𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 {𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

eighteen: the gun

I didn't dare look away. I couldn't.

Everyone else was quick to divert their gaze. Shielding their eyes from the sight. Not wanting to watch someone blow their brains out.

Everyone else besides me and Newt.

I couldn't not look at it. I had to watch the person who put us in here die, even if it was not a pretty sight. I needed to know that they weren't around anymore, almost a peace of mind type of thing.

I still couldn't tear my eyes away as finally; Newt turned his gaze towards me as he watched me stare at the screen. Worry rested on his face as his eyes quickly diverted towards the moving figure. It was Thomas.

He maneuvered his way through the crowd of people, his eyes glued to something ahead of him. It took me a second but then I realised. Her body must be in here. And that is what he sees.

Slowly, he took another step forward, as my head turned in his direction, finally being able to pull my gaze away from the monitor.

And then I saw it. The white lab coat, the blonde hair. The blood.

Newt's words stopped him in his tracks. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Thomas didn't need to turn around to respond, he kept his eyes fixed on the lifeless body before him. She was laid face down, her arms and legs contorted in weird shapes.

"I don't know." He said quietly, before eventually, tearing his eyes from the corpse, and turning back to the group. "Let's get out of here."

A small smile gathered on the boy's face once more, he looked hopeful, happy we made it out. But sadly, it dissipated within seconds.

"No." A rough voice said behind us as collectively we all spun around to face the person who spoke. I didn't even need to look at him to know who it was. It made my heart immediately sink, and I'm sure it did for everyone else, too.

My eyes examined the boy, quickly noticing something was wrong. He looked ill, physically and mentally tired. One thing I didn't expect though; he was holding a gun. The exact gun I saw on the way in here. Shit move on our parts to be honest.

"Gally?" Thomas kept his voice quiet, as he cautiously took a step forward. He didn't get far before Teresa put her arm out in front to stop him. "Don't. He's been stung." She was right, he had been. Badly.

The boy was crying, tears streamed down his cheeks, but he did nothing about it. He just let them fall. Still staring at Thomas, anger filling his face.

He finally spat out some more words, hissing at Thomas in particular. "We can't leave." Although he sounded angry, he looked scared. He was shaking as he continued to not contain the tears, I'm sure, he had been holding onto for a long time.

"We did." Thomas took another step closer, really pushing the limit to how close he should be getting to someone with a gun. "Gally, we're out. We're free."

The boy scoffed in response, keeping his expressions the same, however, changing his tone of voice slightly to sound more frustrated. "Free? You think we're free out there?" Gally pointed to the large bolted doors behind us, using the hand holding the gun to show us where he meant. A few people tensed up at the action, even Chuck, as he took a minuscule step backwards, almost stepping on my foot.

"No. No, there's no escape from this place." Just as he said that, he raised the gun. My eyes widened, not really expecting him to do such a thing. I know he hated Thomas, but there's no way he'd shoot him.

Thomas raised his arms in his defense, trying to demonstrate to the boy that he wasn't going to try anything to make him shoot. "Gally, listen to me. You're not thinking straight. You're not." This time, he didn't take a step forward. It would be too risky.