Endure: Newt & Reader Fanfic

19. Lunch

You couldn't sleep. Anger and pain kept you awake. Anger at the boys for putting you in a position like this and for hurting you; and pain from your injuries.

The more you thought about it the more you were sure you'd broken a rib or two. Every breath you took hurt and some spots were too painful to touch. You stare at the cracks in the stone wall and trace them with your finger, careful not to move too much.

The night passes slowly and you finally manage to turn yourself around painfully to face Newt without waking him up. The sleeping boy breathes in and out silently and you smile gently at his peacefulness.

You explore his features, taking in his swooping blond strands of hair that drape over his forehead. His dark eyelashes and soft lips. You wondered how there could be someone so perfect.

After a couple minutes of examining Newts features, your eyes drift shut and you fall into a painless sleep.

***

You're woken up by Newt shifting. He got up and soon you get up after him.

You sit up and immediately remember the night before, and how you'd been kicked around like a rag doll. The pain of it makes you angrier, but as soon as you look at Newt putting on his shoes, your anger fades to almost nothing. Protecting him was worth a little pain.

You try standing up while Newts back was to you, and you wobble. Every movement sends shooting pain through your ribcage and every breath ached. Today wasn't going to be fun.

You finally get the hang of standing and partially walking when Newt turns back to face you. He smiles at you.

"Sleep any better tonight?" he asks genuinely concerned. "No nightmares?"

"No nightmares," you reply with a smile back to him.

"Good," he sighs. He walks up to you and wraps his arms around your waist. The touch sends what feels like daggers through you and you grind your teeth from showing any pain. He presses his lips to you and you kiss him back quickly before pulling away.

"I...need to change," you say and he nods, stepping out of the room quickly to leave you alone. You lock the door and pull your shirt up.

You gasp at the dark marks that cover your ribcage and stomach. Some ribs were a blackish blue and others were just a bright red. You wince as you prod some of the worse looking ones. If they weren't broken, they were definitely cracked. You rip off the rest of your shirt to put on a clean one.

As you meet the Track-Hoes at the Gardens, you realize just how painful this was going to be. You bend down next to Newt and feel the pain ripple through you. Newt notices and steadies your wobbling crouched form. He places a hand against your side to stable you but instead makes it worse and black spots cover your vision. Suddenly you realize he was speaking to you.

"-okay? Love?"

You look at him through hazy eyes and nod. You hear him say something about the Med-jacks and you immediately shake your head.

"No, no I'm fine, Newt. Just tired."

The black spots on your vision clear up slowly and you can see his concerned face better. You give him a reassuring but hopefully tired looking smile to him and he nods slowly.

"Okay but if I get the slightest idea that you're sick, then I'm taking you to Clint and Jeff."

You nod and look back to the ground. You start pulling weeds and Newt does too, keeping a concerned eye on you.

After hours of painful and long work in the Gardens, it's time for lunch. Newt watches you carefully as you stand up and you know he is. You push yourself up how you normally would and you want to fall back down immediately. You let no emotion show on your face as he offers you a hand.

"Alright?" he asks you. You nod and take his hand, both of you now walking over to Frypan.

When you both have food and are sat at a table, you eat slowly, not feeling very talkative. Newt notices but doesn't say anything.

Two boys sit at your table but you don't look up, assuming it's just Minho and Thomas. When they don't greet you like normal, you glance at them.

Your heart stops. Sitting next to you was a boy with a swollen lip and the other had a scrape on his forehead.

These were the boys who attacked you.