The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Seventeen: While I Was Sleeping

I sit on my hammock, huffing a sigh as I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, the sleeves of my baggy t-shirt resting off of my shoulders. Watching the others file in to go to bed, I anxiously rub the palms of my hands along my pants, tapping my foot.
"Hey," Newt says as he limps to his hammock beside mine.
Glancing up at him, I force a casual smile. "Hi.."
He sits down on his hammock with a sigh, peeling off his jacket and laying it neatly underneath him. "What were you up to the past two hours?" He asks, adjusting his bandanna that is tied around his right wrist.
"I was going through supplies. Keeping a numerical check of what we're currently at in resources and weaponry for Vince." I say, which is fifty percent true. I'm just failing to mention the fact that I was packing some supplies for myself for tonight. "And you?"
"Helping the new arrivals settle down." Newt says simply.
It takes everything in my power not to give Newt a scowl for lying. "Yeah?"
He nods in response.
We don't speak for a few moments.
"So..." I mumble, clearing my throat. "About Minho..."
Newt, taking off his boots, frowns slightly. "I'd rather not talk about that right now... If you don't mind..."
"Oh... Sorry."
"It's alright. It's just too hard to talk about it."
Oh, really? Or is it just too hard to act like you're not planning on leaving me here without any warning whatsoever?
I nod, biting my lip to keep myself from making some kind of snark remark.
Lying back in his hammock with his arms behind his head, Newt stares up at the ceiling. "(y/n)?"
"Hm?"
"If... If Sonya and Aris were in Minho's place... What would you have done?"
I lift a brow. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it?"
"I don't, but I do need to know."
I furrow my brows, tilting my head to the side. "Why?"
"I just... I don't know." He says.
He's a terrible liar because he's definitely searching for justification for what he's about to do tonight.
"Well, I don't know, exactly." I say, sighing as I look down at the ground, swinging my legs. "I guess I would have caused more havoc than Thomas did when Vince denied a second mission."
Newt shifts his brown eyes to me as I lie back in my own hammock, curling up on my side. "Yeah?" He asks.
I nod. "Yeah."
He averts his eyes back to the ceiling, pondering on it. I can see the gears turning in his head.
Vince quietly walks into the shelter. "Alright, everyone. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." He announces. "Rest up so that we can begin the preparations to leave for the Safe Haven at dawn. Once we get things rolling, we might be able to leave in two days." With that, he shuts off the lights, walking to his hammock.
And how do Thomas, Newt, and Fry expect to return to the Right Arm? The likelihood of Vince staying here in wait is slim to nothing. This is all the more reasoning for me to go with them because there is no way I'm going to the Safe Haven without the people that got me here in the first place. I can't leave anymore people behind. Not again.
I let out a long sigh, resting my head on my hands as I ease into the hammock. "Goodnight, Newt..." I whisper.
There's a long stretch of silence before Newt says in a nearly inaudible voice, "Goodnight, (y/n)."
• • •
Forty five minutes drag on, and I force myself to stare at the moon through the small window of the shelter to keep myself from caving in and falling asleep.
However, I'm instantly energized the second the gentle sounds of soft breathing of the slumbering individuals around me is broken by the sound of physical movement from three spots down.
There's the sound of scurrying about, and then I hear someone's feet make contact with the steel flooring, quickly striding in my direction.
Closing my eyes and doing my best to act like I'm sleeping, I listen for the figure to pass before peeking with one eye to watch Thomas leave the room, obviously to get some more supplies before sneaking out.
The silence returns for a mere thirty seconds before it is broken again.
"Newt?" A voice whispers.
Fry.
I can hear Newt slowly sit up in his hammock. "That's our cue. Where have you got our packs?" He asks as he slips his jacket and boots back on quickly and quietly.
"The storage shelter. I hid them amidst the boxes to the left of the back entrance."
"Good that. Let's get going." Newt whispers.
I close my eyes as I hear Fry fumble with his boots and coat, and the two of them get to their feet, quickly striding past.
However, just as I open one eye to get a peek, I spot Newt stopping in his tracks in the doorway. I quickly close my eyes as he turns to look back at me.
