt looked into Thomas’ eyes, which were flowing a rapid stream of tears.
Why was he crying?
No.
That was a stupid question.
“I…” He tried again. But he was getting so cold. He couldn’t feel anything in his body anymore.
This was it, this was his end…
Newt slipped into darkness.
Thomas woke up in a sweat gasping for air.
He looked around panicked instinctively grabbing his waist where he was shot. It was still very tender and it shot pain through his whole body. He groaned as he looked around, seeing a glass of water sitting on a newly built wood table next to where he was sleeping. He grabbed it quickly, almost spilling it all over himself as he chugged it down.
“Ugh,” He moaned as he held his side, setting his feet on the ground and walking out the opening in the hut. He squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the blinding sunlight pouring into his eyes.
As he walked he heard the grass crunch under his feet. It was dry and had a layer of sand over it but that's not what he was focused on. He observed the ocean that was no more than a few hundred feet in front of him. The smell of salt in the air, watching as the waves crashed over big boulders in the water.
He heard commotion off to his right that caught his attention bringing him out of his trance.
It was everyone…
Well not everyone.
He knew Newt wasn’t their socializing and helping build their safe haven they had always talked about and only dreamed of achieving.
He wandered right into the village they had built.
How long was I out for? was the only thought now consuming his mind, with the searing image of Newt pushing its way forward.
He looked at everyone's smiling faces as he walked through. They had already had crops growing. He could tell people were staring at him but he could care less right now.
He saw Minho sitting next to Jorge on a big rock. Minho’s face lit up as he saw Thomas. He quickly came up to Thomas slowing his pace a bit as Brenda and Fry followed close behind him.
Minho sighed slightly as he looked Thomas up and down and they both had the same thought in their heads.
Newt.
Just Newt.
They had been a trio ever since Thomas came up into The Glade.
Thomas licked his lips as he stepped forward bringing Minho into a hug. He was warm and comforting to the touch. They held each other tightly, patting each other's backs. Both of them felt the sting of tears building up in their eyes.
…
Later that night Thomas was fiddling with the one thing he had left of Newt. The necklace he was so desperate to give him.
“He knew he was going to die,” Thomas mumbled to himself, feeling his throat frog up and the sting of tears return to his eyes.
He swallowed as he popped open the small metal capsule at the end of the leather string, pulling out two sheets of paper. As he unfolded them he read…
Dear Thomas,
He looked up, biting his lips as well as shaking his head slightly feeling the stream of hot tears roll down his face.
How can one person be the source of so much pain?
It was a genuine question Thomas had. He was afraid that no one would have the answer to it.
When Thomas finished the letter he couldn’t help his sobs and the streaming tears rolling down his cheeks he just stared into the darkness listening to the fire crack and pop.
“Hey I know you're hurting… but you're not alone okay?” He heard Minho say as he placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder.
“I know,” Thomas shook his head with a sigh, looking back down at the letter.
“I love him too,” Minho said sitting next to the other boy.
Thomas just shook his head. The truth was he couldn’t speak right now. His throat was too backed up.
“But your love for him is different isn’t it?” Minho asked with assurance in his voice like he already knew the answer.
Thomas looked up at him wide-eyed and confused, but Minho didn’t look at him, just at the stars. Minho smiled slightly, he didn’t realize Thomas hadn’t figured out his own feelings toward Newt yet.
“Still just as dumb, Greenie,” He ruffled Thomas’ hair and smiled at him.
…
Every night Thomas tried to sleep his thoughts betrayed him. It’s been going on for a week. He wanted to talk to Newt so badly. He needed to say something to him. He needed his peace.
I was the cure.
I could have saved him!
You were the last person that deserved to die.
I need to hear your voice.
I want you to hold me in your arms one last time.
Give me advice one last time.
“Should we tell him?” Thomas heard Minho's voice. He was sleeping only a couple of people away from Thomas.
“I don’t think so. We still don’t know if he’s even going to make it,” He heard Brenda protest.
“But Newt hearing his voice might help,” Jorge told them.
“Yeah, and he’s sulking around because of him,” Fry added. “We can’t hide it from him.”
“We can’t throw him into shock, his wound could open back up,” Brenda protested once more.
He couldn’t hear much after that they lowered their tone but he could have sworn he heard Newt’s name brought up again. Thomas leaned closer to them in his hammock before he made the mistake of forgetting about weight distribution. He fell out of his hammock with a loud thud that woke many of the others up.
“Thomas!” Minho came running to his side.
“Are you okay?” Brenda followed right behind the runner.
“Yep never better,” He joked without a smile as he held his wound sitting up.
“We need to show you something,” Jorge told the boy as he held his hand out in front of him.
Thomas took his hand without question. His gut was telling him that he needed to go with them right now.
They approached another small hut that was built farther away from the rest of their village. It was built very similar to the one Thomas had woken up in.
“Okay we need you to not freak out,” Brenda told him as she held the sheet door open for the boy.
“You guys are freaking me out,” Thomas told them, hoping they’d ease up a little.
“Just don’t freak out,” Minho told Thomas as he stepped into the hut.
Thomas took a deep breath he could feel his heart pounding and he didn't even know why. He stepped into the dimly lit hut to see a certain red-haired boy laying in a bed.
“Newt…” Thomas mumbled the rest, getting caught in his throat. He felt the familiar stinging come back. He can’t even begin to count how many times he felt that this week.
“He’s technically alive,” Brenda said, glancing over at Minho.
“But he still hasn’t shown any signs of waking up,” Minho told him as he watched Thomas walk over to the unconscious boy.
They all exchanged glances as Thomas dropped to his knees by the bed sitting on his feet. Brenda tried to walk forward but Fry stopped her, simply shaking his head.
