Chapter Text
Thomas woke to a bright light blinding him. He covered his face and blinked a few times before sitting up. He was in a bed inside of a tent. The safe haven- they must’ve made it. Cautiously, he lifted his shirt and looked down at where he had been shot. Thick bandages covered his waist and only a dull ache remained which was welcomed, being much more muted than the violent throbbing that had shattered his nerves when the bullet had hit him. Thomas dropped his top back down and stared at the floor.
He had really done it. He had escaped Wicked with his life. However, he couldn’t bring himself to be pleased. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he recalled the fates of his friends who had sacrificed themselves for him. He didn’t deserve them, they should’ve been happy and free right now and himself six feet under. Thomas pushed away the dark thoughts and pulled his body upwards, standing and walking outside.
The sun pierced his eyes and warmed his skin pleasantly. He took a few more steps before looking out at the haven. People were busy working and makeshift buildings had already been built. Safety. A home. Those things were foreign to Thomas. He made his way down a dirt path and felt eyes watching him. He hoped that his friends hadn’t talked about him too much as they tended to enjoy storytelling.
Thomas passed Vince who didn’t recognise him at first but followed him with his eyes. Passing more workers, Thomas was about to go and look for a familiar face but someone spotted him first.
“Thomas?”
Minho stood up and walked towards him. They stopped a few metres away before diving into a hug. In that moment, Thomas finally allowed himself to cry. Minho patted him on the back and the boys shared a silent but mutual understanding with one another.
They didn’t have to talk. In that one embrace, they shared their grief for Newt, a beloved friend who they had to let go. Minho pulled away and immediately, Thomas’s other friends all crowded him. Brenda, Frypan and even Gally. They all hugged tightly and shared an unspoken comfort. Jorge clapped Thomas on the shoulder and urged him to rest up, so Thomas attempted to do just that.
Finding a quiet spot at the trunk of a tree, he curled into a ball and slept his tears off. He didn’t know how long he had slept there, but the sun was setting when he awoke. A cold chill rippled through the air and Thomas found himself wishing he had a coat. Hastily, he stood up and looked around. A sense of nostalgia hit him and Thomas briefly thought back to the Glade. He had fallen asleep by a tree in there too but the difference was that in the Glade, someone was always there for him with a blanket. Newt.
Thomas grimaced and hugged his shoulders. He wasn’t ready to think about the boy yet. He quickly followed the sound of voices and light, getting away from the woods. As he walked, Thomas sensed someone watching him from where he had been standing previously and turned his head. A flicker of movement caught his eye but there was nothing. He shook his head and blamed the thought on fatigue.
The voices that Thomas were following turned out to be from a large bonfire. The entirety of the haven were sitting around with drinks and food, talking with each other. Thomas took a seat far at the back and stared at the floor. He wanted to be happy for the sake of his friends but he couldn’t bring himself to be. After a while, Frypan approached him and held out a jacket, “You look cold.”
“Thanks Fry.” Thomas smiled slightly and accepted the coat, quickly slipping it on. Frypan nodded and left Thomas in peace again.
The next person to go up to him was Minho. He sat beside Thomas and fidgeted with something in his hands for a few moments until he opened his mouth,“You dropped this when you were unconscious. I kept it safe for you.” Minho held out a small object and Thomas glanced at him before taking it.
“Thanks, Minho.”
Minho patted him on the back and walked off, leaving Thomas with the object. Thomas rolled it around in his hands and it felt like someone had shot him again. Newt’s necklace glinted delicately in he firelight. Thomas didn’t know what to do with it and just wrapped the string around his fingers, but something was off.
Carefully, Thomas twisted it and a cap fell off, revealing something hidden inside. He debated in his head whether he should touch it but curiosity won out and he pulled out the cylindrical thing from inside. He opened it up gently and his heart dropped. It was a letter.
Thomas covered his mouth, stifling a sob, before he lowered his hand and evened out the small pieces of paper.
“Dear Thomas,” Thomas swore he could hear Newt talking to him, but there was no one around him.
“This is the first letter I can remember writing…”
Tears brimmed in Thomas’s eyes as he scanned the paper. Every sentence tore into his soul and grief slammed into his heart. At the same time, Vince uncovered a large stone and declared that the people of the haven could carve in the names of their lost ones. Thomas looked up and saw Minho engraving Newt’s name. Everything suddenly felt more real. Newt was actually gone. Thomas finished reading and the whole world faded out from around him.
“Tommy?” A familiar voice echoed from beside him. Thomas froze and glanced to his left. An amused looking boy was sat next to him. Blonde hair, dark eyes, charming smile.
“…Newt?” Thomas’s voice cracked and he felt frightened. Was he hallucinating?
“Wanted to say hello, and sorry. Always hated seeing you look so sad on your own.”
“Newt.. h-how?” Thomas interrupted and stared at the realistic figure sat with him.
Newt shrugged, “This planet is one of wonder Tommy. Now go on,” he nodded towards the stone, “you can do it.”
The strangeness of the situation flooded away as Newt spoke, his voice grounded Thomas and gave him a sense of reassurance.
“But Minho’s already carved.. your name.”
“No, not mine shuck face, Teresa’s.”
Thomas didn’t respond and just stared at Newt. Newt’s eyes softened and his large grin faltered. “Closure is what you need.”
“Tomorrow, I will tomorrow.”
“Promise me?”
“Yeah.”
“Good that.”
Newt stood up and Thomas panicked, “Where are you going?”
Newt paused and smiled sadly, “I can’t stay forever.”
“Thomas?” Minho bounded over, “Who are you talking to?”
Thomas jumped and opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t form words. He looked back to where he swore Newt had been seconds before but there was nothing.
“Myself.”
“Huh.” Minho looked at him warily, then gently grabbed his arm, “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
Thomas allowed Minho to drag him to a hammock in the sleeping area and climbed in. “Night Thomas.”
“Night.”
Minho lingered in place for a few seconds before turning away with a troubled look on his face. Thomas noticed Minho’s unusual attitude but didn’t say a word. His mind was jeopardised as it was. Was he going crazy? Had he lost his mind? He had seen Newt and even talked to him!
Newt was dead, yet Thomas had held a conversation with him. Thomas blinked away some tears and stared up at the pergola roof. Newt’s necklace felt heavy in his hands and he squeezed it sadly. It must’ve just been exhaustion, He told himself.
Pushing the confusing and sad thoughts out of his head, Thomas fell asleep.