Eclipse.
The partial, or complete, obscuring, of one celestial body by another.
A temporary or permanent dimming or cutting off of light.
~
Newt told himself he was ready, ready for this, ready to let it all go, when he pulled out the gun. He'd felt rage, rage and hatred when he saw Thomas and he didn't know where it had come from. But then Thomas apologised and it was gone, suddenly melted away, and Newt knew it was the Flare. He collapsed on top of Thomas, who was holding on to him, still holding on to him, despite everything, the weight of his hand grounding Newt. He wanted to hate Thomas, he really did, because all these would have been much easier if Thomas just gave up. Gave up on him, left him, so he wouldn't feel the guilt that creeped its way into his head.
He was selfish then, and maybe he'd been for a long time, but he couldn't do it himself, he couldn't kill himself. He didn't have the courage. He needed someone to do it for him.
Still, when Newt felt the cold metal of the gun pressed to his head, he closed his eyes, because if he didn't, he'd see Thomas' pleading ones. He was already wavering in his stand as it was, but his hand was steady.
"I'll never forget you," Thomas whispered, inches apart. Newt wanted to hope Thomas does forget him, hope Thomas can continue with his life, leave him in the past. But he didn't have to pretend any longer, not then, not ever, so he bites down on a sob and silently wishes Thomas never does.
Their lips met then, and Newt felt frozen, frozen in time and space, frozen in what could have been. He's suddenly hyperaware of everything - his fingers pressing into Thomas' arm, holding on, holding on to the last piece of him. Their lips barely moved but Newt drank in all that was Thomas. He sobbed into the kiss, but he took just as much, and he held on to Thomas with all that's left. He felt all the places they're touching, pressed together, and for a second they felt eternal, they felt forever.
"Do it," the words found their way out before Newt could stop them. "Kill me. Please, Tommy. Please," he whispered into Thomas' mouth. He braced himself for the shot.
...
Newt didn't hear it.
There's a moment, when everything stopped. His eyes snapped open, held Thomas' gaze for a split second longer.
And suddenly, everything was gone.
Everything he'd ever done, everyone he'd ever met.
Gone, in the blink of an eye.
No more troubles, no more deaths. He swore he felt himself smile.
His life didn't flash before his eyes.
Everything around him became white.
He felt himself walking. He wasn't thinking, just walking.
Everything was white.
He saw a girl, standing in the distance. Her hair was long, honey blonde. She seemed familiar. He didn't recognise her.
"Who are you?" He shouted in her direction, but his voice was carried away by the wind.
That's strange, there wasn't any wind.
He started running towards her, but he could never get closer.
"Hello, Newt," she said, sounding like she was right next to him.
"Who are you?" He asked again, this time softer.
"Don't you remember?" Her voice was gentle, with a teasing tone.
Newt paused, what he'd done finally sinking into his mind. His fingers ached where they were pressing into Thomas' skin. He touched his mouth, the feeling of Thomas' lips on his still lingering. And it's gone, all gone, that was the last time they would kiss, the last time they would touch.
He thought about Thomas, about his laughter, his frustrating curiosity and how he'd always stand up, do whatever he wanted. He thought about his blush, his eyes, the way he moved. His lips. How his kisses can be so gentle yet so ferocious in a way that drove Newt absolutely insane. How he'd never see him again.
Then he thought about Minho, the longest friend he'd had, his braveness and sass and the fire that burned inside him. He was there for him, in his toughest times, and he'd never cry or show any weakness but Newt knew he cared, he cared about all of them.
He remembered the Glade, and the Gladers, and Alby. He remembered the simple life they led inside it, before they found a world so large they couldn't fathom. He remembered when he first arrived, and how he'd grown over these years, how they'd all grown.
"No," he said. "I don't."
"Oh," she said, and suddenly, suddenly he could catch up to her. She had a small frown on her face, and she looked... she looked like him.
And just as suddenly, something in his mind clicked. It's like he uncovered a treasure chest, and years, a decade of memories flooded into his brain. He couldn't breathe for a second, was too overwhelmed, but when he could, he said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Ash?"
She smiled.
"You're my sister. You're- you're Ash. It's really you." She nodded.
"Tell me everything, Newt."
And so he did.
His voice broke several times, and he left out certain details, but he told his story as best as he could. There are gaps in his memory, especially during the years in WICKED, but she didn't mind. And when he finished, there are fresh tears welling up in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He barely made out the last words, "and I let him kill me."
She hugged him then, tight and warm and for a second he felt like he was young again, playing in the backyard or chasing Ash around the house. "So, tell me about you. What have you been up to while I was out and about saving the world? How's mom? Dad?" He said, and smiled, because that's what they were doing, weren't they? No matter that they didn't really know what to do half the time, they were strong, and they were doing the right thing. They'll make it, Newt told himself, they'll save everyone.
But then Ash started talking animatedly and Newt forgot, temporarily, and lost himself in her dialogue.
He learned that WICKED captured almost all of the immunes after they escaped, desperate to find the cure. She was one of them. Newt grimaced; at least she wouldn't turn into a Crank like him.
~
There was a moment when Thomas was so sure he'd done it, he'd killed Newt, and took himself with him. He'd closed his eyes, waited for the bang that would leave his ears ringing for days with the weight, the unforgettable weight of guilt. But then nothing came, save for a soft click almost too quiet to be heard behind the thumping of his heart, and he opened his eyes.
He pressed the trigger again.
Nothing.
~
When Ash finished, he opened his mouth to ask questions, say something perhaps, but she shushed him.
"You're not dead, Newt," she said, "at least not yet."
~
A/N: Wellllll it's been a long time since I've updated and I've spent my time watching Supernatural and Doctor Who (which my friend made me watch but it's really good so I'll continue). I swear I'm way too emotionally attached to fictional characters because I'm pretty sure I've cried more because of them than actual real life stuff. Speaking of which, I just watched the Season 1 finale of Doctor Who and damn it was heartbreaking.
QOTC: Do you cry because of movies/books/tv shows?
AOTC: What are you talking about, it's just fandom in my eye
sniffs
Anyways I hope you liked this! I tried to find some symbolic name for Newt's sister but I kind of failed. Whoops. But please give it a vote if you liked it and comment your feedback! Time to watch crack videos to cheer myself up, yippeee
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Silver Lining (Newtmas)
Fanfiction(NOTE: CONTAINS SPOILERS) Thomas had always stared at Newt behind the screens of WICKED. When Newt was sent up, he gave up all hope of ever seeing him again. As things got worse, however, Thomas was tasked to go up to the Glade himself. But every cl...
