Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(A/N: mention of minor drug use)
"Hi, I'm Newt and I have Osteosarcoma." And I'm going to die.
"Hello Newt." People grumbled. Newt rubbed his thigh, wondering if that hurt worse than the ache in his heart. Teresa had managed to convince him to go back to these meetings and honestly it was for the best. He needed to go despite what he felt. Because honestly it was kind of a relief to find some people who were going through what he was going through, though he was sure that this was different.
A part of him wanted to fight this, to go through it all again and see if he would survive. He would do it all again if it were for Thomas. He would do it all for him. But something in the back of his mind told him that if things were different and Thomas wasn't sick then it would be worth it. It would be different and he would fight to survive. But they were both sick, they were both doomed.
He tried not to think that way though, not for Thomas because he was different. He was strong and he would fight and he would survive. Newt on the other hand, was tired. Fighting was hard and he was so tired of doing it over and over again. He craved peace. He wanted to rest.
Because when he died, he would run again. He would get to frolic in meadows and feel the wind on his face and most importantly, he wouldn't hurt anymore. He wouldn't feel that burning in his gut and he wouldn't feel this mind-numbing tiredness that flowed through his mind and his body.
He felt like he was in a daze, walking around and not really experiencing anything, not really living because of the drugs, because of the cancer that threatened to take his life. He just wanted to feel again.
He felt bad, swimming around in his own thoughts as a woman talked about her journey through breast cancer, and even moreso when he realized that he didn't care about her story or her life because his was spiraling down the porcelain toilet toward his utter demise.
"Hey, dude, meeting's over." he looked up and met a completely unbothered face. He seemed angry, not sad like much of the other people who were here.
"Oh, right." he muttered, pushing himself onto his aching legs.
"What's wrong with you?" the boy said, he couldn't have been much older than Newt himself, and if he was being completely honest somewhat attractive. His dark hair and freckled face were definently working for him.
"Oh, the usual." Newt replied, pouring himself a small cup of coffee at the refreshment table. "Just waiting for my impending doom." The boy snorted, picking up a cookie for himself.
"Well, aren't you chipper."
"Sorry."
"What's got you down in the dumps? Besides the bum leg I assume." Newt rolled his eyes, pouring probably an unhealthy amount of creamer in his cup.
"Nothing."
"C'mon, out with it, then." he raised a brow at Newt, leaning on the table.
"Nah, you don't really want to hear it." he took a long drink out of the cup and glanced down at his watch. He figured he should get back to Thomas soon. the good thing about him-well really not so good- was that he was too out of it to realize that something was wrong with Newt.
"Try me." he munched on the cookie, which looked to be at least a couple meetings old since nobody really ate anything when they came, just vented and then left.
"Just relapsed, cancer's back for me and my boyfriend is no better himself. World's going to utter shit right now." the boy laughed and threw his remnants of a cookie in the nearby trash can.
"Yeah, I'd say that's as good as it gets." he stifled a laugh. "You sound like you need a good time." he said, grasping his shoulder. "I'm Gally by the way." he said.
"Newt." he replied, his eyes skeptically going from Gally's hand and back to his eyes.
"Yeah, I know." he laughed and nodded his head to the door. "You ready for that good time?" Newt hesitated but eventually decided to follow,
"So, what are you going on about?" Newt asked, his leg clanging painfully against the tile floors.
"You'll see." Gally quirked a brow at him and Newt stupidly followed him to a newer model grey Chevy Silverado parked in the furthest corner of the lot. As they approached the truck, Gally went around back and let the tailgate down and sat down. "Come on sit." He said, patting the spot next to him and digging his hand deep in his front pocket. Newt hopped up clumsily, almost missing the end of the truck as he did so. Gally laughed, and revealed a plastic bag and a lighter to the blond.
"You smoke?" He asked, pulling the blunt out of the bag and tossing the plastic bag to the head of the truck bed.
"Uh, no I never have." Newt admitted sheepishly. His friends in high school definently had, always offered him some to which he always refused. He was so sure that he would make it somewhere as a runner. Now he wished he would've taken them up on their offer, gone to every party they asked to take him to, got drunk and fucked up and actually lived. He wished he wasn't so full of regret.
Gally lit the end of the blunt, took a few puffs and handed it to Newt, stifling back a cough. He held the blunt between his fingertips and took a few puffs himself. It burnt the back of his throat, like really bad. He coughed so hard he thought he'd lose a lung, and handed it back to Gally. He laughed at Newt, and propped the blunt between his lips and laid back on the bed of the truck.
"So are you going to die?" Gally asked after Newt laid back next to him.
"Yeah, probably." He replied, nudging him to pass it back.
"Dude, that's fucked." He laughed, and Newt did too. He was becoming accustomed to that burning feeling in his throat and it was easier for him to take longer drags.
"You wanna know what's fucked?" Newt laughed, his hands falling to his side as the pain slowly drifted away.
"What?" Gally giggled, his hands combing through his hair as Newt propped himself on his elbow.
"Smoking pot in a church parking lot." Gally laughed again, his back arching against the bed.
"We're getting closer to God, Newt." He laughed, and pulled a second blunt from his pocket and handing it to Newt. He took the partially used on for himself.
"I'm about to get real close to God real soon." He laughed again and flipped back down, ignoring the aching in his head from impact. "My life is fucked." He said, watching the smoke cloud in front of his eyes, whirling and swirling until it disappeared completely into the sky.
"Yeah, shank. I'd say everyone's life on this godforsaken planet is completely fucked."
"I'm going to die soon." He breathed, closing his eyes because he wants to feel completely in the moment. Wanted to relish in the burning in his chest and the feeling that maybe he was getting closer to that feeling of peace he longed for.
"Bro, that's fucked." Newt couldn't help but smile.
"Life is fucked."
A/N: sooo I think that this chapter is fuckin stupid but anyway enjoy 😃