"Newt?" Fry whispers from outside.
There's a pause.
"Give me a second." Newt whispers. "I'll meet you there."
I hear Frypan's footsteps quickly rush off into the sand, growing distant within seconds.
The sound of Newt slowly limping to my hammock causes my heart to pound against my chest, and it feels strangely arduous to keep my eyes shut and breathing steady.
Suddenly, his hand gently brushes my hair behind my ear. "I know I had promised you that I would never leave your side back when we were in the Scorch," he whispers, "and I know you didn't hear that because you had just fallen asleep after your night terrors– Well, it's not like you can even bloody hear me now. You're asleep just like back then. But– I just– You–" Newt sighs heavily in frustration, gently stroking my hair as he crouches down so that he is level with me. "I just want you to know that I'm going to get Minho, but I promise that I'm going to be back in a few days. I swear it. Just...make sure Vince waits for us. I know you'll fight for us. You always do." There's a long pause, as if Newt is debating on saying something else. "And... when I come back... I'm going to tell you exactly what I've been afraid of saying to you for the past six months."
It takes everything in my power for me to keep my breaths at a steady rhythm, anxiety rising at a rapid pace.
Newt pulls his hand away, and the room falls silent, once again. Only the sound of my racing heart and the gentle breaths of the sleeping Right Arm members can be heard in the night.
The silence remains.
A minute passes.
Two.
Newt must've left. He had to have left. His steps were just so quiet that I didn't hear them.
However, just before I decide to open my eyes, I feel soft, warm lips gently press against my forehead, planting a tenderhearted kiss for a mere moment before breaking away, but the kiss itself feels as if it lingers on my skin. A strange yearning tugs on my heart, as if it's pleading for the kiss to never leave, and I feel my face grow hot with blush as butterflies flutter rapidly throughout my stomach, yet, at that instant, I feel completely at peace, but a kind of peace that I have never truly felt before.
I desperately search through my heart to find the right words to describe the feeling, and only one flickers in my brain: Home.
What a strange word to come to mind?
"I swear." Newt's soft, accented voice whispers as he gently brushes my hair back once more, and, with that, he gets to his feet and rushes out onto the beach.
I finally open my eyes, slowly lifting my head and staring out the door to the moonlit beach, my lips parted as if words are trying to escape, yet they don't know how to.
Now I definitely can't let Newt leave me here. Not after that.
I quickly sit up, kicking my legs over the side of my hammock and scooping up my jacket. Moving with anxious speed, I slide on the coat and grasp my combat boots.
Slipping them on and tying the laces as quickly as possible, I quietly get to my feet, rushing to the back corner of the room where Vince snores softly in his hammock, his arms folded over his chest while he sleeps. Holding my breath, I cautiously crouch down and crawl underneath his hammock, pushing his supplies and packs out of the way and sliding my backpack out from where I had hid it behind his stuff. If I had hid my backpack under my own hammock, it definitely would have been suspicious to Newt, but Vince always has packs and supplies under his, so no one would notice one extra bag.
I get to my feet, tossing the pack over my shoulder and silently striding through the rows of the sleeping allies.
I need to hurry before Newt and Fry return.
Walking at a brisk place as silently as possible, I sneak down the steel steps in the dark, making my way towards the car that I had overheard Newt and Fry talking about using to drive once they catch Thomas in the act of sneaking out.
Just as I approach the jeep, looking inside the driver's window curiously, I hear faint, soft chuckling from the stairway behind. Eyes widening, I quickly rush to the passenger side of the car to hide, the side opposite of the stairway.
As I sink down to the ground on the hidden side of the vehicle, I look underneath to watch two pairs of feet step down from the steel stairs, barely catching sight of them in the moonlight.
"How stupid does Tommy think we are? All he does is what he's told not to do. It's predictable now." Newt says in a low voice.
I can hear Frypan snickering. "We say don't go into the Maze, he goes into the Maze; you say not to draw attention to himself, he does exactly that."
"And now Vince has told him that we're not getting Minho, so, obviously, Tommy's next bloody move is to go get Minho."
