Emotionless »« Newt

NINETEEN

It's bright outside. Newt's sadness hits Leandra like a train, his guilt, and she frowns before slowly heading over to where he's sitting at the edge of the building, legs dangling off precariously. She goes to sit beside him, although keeping her legs folded – there's no way she's going to risk falling off.

"Hey." Her voice is soft and she turns to look at Newt, gentle. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." Five seconds pass, effortlessly slow, then he sighs. "You can tell I'm lying, can't you." It's not a question, but a statement.

"Yeah."

A whole minute passes this time. Leandra scratches at her arm, over her cut, when Newt suddenly reaches out and lets his fingers rest over hers. She stares at them for a moment, then looks up to see Newt looking at her. "I need to tell you something," he rushes out before she gets to say a word. "Something... important."

She gives him an odd look. "Okay..."

Newt hesitates, then slowly holds his arm out, slowly and carefully pulling his sleeve up, and that's when she realises why her arm's been so itchy. Because veins are rising to the surface to his skin. Because his skin cells are becoming discoloured and dying. Because she was right all along, and that the Flare is airborne, and he doesn't have long before it's infected his entire body.

No wonder he's been struggling with his fluctuating emotions recently, she realises. No wonder he occasionally fiddles about with his sleeve. No wonder he found the need to try to distance himself from the others, because he was hiding a big secret from them, it bubbling up before exploding.

It takes a second to process in Leandra's mind, but when it does, she scrambles to her feet and jumps back in shock. Tears prick at her eyes immediately, and it's like the world finally saw her worst nightmare and decided she hadn't been through enough yet. That she has to suffer more, in the only way left.

Newt's quick to get to his feet after her, guilt in his eyes as he watches the conflict play out on her face.

Her breaths speed up, searching for words and struggling for breath, till she finally chokes out, "But you can't." He doesn't say anything at first, but the devastation is too much for him. "You can't become one of them."

"Leandra–"

"No, I mean it! You... You can't!" She seems heartbroken, grief-stricken, and it makes Newt feel all the more worse, and therefore affects her, too. "Newt, you... I've seen enough Cranks in my life, okay? All... All my tests, those weren't like yours! They weren't stupid simulations and removing blood! I... They had Cranks locked up. Not in the compound, but different bases. It's why I was always going on trips. And you know how I react when I'm near them!

"Since I was five, they just... they take me to the Cranks, and every time, I get a little closer. They look for changes in my brain through the chip they implanted in the back of my neck. In the end, I would be just inches away from them, waiting for the impact when they'd tear my skin, feeling all the pain and emptiness and hate they did. And what it was like in their minds... you can't be one of those. Newt, you can't."

"It's not something I can control," he snaps, eyes going dark, but he seems to get a hold of himself and sighs. "Listen... I'm so sorry, love. I am, for what you went through. What WICKED made you do. But... this? It doesn't mean anything."

"How could you say that?!"

"I'm trying not to get angry–"

"I don't care about anger, Newt! Not when you've got that... that virus in you! That's going to take away your life!"