Chapter Text
Newt couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t know why. Where was he? Who was he? He didn’t know…anything. Only fear, only panic. And somewhere deep below that, coiled tight under his ribs… loss.
Did you lose what won’t return?
Newt had lost everything, even if he still wasn’t sure what "everything" included. He’d surely lost his memories, at least, because people weren’t usually born at the age of fourteen. He didn’t know any details about himself, and yet he knew this fact.
Did you love but never learn?
Newt also knew that the emptiness between his ribs wasn’t just for whatever life he might’ve had before waking up in that cold, dark box. There was a hole in his chest, rough and vaguely person-shaped. The ghost of a smile and a phantom laughter, imaginary arms wrapped around his shoulders and sweater paws drying his tears. It was all there at the very edge of his conscience, but Newt couldn’t remember anything, not clearly.
Newt was very lonely.
The fire’s out but still it burns
Functionally speaking, Newt was dead. He had no memory, no life, no past. He was like a doll come to life, a shell of a person pretending to still be human. He couldn’t even remember what that meant anymore, to be human.
And yet, he was. Still here, wherever here was. For some forsaken reason, he was alive despite it all. Newt was burned out, but somehow still burning.
He was dead, but still alive.
And no one cares, there’s no one there
There were other boys in the Glade, this mysterious place that was supposed to be his home. They had gone through the same thing, but somehow they still didn’t understand. Nobody understood, not really. Or maybe they just didn’t care.
Newt had lost something beyond comprehension. The other boys never saw just how deep that poison cut into Newt’s soul. Because the fire still burned. He still got up every day and pretended to be human.
But Newt was lonely. And no one cared.
Did you find it hard to breathe?
Newt’s chest constricted.
Did you cry so much that you could barely see?
In his head, he was back in the box, alone and in the dark with tears wetting his cheeks.
You’re in the darkness all alone
Newt braced his back against one of the trees in the deadheads. He buried his face in his knees, cutting off all but the tiniest sliver of light as he cried.
And no one cares, there’s no one there
The sun shone gently on his shoulders, but Newt was cold. He was alone.
~*~*~*
But did you see the flares in the sky?
Alby came first.
Newt raised tearstained eyes to find the boy’s outline against the deep, consistently blue sky. Alby smiled down at Newt, a crease of concern showing between his brows.
“You ok there, Greenie?”
Were you blinded by the lights?
Minho followed almost immediately, before Newt even had a chance to respond. The second boy came bounding up behind Alby with his mouth open to say something. When he caught sight of Newt, the question changed.
“What’s up with this shank?”
His words broke through the fragile moment.
Newt snorted, despite himself and despite every other situational factor that told him this should definitely not be funny. Minho seemed somewhat proud of this accomplishment, face breaking into a genuine grin as he caught Newt’s eye. Maybe it was because Newt smiled, too, in that moment, even if his eyes still sparkled with tears and his face was now ten shades of red.
Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?
Did you? Did you?
“Sorry—“ Newt stuttered. “Just…overwhelmed. Confused. Lonely. You get it.”
And somehow, Minho and Alby did.
They both sat down right there in the crumpled leaves, one on either side, and they each took one of Newt’s hands in their own.
Did you see the sparks filled with hope?
Newt was scared. He didn’t want to lose anyone else, not when he didn’t even know who he’d lost before. But here were two real people, trying to be there for him even though they’d just met. Here were two people doing the exact thing that he was; burning when they probably shouldn’t be anymore.
You are not alone
Newt’s chest was still sore, but he thought that this wasn’t quite like the box. His mind was dark, but there was a small light shining through, as much as it stung his eyes to look at it.
‘Cause someone’s out there, sending out flares
Newt didn’t want to be alone anymore.