"Exactly." Fry chuckles.
I watch one of the pairs of boots approach the driver's door, and I hear the car door open up, causing the lights inside to illuminate the inner part of the vehicle. The soft thud of a pack being tossed across to the passenger seat follows. "I think it'd be funny if I sit in the car and go unnoticed until you open the door." Fry. Fry's the one by the door.
Newt giggles almost childishly. "Sounds good. Here, hand me your other pack; I'll throw our stuff in the back."
"Alright, just don't knock over the gasoline back there."
My eyes widen as I watch Newt's feet limp towards the back end of the car.
I'm going to get caught if I stay here.
In the rush of panic, I quickly slide through the sand, hiding directly underneath the car as I attempt to steady my breathing.
I hear Newt open the back door and two packs get tossed into the back before the door shuts with a loud slam.
There's a few moments of silence, and, for a split second, I feel flushed with panic, assuming Newt might have heard me.
However, that's not the case. "Tommy should be here any minute. Go ahead and climb in." Newt whispers.
I watch Fry's boots disappear as he steps into the driver's side. "Got it."
After turning on his heels, Newt halts. "Oh, and one more thing..." He mumbles to Frypan.
"Yeah?"
"Don't forget: I get shotgun."
Seriously? He's trying to catch Thomas in the act of leaving them, and his main concern is getting shotgun?
"Got it." Fry chuckles, closing the car door.
Newt lets out a soft sigh, quietly limping towards the small desk in the corner and leaning against it.
Now, we wait.
• • •
After about fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes of waiting in the cool sand underneath the car, the sound of faint, but quick, footsteps echo through the stairway. Another pair of boots rush down the steel steps and into the sand, making their way to the jeep.
"Where do you think you're going, then?" Newt says with his thick accent, his tone on the same level of sass as Minho's, and he flicks on the lamplight, illuminating the dim room with golden light.
I can see Thomas's boots stop in their tracks. "Newt," he mumbles, turning on his heels. "I-"
"Don't be a bloody twat about it." He says, limping towards Thomas. "I'm already in."
Thomas's pack swings in Newt's direction as the blonde boy takes it, limping towards the car with it.
"No, Newt, you're not going with me this time." Thomas protests. "It's too dangerous-"
"Wouldn't that just give us more of a reason to believe you need help?" Newt says.
"'Us'...?" Thomas hesitantly asks.
Newt casually opens the driver's door to reveal Frypan, just as planned, before handing Thomas's pack off to Fry and turning back to Thomas, leaning back against the side of the vehicle with folded arms.
"You're prediction was ten minutes off, Newt. It's 1:10am." Fry says.
"Close enough." Newt shrugs, the two of them chuckling softly.
The silence that follows makes it hard for me to not giggle, too, because I can only imagine Thomas's face right now.
"Newt, Fry, I can't let you come with me-"
"We started this together. We may as well end it that way, too." Newt says softly.
"Guys," Thomas sighs, "I'm serious. You can't-"
"And who says we can't? You?" Newt retorts lightheartedly. "You never listen to us, so why should we listen to you? Besides, we want to have a bloody part in saving Minho, too. You can't keep all of the adventures to yourself."
Thomas, sighing heavily, doesn't respond for a moment, trying to conjure up a proper response. All he gets out is, "Fine..."
"Good that." By the sound of Newt's voice, I can tell that his face just lit up. "Let's get going then, shall we?"
Wait, that's my cue! Shuck!
Before Thomas can walk to the jeep and open the second row door, I silently, yet quickly, scramble out from under the passenger side of the car, dusting myself off and tossing my pack over my shoulder as I stride around the back end of the jeep to the driver's side of the car. "And where do you think you're going?" I ask, stepping into the dim, golden beams of the weak lighting, folding my arms as I put my weight on one leg sassily.
Startled, the three boys turn to look at me, faces falling in panic.
I can't help but laugh.
"(y/n)," Newt says, "what on earth are you doing up?" The blood drains from his face, obviously wondering if I was awake for his message.
