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Chapter Text

Thomas was running faster than he ever had before. His worn-down sneakers scraped the pavement as he hooked around a corner. His chest hurt, and he had a horrific cramp in his side, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he was as good as dead.

Thomas had been out of he orphanage for only two weeks, and he was already being targeted. He barely managed to escape; he had to give away all his candy bars and cigarettes to get the other boys to cover his whereabouts the night he snuck out. The other boys didn't know that he was never coming back, but at least they got some Twix bars out of it.

He knew there were three of them on his trail; there may have been more, but right now, he was counting three. He couldn't tell if his heavy breathing was louder than the pounding adrenaline in his ears. His ankles ached, and his calf muscles burned. He was on the verge of giving up; he couldn't keep running anymore.

Thomas checked behind him, seeing no one on the sidewalk, then made a sharp turn into an alleyway. He dropped beside a dumpster, his chest heaving up and down. He scooted behind it, so he was completely hidden. He needed to catch his breath. He leaned his head against the brick wall, trying to calm his racing heart. He didn't plan his escape very well. His jeans were already torn, and his black shirt offered no protection from the cold nights. His hair was probably dirty and horrific to look at; he hadn't showered since the orphanage. The bags under his eyes put the emo kids to shame. That was the worst part for Thomas; he couldn't sleep. It wasn't even because he was on the streets; it was because of whatever was wrong with his head.

His mouth felt dry, and his throat like sandpaper. He desperately needed some water. He was about to get up until he heard a noise that made his blood run cold.

It was them.

"We know you're in here, stupid boy. Did you think you could hide from us?"

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, like that would make him less visible. He needed to go, he needed to run, they'd find him. His heart was racing again as he pushed himself up to stand behind the dumpster. He needed to bolt; they might not be able to catch him if he went fast enough.

Thomas heard their soft footsteps by the front of the alley; they were moving toward him. He took a deep breath and ran, his arms pumping madly as he sprinted out the other side of the alley. He heard shouting and the men's footsteps picking up, but he didn't slow down.

He ran down a dark street, trying his best to keep close to the houses for some coverage. He didn't dare look behind him, but he knew they were close.

His chest was heaving again before he was even down the street. He needed an escape quickly, or he was done for.

An idea popped into Thomas' head that he didn't like, but he didn't have a choice.

Thomas stopped running completely. He calmly walked into the middle of the street, turning and facing the mass of men running toward him. He saw them skid to a halt, looking at each other suspiciously.

"What's the kid doing?" one of the guys asked another quietly.

Thomas closed his eyes, willing every part of his body to stay still so he could focus.

He reached out his palms, trying to drown out the noise of the men screaming at each other to 'just tackle him already.'

Thomas felt it then, the darkness spreading through his body. He opened his eyes and gasped, his veins ran black under his skin, making him look truly terrifying.

"What the fuck is that?" one man yelled, stopping in his tracks again. Thomas knew they couldn't touch him anymore, not now, not when he was like this.

Thomas's vision blurred, and his head started spinning. No, no, not now, stay awake! Thomas screamed to himself in his mind. He couldn't move. He felt like the ground was swallowing his legs, coating them in unbreakable cement. He lost control of his eyes, feeling them flicker back and forth behind his eyelids that had snapped closed. He felt dizzy, sick, and overwhelmed. This was a horrible idea. Once he started, he couldn't ever stop.

Then the screaming started. Multiple horrific screams that just got louder. Thomas had pain in his ears, nd he could feel something leaking out of them. He assumed it was blood.

Another scream started that he instantly recognized as his own. Everything hurt, and his arms were shaking. The world was shaking. He wanted it to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

Thomas shoved his arms against the force holding them there, his face scrunching up with the effort. With one final scream, he ripped through whatever was holding him and snapped his eyes open. It was as if a switch had flipped, and everything was suddenly calm. The street was dark, and the only sounds were the night.

Thomas hesitantly looked at the ground before him, seeing the unmoving bodies of the men in front of him. A mix of terrible guilt and relief spread over his body. Then the exhaustion seeped in. His ears were ringing, and his breathing came out long and slow.

Thomas! Thomas, can you hear me?

"What? Who-who's talkin?" Thomas slurred as he staggered across the ground, toward the stop sign. He wanted to lie down and sleep.

Thomas, listen to me. I need you to get to the intersection. Go quickly, before you pass out. Can you do that for me?

Thomas hit his temple. "Get out of my head, whoever you are."

Thomas, I need you to move. Just focus on getting to that intersection.

Thomas struggled to keep his eyes open. The street was spinning worse than before, and his limbs felt like cinder blocks. "I'm tired."

Stay with me, kid. Keep going. Do you see that car? You need to get into it right no-

Thomas couldn't hear the voice anymore. There were skidding sounds from behind him. He risked a glance and saw black trucks speeding to the scene with white letters W.C.K.D. printed across the sides. He looked back to the front, feeling like he was in some slow-motion dream.

"I-I can't walk anymore, sir. I-I'm gonna n-nap right h-here," Thomas slurred, feeling his eyelids drop.

STAY AWAKE! the voice screamed in his head, making Thomas jump. Suddenly, he lost control of his legs and found himself moving forward without meaning to. He was tired, so tired. He felt lightheaded, like he was walking on a cloud.

Soon enough, he was at the small black car the voice had been telling him to go to. The back door swung open, and the driver was leaning over, screaming at Thomas.

"GET IN, KID!"

Thomas heard gunshots behind him mixed with the slamming of doors.

Thomas practically fell into the seat, landing on something hard and jumping because there was nothing in sight. The door slammed shut, and the driver stepped on the gas, lurching the car forward.

A blond boy materialized under Thomas, shoving him off. "Get the blood hell off me, idiot."

"You're pretty," Thomas slurred, feeling entirely out of himself as he poked the blond boy's cheek, which made him scowl and slap it away.

"Newt?!" the driver screamed, sounding infuriated as he pushed down on the gas harder. "What the FUCK are you doing here?!"

The boy's cheeks flushed red. "I wanted to see the new mutie."

"You're in so muc-"

Thomas couldn't hear the rest because that's when he passed out.

"Welcome back, Thomas."

Thomas slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the face hovering above him. It was a bald man, really old looking, with a crooked smile on his face.

Thomas sat up quickly, scooting back towards the wall. "Who are you? Why am I here? Are you the police?"

"Thomas, calm down." The man gently put a hand on his arm. "You're safe here. I promise."

Thomas flinched at the touch, his head spinning again. He was in a weird room that almost looked like an infirmary.

"I-I don't..." Thomas trailed off, his eyes darting between the room and the old man's face.

Then he was smiling, a warm smile that somehow made Thomas feel at ease. "You're curious. I like you, reminds me of myself."

"Where am I?" Thomas asked, sitting up more and pulling the blanket up to his chest. For some reason, blankets always made him feel safe, like hiding under one would keep the evil of the world out. It was a major false sense of security. Thomas learned the hard way that there's a big difference between being safe and feeling safe.

"You're at a school, a school for gifted people."

Thomas screnched his face. "But I'm not gifted."

"Yes, you are, Thomas. The things that you can do, you're not alone. You're not the only one."

Thomas opened and closed his mouth a few times before letting out a breath. It was all confusing and too much.

"Have you ever heard of the X-Men, Thomas?"

Stupid question. Who didn't know who the X-Men were? A team of badass mutants, of course, Thomas knew them. Idolized them even. It clicked. Something in his brain clicked, and everything made sense.

"Oh my go... yo-you're him," Thomas stammered, feeling completely shell-shocked.

The man nodded. Welcome to Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Thomas jumped when the voice appeared again. "T-that was you in the street? In my head? You're Charles Xavier? Like the most powerful mutant in the world, Charles Xavier?"

The man chuckled, turning hi selectric wheelchair away from the bed. "Professor X will do."

"And you brought me here? Why?"

The professor stopped and turned around again, looking at Thomas. "Because, like I said, you're gifted, Thomas."

"No! No FUCKING way!" The blond boy snapped, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"You decided to sneak out, this is your punishment."

"No, Hank! I'm not doing it! He can find his way around the place by himself!"

The man sighed, throwing his hands up. "You're impossible. You're doing this, or I'll have no choice but to expel you."

Thomas looked between the scowling blond boy and the man with the small glasses. He vaguely remembered their faces from the night he was picked up, but most of that night was fuzzy in Thomas' memories, and pieces were missing.

The man with the glasses, Hank, turned to Thomas, smiling awkwardly. "Do you remember Newt? Well, he's going to show you around for the next couple of days."

Newt rolled his eyes, letting out a breath. "Yeah, whatever."

"Newt!" Hank snapped, looking utterly exhausted. Of course, Thomas didn't know Newt, but he was already not really looking forward to being around him.

"What?!" Newt shot back. "You can't force me to like it!"

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

Newt was snickering, a slight smirk plastered across his face.

When Hank looked back up, he gave Thomas an extremely exaggerated smile. "If you need anything, let me know." Then he glared at Newt before rubbing his temples and walking away.

Newt let out a long whistle as he disappeared down the hallway. "He's too easy."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Thomas asked, speaking up for the first time that day.

Newt made a face at him, then rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Wait, where are you go-" Thomas trailed off as he watched Newt head down the hall in the opposite direction.

Newt dramatically groaned and turned around to look at him. "Come if you want, but I'm not babysitting you."

Thomas frowned, but followed the boy anyway. He decided he didn't like Newt, but he was his best chance of figuring out what exactly was going on.

Thomas felt like he was in a dream as he trailed behind Newt. Before that moment, he never really gave himself time to take in where he was. He was able to come to the conclusion that the so-called school was more of a mansion. It was huge, yet simple and beautiful at the same time.

Thomas snapped out of his daze when he ran straight into Newt's back, not realizing the blond boy had stopped.

Newt turned around and shoved him backwards, making Thomas' back hit the wall. "Stay off me, would ya'?!"

Thomas opened and closed his mouth. "I-I didnt mea t-"

Newt waved his hand, shaking his head. "Whatever, greenie."

Thomas frowned again, which seemed to amuse Newt.

"There's your room," Newt pointed at a door with the small number twenty-six printed on the wood.

"I get a room?" Thomas asked, his eyes widening a little like he was in shock.

Newt rolled his eyes, and he shoved the door open. "Home, sweet home."

Thomas ignored Newt's attitude and walked into the room slowly, as if he moved too fast, it would all go away.

The room wasn't huge by any means. There was a small bed with a dresser pushed against one of the walls. There was even a window, an actual window! Thomas felt a smile pull across his lips as he ran his hand over the dark red comforter. "This is all mine?"

Newt was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and an extremely bored expression on his face. "I already said it was yours."

Thomas felt giddy; he hadn't had his room since he was seven — his own bed, his own door that he could actually shut.

"Yo, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting like a bloody kid on Christmas?" Newt asked as he watched Thomas roam around the room.

Thomas scooped the blanket that was folded on the end of the bed into his arms, pushing his face into the warm fabric. It was the softest thing he's ever held. "I haven't had my own room in over ten years," Thomas mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric.

New rolled his eyes, but Thomas didn't pay him any attention. He had his own room, a place to sleep that wasn't the streets, and he was staying in the same building as Charles Xavier, the Professor X.

Thomas felt tears prick at his eyes as he flopped backward on the bed. He had a place he could call home.

"Can I leave now?" Newt asked suddenly, making Thomas turn his head and frown. "I don't wanna be here when you start jacking off to the paint on the walls."

Thomas let out a breath, feeling his patience wearing thin with the blond boy. "Where's your room?"

"Unfortunately, right next door. Don't knock on my door. Ever. And don't come in. No one is allowed in my room, absolutely no one. Got it?"

Thomas bit back a rebuke and just nodded. "I won't."

Newt left, shutting the door tightly behind him. Thomas felt relieved when he was gone. He wasn't sure what he did to make Newt hate him so much, but he was coming to the conclusion that Newt just hated everyone. The place was huge though, at least from what Thomas had seen so far. He could make different friends.

He wondered how many other kids like him were living here, what they could do and what their names were. He wondered if the X-Men, a band of elite mutants, still existed. He wondered if he could stay here forever, if the soft colored room could be his until he grew up. He wondered if the other kids would like him, if he'd be able to talk to people other than Newt.

