And somehow I keep finding myself wrapped up in thoughts of you, just tell me how to untangle myself.
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(A/n: imma start adding song recs in the pics above^^^ pls tell me if you can see it bc if not how embarrassing lmfao)
Thomas was confused. Not the regular type of confused where he didn't know what he felt for Newt or how he was probably gay or bi, or something like that where he may like the same gender. Or maybe he doesn't.
No, he was confused in the way that he didn't know what he was doing here. He didn't know where here was exactly. He knew that his name was Thomas Hood, 17 years old and he was extremely nauseous. The lights on the the ceiling were so familiar to him that somewhere deep in his mind he knew he was in the hospital. He knew that the sweat he felt on his forehead and on his chest was not a good sign and he knew that for once he was devastated to be right.
His head lolled back and forth and he could make out one, no two figures in the room with him. They were blurry blobs of the people they were supposed to be but they were there. Maybe they were his parents, but maybe one of them was Newt, and somehow he wished one of them was Newt. Because he wanted someone to hold his hand, stroke his hair and tell him that yeah he was fine.
Everything was fine.
He wanted someone to tell him he was okay, that he didn't have another tumor, anothertumor in his brain. He was tired of having things in his head that didn't belong there.
"Thomas, can you hear me?" He was vaguely aware of a light being shined in his eyes and he looked away, bringing a hand to his face to shield his eyes.
"Don't," he gasped, though the voice didn't sound like his own. His vision wouldn't clear and he knew that the blob in front of his face was his hand but it didn't look like his hand. It didn't even feel like his hand.
"Tommy, it's okay. It's my mum remember?" but the voice was far away, as if it had been shouted at him from the Grand Canyon while he was standing in New York. He pushed the hand away again and sat up, but that only resulted in multiple hands on his chest pushing him back down on the bed. Someone grabbed his hand and he brought his other one to his face, trying to rub away the bleariness in his vision.
"I can't see!" he cried, his heart rate picking up in his chest as panic set in.
"Tommy, relax, okay?" a blurred blob was directly in front of him now. He knew it was a face, and if his ears were true then the accent told him that it was Newt. He was holding his hand and his elbow on the opposite arm to try and get him to stay in bed.
"Newt?" Thomas asked, his words just a whisper in the wind.
"That's right." he replied, his hand now went to his shoulder and Thomas began to relax and sit back on the bed. "Do you remember what happened?" Newt asked quietly. He could feel his whole body shaking with nerves and fear.