I lift a brow, a small smirk tugging on the left corner of my mouth. "Do you really think I'm stupid?" I retort, scoffing lightly. "When has Thomas ever listened to authority? And when have you ever let one of your friends charge into danger alone? And when would Frypan's heart of gold ever approve of you two venturing off to save Minho without him?" I ask. "You two really need to have private discussions in more private settings. You didn't really think you were the only two outside in the sand? We're on a beach, boys. People like the beach."
Chuckling lightly from the driver's seat in disbelief, Fry looks to Newt. "She's figured us out."
"Of course I did." I say simply, grinning proudly. "I've been with you three for over six months; I think I would know each of you decently, at least."
Newt frowns. "Do you really think that I'm going to let you dive into bloody danger with us three?"
"And do you really think you can tell me what to do?" I ask, snark.
Before Newt can say anything else, I stride to the back door of the car and climb into the back, closing the door behind me.
Fry, chuckling to himself, shakes his head. "Well, looks like we have no other choice."
While Newt simply gapes, still taken aback, Thomas slides over the hood of the car. "Shotgun." He calls before climbing inside.
Offended, Newt turns around to look at Thomas through the window, jaw basically to the floor.
Giggling, I open the side door, leaning out. "Come on, Newt, we've got to go."
• • •
I slide my pack to the floor of the vehicle, crossing my legs comfortably as I look out the window while Fry drives along the winding dirt road, the camp shrinking to a speck in the distance now.
When I turn to look out the front window, I notice Newt staring at me out of the corner of my eye, and I avert my eyes to him. "What?"
"I really wish you hadn't come with us..." He mumbles, frowning.
I crease my brows together. "Well, I really wish you had not attempted to leave me behind. You didn't even say goodbye." I mutter.
He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "I just want you safe..."
"You said to trust you, and I do. That includes trusting you with my life, Newt."
He clenches his jaw, obviously wanting to argue, but deciding against it with a slight nod, eyes slowly trailing to the floor. "(y/n)...?"
"Hm?"
"Were you," he pauses, struggling to get the sentence out, "awake that entire time?"
By the look in his eyes, and after hearing all that he had said to me while believing I was asleep, I honestly think the last thing he'd want to hear is that I was awake for everything, so, for now, I decide to keep it to myself. "No, I had woken up when I heard you walking down the steps into the sand to go who-knows-where with Fry." I say. "I wanted to be somewhat-rested before we left camp."
His brown eyes soften, and he sighs in relief, nodding. "Good that."
I smile weakly, returning to silence as I stare out my side window again, examining the night sky in peace.
"Speaking of rest," Fry speaks up, "I really don't think zero, nor forty five, minutes is enough rest for what we're about to do, so I advise you all to get some shuteye while you can."
Thomas furrows his brows together. "What about you?"
"When I'm tired, someone else can take over, but, honestly, I'm wide awake with excitement right now."
Hesitantly nodding, Thomas sinks back into his seat, folding his arms. "Alright. Wake me as soon as you're tired." He says, closing his eyes.
"Got it."
I adjust the way I'm sitting to be in a more comfortable position, leaning my head against the window as I close my eyes, but the bumpy road only causes my head to get knocked back and forth. Sighing, I sit upright, laying my head back on the seat itself and closing my eyes; however, every time I begin to drift off, my head rolls forward.
Newt chuckles softly. "Can't get a comfortable position?"
I shake my head.
"Me neither." He says.
"It's shucking annoying." I mutter.
He nods in response, fumbling with his hands. "We could, uh– I mean, you could rest your head on my shoulder if that's comfortable? That is, if you'd want to?"
Looking to Newt, I blush slightly, managing to let out a light laugh. "As long as you rest against me, too."
Newt nods. "Alright."
I adjust my position, leaning towards Newt and resting my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I sigh contently.
"Comfortable?" Newt asks.
I nod slightly. "Mmhm."
Sighing softly in relief with a light laugh, Newt gently rests his head atop of mine, smiling happily.
I ease up comfortably and drift off to sleep within seconds.
• • •
I jump with a start when the car itself jolts suddenly, knocking my head into Newt's and causing us both to sit upright, rubbing our heads.