Letting out a shaky breath, Thomas rolled onto his side and looked out the window. The grass was still green, but the trees were starting to change colours due to it being fall. It looked like a courtyard. There was a lake, and if he squinted, he could make out some people running around on he grass. It wasn't even dark out yet, but Thomas didn't want to leave the bed. He wrapped the blanket around himself, burrowing into it. He felt safe again. It was a fantastic feeling, something he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

He was in a new place where he didn't know anybody, but for some reason, Thomas didn't feel alone. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere. The orphanages were terrible, he was always on edge, and he didn't make friends; they were more like temporary alliances. He'd gotten them down to a science, though. Being in and out of the system since he was seven had taught him things. He didn't know why his parent dropped him off and never came back, but he did know that a Twix bar was like gold in those places. He knew not to cause trouble with the big kids and to push around the small ones. He knew that you had to always have eyes in the back of your head. Thomas lived his life that way for ten years, a whole decade, just surviving. Now, at the school, he felt like he could live. He didn't have a bargain to get food, bribe the boys not to snitch to sneak out at night or even run from the men that hunted him. Here Thomas was safe, and, for once in his life, he found himself feeling happy. One day at school had been better than the past ten years.

Thomas sighed contentedly, rolling over and facing the closed door. The bed was comfy and the pillows were soft and fluffy under his head.

Suddenly, guilt erupted in Thomas' chest, and he sat up quickly. He couldn't lie down. He couldn't fall asleep. He was wrapped up in a bed he could never actually sleep in because if Thomas fell asleep, there was no doubt in his mind that someone would end up dead.

Chapter Text

"Why do you look like shit?" Newt asked as they walked across the courtyard.

Thomas knew what he was talking about. He knew he had giant bags under his eyes. He knew his eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale. He always looked like that; lack of sleep had that effect on a person.

"Thanks," Thomas grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Newt shrugged, dropping it as he kept walking.

Thomas narrowed his eyes, looking at the blond boy. "You're not gonna ask more?"

"No?" Newt looked at him with a bored expression. "You said don't worry about it, and honestly, I don't really care whatever is wr-"

"Yo, blondie!" A guy yelled from across the grass.

Newt's face broke out into a smile. It was the first time Thomas saw him look anything but downright pissed.

"Hey, Minho," Newt punched the guy in the shoulder when he got close enough to them.

The boy had dark hair and dark eyes, but honestly, the most striking thing about him was the gorgeous muscles on his arms.

"Who's your friend? Why does he look like shit?" The boy asked as his eyes fell on Thomas.

Newt rolled his eyes. "The greenie, remember? The one who blew up the fuckin' street."

"You know I'm standing right here?" Thomas asked in complete disbelief. He wasn't surprised Newt was being rude; he was just surprised by the way he was going about it.

Minho frowned, "The babysitting duty guy?"

Newt nodded, completely ignoring Thomas. "Yeah. So, obviously, I can't go with you guys this week."

Minho looked at Thomas carefully, like he was studying him. "You can't leave him alone for a night?"

Newt shook his head. "Hank will have my ass. You know he hates me and sneaking onto the missi-"

"Maybe he hates you because you're an asshole!" Thomoas snapped, surprising Newt and himself.

"Excuse me, greenie? What did you say to me?"

"You're rude all the time for no reason!" Thomas flailed his arms, trying to gesture something. He blamed it on sheer exhaustion; he wasn't in his right mind.

Newt covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"What?!" Thomas was beyond annoyed now.

"Your attempt at telling me off was pretty funny." Newt stepped closer and shoved his chest, making Thomas stumble backwards. "You get a warning this time, but if you ever," Newt grabbed the collar of his shirt and pointed a finger in his face, "ever, talk to me like that again, I'll make your life hell. Got it?"

Thomas shoved Newt off him. The blond boy may have been taller, but Thomas was definitely stronger.

Newt glared at him. "Listen here, Tommy," Newt spat out the nickname. "I don't like you, we're not friends, the only reason I'm talking to you is so I don't get expelled. Don't fuck this up."

Minho grabbed Newt's arm then. "Yo, feisty, settle down."

Newt huffed and yanked his arm out of Minho's grasp before disappearing completely.

Thomas' eyes widened almost comically. "What the f-"

Minho rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. "Come on, Newt, don't do this. I'm not chasing you again."

Silence fell, and Minho's eyes were observing the grass, as if he were waiting for it to get up and move. Thomas couldn't wrap his head around what was going on. How did Newt disappear into thin air like that?

Suddenly, Minho's head snapped up toward the school. Almost like magic, Newt reappeared about fifty feet away, storming toward the building angrily.

"Newt! I'm not babysitting your kid!" Minho yelled from across the courtyard. Newt didn't even turn around.

"How did he..." Thomas trailed off, looking between Newt, who was almost inside the school, and Minho.

"It's his stupid ability. Turning invisible. Better watch out 'cause he can do it to stuff he touches too. He can make things look different, like making your pillow look like a snake. He's crazy."

Thomas was quiet for a moment. He didn't want Minho to hate him like Newt did. "What can you do?"

Minho grinned as he rolled up his sleeve and flexed his arm. "Touch."

Thomas hesitantly put his hand on Minho's bicep, his eyes widening again when he did. It was hard, not like Muscle hard; it felt like stone.

Thomas hit his arm, looking at it in disbelief when he felt the stone again.

Minho rolled his sleeve back down. "Think of it like material manipulation. I can make myself into whatever I want. I can do stone, metal, and other stuff like that. I never look any different, though, which is the nice part."

"So you're kinda indestructible?"

Minho shrugged. "More or less, super strong too. I could probably break your skull in my right hand."

Thomas took a step back, which made Minho laugh. "Come on, relax. I'm not as uptight as Newtie. I think you're alright. Walk with me," Minho took his arm, dragging him along the shoreline of the lake in the courtyard. It was a beautiful place. The school looked even bigger from the outside; the stone towering over the courtyard almost resembled a castle. There were kids outside, sitting on the grass, talking and hanging out. They all looked so happy.

"So what can you do?" Minho asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"Your ability. What is it?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Newt said you blew up a st-"

"That wasn't supposed to happen. I killed people, several people. I don't even know what it is. My veins run black, and my eyes close, and I feel outside myself. When it's over, people are dead, and I pass out."

Minho was quiet for a second before whispering, "That's kinda badass."

"No, it's not. It's horrible."

"No, it's awesome. Once you learn how to use it at least."

Thomas yawned, his eyes watering. He was exhausted.

"Why don't you sleep?" Minho asked, observing Thomas.

"It's bad when I sleep. It's like, when I'm awake, I have a way of fighting it, but when I'm asleep, it just goes free. I've hurt so many people that way."

Minho cocked his head curiously. "Well, you really look like shit."

"Newt said the same thing." Thomas frowned as he pulled the collar of his hoodie up higher to cover the bottom half of his face.

Minho just laughed. "You know Alex blew up the school once? Like the whole thing just went up in flames. Jean kinda destroyed the walls and Scott cut a whole tree in half."

"What?"

Minho smiled softly at him. "Past students, you've heard of them, but they started here, too. They destroyed stuff. X built it back. The point is, you can sleep, Thomas. You don't have to be scared anymore. We know how to deal with this kind of thing. X won't let you hurt anyone, remember, he can control that fucked up brain of yours.

"Why are you so much nicer than Newt?"

Minho laughed again, shaking his head and stopping to look out over the lake. "I'm not nicer than him. Maybe to you, but I'm the asshole. Newt's precious."

"He sure hates me, though," Thomas frowned.

Minho shrugged. "New works in weird ways. He's been through some shit. I'm not defending him; he is kinda a bitch to you, but something might be wrong."

Thomas huffed and ran a hand over his face. "Whatever."

Minho clasped a hand on his back. "I think you should go to sleep. I'll warn X about your murderous dreams so you don't have to worry, alright?"

Thomas smiled at him. "Thank you, Minho."

"And hey, before you go, you should let Newt leave this weekend and not rat on him. You can handle yourself for two days, right?"

Thomas didn't want to be left alone, and he also didn't want to do Newt a favour, but Minho was nice, and he didn't want the only person who'd been nice to him to hate him. "Yeah, I won't tell."

Minho grinned. "Atta boy, I knew I had a good feeling about you. Now get to bed."

Thomas nodded, turning and walking in the direction of the school. He wasn't even sure if he knew how to get back to his room, but he figured exploring might be good for him. The sooner he could figure out the workings of this school, the sooner he could get away from Newt.

He pushed the massive doors open, entering what looked like the main foyer of the building. There was a monumental staircase and several openings to other halls. Thomas wondered how many kids like him were here. There were a lot of rooms, and the courtyard was full earlier. Thomas took a turn down a random hall to the right. He vaguely remembered going left to get out of the mansion, so he assumed he was at least headed somewhat in the right direction.

Thomas watched the numbers as he walked, seeing them get closer to fifty. He sighed. He was never going to find his room.

"Are you lost?" A voice asked from behind him.

Thomas turned around quickly, coming face to face with a girl.

"I, uhh, yeah," Thomas admitted as he hung his head.

"You're Newt's boy, right?" She asked as she looked Thomas up and down.

"Why do people keep talking about me like I'm his property!" Thomas snapped. "I hate being stuck with him just as much as he hates being stuck with me."

"Whoa," the girl put her hands up in surrender, her blue eyes widening. "I was kidding."

Thomas sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "Sorry. I'm tired."

"Yeah, you kinda look like shit."

Thomas rolled his eyes."Are you Newt's friend? You act just like him."

"I am actually. My name's Teresa, but Newt and I are nothing alike."

"What can you do?"

"What?"

"Your mutation or whatever."

Teresa laughed. "I don't have one."

"So you're just normal?"

"Technically speaking. Moira's my aunt."

Thomas looked at her blankly. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

Teresa shrugged. "Guess not. It doesn't matter much anyway."

Thomas gave her a half smile. There was something off about the black-haired, blue-eyed girl. She seemed so out of place. Not that Thomas didn't feel that way himself, but the way she fidgeted when she stood made Thomas wary of her. He was going to ask Newt later, even if he got pissy about it.

"You still need help finding your room, right?" Teresa asked as she watched Thomas glance down the hall.

He nodded.

Teresa smiled widely, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "We gotta go one hall over."

Thomas felt his cheeks heat up at the contact. In all honesty, he's never held hands with another person before. He tried not to focus on it, instead he looked at the numbers on the doors as Teresa pulled him along, trying to remember their route.

Finally, he recognized the hallway they were in. He faltered slightly when he saw that Newt's door was open.

Teresa noticed and stopped. "What's wrong?"

Thomas cocked his head. "Newt's door. It's open, but he's not in there."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "He's in there. He's just throwing another tantrum."

"What?"

Teresa pulled something out of her pocket and threw it at the empty bed.

"Bloody hell!" Newt appeared on the bed, rubbing his upper arm. "What the fuck, Teresa?"

"I found your boy wandering the halls. I had to save him."

New huffed. "He was fine. He has a brain; he can use it."

Thomas was uncomfortable again; he just wanted to try and sleep. "I'm just gonna," he motioned to his door, which was next to Newt's.

Teresa nodded. "Okay, have fun. I'll be here."

"Uh, no, you won't be," Newt scowled as Teresa walked into his room. "Get out, T, I mean it."

Teresa rolled her eyes and took a few steps back. "Sorry, I forgot you're fuckin' anal about having people in your roo-"

Thomas droned out the rest of their conversation as he went into his room and shut the door. Thomas pulled his shirt off, tossing it on the floor. His pants came off next, leaving him in just his boxers. He crawled into bed, burying himself in the covers.

As soon as his head hit the fluffy pillow, he could feel the sleep taking over. He was completely and utterly exhausted. His eyelids fell closed, and he could feel himself drifting.

After mere seconds, Thomas was asleep.

Everything was dark, completely black. Thomas could barely move; he felt like he was walking on clouds, slipping and falling through a floor that wasn't even there. It was happening again. Fuck, it was happening again.

Thomas used his feet to scoot back against the wall, closing his eyes and throwing his hands over his ears again. The men stormed through the room, disappearing through the walls somehow.

Thomas. Hey, Thomas. I need you to wake up now.

Thomas pulled his knees closer to his chest, trying to close in on himself. He felt the blood running through his veins; it hurt.

"I-I can't, I-I can't wake up." Tears were running down his cheeks, and he was shaking.

Thomas, this isn't real

Thomas finally let out a scream; it was so loud that he could hear it through his hands, which were clamped tightly over his ears. The world was spinning again, and his head felt like it was trying to escape out of his ears.

"Make it STOP!" Thomas yelled, the tears rolling down his cheeks faster now. The weird men kept running past him; their footsteps were so loud, he felt like he was stuck in a stampeding herd.

Thomas. He felt a hand on his arm. Thomas, open your eyes.

"I can't. It hurts. Make it stop."

I'm going to count to three and you're going to open your eyes. Ready?

Thomas nodded weakly, fresh waves of tears still coming.

