Pyscho {Newtmas AU} (on hold)

Chapter 2

He sprinted out of sight.

Thomas remained glued to the alley's surface as he watched Newt run out of his view. He couldn't bring himself to follow the blonde, mostly out of fear. But he also respected his privacy, and didn't want to look like a stalker trying to pursue his victim.

So Thomas just watched. He had no idea that someone like Newt could make him feel like this. His insides have flipped, his skin was covered in goosebumps, and he had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Newt's small frame.

Thomas shook his head rapidly. Stop. He thought. You met him five minutes ago and he was carrying a loaded gun. Don't get attached.

And yet, he still did. He grew more and more attached to the dirty blonde with every passing minute.

He didn't even notice that police men had walked up to him and had started asking questions. The faint sound of sirens and voices came back to him, and he snapped out of his daze as he looked up at the officers. Both were male, wearing all black uniforms with glints of silver and gold from their badges. One had sunglasses covering his eyes, and he was the one speaking to Thomas.

"Sir? Sir? Are you okay?" "He looks shaken up there, Carl." "Hush Jonah I need to hear him talk!"

Thomas looked at the officer named Carl. "Y-Yeah," he stuttered. "I-I'm okay."

Both officers frowned, clearly not believing Thomas's words. They looked at his tattered clothes, tousled hair, and fragile body structure. They studied his timid demeanor, and they shared a quick glance before Carl continued to speak.

"You're not okay, son. Why are you out here at this time of night when a psycho killer is on the loose?"

Thomas was dreading that question. He didn't want to have to tell the officers that he had run away from his arguing parents. Sure he had left for a good reason: his dad threw a vase at him, but he still felt embarrassed to admit such a stupid and wimpy problem. His cheeks had tinted red, and he was grateful that it was too dark for the two officers to see. He took a deep breath.

"I-I uh, I didn't know there w-was a psycho killer o-on the l-loose. I-i'm just l-lost is all."

The other officer, Jonah, looked at Thomas with great pity. "Sorry, kiddo, that must be hard to handle. We can take you back to your home. What's your name?" "T-Thomas. And I-I don't wanna go h-home."

The two men looked at each other with the same perplexed expression. Carl then spoke, "Well, Thomas, why don't you wanna go back home?" Thomas grew nervous, and his body began to slightly shake. He was obviously scared of these two people of such high authority, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. But he couldn't back out now.

"M-my parents. T-they were fighting. M-my dad, threw a vase a-at me. I-I ran away and now I-I'm lost."

Jonah's eyes widened with fear and worry. Thomas concluded that this officer clearly has a soft spot for young teenagers. Or at least 17 year-olds such as himself. "Did he hurt you? Are you cut anywhere? Why are you're clothes so tattered and torn?"

Thomas wasn't prepared for the sudden burst of questions and he froze. He was becoming overwhelmed with the entire situation, and was on the verge of a breakdown. Carl stepped closer to Thomas, shooting the other officer a scornful look. His face softened as he turned back to the now shaking brunette.

"Hey, relax kid. You don't have to answer all that. We just need you to answer one question and we'll be out of you hair. Is that okay?" Thomas nodded, arms folded tightly across his chest to keep himself from breaking down.

Jonah began to protest, but Carl cut him off. "Did you see a boy about your age run through here? He has blonde hair, is pretty short, and goes by the name of Newton Sangster."

Thomas's eyes widened with realization. The officers were looking for Newt. He must be the psycho killer they were talking about. Psycho killer? Great. Thomas thought. Out of all the people he could have met in his life that he found interest in it had to be a sociopath. He pondered telling the truth to the officers, and after few minutes of deep thought he came to a conclusion.

"S-sorry, mister. I haven't seen anyone run through here all night. M-maybe he went d-downtown to the edge of the c-city. Probably toward B-beacon Hills."

The officers looked at each other as if what Thomas said was the most obvious conclusion to their problem, and that they were too stupid to think of it themselves. "That is some thinking, Thomas, ever think about joining law enforcement?" Jonah said. Thomas gave a small smile at his praise. "N-no sir, b-but that's what my b-brother does."

Thomas mentally scolded himself for still being so nervous that he stuttered. He wanted to talk normally, but he knew that he could never bring himself to be that confident. The two officers nodded. "Well, think about it some then," Carl said. "Thanks for the help, kiddo, we'll just leave you be. Stay safe." Thomas mumbled a quiet thank you, and watched with great curiosity as the officers walked back to their vehicle and drove away.

As soon as they were out of sight Thomas collapsed. He began to breathe heavily, his back slamming into the alley wall as he fell. His eyes stung with tears, his vision blurry. He didn't know what had triggered his panic attack, but he assumed that it was from the pressure of speaking to the officers. The forming tears burned Thomas's skin as they fell down his cheeks. He couldn't speak. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe.

His panic attack wouldn't subside, and after a few minutes of pain and suffering he laid his head on the cold cobblestone of the alleyway and his eyes shut. He fell unconscious.

What Thomas hadn't realized was that after the sirens had faded into the dark night, Newt had returned to the alley. He had heard rapid breathing and hid. Out of curiosity he had emerged once Thomas had passed out, and he made his way to the limp body of the brunette boy. He kneeled next to Thomas, and looked him over.

Newt had not realized how handsome Thomas truly was. He had a chiseled jawline, soft looking dark hair, and as he moved his hand over Thomas's cheek, he felt how soft his skin was. Newt also noticed the line of abs through the holes of Thomas's shirt, and he felt himself blushing. This boy was so innocent, lost, scared, and most of all unaware of how bad Newt could be. However, instead of taking advantage of the limp boy, he hoisted Thomas on to his shoulder, and carefully pulled him out of the alley.

He carried the young boy toward a small shed not far from where they were now. He pulled Thomas inside and shut the door behind him. Inside the shed there was a small bed with a table located next to it. On the table was a lamp that Newt switched on. Newt placed his gun inside the drawer of the table, and laid Thomas on the bed. He pulled the covers over the brunette boy, and switched of the light as he laid down on the hard wooden floor next to the bed.

Newt had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, but something about Thomas made Newt feel tingly inside. He wanted to take care of Thomas, protect him, make him feel at home. But most of all, he wanted a partner in crime.

Newt grinned wickedly as he fell asleep. He wanted to make Thomas like him. Sociopathic, cruel, evil.

He wanted to make him a killer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hey guys! Sorry for the slow update I was in Washington D.C. for school. This is sort of a filler I guess because I can't think of what to write yet, but I hope you like it! XOXO