Jorge tilted his head towards the door, hoping everyone would get the hint. Thankfully they did. They all left, leaving the two boys alone.
“Newt…” Thomas choked out through tears.
Damn it, stop crying!
Thomas took his hand into Newt's, locking their fingers together with a sniffle. He laid his head next to the unconscious boys staring at their locked fingers, through cloudy vision. He shifted his weight to sit on the sand “floor” more comfortably.
“Newt,” Thomas tried again. “You can’t give up, I won’t let you.”
“If you die on me I don’t think I could live with myself,” He confessed, squeezing the red-heads hand tighter but not too tightly.
“I couldn’t even make it through 5 minutes today without crying,” He chuckled lightly. “And having obsessive thoughts,” He confessed, licking his lips. “And it's been weeks since you’ve been stabbed.”
It was true Thomas had the heaviest eye bags out of anyone in the haven. He had been slouching and caught several times just staring at the ocean for hours on end. He has woken people up screaming for Newt on several occasions. His solution was to just stay up to avoid the nightmares but that didn’t stop his obsessive thoughts.
“Just please wake up soon,” Thomas shifted his head to look at the older boy. Watching as his heavily bandaged chest moved up and down ever so lightly.
Thomas laid there feeling a sudden drowsiness overcome him. He had a weight on his shoulders ever since he woke up and seeing Newt again almost completely relieved his stress and strain. As he dozed off he could have sworn he felt Newt squeeze his hand slightly.
“Newt!” Thomas’ shot his head up looking at the other boy. He studied carefully for any more movements.
Nothing…
Another week passed and Thomas visited Newt everyday for hours on end filling him in on everything that has been happening. Thomas was convinced after that one hand squeeze Newt could hear every last word that came out of his mouth.
“Your wound is almost completely healed,” Thomas told him, locking their hands together once more. “So I hope that means you’ll wake up soon.” Thomas gently squeezed his hand. He placed his forehead on their resting hands on the bed. “Please,” Thomas pleaded.
“T-Tommy,” Newt mumbled out with a groan.
Thomas looked up, a bit fearful that he was hearing things.
But no, there was Newt looking back down at him.
“Newt?” Thomas couldn’t help but smile as he felt warm tears streaming down his face.
“Where the shuck am I?” He questioned looking around the hut letting in bright sunlight.
“Uh um,” Thomas couldn’t seem to form a proper sentence. He had a fluttery feeling in his chest just being able to see the other boy actually moving and awake.
“Are you gonna bloody answer me?” Newt looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow.
“Do you not remember what happened?” Thomas asked.
“What do you mean?” Newt asked, trying to sit up feeling a sharp pain in his chest. “Ugh.” He groped his shirt where the pain was.
“Woah, woah,” Thomas said, quickly getting up, letting go of Newt’s hand and sitting on the bed next to him. Newt hadn’t even noticed until Thomas let go it made him blush a little. “Try not to move,” Thomas sounded worried as he helped Newt lay back. His hands were so gentle and warm Newt could almost melt into them.
“You really don’t remember getting stabbed,” Tomas sounded like he had gotten choked up.
Newt blankly stared at him, studying his face and thinking back to the last thing he could remember.
“I don’t-” Newt started feeling a sharp pain in his right forearm. He moaned in pain grabbing his arm, getting flashes of him on top of Thomas…with a knife.
“Are you okay?” Thomas asked to study the boy with such soft gentle eyes.
“Did I…hurt you, Tommy?” Newt asked with worry in his eyes.
“No, no,” Thomas reassured him.
Newt couldn’t help but feel like this was a lie.
“I did.” Newt said sternly.
“No-”
“Ah! don’t lie,” Newt objected. “I remember now,” He told the raven haired boy as he looked down at his right forearm. Where the flare had once infected him he dragged his fingers across it.
Thomas gently placed his hand onto the red-heads forearm.
“It’s gone, you’re cured,” Thomas smiled despite the tears still falling off his face.
“Why are you crying so much?” Newt said, reaching forward placing his hand on Thomas’ cheek wiping away the tears. Watching as Thomas keeps eye contact leaning into his hand. Thomas’ eyes were so soft and tender something about them made Newt’s heart sore.
“I really missed you y’know,” Thomas says, still not breaking eye contact. But to be fair neither was Newt. Thomas brought his free hand (the one not holding Newts other wrist) up to Newts hand, gently lifting it so it was hover just centimeters away from where it once was placed.
And Thomas kissed his palm lightly. Newt believed he was testing the waters. Seeing if this was something Newt was comfortable with.
“Oh you pussy,” Newt said in that lovely accent of his, that Thomas adored. Newt put his hand on the back of Thomas’ head pushing the younger boys head forward clashing their lips together.
Newt pulled back slightly but Thomas’ lips quickly followed as he leaned even closer in pressing their lips back together. Newt bit gently on Thomas’ bottom lip pulling it back with a grin. Thomas just let out a soft whimper.
“You like that, love?” Newt asked with a proud smile pressing their lips back together.
“Mhmm,” Thomas hummed, shivering slightly from how much he enjoyed being called love.
Newt licked at the youngers bottom lip allowing entrance for his tongue which Thomas happily accepted. Newt had to admit Thomas could use some work in the kissing department but he didn't particularly care right now--as long as it was Thomas.
Suddenly, their was a loud whistle at the entrance of the door. Thomas scrambled trying to get off Newt as quickly as possible he ended up falling off the bed and onto his ass. As they both turned their heads staring at Minho.
“Good morning Newt,” He glanced over at Thomas with a large grin. “See you’re enjoying yourself.”
“G’morning Minho,” Newt smiled happy to see his best friend outside of terrible circumstances.