One. Two. Three

Thomas used all his power to wrench his eyelids open, gasping when he did. He was thrown back, the wind knocked out of him. The scene changed immediately, resembling his room back at the school. He moved his hand, feeling wood under him as he came back to his senses. He sat up slowly, feeling dizzy.

He was back in his room, the professor was above him in his wheelchair. Upon further inspection, he noticed the curtains were singed and all the dresser doors were pulled out and dumped.

"Welcome back, Thomas," Xavier said, smiling softly at him.

"Did I hurt anybody?"

The professor shook his head, "Everyone is fine."

Thomas rubbed his head. "I knew I shouldn't have slept."

"Does this happen every time you sleep?"

Thomas nodded, "I don't know why, but I can't control it."

The professor smiled, "You will be able to. That's my job, to teach you how to control it."

Thomas felt his heart clench when he looked at the room. It was a mess. "I'm sorry about the room."

Xavier laughed, which confused Thomas. "You think you're the first one to destroy a room? You shouldn't be upset, Thomas; you should be excited. You discovered your gift. It's not a curse, and we're going to figure out exactly what you can do."

That made Thomas feel better. "You're not mad?"

The professor shook his head. "Of course I'm not mad, Thomas. What do you think we do at this school? Math? No. We train and, most of the time, that involves breaking a thing or two."

Thomas smiled softly, hoisting himself off the floor and sitting back on the bed, ignoring that the sheets were torn off and the pillow was somehow ripped in half.

"Since we have a guest, I think he would be more than happy to help you clean this up."

Thomas looked confused until Newt appeared in the corner.

"Bloody hell, how do you always know I'm there?!"

Xavier looked at Thomas before turning his wheelchair around. "Even when you think you're being quiet, you're loud in your mind."

Newt opened and closed his mouth a few times before pulling his lips into a hard frown.

The boys were quiet as the professor rolled out of the room. As soon as he left, Newt angrily slammed the door closed.

"Why were you in here in the first place?" Thomas asked as Newt glared at him.

"I saw you destroy a whole army of men. I wanted to see what else you could do."

Thomas rolled his eyes as he got off the bed and started pulling the sheets back in place.

"You really are a freak, man," Newt said as he squatted down to scoop clothes off the floor.

"Thanks," Thomas scoffed as he put the comforter back into place and frowned at the pillow.

"I have two."

"What?"

"I stole one a few months ago; you can have my extra." Newt motioned to the pillow.

Thomas didn't know how to say thank you. He felt like Newt would laugh if he verbally said it, so he just threw one of the pieces of the ripped pillow at him.

Newt smirked and waved his hand. Thomas watched in awe as it turned into a bird.

"How did," Thomas started, stopping when the bird disappeared and the pillow half rested in Newt's hand.

"Magic."

Thomas rolled his eyes, which made Newt huff out a small laugh.

They cleaned the rest of the room in silence, barely even looking at each other. When they were finished, Thomas looked up at Newt, who already had his hand on the doorknob.

"Who's Teresa?"

Newt snorted, "That bitch? Ignore her. She probably wants you to bone her."

"But-"

Newt was out the door before Thomas could even finish his sentence.

Chapter Text

"Focus, Thomas."

"I'm trying!" Thomas shouted as he squeezed his eyes shut and thrust his hands out in front of him.

"You have to stop fighting it." The professor was sitting in the chair, watching Thomas struggle in the training room. The room was grey, more silver actually, and the walls looked to be made of some weird type of metal. Xavier assured Thomas that he couldn't break anything in the room, but he was still terrified.

Thomas turned around and kicked the wall in frustration. "I don't even know what I can do!" Thomas shouted, now pulling at his hair. "All I know is people end up dead when I do whatever it is!"

"We're trying to figure out what you can do."

"How can we do that if I don't even know how to make it happen?!"

"It's always frustrating at first."

Thomas’ anger was spiralling. “I can't do it! I've told you over and over, I can't and I won't ever be able to do it!"

“You're just not focusing." Thomas swore he saw the hint of a smirk on the man's face, which pissed him off more than anything else ever could have.

“I told you I CAN'T FUCKING DO IT!" Thomas screamed, feeling something explode in his head. He felt his body get thrown back, groaning as he hit the wall. He slowly opened his eyes, holding out his arm and gasping as he saw the veins run black.

Shit shit shit shit. Thomas sucked in a harsh breath of air, his chest arching up as he felt his body collapse on itself. His eyes were forced closed, and he felt air rush back into his lungs, almost overwhelming him.

Keep your eyes open, Thomas. There was that fucking voice again. The professor and his stupid power.

"Get out of my head!" Thomas screamed, clamping his hands over his ears like it would do anything.

Just open your eyes.

Thomas whimpered and rolled over, sitting up. It sounded like rough water was rushing past his ears, like he was stuck in an insane river.

Thomas took a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart rate. Eyes. Open your eyes. Thomas willed himself, keeping his hands clenched over his ears.

Thomas counted down from five in his head, screaming as he finally opened his eyes. It took a massive amount of effort, but once they were open, everything stopped. It was calm nothingness; the world was silent.

Thomas put his hand on the ground, feeling a surface but only seeing blackness. He slowly stood up, relishing in the silence.

Thomas blinked a few times, looking down at his arms. He could still see the black running through his veins, but it was soft now, running slowly and calmly.

"Hello?" Thomas called out into the room. "Is anyone there?"

He heard footsteps behind him, causing him to turn quickly. It was the man again, the one with black eyes. He didn't move, just stood still like a skeleton standing out in the shadows.

"Uh-," Thomas was quickly cut off when the man pressed the barrel of a gun to his forehead.

Thomas swallowed hard, feeling his heart rate pick up again. He winced, feeling pinpricks in his arms.

The man cocked his head, pressing the barrel harder into Thomas' forehead.

They stood there silently, Thomas' heart pounding, and the man keeping the weapon with firm pressure on Thomas' forehead.

Now do it, Thomas.

"Do what?" Thomas shouted, his voice echoing off the walls he couldn't even see.

Your power. Use it.

"I thought this was my power!" Thomas could feel hot tears running down his cheeks.

Look at your hands.

Thomas flicked his gaze down to his hands, flinching slightly. They had black smoke travelling around them, almost like he was controlling it to circle his palm and fingers.

The man hadn't moved, keeping the gun pointed.

It was like instinct took over, Thomas flicked his wrist, and the man's arm went limp. Suddenly, he started sliding down to the floor, causing Thomas's eyes to widen. The man had been completely cut in half.

Good job. It's time to come back now.

Thomas pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to see what he just did.

When his eyes stung, he took his hands away, blinking a few times to clear his vision.

"Ho-" Thomas scrunched his face in confusion as he looked around him. He was back in the training room.

"Very good." The professor was smiling and nodding his head; it freaked Thomas out.

"I just killed someone! How is that good?!" Thomas shouted, motioning to the empty ground, as if a body would magically appear.

"It wasn't real, Thomas."

"I'm so confused." Thomas sighed, rubbing his temples. He had a headache.

"We're done for today. You can go back to your room."

"What? Are you gonn-" Xavier was gone before Thomas could even finish his sentence.

Thomas huffed and picked up his sweatshirt from where he dropped it on the floor. He pulled it over his head as he walked through the sliding doors.

He knew how to get to his room from the training room, so he headed down the hall by himself. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and sighed as he walked.

Everything was just so confusing. He didn't understand why he didn't faint. He didn't understand what he could do or what he had just done. It was all so stressful and confusing.

Thomas faltered as he walked by Newt's room. The door was wide open, but it was empty. Thomas squinted, trying to see if he could make out Newt anywhere in the room. On one hand, Thomas did want Newt to like him. He was an asshole, yeah, but he had friends, which was something Thomas never did. He grabbed the handle of Newt's door, pulling it closed.

"Yo Tommy, you can leave it open," Newt said as he suddenly appeared on the bed, his legs crossed and his arms tucked behind his head. Thomas tried to play off the fact that he jumped by running his hands through his hair.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I was uh-. I thought you weren't there."

"That's kinda the point of being invisible."

Thomas turned to leave, but stopped when Newt snapped his fingers, "Hold up."

Thomas watched him sit up on the bed, hanging his legs over the side. Thomas went to enter the room, but Newt shook his head. "Don't cross the line."

“What are you talking about?" Thomas asked, sounding annoyed. He decided to drop his earlier mindset of not wanting Newt to hate him; he was suddenly reminded of how irritating he was.

"No one's allowed in my room."

Thomas sighed and sat down in the hall, crossing his legs and glaring at Newt. "Is this better?"

"Perfect." Newt smiled as he stretched before standing up. "So what's up with you?"

"What?"

"We all got a backstory here, what's yours? Mommy or daddy issues?"

Thomas scoffed. "Both."

Newt pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the ground. It took Thomas by surprise. Newt looked scrawny, but he hid muscles under his clothes. Thomas only got to look for a second before he was pulling a hoodie on over his head and plopping down on the floor across from
Thomas.

"Same."

Thomas shrugged, looking down at the floor. He didn't want to sit there and converse about the good old days with Newt of all people, but he did want to talk to someone who understood.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Instead of an answer, Thomas blurted out the first question that popped into his head.

Newt rolled his eyes. "You really gotta learn to toughen up, Tommy."

"And why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Tommy."

“'Cause it's your name." Newt looked at him with a confused expression, like How could this boy be so stupid?

"Thomas is my name."

Newt shrugged. "Same thing." Then he smirked and leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees to hold himself up. "Why? Does it bother you, Tommy?"

Thomas rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "You're infuriating."

Newt put his hand on his chest, wiping away a fake tear., "You wound me so."

"Can I leave now?" Thomas asked, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Not until you tell me your tragic backstory. Come on, let it go, I wanna cry." Newt rested his chin in his hands, looking at Thomas with his big brown eyes.

"There isn't much to tell. They just upped and left when I started doing whatever it is I can do. They left me on the street. I got picked up by an orphanage and have been in the system ever since."

“Weak."

"What?" Thomas' head snapped up, facing Newt with pure shock.

"I said it's a weak story. My parents both died. Well, they were murdered, actually. Minho's story is even worse. He had to eat his own brother to avoid starving to death."

"That's not true."

"First part is, second isn't." Newt laughed, messing up his hair with his fingers. "Minho doesn't even have siblings."

Thomas' mouth opened and closed. He has no idea what to say. "You're seriously fucked up."

Newt shrugged. "Not the first person to tell me that."

“I don't understand you at all. How can you even joke about something like that?"

Newt rolled onto his back, kicking his feet up in the air. "When you've been here as long as I have, Tommy, you'll get it. You make jokes or you get depressed."

Thomas was quiet for a moment, tracing an imaginary circle on the ground with his fingertip. "Do you ever miss them?"

“My parents?”

Thomas nodded, feeling his chest tighten. He missed his parents desperately. He still had memories of them. He remembered when his dad bought him a bike and taught him how to ride it. He remembered Christmas morning. He remembered pretending to have nightmares so he could sleep in between them in their massive king-sized bed. He remembered eating cereal on the couch with his mom while they watched some stupid cartoon. Most of all, he remembered feeling loved. It was a feeling he'd kill to have again.

Newt's tone softened, getting serious for a moment. "Tommy, I can promise you that you won't find one kid in this place who doesn't miss their parents. But listen to me, sittin’ around missing them won't do anything for you." Newt sat up then, looking Thomas dead in the eyes. "Sometimes you gotta make a new family, your own family."

And with that, Newt stood up, dusting off his jeans. "You're not gonna snitch on me, right?"

"What?" Thomas asked, standing up too, so he didn't feel so small.

"I'm leaving, sneakin’ out for the night. You're not gonna tell?"

Thomas nodded, feeling a pang in his stomach. Did Newt only talk to him because he wanted his silence?

“Good that," Newt said before disappearing complêtely. Thomas stared at the place he was for a second longer before shaking his head and heading to his own room. After talking to Newt, he was more confused than he was after training. This place was weird, the students were weird, and the professors were weird. He wanted to know where Newt was going, but he also wanted to retreat to his room and avoid talking to people.

Deciding on the latter, Thomas got into his bed, curling under the covers and relishing in the imaginary sense of safety the blankets gave him.

“Minho! Minho, hey!" Thomas shouted as he jogged to catch up with the buff boy.

Minho stopped, noticing Thomas and smiling. "Oh, hey, it's Newt's pet, what's up?"

“I just wanted to ask you something about him, actually. We had kinda a weird conversation a few days ago."

Most conversations with Newt are weird." The buff boy laughed, motioning for Thomas to keep walking with him. "What was this one about?"

"His parents. He told me they were murdered."

Minho looked visibly shocked. "He told you that?"

Thomas nodded. "No details, just that they were murdered."

