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He wasn't dead, but he didn't feel that much alive either.
The past few weeks should've been something like a miracle for him, but for some reason he feels horrible. Maybe it was the way everyone has been treating him, or just feeling so out of place, they didn't treat him badly by no means, but it wasn't normal. Thomas and Minho coming in a couple times every hour asking him how he had been when he was recovering, it wasn't them coming in constantly that set him off, it was just how they spoke to him. They acted like he was gonna explode if they spoke too loudly or said something wrong, they talked to him like he was a buggin' baby for heavens sakes! How could that not get on his nerves? He had outbursts sometimes, it was just his luck that the serum couldn't fix everything. He would scream and yell, thrash like a madman, sometimes to the point they would have to sedate him. That's the price he gets for being alive apparently. He never asked for it, for Thomas to spare his life.
Sometimes he sorta wished he hadn't
Its horrible, he knew it, that he would wish for something so unspeakable, but its what he thought, wasn't it? Newt sighed, sinking farther into the sheets of his bed. What a delightful way to start the day. He stared up at the top of his bunk, wishing he could fall back asleep.
"Newt? You awake?"Asked Thomas from the bed above him. They shared a house, well, it was sorta a house. They were still in construction, for now they slept in shack-like buildings.
"Well I'm not bloody asleep"
He heard Thomas shift above him, then saw him peek down from his bed.
"Whats wrong?"
"Nothing"He replied dismissively
Thomas cocked an eyebrow
"Why do I get the sneaking suspicion your lying?"
Newt rolled his eyes and rolled over.
"I don't know Tommy, just go back to sleep."
There was more shifting then Thomas appeared again.
"Not until you tell me whats wrong"He said in a coaxing tone
"For the millionth time there is nothing wrong!"
Thomas furrowed his brows, staring long and hard at Newt before lifting his head back up. He breathed in relief. Thomas spoke again, this time a little quieter,
"If there's anything wrong, tell me, okay?"
Newt didn't respond.
It was mid-after noon, Newt busied himself by hauling wood since it was slowly getting colder. He heaved a large log, carrying it over to the pile on the truck.
"That's the last of them"He called to the driver before waving him off.
He rubbed his hands together, watching it drive off. The sky was covered in a light gray, making the possibility of snow evident. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back down the trail, looking for something else to do. People were working on buildings, kids were running about, playing tag. He smiled to himself as a boy and girl dashed across the trail in front of him, both laughing and yelling. His smile slowly faded thinking about how he never got a childhood, and even if he did he wouldn't be able to remember it anyways. He shook of the thoughts and continued walking until he saw Gally and some others around a campfire.
"Hey Newt!"He called, waving him over.
"A campfire in the middle of the afternoon? Little odd don't you think?"He chuckled.
"Eh, the cabins a ways off and we just got done welding some plumbing for the new house"He pointed to the skeleton of what will be a house in a few months.
"And its cold so why not. So, how've ya been?"
"Good, yourself?"He didn't even think twice when he answered. Even though it was a huge lie.
Gally laughed.
"Couldn't be better. Its been shucking crazy these past few years, from the Maze to all that Wicked crap, its so nice to finally be settled down."
"Yeah."Newt agreed without passion. Gally didn't seem to notice.
"Come on, sit down, grab a drink"
Newt rubbed the back of his head, thinking of an excuse.
"I'd like too, but I should be getting back. Haven't had breakfast."
Gally nodded, seeming to be content with the answer. Newt waved goodbye and headed back towards their dwelling hoping Thomas wasn't their. He really didn't need another interrogation, and having some alone time sounded nice, just him. He turned the last corner from the row and buildings and saw the door was opened. He quickly hid behind another building, watching Thomas and Minho exit, walking right towards him. He sprinted down the side of the building and around so he wouldn't be seen, then around to watch them walk away from him down the trail. He exhaled and quickly walked inside, closing the door behind him. The lights were still on, and the ceiling fan was going. He walked over, a note was on the table by the window.
