Infinite (Newt fanfiction)

Chapter 27

Newt laid in bed, exhausted, and tried not to think. Maybe he could steal a night without any nightmares. What a gift that would be.

But his hope was useless. Dreams flooded his mind and drowned him with their images. Before Isabelle was gone, his dreams used to be of the Maze, Grievers even. But now they were of her, and they were even worse.

*

"Newt can you stay?" Isabelle laid in the hammock and swung back and forth. She was holding onto the back of his shirt with a pouty expression.

"Of course, Love," he said and kissed her forehead. He slipped into the hammock with her and they both laughed at the awkward position they had to be in to not flip it. Her leg was hanging off and Newts arms were curled around her waist, holding her close. Eventually they adjusted enough to be comfy and Newt buried his head in her hair.

"I love you," Newt murmured.

There was no response from Isabelle. Newt sat up a little and turned her over so he could see her face. She had unmoving eyes and her fingers were cold. She wasn't breathing and Newt began to panic.

"Isabelle?" He shook her shoulder and cleared hair out of her eyes. "Isabelle wake up!"

No matter how hard he shook her, she didn't move. "Isabelle please," he sobbed.

There was no one around him, or even in the Glade. He was completely alone with Isabelle's corpse.

Suddenly Isabelle sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes darted to Newt. Her hand shot up and grabbed Newts shirt, pulling him so he was an inch away from her face.

"You did this!" She spat venomously. "You killed me! This is your fault!"

And then she was gone. The hatred faded from her face and she let her hand drop from Newts shirt. It fell over the side of the hammock, lifeless again.

Newt could say or do nothing, just cry. He let out unearthly howls into the empty Glade and his entire body shook.

This was his fault.

*

Newt woke up with shaking hands. This definitely wasn't the worst of his nightmares, but it wasn't delightful either.

He pushed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes tight. "I'm so sorry Isabelle. So bloody sorry."

Somehow Newt had the energy to work, though as always, his mind was on how to escape and how to find her. Where was she? Was she even alive? Newt couldn't bare the thought of living without her.

He was tying off a vine on the gardens arch when Thomas began asking questions. Newt shook his head. He couldn't deal with thinking about the Maze all day so he sent Thomas into the Deadheads to get fertilizer. It should keep him busy for a while, considering the fertilizer was over by the animal dens.

Newt was standing by the vines when his throat constricted a little. He coughed a couple times and cleared his throat, not sure what was going on. If he fell to the ground again, he didn't know how he'd explain himself. He itched at his throat a little, hoping to fool Zart as him having allergies. It worked and Newt tried to contain his coughs.

Suddenly the pressure on his throat relaxed and he started breathing normally. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the ground, unsure what was happening to him. The Creators again? Why were they targeting him? Was he going to end up like Alec?

Newt pushed it aside and swore that if it happened again, he'd go to Minho with it to see if anything else like this had happened. But for now, he'd rather suffer in silence.