Minho's shoulders sagged, and he ran his hand over his face. "It was the twenty-first, wasn't it?"

"I think so. It was when he went out with you guys."

Minho sighed. "| should have known damnit."

"Known what?"

"It was the anniversary of the whole thing. It messed Newt up. He tries to keep busy not to think about it, but I can always tell when he's upset."

"Where did you guys even go?"

"To Newt's favourite pub, he has a thing with the bartender, so he gets to drink for free if he bats his pretty little eyes." Minho huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Fuckin twink." Minho paused and looked at Thomas. "I'm only allowed to call him that because he's my best friend. If you call him that, I'll break your nose.”

Thomas put his hands up in surrender. "I wasn't planning on it. Am I allowed to ask what happened with Newt's parents?"

Minho frowned, looking like he was contemplating something. "I don't know if that's my story to tell."

"Understandable."

"I think I'm gonna let him tell you that one, if he ever chooses to. I'll just tell you that it was awful, and nobody should have to go through that."

"Does everyone have horrible backstories here?"

Minho laughed at that, clasping Thomas on the back. "Pretty much, life doesn't usually work out well for us."

Thomas looked at Minho, zoning out as he thought about what Minho could have gone through. It almost made him sad to think that the boy had to endure something as awful as he and Newt did.

Minho rolled his eyes. "You wear your thoughts on your face, dude. Just ask if you want to know." Minho cracked his knuckles and gave Thomas a lopsided smile. "My parents tried to off me before I wound up here. Didn't want a freak son, so they tried to stage an accident. Obviously, it didn't work because I'm still here. They didn't even think I knew what they tried to do, but when I hightailed it out of there, it became pretty clear. I never looked back.' Minho grinned and put his hands on his hips. "Life is better here, ya know? No crazy parents are trying to toss me out the second-story window."

Thomas frowned, feeling that pit in his stomach grow bigger. He was used to hanging with people who carried terrible pasts. Almost everyone in the orphanages was messed up somehow, but these kids reached a whole new level of fucked up.

"Don't think about it too much, Thomas." Minho squeezed Thomas' bicep lightly. "Thinking is what gets you in a bad place, okay? You got friends now, a weird mutant family and most importantly, a home, yeah?"

Thomas nodded, looking at Minho with a soft smile. "Thanks."

"It's always hard at first; it'll get easier."

Thomas huffed out a laugh. "Sure, and maybe Newt will stop hating me."

Minho shook his head at that. "Newt doesn't hate you. Come on, you're smarter than this."

"I'm confu-"

Minho cut him off by putting his hand in front of Thomas' face. "That's enough Newt talk for me. I've got places to be. I'll catch you around." And with that, Minho mock saluted him and headed down the hallway, disappearing around a corner. Thomas huffed. He was sick of always feeling so confused; it felt like no one told him anything ever.

Thomas walked back to the main foyer, dropping down on the floor against the wall and crossing his legs. He just wanted something, anything to make sense. Thomas rested his head in his hands and looked across the empty room. He liked the place, liked it a lot, but he didn't feel like he fit in. He wasn't in control like Newt or laid back like Minho.

He was about to let his eyes close when he remembered something that made his head snap up — the man. The man with no eyes, he'd seen him twice; it had to mean something.

Thomas leaned his head back against the wall, jumping when he saw someone standing on the steps, just watching him. It was the man from the car ride, Hank, whose name Thomas remembered somehow.

"Uh, hi."

"Are you busy?" He asked, fighting slightly.

Thomas shook his head, standing up and dusting himself off. "No. Why?"

"Professor wants to see you."

Thomas nodded, following Hank as he went back up the stairs.

They walked to a part of the school that Thomas hadn't been to before, travelling down a long hallway, then down a different flight of stairs. They stopped in a smaller room, one with a desk in front of a window, like an office of some sort. Thomas jumped when he noticed the professor sitting behind it; he hadn't even seen him.

Hank nodded at him before leaving and pulling the door shut behind him.

Thomas felt nervous all of a sudden, his palms starting to sweat.

"You can sit." The professor motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

Thomas sat down, fidgeting in the chair. He felt like he was in trouble. "You're not in trouble." He smiled suddenly.

Thomas' face flushed red as he desperately tried to still his mind. When someone had access to your thoughts, nothing felt safe.

"I called you here because I know what you are now."

"What?" Thomas cocked his head, genuinely feeling confused.

“Your power.”

That caught Thomas' interest; he moved to the edge of his seat, resting his hands on his knees. "What is it?"

"It's quite interesting, really." The professor sat back in his wheelchair, looking at Thomas. "Your power comes from fear. You channel energy from what people around you fear, which causes the black in your veins. That's why you were able to kill all the men in the street; they were afraid of you."

Thomas looked down at his hands. "So I'm a walking nightmare?"

The professor shook his head. "No, you just get your power from that. That first night you slept, it was as if your guard had fallen, and you couldn't block it out. When you get scared, it's like it amplifies it."

"I wasn't scared in the training room."

"Yes, you were. You were scared of disappointing me."

Thomas thought for a moment, and it all made sense. It was terrifying, but it was also somewhat relieving.

"What about that man I keep seeing? The one with no eyes?" Thomas blurted out.

Professor X smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, I've concluded that he's a fear of one of the students."

"Who?"

"You're smarter than to ask questions like that. People's pasts are private, Thomas, it's not something you try and dig up."

Thomas' mind flicked to Newt; he instantly felt guilty about trying to ask Minho about his parents.
"Well, how do I control it?" Thomas asked.

The professor smiled in an almost haunting way. "That's the hard part, you have to learn to stop fearing yourself.”

Chapter Text

"Hey, Nightmare." A voice appeared behind Thomas, making him jump.

"Don't do that!" Thomas snapped, turning around to see Newt shaking with laughter.

"You should have seen how high you jumped!" Newt cackled, bending over and resting his hands on his knees.

"It's not even that funny!" Thomas snapped, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He paused, watching Newt stand up and wipe his eyes. "Why did you call me Nightmare?"

Newt looked at him with a confused expression. "Because that's your mutant name, obviously. Did you not infer that?"

"Wait, is Newt not your real name?" Thomas looked at him in shock.

"Of course it's not my real name, who would name their kid Newt?" Newt huffed as he shook his head.

"Why Newt?"

"I didn't pick it, Min did. I think his thinking was like invisible, like a chameleon, but that sounded stupid, so Newt was the next best thing. I picked Min's, though. Min comes from mineral, and then the ho part because he's kinda a hoe.”

"And you just go by that name?"

Newt shrugged. "Yeah, it kinda stuck. Better than my real name anyway."

"Which is?"

None of your business."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "It's always so nice talking to you.”

"We're not friends, Tommy-boy." Newt crossed his arms. "You're my punishment, remember?”

"You really know how to make a boy feel special." Thomas scoffed, feeling offended again. Newt was confusing; he could be super friendly to him, but then turn around and be completely rude.

Newt shot him a fake smile and pinched his cheek. "Don't take it personally, baby."

Thomas swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me."

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a girl shouting down the hall. Newt rolled his eyes before putting on the fakest smile and turning around. "Hey, Teresa."
"Hi, Newt! Hey, Tom!" She grinned. Thomas blinked a few times when he saw her. She looked different than the first time he saw her. This time she had on jeans and a white shirt, which made her blue eyes look brighter and her black hair look darker. She honestly was very pretty.

"What brings you here, madame?" Newt asked as he dramatically bowed, making Teresa scoff.

"I was looking for you."

"Why?" Newt stood back up, scrunching his face up in confusion.

"You act like you mean nothing to me, moron.... I was gonna try and convince you to let Tom come with us tonight."

"Fuck no! I'm not babysitting!" Newt shouted, looking beyond angry.

"You guys know I'm right he-"

"Shut up, Thomas!" Newt snapped. "The adults are talking; stay out of this."

"Come on, Newt!" Teresa seemed unfazed by Newt's sudden, horrible mood. "You're mean to him all the time, we're the only friends he has, and you'll still have time to play with your little toy.”

"No! Do you know what the word no means, or can humans not wrap their heads around that concept?"

"Can you relax, please?!" Teresa shouted back, which just made Newt scowl.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "You throw tantrums like a fucking two-year-old when shit doesn't go your way."

"I go there to get drunk and get good sex. If I have to tend to the bloody kid all night, I'm not going to get either of those things!" Newt snapped, frowning hard. "Going there are the only nights I look forward to in this miserable life."

"What if I babysit him?" Teresa asked thoughtfully.

Newt hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking between Thomas and Teresa before he threw his arms up in exasperation. "Bloody fucking hell, whatever, but I mean it, I'm not doing jack shit for him."

Teresa grinned at Thomas as Newt scoffed and stormed off down the hall.
"I don't think I need to be babysa-

Teresa waved her hand, cutting Thomas off. "Ignore him, he just doesn't like change. He always gets like this."

Well, he seems pretty upset." Thomas frowned as he heard a door slam loudly; he assumed it was Newt's.

"He's fine, he just really doesn't like change."

"I don't have to go, it's fine...here am I even supposed to be going?"

"To that bar, I know Minho told you about it. Seriously, don't worry about Newt; he'll warm up to it. He got like this when I started hanging out with Minho and him."

"Okay bu-"

Teresa shook her head, cutting Thomas off yet again. "You're coming. I already decided.”

Thomas let out a breath, letting his shoulders sag. "Okay."

Teresa gently squeezed his bicep. Lighten up, it'll be fun. We'll leave at around ten, Newt will get you from your room."

Thomas just nodded, deciding that fighting her just wasn't worth it.

"Thomas," Teresa said sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. "Don't worry about Newt, okay? I promise he's fine."

"Okay." Thomas faked a smile at her, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. He felt like he was intruding. Just more reasons to feel like he didn't fit in.

"I’ll see you tonight, okay?" Teresa grinned at him, putting her hand on his arm again.

"Uh, yeah, okay." Thomas watched her walk away, feeling weird yet again. He didn't know why she wanted him to come so badly or why she kept touching him. He couldn't decide if he liked Teresa yet or not; he just hoped he wasn't making a mistake by hanging out with them.

Thomas jumped when he heard the knock on his door. He got out of bed instantly, hoping he didn't look too stupid. He had on ripped jeans and a plain black t-shirt. No one "hung out" in the orphanages, and he certainly wasn't ever allowed to go to fun places.

Thomas swung the door open, almost choking when he saw Newt. Newt had on the tightest pair of pants he'd ever seen, and his shirt was so small it cut off above his hips, leaving a strip of skin exposed.

"Ready?" Newt asked, his voice sounding emotionless. Thomas nodded, looking down at his outfit. He felt stupid, but he certainly didn't want to be dressed the way Newt was.

When he looked back up, Newt had a baggy hoodie on and was messing up his hair with his fingers. "We gotta meet Min in the courtyard."

"I don't have to come if you don't want me t-"

Newt rolled his eyes, grabbing Thomas by the wrist and dragging him out of the room. "Teresa wants to play with you. If I denied her that chance, I'd never hear the end of her whining."

Thomas blinked a few times as Newt dragged him down the hall. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't think too hard, you'll hurt yourself. Newt snickered as he pushed Thomas against the wall and put a hand on his chest.

"What the fuc-"

"Stop talking!" Newt snapped, looking down the hall before intertwining his and Thomas' fingers.

Thomas was about to pull away, but stopped when he saw Newt's eyes squeezed tightly shut and the grip on his hand tightened.

Newt's eyes flicked open again after a minute, causing the blond boy to smile.

Thomas' skin felt tingly all over. "What did you do?" he whisper-yelled, which just made Newt snicker.

"We're sneaking out, Tommy. It's easier if people can't see us."

Thomas looked down at their intertwined hands, feeling his cheeks heat up."I can still see us."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Of course you can, it's because I'm touching you."

Thomas continued to stare, which made Newt huff and start to drag him down the hallway again.

They made it outside without being stopped by anyone, as there were few people in the hallway at that time. Minho was already waiting outside with Teresa, who was practically hanging off his arm.

Newt dropped Thomas' hand when they reached the other two; for some reason, it almost made Thomas sad.

Minho smiled at them, throwing his arm around Newt and ruffling his hair. "Ready to go? We gotta get a dick in this kid so he'll stop being so cranky all the time."

Newt pulled out of his grasp, scowling and shoving the buff boy. "Shut the fuck up, Minho."

"Wait? You're gay?!" Thomas blurted out, feeling pure shock take over.

Newt rolled his eyes, and Teresa snorted out a laugh.

"Do you see what the asshole is wearing?" Minho asked, pulling up Newt's hoodie to show that skimpy shirt again. "Thomas, please name one straight boy who would wear that shit?"

