Flares // Newtmas alternate ending

08 Newt

Newt woke up feeling jittery, and it took him a moment to remember why.

There wasn't much to be excited about in the Safe Haven. Sure, at first, to most people it had been new and interesting. Not being in WCKD's hands, and being someplace where there were trees and wildlife, not covered in endless sand and heat. Newt didn't even know which continent they were on.

But the novelty had certainly worn off. Most everyone seemed bored out of their minds, and dragged themselves around the Village, chatting with their friends to keep busy, or laying in the grass or on the beach looking miserable.

Newt had never really liked it, in the Village. He'd never liked it in the Scorch or Glade, either. It also seemed he hadn't thoroughly enjoyed his time back with his family as well. The place, not the people. But out of the four, that seemed to be the best in his eyes, now especially. He appreciated it more now, after everything, and the places he'd been, the things he'd seen. There, even if he had been stuck in the basement, and had to curl up in the corner with his sister every night, so they'd have less of a chance of being seen, it had been something.

There he'd had a family.

He'd had a mother, a father, and a sister and it had seemed like they'd had nothing. But now Newt knew that it had something. Something he'd never have again, as there was no bringing back the dead, or traveling back in time to appreciate every moment he'd had with them. He'd had a roof over his head that had been better than anything he'd ever known, he wasn't forced into a place he didn't want to be.

When he'd been there, from what he remembered, all he wanted to do was get out and go away, far away where he could be somewhere away from that basement and the Cranks and everything.

Now he knew he didn't want to go far away. The real world sucked. It was full of cranks and sickness and other horrors he couldn't think of again.

Now he knew that where he had been was best for him. His parents had been doing their best to keep him safe.

He was once again forced to stay in the Village, like he had the Glade, the Scorch, and even his childhood home. Therefore, as soon as he'd learned the rules of the Safe Haven, he'd had an instant disliking. Where he wanted to be was away from everything, especially recently when the strange surges of pain had occurred.

Then he remembered why he was excited. He was doing just what he'd wanted, even if only for a short time. He and the others would be sneaking out for the day, to go down the trail Sonya had found. He was getting away from the Village, from the rules, from every reminder and out there where he'd always been forbidden to be.

He sat up in his hammock, nearly tipping it over with his sudden movement. He glanced at the stick leaning against the wall. He decided he was going to leave it there. He'd been fine for years without it, so just because some idiot said he should use it, he wasn't. His leg wasn't the problem, it was as fine as it ever would get. It was his chest wound, and the odd random fits of pain, and he didn't need a ruddy stick for that.

He stood up and headed over towards the door, pushing it open to see the sky. He wanted to know what time of day it was, and since his watch had been utterly destroyed in the past months and the only clocks were in the important people's tents, he had no way to tell the time otherwise.

The sky was lightly dotted with glittering stars, lower was a spill of orange, pink, and purple below the indigo. The sun would be up shortly, and Newt thought it best if they headed out before the others woke up.

He ducked back into the barracks and walked over to the corner, where boxes were stacked with just about anything. He sifted through them until he found two hammers and deemed them good enough to make noise to wake the others up.