Newt,
Minho and I went down to a party on the other side of the camp, if you need us for anything. You are more than welcome to come by if you want.
Tommy
Newt set down the note, resisting the urge to ripping it into a million pieces.
"I'm not a bloody baby."He mumbled.
He walked over, sitting down on his bed. After a few minutes he decided to take a shower. He grabbed a towel and left for the bathroom.
…..
Newt stepped out, a towel draped over his shoulders and his hair wet, feeling much better after the hot shower. He stopped in the doorways as he saw a figure sitting at the table, after a second he realized it was Thomas. He looked up from a newspaper he was reading.
"Hey Newt"
"Where did you get a bloody newspaper?"
Thomas looked down at the paper then back at him.
"Minho gave it to me. Nothing really interesting, it was a sports issue."He set it down and laughed."I even forgot those things used to exist."
Newt half-smiled and set his dirty clothes down on his bed, trying to ignore Thomas's constant stare. He set his watch that he had wore earlier in his desk, which was full of random objects. He wasn't even sure where he got the watch from.
"Hey Newt?"
"Hm?"
"You haven't had any of those-"He paused, as if trying to find the words to say. "-outbursts lately. Maybe they're finally stopping?"
Newt laughed humorlessly.
"Yeah, and the president is stopping into town. Hey weren't you at some party?"He said,
"We were going to, but Minho didn't feel so hot so he went to make sure he wasn't sick. Don't change the subject."
Newt chuckled again, still busying himself in the desk when an object caught his eye.
"How long has it been? Two weeks?"
"Uh-huh" Newt replied, not even paying attention as he checked a small toy water gun to see if there was any water in it.
"The doctors said that they might stop didn't they?"
"They might."
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Yeah"
He heard the squeak of the chair as Thomas stood up.
"Newt? What do you have?"He asked cautiously.
Newt waited a moment then spun around, both hands on the toy, laughing in a mock-insanity.
Thomas's 3rd P.O.V.
Thomas yelled, stumbling backwards, barely catching himself. He stared directly into the barrel of what looked like a pistol. Newt held it, laughing insanely.
"Put it down, Newt! Newt put it down!"He yelled.
The door swung open, Minho looking around wildly. Newt shifted the aim at him. He threw his hands up and jumped out of the doorway. Thomas put his hands up too, slowly sinking down to the floor.
"Newt."He said cautiously. "Put it down."
Newt stopped laughing, and smiled, a hint of confusion in his face.
"Tommy, you really think I would-?"
He cut himself off, the look of playfulness in his eyes faded. He lowered the what was actually a water gun, a look of sadness coming across him. He looked at the gun in his hands
"You thought this was real?"
Thomas heard the door slowly creak open, Minho cautiously peering around it. He mentally kicked himself as Newt threw the toy down on the bed.
"Newt wait-"He said but Newt had already ran to the door.
He ignored him, and pushed past Minho, sprinting down the trail. Thomas couldn't help but notice the limp that was still there.
"What the hell was that about?"Minho said, walking inside taking a quick glance back at Newt. Thomas shook his head.
"I thought it was real.."He whispered.
They both looked out the door, people were sticking their heads out their doors, looking down where Newt had ran then back at them. They ignored them.
"I would go follow him if I were you."
Thomas looked at Minho curiously.
"Why?"
"We both know he hasn't been okay lately, and I think you've been as worried about him as I have. I don't want anything like the last time he-"
Minho cut himself off too, but Thomas knew where he was going. Right before he had refused to shoot him, Newt had told him how he had gotten his limp. Without another word he ran out the door, following the path Newt had taken.
…...
Newts 3rd P.O.V.