"You, Minho." Teresa scoffed, pulling at the buff boy's tight shirt.

"Bi isn't the same thing as straight dumb bitch." Minho pursed his lips at her, to which Teresa stuck her tongue out in retaliation.

Thomas suddenly felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Newt shoved his hoodie back down, scowling at Minho. "Can we just go, please? I'm done talking about my bloody preferences."

Minho mock saluted Newt. "You got it, captain."

Newt audibly groaned. "Someone please fucking kill me.”

The bar was not anything like Thomas expected. It wasn't loud with booming music, there weren't disco lights or a dance floor, and there wasn't even one naked dancer in sight.

It was dark in there, but the ceiling lights gave off a warm enough glow that it was possible to see. The bar table was long and made of dark wood with black stools pushed in next to it. The place wasn't even that crowded; there were groups huddled around the circular tables, but there couldn't have been more than fifty people there.

As soon as they walked in the door, Newt stripped off his hoodie and left. Thomas spotted him later, sitting up on the table with a boy between his legs, their lips pressed so tightly together.

Minho was a free floater. He sometimes flirted with lone stragglers at the bar or drank by himself, while other times he talked to Thomas or disappeared for long periods.

The weirdest part was Teresa. She wouldn't leave his side. She was constantly touching him or leaning on him. Thomas kept downing glasses to try and focus on something other than the girl. At some point, she practically shifted onto his lap, sitting right on his thigh. Thomas didn't want to push her off, but it was weird, and he didn't like what was happening.

Thomas' gaze flicked to Newt again. He was still perched on the bar, his shirt massively riding up to the point where his entire stomach was exposed. The bartender was a tall, dark guy with thick arms and warm brown eyes. After serving a round of drinks, he would go back over to where Newt was, holding his thin waist in his big hands and kissing the air out of his lungs. Newt smiled when he saw him, he looked so genuinely happy it shocked Thomas while also making something in his stomach tighten.

Newt actually laughed when the boy kissed under his ear and ran his hand down his thigh. Thomas had never seen Newt that way before. He looked carefree and happy, and the way he looked at the bartender was something to envy.

"They're cute, aren't they?"

Thomas snapped out of his daze, shaking his head slightly."Uh, what?"

"Newt and Alby, they're cute."

"Oh, right, yeah, they are."

Teresa huffed out a laugh, leaning back more against Thomas' body. He held back the urge to groan.

Thomas squinted when he watched Alby throw Newt over his shoulder and carry him to the back room.

"And that is why Newt comes here." Teresa snickered as Thomas looked down at her.

"Why do you guys always come with him?"

Teresa shrugged. "It's fun, plus it's nice not to always be at school. Also, if Newt's happy, then we are too."

"You guys are close, huh?" Thomas asked as his chest felt heavy. A strange sense of sadness washed over him as he listened to Teresa talk about her friends. He felt like he'd never fit in, and no one would ever care about him like Teresa and Minho cared about Newt.

Yeah, pretty much." She frowned when she saw Thomas' sad expression. "Okay, no, we're gonna have none of that tonight."

Teresa got up, hopping over the bar surprisingly gracefully.

"I don't think you're supposed to-"

"Shut up, Alby's at his dick appointment, the payment is a few drinks.”

Teresa pushed a tall glass over to him before pouring one for herself and hopping onto the bar. "Hope you can hold your liquor, Tom."

After twenty minutes, Thomas was hammered.

Thomas ran his hand down Minho's face as he rested his head on the buff boy's shoulder.

Minho just shook his head and put his arm around Thomas to keep him from falling. "How much did you have to drink, Tommy?"

Thomas rolled his eyes and poked Minho's face. "Don't be a party pooper."

Minho hesitated for a second before letting out a breath."I think you're pissing Teresa off."

"Me?" Thomas asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything bad."

"I think she's kinda into you, buddy. She's not liking you being all over me."

Thomas pouted and pulled himself more into Minho's side. "You're warm though, like a big blanket bear.'

Minho snorted out a laugh. "You're so fucking drunk."

"No, I'm n-" Thomas suddenly sat up quickly, gasping and clutching his chest.

Minho was up in a second. "Thomas? Thomas, are you okay?"

Thomas felt his throat close, and he fell off his chair. He landed on the floor, knocking over a table in the process.

"Minho," Thomas whined, clutching his chest tighter and squeezing his eyes shut. "'Leave...we need to-to leave." Thomas croaked out.

Minho nodded, effortlessly scooping Thomas up and carrying him out of the bar. As soon as they got outside, Thomas let the scream he was holding back rip through his throat.

Minho put him down in the alley beside the bar. "What's wrong, Thomas? Talk to me."

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, make it stop, Minho, please." Thomas was sobbing, curling in on himself as the black ran through his veins again.

"Dude, what the fuck!" Minho shouted, staring at Thomas' arms.

Thomas screamed again. It sounded so pained and raw that it sent chills through Minho's spine.

"How can I help Thomas?"

Thomas was shaking and sobbing, his chest rushing up and down."I-I don't k-know."

"Is this your power? Is this how it starts?"

Thomas managed a shaky nod before letting out another awful scream as he thrashed on the ground.

“Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop." Thomas pulled at his hair, his chest heaving.

Minho was starting to panic. He fumbled around, trying to think of some way to help.

"Okay, I uh, oh! In training, X said you have to ground yourself, think of something you care about and-"

Thomas screamed again, cutting him off. "Stop!"

"Stop what?!"

"Being scared!" Thomas shouted, wincing loudly when the colour spread down to his legs and over his cheeks. "It makes it worse!”

Minho took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heartbeat. He did the only thing he could think of and took Thomas's hand, squeezing it hard.

"Focus, Thomas, I need you to focus."

Thomas' mind jumped to their interlocking hands; he remembered just hours earlier when Newt was holding his hand. It felt different having his hand held then than it did now. The grey smoke was coming off his hands now. He felt dizzy, but he couldn't leave; he couldn't go to that place in his mind because he wasn't sure if he would be able to get back
out.

Now Thomas was scared, terrified actually. He could feel pain ripping through his arms. The more frightened he felt, the more painful it got to fight.

His mind flicked to Newt again, and the pain subsided. He was squeezing Minho's hand as hard as he could while trying to stop his body from spasming.

"Whatever you're doing is working," Minho said, watching the grey cloud minimize and become more transparent.

Thomas felt his heart rate slowing and his muscles relaxing.

He felt his conscious mind taking back over, but that was short-lived, as his brain decided to flick back to the bad. He saw Newt letting go of his hand and going into Alby's arms. He saw himself kissing Teresa. He saw Minho walking away.

Suddenly, everything became overwhelming, and Thomas's back arched up dramatically.

He could barely hear Minho shouting his name as his eyes rolled back into his head.

He had a brief moment of blackness before wrenching his eyes open, screaming when he was face to face with the eyeless man. Thomas thrust his hands out in front of him, watching the smoke fly from his palms into the man, carving a hole in his chest.

Thomas was thrown back to reality, gasping as he sat up and scrambled across the ground.

"Whoa! Relax, Thomas, relax!" Minho shouted as Thomas stumbled to get up.

Thomas smelled something burning. He looked around him, feeling his stomach drop when he saw a giant smoking hole through the middle of the dumpster.

"I did that."

"No one got hurt," Minho reassured him.

Thomas felt tears prick in his eyes as he spun around and saw Newt standing there with Teresa, his arms crossed over his bare chest. His hair was a mess, and he had hickies lining his neck. The thing that stood out most, however, was the look of pure anger on his face.

“Yeah, he sure is fucking X-Men material, isn't he?" Newt spat as he frowned harder.

Thomas watched as the blonde boy stormed away, slamming the front door of the bar with much more force than necessary.

Thomas felt sick. He just felt like his body was turned inside out, but all that physical pain was nothing compared to the sting Newt's words carried.

Thomas took in the shaken look on Minho's face and the scared one on Teresa's.

Suddenly, the mutant name Newt gave him made perfect sense to him, because yeah, Thomas was a living fucking nightmare.

Chapter Text

Thomas didn't see Newt for a couple of days. Obviously, he was really good at not being found when he didn't want to, so Thomas didn't even try to look for him — perks of being literally invisible.

He couldn't tell if the three were mad at him or not. He hadn't really seen them, and for some reason, it made him feel lonely.

It wasn't until a week later that Thomas ran into Newt, literally ran into him. He was walking down the hall, going to his room after breakfast, when Newt appeared directly in front of him, which of course caused Thomas to let out a very manly scream and drop his bagel.

Thomas didn't even have time to say anything before Newt was grabbing his wrist and dragging him down the hall. Newt didn't stop pulling him till they got to the big tree in the courtyard.

Newt pushed him down and sat next to him.

"I-" Thomas started, Newt cut him off instantly.

“Don't say anything right now."

Thomas kept his mouth closed, looking at the blonde boy. His heart was racing. Newt kinda freaked him out.

"I'm only doing this because Teresa said I have to." Newt took a deep breath and faced Thomas. "I don't hate you, well, I kinda do, but it's not like that." Newt's shoulders sagged, and he pulled at his hair.

"My parents and little sister were killed when I was eight. I got taken in by Xavier not too long after. I mean, yeah, I give them all major attitude, but they know I love them. Dad loved the X-Men and told me stories about how they were amazing heroes who protected people like us. Meeting the mutants was surreal, like everything I looked up to and aspired to be was standing right in front of me. I trained so hard, like insanely hard, I pulled all-nighters in the room, perfecting my control over my abilities. I got good and strong, and by the time I was twelve, I was one of them."

Vewt let out a sad laugh, shaking his head slightly. "It was bloody awesome, I had a suit and everything. Have you ever been a part of a team, Tommy? It's such a nice feeling. The first time I left the school on a mission, we went to this organization's meeting place, and they were experimenting on mutants. It was somewhat like Trask's business, where he was creating those big robots to kill. You know what, you get the point. Long story short, it was the place that the guys who killed my parents came from. I freaked out, almost blew the mission."

Newt paused for a moment before letting out a breath. "I killed a lot of people that day, Tommy. I knew they were bad people, but it messes you up. You can understand, yeah? I got taken off the team, well, not taken, I was kicked off. I snuck into that cab the night we picked you up because I overheard Hank and X talking about what a great asset you'd be to the team. I don't hate you, Tommy. I'm jealous of you."

Thomas didn't know what to say. He was honestly dumbfounded. Out of everything Newt could have said, that was definitely not what he was expecting to come out of the blonde boy's mouth.

"I don't know what to say." Thomas finally admitted it, feeling embarrassed.

Newt huffed out a laugh. "Of course you bloody don't."

"No! I don't know, I really, really thought you hated me. We could start over?"

Newt chewed on his lip. "This doesn't mean we're like best friends."

“Of course."

“I’m still not gonna be nice to you all the time."

"I don't expect you to."

"And you still can't come into my room." Newt had a slight smirk on his face, which made Thomas laugh.

"Noted.”

Newt stood up then, looking down at Thomas. "I'll see you around then, yeah?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, I'll see ya."

Newt turned around before disappearing completely. Thomas had no idea where he was going, but for the first time since he'd arrived at the school almost a month ago, everything felt okay.

"We can go tomorrow if you don't want to do it today."

"What?" Thomas asked the black haired girl as he turned around.

Honestly, he was only half listening to the girl. His mind was too busy spinning through his and Newt's conversation yesterday. Newt hadn't spoken to him since then. He really wanted to see him, to see how different it would be between them, if it would be different at all.

"Lunch. At the lake?" Teresa waved her hand in front of his face. "Are you even listening to me, Tom?"

Thomas shook his head, trying to banish his thoughts of Newt. "Yeah, I am, sorry. Lunch by the lake sounds good. We can do it today."

"Okay, I'll meet you out there at noon. That's alright?"

Thomas nodded, not really processing what he was agreeing to.

"Okay, I'll see you around." Teresa smiled at him sweetly before turning around and walking the other way down the hallway.

Thomas blinked a few times, still feeling scatterbrained.

He was halfway to his room when a hand grabbed his arm, making him scream and jump a foot in the air.

None other than Newt appeared in front of him, laughing hysterically and wiping his eyes. " Bloody hell, that gets better every time."

Thomas scowled, wrenching his arm away and rubbing where Newt's fingers were tightly closed around it. His skin felt tingly and weird, and he wanted it to stop.

"It's not funny, Newt. Would you quit scaring me like that?"

Newt just rolled his eyes as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "Stop being such a baby, Tommy."

"Did you want something, or are you just here to scare me shitless?”

Newt smirked, leaning against the wall, which somehow made him look a hundred times cooler.

