You Expect Me To Carry On? (A Newtmas Fanfic)

Chapter Eight: Announcement

A/N
Thank you everyone who's reading my story :) your comments/support mean the world and i hope i can give yall a frickin brilliant bit of fanfic in return

The following morning, the two boys made sure to rise early, not wanting to be made fun of by anyone accidentally bursting into their tent.

Together, they headed to breakfast, seeing Frypan already up and slicing meat at the chop block.

The day was clear and bright, and for Thomas, he had never felt happier.

Suddenly, he heard Minho's voice from behind him.

"Thomas?!"

Thomas stopped and turned around, a smile ready to greet his friend, but the beach was empty.

Newt was still walking, he didn't seemed to have heard him.

That was weird

Thomas thought, but he brushed it off and ran to catch up with Newt.

They approached Frypan and wished him good morning, him pulling Newt into a fierce hug.

"Minho told me everything you said." he told them, pulling away.

"Aw hell man, it's great to see you."

Newt laughed and slapped his shoulder, before making himself busy, filling pitchers of water and passing Frypan various jars of spices and herbs.

Thomas was in charge of slicing potatoes, and he did so quietly, happy just watching his friends being happy.

He was halfway through his 27th potato when he heard it again.

Minho.

"Thomas? Thomas?! Can you hear me?!"

He started, the half-cut spud flinging off his knife and landing on the floor with a thud.

Neither Frypan nor Newt looked around.

Now definitely spooked, Thomas slowly stopped and picked up the potato, chucking it in the pile of peel he had been compiling for the food bins.

He decided to just ignore it, deciding that it was probably just some dregs of nightmare left over from his sleep, and went back to slicing vegetables.

~

Later, when everyone sat on logs or blankets or rolled up mats, eating friend pork and potatoes from tin plates, Brenda stepped into the centre of the group, accompanied by Vince and Minho.

They looked like they were about to make a speech, and when Brenda began with a mention of Newt- Thomas's heart stopped.

She cleared her throat.

"As I'm sure you all know, our friend and former WCKD subject Newt joined our ranks yesterday."

Newt, who sat next to Thomas on a small foldable camping chair, straightened his back, suddenly alert, eyes fixed on Brenda as she continued.

"Newt's arrival came as a surprise to all of us- as we last saw him dead and infected with a bullet in his skull."

Thomas felt a rush of anger.

How could she be so insensitive?!

"As soon as he arrived at the Haven, we administered the dose of Cure that Thomas salvaged from the Last City.

"However, we ran another blood sample by Aris yesterday evening-"

she nodded at the boy, who was sitting frozen, his eyes trained on his feet.

"and unfortunately-"

Thomas's heart stopped

"Newt's blood still exhibits traces of the Flare Virus."

Total. Uproar.

A ripple of shock spread through the group, and then people were standing up, yelling, screaming, running.

Some of the people who had sat near Thomas and Newt stood and fled, while others shouted at him and Brenda in outrage.

"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!"

"HE'S GONNA KILL US ALL!"

"MY SON! MY SON HE'S NOT IMMUNE!"

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING BRINGING A GODDAMN CRANK HERE?!"

Newt was frozen in shock and terror, trembling, his eyes glassy, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Thomas leapt to his feet.

Shoving his own fear and panic aside, he grabbed his best friend's hand and yanked him up, dragging him away from the raging crowd.

Newt stumbled, but soon caught up with his friend, the two of them running away towards the cliff top.

Soon, they heard two sets of footsteps at pace beside them.

It was Minho and Brenda.

"Dont... stop..." she panted

"Go up to the... to the top."

So, they ran, and they didn't stop until they had clear the steep path and reached the part-time safety of the precipice.

They all came to a stop, Thomas realising with a jolt that he was still clutching Newt's hand.

They boys looked at each other, blushed and dropped their hands to their sides, looking down at their feet.

Minho shot them a look, eyebrows raised, but let it slide without comment.

Brenda was bent double with her hands in her knees, attempting to get her breath back from the steep upward run.

Minho cleared his throat.

"So as all you shanks know now, Newt's infected. Like Brenda said, we ran some blood comparisons, and the good news is, he only really needs one more dosage of cure before he's fully clear."

Thomas sighed, relief flooding his chest.

"So." it was Newt

"That's easy... right?"

Minho looked down.

"It would be... except Thomas was the only one who took some Cure.

To get more... we have to go back."

Newt looked confused.

"What do you mean back?! Back where?!"

Minho opened his mouth, but Thomas knew what was coming.

He looked into Newt's beautiful brown eyes.

"Back to WCKD."