Newt ran, very little intention on stopping. Of course Thomas would've reacted that way, he wasn't stupid. He knew Newt was messed up in the head. He wasn't the same anymore, and he wouldn't ever be. He was a stupid Crank, a Crank who just got lucky. He ran past the last row of houses into a patch of woods were nobody could see him. He slowed a bit, making sure he wasn't being followed. There was a light snow falling at this point. He shivered and rubbed his bare arms. Brilliant to come out on a T-shirt. He walked deeper into the woods, hating how similar this felt to when he had been depressed in the Glade all that time ago. Life had been so face-paced lately, feeling that way didn't even seem like an option, but now that he had so much time to reflect, the feelings were slowly trickling back in. He didn't have any intention of trying to kill himself again, but life seemed pretty meaningless at that point. He wasn't special, he was a mistake from the get-go. He shouldn't of made it this far. Alby should've, Chuck Should've, Winston should've. All those other Gladers, the ones who actually had purpose. Newt sank down by a tree, his knees close to his chest. Another thought sprang into his head. If Thomas thought he was so dangerous, the who says he isn't? He's unpredictable. That's why they had been treating him so differently, because he was dangerous. They should throw me in jail or something He mused. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough bark. He had probably stayed like that for a few minutes before he heard the crunching of leaves not so far away. He lifted his head up, to his surprise there were tears running down his face. He quickly wiped them away before Thomas appeared.
"Newt?"
Newt looked away, not wanting Thomas to see him the way he was. He felt Thomas sit down next to him.
"Newt come on talk to me."
Newt remained silent. It took him a second but he realized he was shaking. He shook it off as the cold.
"And don't you dare say your okay when we both know you aren't."
With the last sentence something inside Newt broke. He buried his hands in his arms, crying. What caused his to do such a thing was beyond him, it was just a mix of everything it seemed like. Everything that just came crashing down around him. He felt Thomas throw a jacket around him along with a reassuring hug. After a minute or two, he looked up.
"I'm sorry"He whispered shakily.
"There's nothing to apologize for. I overreacted, that's all. After seeing so many guns they all look the same"He chuckled. "I know you would never do anything like that."
Newt buried his head into Thomas's chest as he pulled him closer. He would never of done something like this, break right in front of his friend, but at this point he didn't really care much.
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do. You're my best friend."
"I'm also a Crank."
He pulled away just enough to look Newt in the eyes.
"That doesn't mean a thing. You are a Glader."
He pulled Newt back in as he started to cry again. Each sob accompanied by a gasp for air. Thomas held Newt as he shook, trying to regain some control of himself. They sat for a while after that, Newt confessing about how he had been feeling.
"Why didn't you just say something? We would've understood"
"You guys have your own problems do deal with"
"That doesn't matter, we're your friends, seeing you like this, it sucks"Thomas said with a laugh. Newt smiled a bit.
"Well its not everyday you learn you weren't special like you thought"
Newt mentally slapped himself. He shouldn't of said that, and the look Thomas was wearing said so too.
"Newt you are too special, they wouldn't of put you in that maze if you weren't."
"Yeah but I'm not bloody immune like the rest of you, back there, you thought I would've shot you because of being a Crank."
"Newt you know that a misunderstanding, I know you wouldn't do that and besides, you weren't the only one who wasn't immune,"
Newt looked down at the ground beside him, feeling extremely selfish.
"I guess I was just stuck on that hope, that I was different."He said quietly.
Thomas wrapped his arms back around Newt, pulling him back into a hug. Newt didn't resist.
"You are different, your Newt. Newt the Glader, and nothing and no-one can say otherwise."
After their heart-to-heart, they had eventually decided to go back home. They walked back down the trail, hands around each others shoulders. Minho greeted them at the door.
"Work it out?"He asked.
They looked at each other, both smiling. Thomas looked back at Minho.
"Yeah, I think we did."
Minho laughed.
"You two look like you just fell in love."
"Not love, but its safe to say I think we're adopting Newt."
Newt laughed, a real laugh. He was taken aback by how long it had been since he'd really laughed. They all walked inside, and Newt felt for the first time in a while that he was somewhere he belonged, and happy at that.