𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Sewerslide

Chuck weighed me down when I woke up. He had moved from having his arms around to me to practically laying on top of me. His head found my chest a nice pillow for himself. I first tried to untangle myself from him, picking up his sleeping arm and attempting to toss it aside.

"Hey, Chuck." I groaned, trying to slide away from him. "Are you awake? Come on Dude." He stayed stagnant, stretched out, sleeping peacefully.

"Here." A voice I recognized as Newt's hovered over me. He helped turn Chuck over on to the sand next to me. Chuck didn't seem to know the difference, the rosy cheeked boy slept on without disturbance. "Mornin' y/n."

"Greetings and salutations Newton." Heaving my chest up, I took his offered hand, letting him pull me onto my feet. Upon taking a closer look, I discovered tiny discrepancies all around Newt's body.

He was slightly hunched over, which he never did, it was a pride thing I suppose. Eye bags were purple canyons, dipping into his face. What really tipped the scale was his eyes. Whenever I stared into them it was like looking at a lifeless corpse. He must've barely slept.

"Breakfast?" He proposed, nudging his head opposite to our friends. "The others haven't woken yet, it's just me and you." Newt was right. Each person laid with closed eyes, some even curled up into fetal position.

"Breakfast sounds divine." I replied, earning a tired chuckle from him.

"Divine?" He knotted his hand in my hair, messing it up playfully. "Y/n's usin' big words now."

"Shut up Geico Lizard."

"You are so weird." Newt offered his arm out to me, acting all proper to mock me. "Come on then." We shuffled around slumbering bodies, nestling into the sand, soft and gritty against my skin. He pulled a protein bar out of his pocket, snapping it in half to conserve our supply. "Here's your rations Miss Slinthead."

"Ha Ha very funny." My stomach rumbled at the sight of food. The hunger had gotten so bad that I began salivating over the pathetic little food that I did have.

Biting into the bar was like tasting a sliver of heaven. Flavors coated my tongue, melting into taste buds. I guess hunger really was the best seasoning. It always made everything taste better.

"It's bloody amazing, isn't it?"

"Absolutely."

"That's what I figured." Newt made a try at a smile, his lips unwilling to cooperate with him. "Here." He thrust his portion into my hand, his gaze lost in the desert. "Have at it. I'm not even hungry."

"No." I pushed it back into his chest, giving him a stern look. "Even if you aren't, your body's going to need it today." At first I thought he was going to spit back some sort of protest, but instead he surrendered.

"I suppose you're right." His shoulders folded in, He nibbled at his breakfast in small bites. "It's just that I haven't gotten an appetite since Winston- Well you know."

"Yeah." I set a hand on his shoulder, patting it with any comfort I could spare. "It's hard, I know. He was our friend. We loved him. All of us."

Newt's mouth pursed together, he looked off into the distance wistfully. My curiosity burned at the mystery of what in the world he could be thinking about.

"Y/n." He called my name out as if I weren't right next to him. A deadpan look frowned itself across his face.

"Yes?"

"I need to tell you somethin'."

Anxiety began to bubble up when he turned to face me, he nearly frightened me. His eyes were sullen, ghostly, almost gone.

"What?" I pushed against his shoulder, urging him to speak. "Newt, what is it?"

"The night I came out to you, do you remember it?"

"Of course! Why?!" Hissing quietly as to not disturb the others, to keep our conversation discreet.

"Do you remember that earlier that day, after we had our fight? I told you that I had two things to tell you but I only ended up telling you one."

"That's right." I mumbled, memories flooding back to me. "You never told me the second thing. Is that what you want to tell me?"

What was it that troubled him like this? What was the weight he was cursed to carry on his shoulders?

He nodded, biting his lip. His eyes glazed over, welling up. He was quiet, still. Sound whistled in my ears, but it was only the faint rustling of the winds.

"I tried to kill myself once." Newt's voice cracked, croaking out the rest. "But I failed. I didn't do it properly."

It was as if a ghost had whooshed through me, any jovial spirit left in me died. My stomach soured, eyes burning as I held my gaze on him.

"Newt," I uttered softly, not wanting to believe what he had told me. "I'm sorry."

"I ran into the maze, I was a runner before my limp, and I picked a wall and started up it. I was climbin' up the ivy." He raised his hand as if to mime the action but then dropped it. "And I got to the top and I just, let go." I felt terribly sick with sorrow, wondering why Newt would ever do such a thing. "It didn't work. It just broke my leg. Minho found me and carried me back to the maze."

I watched as he tried to force his tears back into himself. Screwing his face up, wiping at it furiously with his ruddy palm.

"Stop." I took possession of his hand, his fingers flexed around needing something to do. Instinctually, I grasped one arm around his torso and pulled him toward me in, allowing him to put his weight on me. "It's okay."

His head slumped onto my shoulder. His muscles went slack, he relaxed, allowing me to cradle him. The story for another time had been told. The one he had mentioned on the first day of meeting. Everything came full circle. I felt a sort of peace about it.

Newt's tears ran free, coursing down his cheeks.