Dreams // Newtmas

14. Obsession

"And you're sure he was you friend." Minho said as they jogged around the track.

"Yes Minho, I'm sure." Thomas replied, rolling his eyes. "Now could you please drop it. We still have six more laps to do and I don't want to waste my breath talking about your new obsession with Newt."

"I'm not obsessed." Minho retorted. "And besides, we're the best runners on the team, I don't think you have to worry about running out of breath."

"Still doesn't mean I want to waste it on this."

"Come on man," Minho pleaded. "I have a good reason for asking about him."

"And that would be?"

"Okay so I don't have any real reason." Minho ducked back out of Thomas's range before he could push him. "But you've gotten really close with him and I want to make sure it's not just because you feel bad about killing him."

Of course Minho had to say this right as they were passing Coach Miller, a large man that had played an even larger role in their lives. He raised a questioning eyebrow at them as they passed but said nothing. 

It was the Tuesday of the next week and Thomas and Minho were at the first track practice of the year. Being co-captains was still a given for the two so it wasn't all that important to show up, but Coach Miller was a scary man and they both wanted to stay on his good side. It didn't matter that they were already miles ahead of the other guys on the team (literally), you had to show up if you wanted to get anywhere.

"First of all," Thomas hissed at Minho. "I didn't kill anyone. He died while tying to stab me with a knife as I've told you ten times already. And why does that even matter, you're friends with him too aren't you?"

"Yeah but I'm the one that makes friends with people quickly." Minho said. "Well, if I like them that is. But you're not. You're the quiet intimidating one that watches over to make sure they don't try anything. You never make friends that fast, especially if they're your own age. Never."

"I'm friends with Chuck and I just met him last week."

"Except Chuck is like fourteen and completely adorable. Newt on the other hand, is the same age as us and is so shy we never would have met him if it weren't for him being a target of those dumb shanks on the football team."

Thomas didn't really have an answer for that. In truth, he himself didn't know why he got along with Newt so well but, since he was not going to let Minho win this argument , he opted to stay silent. He knew Minho would break after less than thirty seconds and would hopefully move onto a new topic to fill the emptiness.

Sure enough, Minho began talking again almost immediately. Unfortunately, he seemed to be really fond of the subject.

"But are you sure -"

"Minho, after he died I put a bullet in my head alright." Thomas snapped in an effort to shut him up. 

It certainly had the desired effect, and maybe a little more. Silence fell between the two and Thomas could practically feel the speechlessness radiating off of Minho. When he turned to look at him, he could see it too. Minho's mouth was half open as his brain worked overtime to figure out the correct response to the bombshell Thomas had just dropped. It was because of this that Thomas hadn't told him about the whole incident before. 

"Well that answers that at least." 

//

Minho managed to make it to the end of practice without talking about that particular subject but, of course, that was about as long as he could go. Thomas could practically see the urge to pry more information from him building and building as they showered and changed once the training had finished. 

Practice hadn't been all that hard, it was the first one of the year after all, but Thomas wouldn't have found it hard either way. He didn't play lacrosse or football, running was his thing. And because of that, he trained all year round to keep in the best of shape. The track team had done well in previous years and he intended to keep it that way.

Luckily, or unluckily Thomas couldn't really decide, Minho seemed to feel the same way. The good part was that it meant Thomas was never alone at practices. The bad part was that Thomas was never alone. And Minho could get more than a little annoying when he wanted something. In this case, it was information.

In fairness to Minho, he didn't try to force the topic on Thomas. No, instead he just waited for Thomas to become too uncomfortable by the silence and ask him himself. It was the same tactic he'd used for over nine years at this point and while Thomas was used to it, he was never quite able to keep his mouth shut.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it earlier," Thomas finally relented as he drove Minho home. "but I also didn't want you to be worried and something like that isn't all that reassuring."

"I get it." Minho replied. "But since I'm literally the only person you are even half willing to talk to about those dreams and therefore I am your therapist, and a free one at that, you have to tell me when crazy crap happens."

"Plenty of crazy things happen in those dreams." Thomas retorted, relieved that Minho had taken a light-hearted approach to the situation.

"Well you've never killed yourself before in a dream have you?" Minho asked. "Literally no amount of crazy messed up monsters can compare to that kind of thing and you wanna know why? because only one of those things can happen in the real world. And I'd rather not go anywhere near that if possible."

Thomas sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter. Minho was right, only one of them could actually happen and Minho just wanted to make sure that it didn't. He was a good friend after all, despite the constant nagging and occasional bragging. Thomas was lucky to have him as a friend.

"Look, you can trust me when I say I would never do something like that okay? I don't even know why I did it in the dream in the first place. I might've been friends with Newt sure, but I don't think that warrants such a dramatic reaction, even if he did die."

"Good." Minho replied.

"Good."