"Minho wanted to know if you wanted to come with us this afternoon? We're sneaking out to this awesome place. It's super cheap and they have the best fri-"

"Fuck!" Thomas cussed loudly, making Newt stop mid-sentence.

"What?"

“I can't."

What do you mean you can't?" Newt looked at him, confused. "Got other plans or something? Tommy, I hate to break it to ya, but we're your only friends."

Thomas exhaled loudly. He wasn't even too sure why he was so upset over not being able to go with Newt and Minho. Perhaps he felt it was easier to hang out with them than with Teresa. She was a little weird at times and just wasn't as fun to be around.

"I promised Teresa we'd have lunch."

Newt raised his eyebrows. "You and Teresa?"

Thomas nodded, frowning slightly. "She asked me literally not even five minutes ago."

Newt squinted his eyes, not looking too happy. "Well, aren't you popular?"

Thomas inferred that Newt wasn't the type of person who was accustomed to being told no often.

“I can still come on Friday."

Newt waved his hand in his face, cutting him off. "Don't worry about it, Tommy. Have fun with your girlfriend."

And just like that, he was gone again, seemingly vanishing into thin air.

Thomas's chest felt weird, as if the air had been sucked out of it. He felt as empty as the hallway now was with Newt gone.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Teresa asked, suddenly throwing down her fork. "You're acting really weird."

"No, I'm not." Thomas felt his cheeks heat up.

"Yes, you are! What's wrong with you, Tom? Are you like nervous or something?"' Teresa crossed her arms over her chest. She almost looked satisfied, which made Thomas want to leave.

Thomas ran his hand through his hair, suddenly feeling like shit. "What? No. I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

Teresa's expression softened. "Wanna talk about it?"

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know if you can help.

She gave him a soft smile and put a hand on his knee. "I can try."

Thomas scooted over, so her hand fell off. It bothered him whenever she was touching him. "It's just, I think Newt's mad at me again. I don't know what I did this time! I thought we were okay, but it just seems like he hates me." Thomas sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I wanna be friends with you guys, but he's so confusing."

Something changed in Teresa's face; she almost looked angry. "Why do you care so much about Newt?”

That question took him aback. Why did he care about Newt? He was sorta an asshole. He was about to open his mouth when he remembered the time Newt helped him clean his room and the times when Newt would scare him and laugh so hard there would be tears in his eyes. He remembered yesterday, when Newt apologized, he remembered the sympathy he felt that tugged on his heartstrings.

"Because Newt and I are the same."

Teresa scoffed. "You two are nothing alike."

"We are though. You wouldn't understand it."

"Why? Because I'm not a mutant?" Teresa pulled her lips down into a stern frown. "I don't get feelings or hard times?"
Now Thomas was starting to get angry. "You don't understand losing everyone because of who you are! You don't understand that, Teresa, that everyone looks at you and treats you differently because of something you can't control. You don't understand what it's like to be alone."

She was quiet for a moment before standing up quickly and grabbing her half-finished lunch. "If you care that much about Newt, why don't you go eat with him instead!"

“But he's mad at me for eating with yo-" Thomas stopped himself. Why even bother? He stood himself up, leaving his lunch where it lay. He'd deal with it later; right now, he really just wanted to go to his room.

Everything was just weird that day, or at least the way everyone was acting was strange. Thomas wanted to sit in his room for a while or try to nap without blowing up the school.

He was about halfway across the lawn when he saw Hank walking toward him. He internally groaned as the man made his way over, stopping to let him catch up.

"Are you busy, Thomas?"

He shook his head, following the man who started walking back toward the school, as if he were in some major hurry.

"I'm not busy. Why?"

"Xavier wants to see you. It's urgent."

Thomas' stomach dropped. Did he find out about the dumpster? It was a week ago. He probably would have said something already. Thomas paled as his hands started to sweat. What if he was kicking him out?

"I can tell you're freaking out. It's nothing bad." Hank semi-laughed as he held the door open for Thomas.

“Is it about Teresa?" Thomas blurted out as they walked through the doors.

Hank scrunched his face in confusion."No. Did something happen with her?"

Thomas shrugged, trying to play it off. "Just some small disagreement." Okay, Thomas, now shut your damn mouth.

"Be careful around her," Hank said suddenly.

"What? Why?"

He shrugged slightly, looking back and forth across the hall. "Just be careful."

Thomas was dying to pry more, but Hank stopped then. Of course, they just had to reach their destination at that particular time.

Hank nodded his head, motioning for Thomas to go in.

Thomas muttered a thank you before stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

He was about to say something when he looked up and saw two girls standing behind the professor. 'It's nothing bad.' Yeah, nothing bad, my ass.

"Hello Thomas. How has the first month been at the school?" The professor asked, seemingly unfazed by the girls.

"They've been alright," Thomas said, flicking his eyes between the three. One of the girls was dressed in dark-washed, ripped jeans and a black hoodie. Her hair was light blonde, and her eyes were bright blue, but she had a somewhat dark aura about her.

The other girl had curly brown hair and soft green eyes. She seemed more chill in black pants and a white cotton shirt. She had a hat on her head, but Thomas couldn't tell what the symbol on it was.

The most distinctive part was the blue X that stood out on their thighs. It looked like a sticker on their pants, but from the distance Thomas was at, he couldn't tell.

The professor seemed satisfied with Thomas' answer, nodding his head slightly.

"With all due respect, Professor, why am I here?"

The man smiled at that. Although it wasn't a happy smile, he looked somewhat sad.

"Well, Thomas, as you know, every student here is special in their own way. Over the last month, we've made slight progress with your powers, although not as much as I would have liked. However, we have time for that. Regardless, that's besides the point of this. Do you remember the men who were chasing you the night you were taken into the cab? The ones you killed?"

Thomas nodded, feeling a sting in his chest at that. He didn't mean to kill them; he just couldn't control it.

"I'm not sure if you know much about WCKD. They're an organization of mutant hunters; their only goal is to kill people with special abilities, people like you and me."

"Those men who chased me were a part of WCKD?" Thomas asked, still feeling extremely confused. He remembered seeing the word on their van, but most of that night was a blur.

The professor nodded. "They were. We weren't sure how they were able to track you. We believe they have something that can track random outbursts of power if they're strong enough. Do you know what the X-Men are, Thomas?"

"Yeah, Newt told me about them." Thomas winced as soon as he said he blond boy's name. He shouldn't have brought him up, given what he now knew about Newt's past with the team.

The professor's face darkened at the mention of the invisible boy's name, although he recovered quickly, going back to his neutral but serious expression. "I recently sent the team out to investigate, to see if they could find anything on WICKED's new tech or plans.”

Thomas nodded again, trying to show that he was listening. He wasn't entirely sure where this was all going, but he was desperately trying to make sense of it.

"Thomas, I need you to promise that this stays between us; it's confidential, but we need your help on this."

The pit in Thomas' stomach grew. He felt like he shouldn't know this, shouldn't be told what was going on. He didn't deserve to know. He constantly fucked up and drove people away. Why should he be trusted with any information?

"Thomas, your parents left almost ten years ago, right?"

The brunet boy nodded, biting his lip. This wasn't the time to be getting emotional over this.

"While the team was in the lab, they were able to find and copy hard drives and files. One stood out particularly to me."

The professor slid a file across the table. It was cream coloured with a large red stamp across it spelling out WCKD. Thomas opened it with shaky fingers, not sure what he would find inside.

The first thing he saw was a white envelope, which was torn open with a piece of paper stuffed inside. He pulled it out carefully, terrified he'd rip it.

When it was out, he unfolded the paper, gasping audibly when he saw the words printed across it. His heart pounded in his chest.

"I don't understand. How do they have this?" Thomas stammered as he flipped it over in his hands, then returned to the soft black letters on the page.

Certificate of Birth: Thomas J. Edison

Thomas felt sick as he grabbed the next thing in the folder. As soon as he picked up the paper, a picture was revealed. Thomas dropped everything he was holding when his eyes fell on the image.

It was him. It was him ten years ago, standing between a thin woman with raven hair and warm eyes and a tall, built man with a shaved head and a tattoo across his bicep. Thomas felt a tear roll down his cheek as he picked it up. His first day of first grade, that's when the picture was taken. Thomas was smiling so hard that his eyes were closed and he was clutching his parents' hands so tightly. He had on light-up sneakers and a shirt with a truck on it.

That was the last day he saw them.

"How do they have this? I don't understand?" Thomas looked up at the three mutants, wiping his cheeks hard.

The professor just handed him another sheet of paper. The words Terms of Employment were sprawled across the top, and underneath it were the names Lisa and Patrick Edison.

That's when Thomas knew. Everything clicked in his head, and he felt winded. He wanted to throw up and scream and shut the world out. It couldn't be, they couldn't do something like that. They wouldn't do something like that.

"Thomas, we have reason to believe that your parents are working for WCKD."

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, knowing those words were coming. He felt the tears rushing down his cheeks.

"We also have reason to believe that they are trying to kill you."

Chapter Text

Thomas felt like he was in a different world. He was sitting at a vacant table at Newt's pub, his head in his hands. Newt was all over Alby again, more so than last time. Thomas could have sworn that one of them would soon pass out due to the lack of oxygen they were getting. He
didn't think Newt's mouth had left Alby's once in the past hour. Things were still weird with Newt, but Thomas couldn't be bothered to try to fix it, not now.

Minho was having fun too, drinking and socializing. Teresa still wouldn't speak to him, not since their weird argument. Thomas wasn't even sure why he was at the pub. He surely didn't want to be there. Minho dragged him along. He said he'd been acting weird the past few days. Thomas knew he was right. His parents, the ones who left him as a child, were killing his kind. His parents were murderers. They tried to kill him for fucks sake.

Thomas couldn't get that out of his head, the thought of the people he loved most in the world wanting him dead. The worst part was that he couldn't tell anyone. He wanted to rant, scream, cry, just anything to get the emotions out, but it was "confidential", so he had to keep quiet. He realized that if the other kids knew, they'd probably hate him or be skeptical of him. Everything just sucked, and Thomas was over it. He wanted to be in his room with his head buried under the pillows. He wanted to turn his brain off and stop existing for a little while.

"You should make up with her." A voice suddenly sounded next to Thomas, making him jump. He relaxed when he realized it was just Minho.

“What are you talking about?"

"Teresa, I know you guys had a fight."

"We didn't fight!" Thomas snapped. His patience was thin; he didn't have time to deal with Teresa's moody attitude. He had much bigger things on his plate.

"She told me what happened, that you asked her to lunch, then ignored her the whole time."

That's not even close to what happened! She invited me!" Thomas felt his face get hot. She asked him to lunch. Why would she lie to Minho about that?

The buff boy sat across from Thomas, leaning his elbows on the table. "You know she likes you, right?"

"What?" Thomas asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Teresa. She's got a thing for you. You know that, right?"

"I barely know her!" Thomas snapped.

Minho's expression made it seem like Thomas was getting a warning. Watch it, Teresa is a great girl."

"I bet she is.'" Thomas scoffed as he dropped his head back into his hands.

“Seriously, man, what's up with you lately?" Minho's lips pulled into a stern frown. "You're kinda being an asshole."

"I told you I didn't want to come out tonight, Minho," Thomas replied, keeping his gaze locked on the table top. There was something sticky on it; Thomas assumed it was from a spilled drink.

“That's no excuse to be a complete dick."

"Can I just sit here by myself, please?" Thomas asked, his voice coming out soft. He didn't want to fight right now, or ever; he just wanted something to make him feel better.

Minho was quiet for a second before lightly squeezing Thomas' arm. "You're startin' to worry me, man. What's goin on?"

"Nothing.”

"Is that nothing like nothing is going on, or you're just not gonna tell me what's going on?"

Thomas let out a breath. “I’m fine, Minho. I'm just tired."

"Have you been sleeping?"

Thomas shrugged. "Kinda, Hank gave me this weird thing to put by my bed, it wakes me up when my power starts taking over, it makes it near impossible to get good sleep, but I haven't ruined my room again."

Minho bit his lip, looking at Thomas for a few seconds before sighing. "Wanna make a deal?"

"Depends."

"If you go make up with Teresa, I'll convince Newt to get his hand out of his boy toy's pants, and we can leave."

Leaving sounded like a good idea to Thomas. "Sure."

Minho clasped him on the shoulder before standing up and heading over to Newt, who had his elbows holding him up on the bar table and his legs wrapped tightly around Alby's waist. Thomas wouldn't be surprised if Alby climbed on top of him soon; they looked three seconds away from fucking. Thomas felt his stomach twist, so he got up and headed over to Teresa, who was sitting alone at the bar. Thomas slid into a seat next to her, smiling softly.

"Hey"

She looked at him, taking a slow sip of her drink before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Hi.”

