"You should eat."
"Don't bloody want to."
"Aren't you hungry?"
"No."
"But you haven't eaten all day. Come on. Strawberries. They're soft. I chopped them up."
"Strawberries," he repeats.
"Yes," Mr. Thomas says. "Here." He feeds him a spoonful.
Newt frowns, then chews slowly and swallows.
"More?"
He shrugs.
Thomas continues to feed him.
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He picks up the toothbrush and almost immediately drops it. After trying a second time, he is successful at maneuvering it to his mouth, but then he realizes he's not sure what to do with it. Toothbrush. Tooth... brush. But the brushing part eludes him.
Mr. Thomas is sitting in the living room, staring into space. When Newt comes in, the other man gives him a hopeful look, but it fades quickly. "Are you alright, Newt?"
He holds out the toothbrush.
Thomas glances at it. "Do you need help?"
Newt nods.
They go to the bathroom together, where the other man adds a dollop of toothpaste to the brush and slowly raises it to Newt's mouth before starting to move it in a back-and-forth motion. He is gentle and careful. It reminds him of when his own father first helped him learn how to brush his teeth.
He is glad that he has an aquaintance who is every bit as soothing.
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Mr. Thomas is reading out loud.
"Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand / Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd..."
The words are music to his ears, though he's not entirely sure what all of them mean. Nevertheless, he finds himself restless, so he gets up and starts to leave the room.
"Newt?" Mr. Thomas grabs his arm before he can go any further.
"What?"
"I... don't want you wandering off on your own. Just... please." He looks pained.
Sometimes Mr. Thomas acts like a father to him and sometimes he acts like more. It touches and confuses him at the same time. "Okay," he mumbles.
The other man leads him back to the sofa and sits him down before following suit and taking his hand. "D-do you mind?" he asks quickly.
Newt looks down at their intertwined fingers. It reminds him of Tommy. "Not really."
Mr. Thomas closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, his grip tightening for a second, then opens the book with his free hand. "Fare thee well at once! / The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, / And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: / Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me..."
And if he had been more aware, he would have realized that Thomas added the emphasis.
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It is becoming increasingly difficult for him to walk around the house. Every move he makes is accompanied by a tremor in his bones. His limp is especially quite persistent nowadays.
Thomas notices and insists on following him wherever he goes.
He finds it to be very annoying.
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YOU ARE READING
MEMORY • newtmas au
Fanfiction❝ What did they find? ❞ Thomas looks back at him, and there is anguish clearly written on his face. ❝ You have Alzheimer's, Newt. ❞ His breath catches in his throat. Alzheimer's. ❝ There's no cure for that, ❞ he says. ❝ No, ❞ the other whispers, an...
