CHAPTER 63 - Last Chance

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After finding directions to where Vince may be, I head along the corridors of the ship to the helm, where the captain is. I knock quietly on the door, and I hear a voice telling me to come in. I open the door to see a relatively large room, with a steering wheel and all sorts of other equipment. Vince stands by who I assume is the captain, a large, middle-aged man with a dark complexion and a friendly smile. 

"Hey, kid, what's up," Vince greets. "This is Sam."

"Hi, nice to meet you," I smile to Sam, the captain. "Vince, Minho just had an idea... and it's kind of a long story, so I'm just going to skip to the important part. I might be related to Thomas and we might have the same blood type, so..."

Vince blinks, perplexed. "I... what?"

"Yeah, it's a long story. I had a memory, and... I think he was my cousin? And... he wasn't called Thomas, he was Stephen - but, that's not important - and, we might have the same blood type so maybe it could work on Newt? What do you think?" I am almost breathless when I finish speaking, my hands trembling ever so slightly and lips parted in ambitious curiosity as I await an answer.

"Okay..." Vince says slowly, mouth open in confusion. "Yeah, I'm gonna need more context, but your basic premise is... you think that your blood might work on Newt and you wanna try?"

I nod earnestly. "Please. If it works, it could save him. We don't know when Thomas will wake up and Newt's getting... bad."

Vince nods. "Okay. Well. We don't have as many supplies to make the serum as I'd like... Granted, it would be a bit of a gamble, but we could try, and still have enough left for Thomas' blood. Okay." He nods. "I'll meet you in the med wing in half an hour."

"Thank you!" I exclaim, hugging Vince. "Thank you so much, and if it doesn't work I promise I'll stop pestering you about it."

He rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Heard that before. See you in a bit, (y/n)."

I smile again before leaving, already feeling the hope bubbling inside my chest, making my heart pound. This could work. It could actually work. Or, it might not, and we're back to square one...

***

I fumble with my jumper sleeve nervously as Vince checks an unconscious Newt over, examining his arms where his dark veins are beginning to grow further, snaking down to his forearm. I'm sitting on a stool with uneven legs, so every time I anxiously tap my feet, the stool jolts. It, for some reason, is making me even more nervous than seeing Vince bring a needle up to my arm. 

"This will only take a minute," Vince warns as he brings the needle to my skin. I look away before it pierces my flesh, allowing my eyes to gaze over to Minho, who sits beside Newt. He hasn't been given sedative; he is both physically and emotionally exhausted, his body shaking even though he's not awake. I feel a pinch, and then a stinging as the needle reaches my vein, and grimace as I grit my teeth together.

"Do the others know?" Vince ask quietly as he focuses. 

"No," I answer simply, taking a refreshing breath. "Only the people in this room know. I just don't wanna get anyone's hopes up, or make them worry."

"Good." Vince praises. "Only another few seconds."

The painful sensation begins to end as he removes the syringe from my arm, handing me a cold cloth which I subconsciously press over my shoulder as if by instinct. I correct myself before looking to Vince, who is measuring out small glass vials filled with different liquids, preparing the Serum - or whatever it is - for Newt. I begin to tap on my knee as I jitter slightly, waiting impatiently and anxiously. The sound of Vince mixing up the Serum, glass clinking, soothes me ever so slightly as I look over to Newt, resting my eyes on his chest, falling and rising somewhat evenly as his breath rattles. From my peripheral vision I see Vince coming closer to Newt's bedside, just as Minho says slowly, "I think he's waking up." Sure enough, my eyes dart from his chest to his face as Newt's eyelids flicker with the suggestion of consciousness. My heart quickens as his eyes open slightly. They reveal dark, grey irises, amongst blood red veins, swollen unnaturally, angry and thirsty. My heart stills. 

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