Chapter Text
Newt is sure he’s still dreaming when he hears the voice.
“Newt. Newt, can you hear me? Wait why did I ask, you can’t reply.”
What. The. Klunk. There’s a static garbled sigh and a bit of mumbling before the voice continues.
“Okay, that’s better. Look, I can’t explain a lot, but I need you to trust me. Otherwise a lot of people will die and the risks I’m taking will be for nothing. A lot will change soon.”
Newt inhales quickly as he tries to quiet his thoughts and make room for the voice in his head. He has so many questions but they’re gonna have to wait. Who even is this guy? How does he know my name? How can he talk in my head? And what is this guy risking? Newt shuts his thoughts up and waits.
Nothing. That’s annoying. Regardless, he’ll keep the existence of the voice to himself for now.
Before he was interrupted, he’d been having a rather lovely dream. He doesn’t remember what it was now but it felt like paradise. A safe haven.
He waits a few more minutes before giving up and going on with his life. No use waiting for this mysterious slinthead to speak up again while wasting away in bed.
It’s been a few days since Chuck came up through the Box and he still needs help adjusting to the Glade, especially after such an unfortunately dramatic entrance.
Newt heads over to the Homestead, looking for Chuck among the sleeping teenage bodies piled on top of each other. He finds Chuck by himself, in a hammock on the outskirts of the circle of bodies. He wakes Chuck up and explains to him that today he’ll be shadowing Newt in the garden. Chuck, as expected, complains heartily about being woken up so early and working before breakfast. Newt quickly wins him over with promises of being the first to eat whatever delicious thing Frypan cooks up.
They go about tending to the carrots, Newt teaching Chuck along the way. But Newt’s mind is decidedly elsewhere. He should be focused on helping Chuck adjust to such a chaotic place but he can’t stop thinking about the voice. He’s dubbed the voice the title of ‘Mysterious Slinthead’. It's better than calling him a bloody arsehole.
Slowly, the early risers of the Glade wake up and start their days. The wake up announcement sounds, Gally’s screeching voice rouses the remaining Gladers, some of whom roll out of their hammocks in a panic when startled awake. Newt hears Minho’s cackle from behind him as he observes the bodies around him thump to the ground.
Newt goes about the rest of his day in a daze. He sends Minho and Ben off with a salute without his usual back and forth with Minho. He eats breakfast silently in a corner, observing the young boys around him goof off before they get to the day’s work. Newt plants the carrots they got from the Box a few days ago and over-prunes the vines. He continues showing Chuck around the various rows of crops, noticing his love for messing around in the dirt.
But despite his best efforts to stick to his schedule like normal, nothing holds Newt’s attention when there’s Mysterious Slinthead’s presence to solve.