hold me close, but not too close~newtmas

Chapter 11: Walking Away From This

PRESENT

Thomas

The Safe Haven

Sickness struck him to his core. Thomas fought the bile rising in his throat and the fogginess clouding his vision. He inhaled a choked breath, stumbling back in the gentle, lapping waves and Minho rushed forwards to meet him. Minho took it as an opportunity to glimpse into the boat and confirm his suspicions.

And he was right; it was Newt, sleeping or unconscious, he couldn't decipher, but the latter seemed more likely.

"Harriet," Gally said without looking at the girl. He held out his spear and Harriet shakily took it from him.

Thomas watched as Gally scooped Newt's lifeless body into his arms. The taller boy strode through the water towards the Safe Haven, supporting the blonde's head which was tilted back and keeping mindful of his arms hanging limply by his side.

It's impossible, Thomas thought. He should be dead – he is dead.

"I watched him die," Thomas said raggedly. "Minho, he was dead."

"I know," Minho whispered hurriedly. He looked away for a brief moment as he worked his jaw to controlled his own tears. "I know he was. I saw him too."

There was a guttural sadness in Minho's eyes, one that Thomas knew was reflected in his own. A wound that had never fully healed was ripped open again, this time harder and taking the stitching with it. The pain of the last six months came crashing down on them, along with the reality of Newt's survival – or, what they knew of it.

As Gally approached land, the group collectively slapped a hand over their mouths, eyes watering with the realisation of who he was carrying. Teresa met him where the waves were pulling away from the sand, extending a hand to push Newt's hair away from his face.

"We need to get him to the clinic," she said. Gally nodded stiffly, not trusting himself to speak in case his emotions betrayed him. Although his face was stern, he was, inside, terrified.

Teresa opened the door for him and ushered him inside, instructing him to place Newt on one of the vacant beds. Gently, Gally lowered the blonde on to one of the make-shift camp beds as Teresa rummaged around for a stethoscope. With quivering hands, she placed it against Newt's chest, listening past her own unsteady breathing for his heartbeat.

"He's alive," she announced, "but his heartbeat is faint." Teresa took Newt's bony wrist between her fingers, "and so is his pulse."

"What's wrong with him?" Gally demanded. Teresa was deep in thought, scanning over Newt's body for some indication of what had happened to him. There were no visible scars, but there were puncture marks trailing down his arms. "God damn it, Teresa! You, out of everyone here, should know what's wrong with him. You were trained by WCKD, surely this is within your level of expertise?"

Teresa sucked in a sharp breath, the jab inflicting a split-second of hurt which showed on her face. At that moment, the clinic door swung open and in walked Bianca with two other women behind her, catching Teresa and Gally off guard.

They took a cautionary step away from each other, the tension between them obvious, and Bianca watched with suspicion. "This is Nadia and Marissa," Bianca introduced the two women that neither Teresa or Gally had met. "They were doctors before the Outbreak. I thought they might be of some assistance."

"What are we dealing with?" Nadia asked, bypassing any form of greeting as she made her way to Newt's side. "Have you identified the cause of his state?"

"I think he's been under sedation for a long period of time," Teresa replied, shifting her attention away from Gally's heated glare. She ran her hand down Newt's bare arms, pointing out the track marks she had discovered. "If you look closely, there are punctures that indicate towards needles and by deduction, I can only assume that he's been sedated."