"So uh, I'm coming to the conclusion that I'm considered an asshole, huh?"

Teresa laughed at that. "Kinda."

"In my defence, I didn't know you were coming onto me."

Teresa looked taken aback by that. "How'd you figure that out?"

Thomas shrugged, messing up his hair. "Put two and two together." Thomas found it slightly disturbing how easy it was for him to lie to her.

She smiled softly, twirling her hair on her finger. "So how are you gonna make it up to me?"

And that's how Thomas found himself kissing Teresa in the backseat of the car on the way back to the mansion. He also found himself thinking that if this was what kissing was supposed to feel like, he never wanted to do it again.

“Tommy?" The voice sounded so softly in the dark that Thomas almost thought he was imagining it.

He sat upright in his bed quickly; it wasn't like he was sleeping anyway. He scanned the room, squinting his eyes to try to adjust to the dark. Nothing was there which really made Thomas think he was imagining things.

"Uh...hello?" Thomas said to what seemed like nothing.

Suddenly, Newt appeared in the middle of the room, making Thomas yelp and jump back, which of course resulted in him falling off the bed.

"Ouch.”

Newt climbed on the bed and peered down at Thomas on the floor. "I'm sorry."

Thomas rubbed his head and sat up on the floor. Newt stretched out his hand to pull the brunet boy up, an offer which Thomas gladly took.

Thomas ignored the weird sparks that shot up his arm at the touch. When he was settled back on the bed, he handed Newt the blanket and shoved his legs back under the comforter.

Thomas looked at the blonde boy who was nervously toying with the fabric in his hands. "So uh, Newt, what exactly are you doing in my room at one in the morning?"

Newt's eyes flicked up to him slightly before going back down to the fabric in his hands. "I knew you wouldn't be asleep, Minho told me about the thing Hank made you."

Thomas picked up the little cube on his nightstand. It really didn't look like much. It was small and black with a glowing blue strip around the middle. Thomas didn't even really understand how it worked, but it stopped him from burning the curtains, so that was a plus.

"My sleep cockblocker." Thomas gave Newt a lopsided smile and handed it to him.

Newt looked it once over before putting it on the bed next to him and looking back at Thomas. "I can't sleep, and I know you know what that's like, so I'm here."

Thomas put the cube back in its rightful spot before sitting up more and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Okay, is there any reason why you can't sleep? I'm guessing your body doesn't go crazy and murder people with weird smoky black energy due to its ability to feed off fear."

Newt's lips pulled up slightly at that. “I can safely say that is not the reason for my inability to sleep."

Thomas felt himself smiling too. It was the first time Newt and him were talking since their weird fight in the hallway, but everything felt like it was back to normal.

"Alright then, it's gotta be another reason."

"Thanks, Tommy. You're so smart." Newt rolled his eyes, but shifted closer to Thomas on the bed.

"Is something on your mind?" Thomas asked, ignoring Newt's spite. Newt was rude all the time, so Thomas stopped taking it personally.

"Kinda."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Newt shrugged. "I don't know."

Thomas' tone softened as he spoke again, "Well, if you want to, you can talk to me, alright?"

Newt nodded, looking blankly for a few moments. "If I say something, can you not make me elaborate? And you have to promise not to feel bad."

Thomas nodded. "Okay, yeah. I promise."

"It's about my parents. I get nightmares sometimes, yeah? About what happened to them. They've been worse since you got here, and I know it's not your fault you can't control your power, but..." Newt huffed out a laugh as he tugged on his hair. "...you just give me so many reasons to hate you, but it's so hard to hate you because you're so nice."

Thomas frowned. He did feel bad. He didn't mean to make Newt's life worse. "I can move rooms.”

“No, Tommy, you're not moving rooms."

"Did you really expect me not to feel bad?"

"You told me I could talk to you!"

"I didn't know it would be about me ruining your life!"

Newt rolled his eyes. "Please, get over yourself, you didn't ruin my life."

Thomas pouted again. He couldn't help feeling awful; he felt like he'd done nothing but ruin things since he got to the stupid school.

“Tommy, stop, it's bloody fine."

"I think being in here might make it worse, I'm kinda a beacon for scary shit."

Newt looked at him almost shyly. "Yeah, but I don't want to be alone.”

Thomas finally got what he was implying, and it made his eyes widen. “You want to sleep in here?"

Thomas could still tell that Newt's cheeks were red despite how dark it was. "Way to make me feel stupid, Tommy."

Thomas winced. "No, I didn't mean it like that, it's just, you know, I'm not the best sleeper. I know I have the cube, but I don't want to accidentally kill you."

"Oh, please, Tommy, you couldn't kill me even if you tried."

Thomas relaxed slightly. If Newt wasn't scared, then why should he be?

"I'll take the floor," Thomas said as he went to grab his pillow. Newt grabbed his arm, stopping him from thoroughly picking it up.

"This is your room, you're not sleeping on the floor.”

Suddenly, Thomas' stomach flipped, and he stared at Newt for a couple of seconds. "We could both fit up here. I mean, if that's not weird?"

Newt laughed, pushing Thomas over so he could scoot next to him. “You're adorable, Tommy. Have you never had a sleepover before? I used to have them all the time with Minho here when we were younger. Being invisible means you never get caught."

Thomas lifted the blanket for Newt to get under. They both lie on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. Thomas was hyper aware of the blond boy next to him. He could hear his breathing and feel the warmth coming from his body.

"No," Thomas said suddenly, his voice coming out in a whisper.

"What?"

"No, I've never had a sleepover before. Or friends."

Newt turned his head to look at Thomas, a slight frown pulled over his face."Are you kiddin' me, Tommy?"

Thomas shook his head. "Pathetic, right? Never even kissed anyone before Teresa last night."'

Newt was quiet again, looking back up at the ceiling. He was silent for so long that Thomas began to think he'd fallen asleep.

"So you and Teresa, huh?" Newt asked suddenly.

"I guess."

"1 hope you know what you're doin', Tommy," was the last thing Newt said before rolling over so his back was facing Thomas.

Thomas let out a breath. He didn't, though. Thomas really had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

Thomas woke up in a house, not his room in the school, but an actual house. The carpets were a light white colour, and the couches were soft brown. From out the window, Thomas could see snowflakes dropping from the sky. He spun around, surveying the whole room. It was so quiet. Thomas took a hesitant step forward before freezing. He heard something; the doorknob to the front door was wiggling.

Thomas got behind the couch, just barely peering over the top of the cushions. The handle was wiggling crazier now. Thomas' heart started pounding, and his palms were sweating. Suddenly, a huge bang sounded, making Thomas jump and duck behind the couch. After a few moments, he looked back up. His stomach dropped when he saw that the door was blown out.

Thomas hesitantly stood up, clamping his hands over his mouth when he saw what stood in the doorway.

It was the man, the man with black eyes.

Thomas was running before he could fully process it. He was sprinting to the back of the house, running so fast he almost crashed into a wall.

He knew he could kill him, but he didn't know if he could do it without the professor talking him through it.

Suddenly, Thomas ran into something he couldn't even see and fell backwards onto the floor. He felt hands on his, grabbing him, shaking him. He could hear the man's footsteps; they were getting closer. Thomas started scrambling across the ground, trying to get up, but tripped and stumbled into the wall.

“Shit shit shit shit!" Thomas yelped as he got into the kitchen. He turned around to grab the door and let out an ear-piercing scream when the eyeless man was standing there. Thomas backpedalled quickly, feeling his heart pound and his palms sweat. He stopped when his back hit the kitchen counter. The eyeless man still hadn't moved; he was just standing there.

"Leave me alone!" Thomas screamed, feeling anger burn in his throat. The fear was slowly melting away, anger filling its void.

The man slowly cocked his head, letting out a breath of smoke from where his nose would have been if his face didn't look like a smog cloud with black gouging eyes. His black cloak blew slightly, as if there was a breeze just affecting him.

He lifted his hand slowly, grabbing the helm of his hood and pulling it down slowly. The smoke swirled around, getting brighter before starting to form back into something.

Thomas squinted his eyes, his defence faltering slightly. The smoke swirled faster, twisting into a tight ball.

"Thomas!" a muffled voice sounded from the distance. "Thomas, stop!"

Thomas' head shot up, looking around him. The voice sounded so far away, yet he recognized it immediately as Newt.

"Thomas! Thomas, please stop!" his voice was getting louder, filling up the house.

The smoke stopped swirling, morphing into the shape of a mouth. "Don't you want to know who I am?" The voice came out so low it was almost robotic.

Newt screamed, making Thomas' blood run cold.

The robot voice laughed, slow and cackling.

“Tommy! Tommy, wake up!" Newt screamed, sounding like he was in pain. The nickname shot Thomas into gear, making him break into a sprint toward the stairs where Newt's voice sounded the loudest. He took the stairs two at a time, going up as fast as he could.

"Newt? Newt, are you alright?"

"Wake up, Tommy, please wake up." Newt's voice was loud and pleading. Thomas burst into what he realized was a bedroom after swinging the door open. He froze when he saw Newt sitting on the bed, his hands folded in his lap. When he looked up, he had a clean red hole in his head, the blood dripping out between his eyes and down his nose. He had tears running down his cheeks as he blinked at Thomas.

"They got me, I guess."

Thomas felt his stomach drop; he felt cold and shaky. "Thi-this isn't real. You're fine."

Newt cocked his head slightly. "Wake up then."

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, feeling warm tears on his own cheeks as he thrust his hands out in front of him. He could do this; he could make it go away. The images of the eyeless man, Newt with a bullet in his head and Teresa kissing him swarmed his head, making his skin hot and his chest ache.

Wrong, it was all wrong. He should be back at the school, in his small bed with Newt. Suddenly, Thomas gasped loudly, his eyelids forcing open. The whole room was filling with the grey smoke; he couldn't even see Newt anymore. Thomas coughed before falling to the ground. His entire body felt hot, his eyes were aching, and his vision blurred.

White hot pain shot through his body, making him scream, and his back arch upwards. The room went out in a flash of white, forcing Thomas' eyes closed again.

Everything was silent for a moment, the only sound being a terrible ringing in Thomas' ears.

"Tommy?" a soft voice asked from above him.

Thomas slowly opened his eyes, blinking when he saw he was back in his room. Newt was hovering above him, his skin pale white and a worried expression on his face.

"Tommy, are you okay?"

Thomas bolted upright, grabbing Newt's face softly and running his thumb over his forehead. He let out a soft breath of relief when he realized there were no marks in his smooth skin. There was no bullet hole, no blood.

“Tommy, you're freakin me out. What happened?"

Thomas dropped his hands from the blonde boy and sighed, running his hands through hair which was slick with sweat. "The cube didn't wake me up. Did I hurt you?"

Newt shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. "You pinned me to the wall somehow. I couldn't move, but I could see you. You were thrashing and your veins got all black, kinda like that time in the alley. I kept screaming at you to wake up, but you didn't. Then, finally, you let
out this awful scream, and I could move again, so I ran over here. Don't worry about me, are you bloody okay Tommy?"

Thomas nodded, kicking off the blankets, but he still felt too hot.

"Can I ask you something?"

Newt nodded, meeting Thomas' gaze.

"Newt, what the fuck are you afraid of?"

Chapter Text

Nothing. Newt had told him time and time again that he was afraid of nothing. Thomas was calling absolute bullshit on that. He woke up once more during the night. Newt had his hand on Thomas' bicep, squeezing it and pulling his body against Thomas' side. He kept making little whimpering noises, and, at one point, he squeezed Thomas' arm so hard it hurt.

Afraid of nothing, my ass. Thomas thought as he sat up and threw the covers off him. Newt was gone the second time Thomas woke up. Thomas felt disappointed for some reason, but he decided to ignore it. He still wasn't exactly sure what had happened last night. He had no idea why he freaked out, or why the cube didn't wake him up. Thomas planned on talking to the professor as soon as he got dressed.

Thomas stretched as he stood up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his fists. He yawned as he stumbled to his dresser. He dropped his boxers and shirt and exchanged them for a clean pair with jeans and a hoodie. Thomas definitely felt better, at least better than he was feeling
before he got to the school. He was sleeping more, killing less and sometimes actually having fun.

Thomas combed through his hair with his fingers and popped a piece of gum in his mouth, feeling satisfied with himself as he walked out his room's door.

"Hey Tom!"

Thomas jumped when a voice sounded from next to him. He felt his stomach drop when he realized it was Teresa.

"Oh, hey, Teresa." Thomas smiled sleepily at her.

She returned the look before clearing her throat. "So uh, listen, about last night."

Please say it was a mistake and you regret it. Thomas begged in his head.

"Are we like a thing?"

"A thing?"

She nodded, flipping her shiny black hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, like you don't talk to anyone else, and I don't either. I wanna make sure we're on the same page. Does that sound okay?"

How am I supposed to know what I want us to be right now? If you haven't noticed, Teresa, I kill people in my sleep, maybe I should try to figure that out first. A million thoughts were swarming around Thomas' head in that moment. This was probably the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

Minho's words from the pub flicked through Thomas' mind, then, before he could open his mouth. Teresa was a pretty nice girl, and she wasn't anywhere near ugly either. Saying no to her felt too mean, but honestly, Thomas had no idea how these things worked. He'd never dated before, and Teresa was his first kiss. Maybe you learned to like them more after you became a 'thing'. He remembered how happy Newt looked when he was with Alby in the bar; Thomas really wanted that. He wanted someone to look at him like that; maybe Teresa would.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Really?" Teresa grinned while she reached over and squeezed Thomas' hand.

Thomas nodded, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Why did this all feel so wrong?

"So where are you off to now?" Teresa asked, cocking her head. She left her fingers intertwined with Thomas.: It felt okay, it wasn't the worst thing in the world, he kinda liked holding hands. He liked it when Newt held his hand; he could get used to Teresa doing it.

"I have to talk to the professor."

"Want me to come with you?"

Thomas shook his head. "It's kinda private stuff."

Hurt flashed across her face as she dropped his hand slowly. "Okay, yeah, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me."

Thomas nodded, muttering out a 'thanks' before heading down the hall to the professor's office.

When he got there, he knocked on the door, hoping X was in there.

“Thomas?" a voice asked behind him, making Thomas turn quickly.
"Oh, uh, hi. I was looking for you."

The professor smiled at Thomas from his place in the hall."I figured. Is something the matter?"

Thomas nodded, watching as the professor wheeled toward the door, pushing it open and motioning for Thomas to follow him.

Once he was seated inside, the professor looked at him with an expectant expression, like he was waiting for him to start his story.

"I had another episode last night, it was awful. It's like I knew it wasn't real, but I couldn't wake up. The cube didn't wake me either. I didn't damage anything this time." Thomas trailed off, not wanting to say that Newt was in his room and get the boy in trouble.

X actually looked interested. "What was different about this time than the last?"

After a short second, Thomas decided that there was no upside to lying; the professor could probably tell if he did with his stupid mind-reading abilities. "Newt was there. He told me he was having nightmares about his parents. I'm guessing that's what made my powers stronger. He was terrified. I didn't hurt him, though, only somehow immobilized him."

"Did you see the man again?"

Thomas nodded. "He talked to me, said I could either save Newt or find out who he was."

There was a soft smile on the professor's lips. "And you chose to save your friend?"

Thomas nodded. "I know he's kinda a difficult mess sometimes, but I like him, he's nice, well nicer, to me now."

X let out a stuttered laugh. "You don't have to lecture me on difficult friends, Thomas. I know we do a lot for the people we care about. You made the right choice."

"Do you know how I can make him go away? I've been trying and working on the stuff we practiced, but I still lose control.

The professor was quiet for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was low and chilling. "I think you need to figure this one out on your own, Thomas. Once you get the man to leave and stop fearing yourself, I think you could unlock your true potential."

"But I don't know how to do any of that! I don't even know where to start! I need help- I need your help!" Thomas pleaded, clenching his hands into fists.

"Consider it the next phase of your training because obviously what we've been doing isn't helping."

Thomas sighed, deflating on himself. "Okay."

"It's not easy, Thomas, because if it were easy, everyone would do it. You have to learn to exist as one with your power, not live with the mindset that your power is an accessory. You know, when I couldn't control mine, I made a serum that got rid of it completely? You're special, Thomas. Do things with it, don't hide from it."

Thomas nodded, not feeling any more reassured.

"I think you have a lot to learn from your invisible friend."

Thomas left Xavier's office feeling super frustrated. He didn't get the answers he needed, he had a girlfriend he didn't really want and was somewhat convinced that even the professor didn't know how to help him.

Thomas was so pent up with his own thoughts that he nearly ran straight into someone.

"I'm sorry," Thomas immediately said, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Hey, you’re the kid from the other day, right?" a brown haired girl asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Yeah, the kinda fucked up one." A blonde girl added.

Thomas immediately recognized them from the day in the office, when X told him about his parents.

“I'm not fucked up." Thomas frowned, but there was no bite behind his words. Part of him agreed with her.

The blonde girl rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning.

"She didn't mean that. Thomas, right?" The brunette smiled. Thomas decided that he liked her; she was certainly kinder than blonde. Maybe just all mutants with blonde hair were rude.

"Yeah, Thomas. It's Thomas."

"Well, you can call me El."

Thomas waited for the blonde girl to introduce herself, but she didn't look like she had any intention of doing so.

El nudged her with her shoulder, making her scowl. Thomas almost laughed; they reminded him a bit of Newt and him.

"Kismet, or Kis, whatever." Her arms were still crossed over her black t-shirt, but somehow putting a name to the face made her slightly less intimidating.

"Why were you in there?" El asked, motioning to the office door.

Thomas huffed. For some reason, he wanted to tell them; it felt right. They already knew half the story.

"I can't get myself under control, the power thing I mean. I keep seeing this man... I don't know who he is, and I can't stop seeing him. I think he's like a mix of fears conjured by the students and my own mind, but I just don't know! I'm sick of not knowing!"

"How about the parent stuff? You doing better with that?" Kis asked, almost looking compassionate.

Thomas sighed, his shoulders visibly deflating. "I don't know, I just wish I could talk to them. I don't want to talk to them, ya know, but I want to know why they did it. Why they abandoned me and why they're sending vans of men after me."

The girls shared a look. Kis drew her lip in between her teeth and shrugged.

El took a deep breath before turning back to Thomas."I think you should come with us."

Thomas followed them without thinking twice.

They stopped in what looked like a library. Thomas had never been there because he didn't take classes in the classrooms; the professor decided that it would be more beneficial if he learned how to stop killing people before he started studying. They crowded at a table in the back, their chairs all touching. El sat in the middle, her brown curls falling over her blue shirt.

She pushed a wrinkled paper onto the surface, unfolding it and smoothing it out. "We found this on our last raid. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but now I feel like it might mean something more."

Thomas craned his neck to look at it; he could barely make out a scribbled address and small words under it. Dark Son.

"Dark son? Is that supposed to be me?" Thomas asked, wrinkling his nose.

Kis nodded, putting her elbows on the table. "The address is from an orphanage near the place you were picked up from the night you came here."

"How did they get that?" Thomas asked.

"Probably the same way they get everyone else's, some kind of tech. We found more pages just like these."

Thomas frowned slightly. "What does that have to do with me? You think they're tracking me or something?"

The girls shared a look again, and it was starting to creep Thomas out. "We're starting to think your parents have an ulterior motive.”

“And what would that be?"

"We think they're trying to use you."

"Why would they want to do that? I can't even use my power without fucking everything up."
There was the look again, Thomas felt like he was going to scream.

"We think they're trying to kidnap you. They don't really want you, Thomas. They want this school taken down, and they want to be the ones who do it."

Teresa was pressed against his chest, laughing at something Minho was saying as they ate sandwiches on a blanket in the grass. Newt was strangely quiet, and he was shoving food in his face at an alarming rate.

Thomas shot Minho a questioning look. He just mouthed out "trouble in paradise".

Teresa tilted her head up and smiled at Thomas, stroking his cheek and pecking his lips.

Thomas smiled back, keeping his hand on her hip. It's been a couple of days of being a 'thing' with Teresa, and it stopped being unbearable. She was friendly and cute, and she always brought food to his room when he forgot to eat, which was a bonus. He didn't get those described butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, but he assumed that was a good thing; being with her felt regular.

"So Tommy, burn down any more bedrooms lately?" Minho asked, nickering as he took a bite of his massive sandwich.

"Don't call him that, Minho. That's my thing." Newt rolled his eyes, pulling his lips into a frown.

Minho just huffed and flicked a tomato slice at the blonde boy, who scowled and ate it. "What's up your ass today, Newt?”

Newt ignored him, going back to eating quietly.

Thomas watched him carefully. Newt didn't even look mad; he just seemed upset.

"How did your meeting with the professor go?" Teresa asked, looking back up at him.

Thomas shrugged, internally cursing the fact that she asked that in front of Minho and Newt.

Newt's attention aught at that, he looked up instantly. "Why'd you go and see X?"

Fuckin Teresa.

"Just power-related stuff."

"'Cause he keeps burning down bedrooms." Minho snickered.

Newt didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway and went back down to his food. Everything felt off, as if everyone was oddly uncomfortable, yet no one dared to admit it. It was like walking on eggshells around the people he was supposed to be able to talk easily to.

"Do you want to hang out tonight, Tom?" Teresa asked sweetly.

"Yeah, sure." Thomas agreed distractedly as he watched Newt throw food back into his bag.

Suddenly, he got up and walked off without another word.

Thomas sat up straighter. "Minho, is he okay?"

Minho shrugged. "It's Newt, who knows? If something is really wrong, he'd talk to me about it."

Thomas gently pushed Teresa off him and stood up. "I'm gonna make sure he's okay.”

Then Thomas was running, his sneakers crunching the grass as he sprinted after the blond boy.

"Newt! Hey, Newt!" Thomas grabbed his arm as he caught up to him.

Newt turned around, looking beyond pissed, but his expression softened when he saw it was Thomas.

"What do you want, Tommy?"

"Are you alright?"

'Why wouldn't I be?" Newt snapped, pulling his lips into a frown.

Thomas didn't know how to reply to that. He just looked at the blonde boy with a sad expression. He wanted nothing more than to make him feel better.

Newt sighed and tugged at his hair. It was getting longer, like he hadn't cut it in a while. It looked nice.

"You show up, change everything, give me these awful nightmares. I tried so hard to hate you, Tommy, so hard, but then you had to be all stupid and nice." Newt huffed and shook his head. "You just stress me out. You shouldn't have come after me."

"I stress you out?" Thomas asked, sounding confused.

Newt nodded before wiping at his eyes. He wasn't crying, but he looked like he was close.

"Okay, Newt, what's actually wrong?"

"Alby dumped me." Newt blurted out as he blinked a few times, shaking his head as if he was acting ridiculous. "Said I was acting weird and he couldn't vibe with that, whatever the fuck that means."

"I'm sorry, Newt." Thomas frowned, just now dropping the blonde boy's arm and frowning. "When did it happen?”

Newt shrugged. "What does it matter?"

"It matters, Newt. It was obvious that you cared about him."

Newt snorted out a sad-sounding laugh. "Whatever. Love is a sick joke, Thomas."

"I'm serious." Thomas looked him in the eyes. "Are you okay?"

"You don't have to worry about me all the time!" Newt snapped, taking a step back. "I'm not some fragile princess."

"I know," Thomas said, ignoring Newt's change in mood. He was conditioned to handle the boy's bad moods by now. "I never said you were. Plus, I'm pretty sure that would make me the hero in this situation, and we all know you're gonna be the one saving my ass someday, yeah? Definitely not the other way around."

Newt rolled his eyes, a small smile pulling on his lips. "Yeah, you'd be lost without me, Tommy."

"Probably even dead, and my room would still be a disaster. I'd be getting lost in the halls still."

Newt was smiling now. He reached out and lightly shoved Thomas. "You're an idiot."

Thomas lightly grabbed his wrist. "You're the idiot,"

Newt was staring at him with those big brown eyes. For some reason, it made Thomas' stomach feel weird. He felt shaky when Newt was looking at him like that. He instantly dropped Newt's wrist and scratched the back of his neck.

"So yeah, you'll tell me if you're sad again, right?"

Newt rolled his eyes, crossing his arms back over his chest. He looked angry again, but Newt always looked angry, so Thomas didn't know how to take it.

"Sure, Tommy. Your girlfriend doesn't look happy, have fun with her."

"She's not m-" Newt was gone before Thomas could even finish his
sentence.

As soon as he turned around, Teresa was there. "Were you planning on coming back?" Teresa asked, frowning slightly.

"Well, yeah, but Newt was upset."

Teresa sighed. "Have you ever dated anyone before Thomas?"

"Well, not really, but I don't see what that has to do with anything.'

Teresa had her hand on his cheek then, lightly rubbing it. "You can't keep pushing me to the sidelines, okay? You're supposed to tell me stuff so I can help you."

"Oka-"

Teresa cut him off by pressing his lips to his.

Thomas left his eyes open as she kissed him, trying to see where the blond boy stormed off to this time.

Thomas felt bad; he honestly did, but Teresa would always be second to Newt.