"Oops! Sorry! That was a big bump!" Fry exclaims, though chuckling.
Thomas, already awake, looks back at us. "It's about time you two woke up."
I squint one eye in pain, looking out the side window to the bright sun shining over the vast, desert mountains. "How long were we out...?"
"Six hours. It's seven thirty." Fry says, looking back at me through his rear view mirror.
Rubbing his eyes, Newt yawns. "Oh..." he mumbles. "Have you been driving this entire time, Fry?"
"No. When I made a pit-stop, Thomas took over for a few. When we stopped to fill the gas tank about thirty minutes ago was when I took over again."
Thomas nods in confirmation.
I stretch my arms as much as I can. "It's been like this the entire drive?"
"Desert wasteland? Yes." Fry chuckles.
Thomas, pulling his map out of his pack, sits upright. Flatting out the map on his lap, he trails his fingers down the road. "According to the map, we've got a cave about two, maybe three, hours away? Some kind of health checkpoint."
I furrow my brows. "Health checkpoint? What do you mean?"
"Probably some kind of spot to check for people who are infected." Thomas mumbles, frowning.
I see Newt fidget slightly out of the corner of my eye.
"Yeah, but what are the chances of it still functioning?" Fry mumbles worriedly.
Thomas gulps, nodding. "Exactly..."
A long stretch of anxious silence follows.
"Well," Fry says, clearing his throat, "we've still got a long way to go. Anyone want to share a story?" He asks. "It's what Minho would be making us do."
Licking his lips, Newt ponders for a moment before turning to me. "I have a question for (y/n)."
Furrowing my brows, I shift my eyes to Newt. "What is it?"
"You were the first in command, but you were also a Runner in your Maze. How exactly does that work?"
I tilt my head to the side. "I was the leader, and I ran in the Maze..." I mumble flatly.
"No, I know. I mean... Isn't that risky? What if you had died?"
"Susan was second in charge for a reason." I shrug simply.
"But shouldn't you be in the Glade with everyone else?" Thomas asks, looking back at me.
"The Heart," I correct, "and no. I figured that, if I have the authority to send people out into the Maze, then I should be a Mapper- erm, Runner- myself." I explain. "I didn't think it would be right of me to order girls to risk their lives while I relaxed in safety. I need to set the example, you know?"
Thomas and Newt exchange an unreadable glance before averting their eyes back to me.
"What about Grievers?" Thomas asks.
I distort my face in confusion. "What about them?"
"Did they ever get ahold of your Runners? Aside from when you girls escaped, of course."
I lift a brow. "Do you really think WICKED would give us nice Grievers, or...?"
Face falling, Thomas shakes his head. "No! No, I just- I-"
"I think Tommy means to ask if you had many girls stung." Newt says.
I frown slightly, nodding. "Unfortunately, yes, we had quite a few instances where Mappers got stung, but..." My voice trails off as I think of Annie.
"But what, (y/n)?" Newt asks in concern.
I lift my eyes to his. "The last incident where a girl got stung was...different." I mumble.
Newt draws his brows together. "What do you mean by that?"
"Her name was Annie..." I mumble. "I was in the middle of my route when Harriet and Sonya came around the corner, sprinting frantically. They were calling for me in a panic, so I stopped to see what was wrong. Harriet said she had seen Annie sprint past the end of the corridor she was in, which was definitely not a part of Annie's route. She had said that she was sure Annie was heading back to the Heart. I could already sense what was going on, so the three of us ran back to the Heart as fast as she could, and..." I sigh, running my fingers through my hair, "and we arrived just as Annie was chasing after Rachel, completely ravenous, and she tackled Rachel to the ground, clawing and choking her. I could hear her screaming 'It's your fault! It's your fault!' I never understood what she had meant by that..."
Thomas, eyes widening, looks back at Newt, who clenches his jaw. "Rachel was the Thomas of your Maze, yes?" Newt asks.
Nodding, I give Newt a confused glance. "Yeah, why?"
Newt glances at Thomas, sighing. "Thomas and Teresa worked with WICKED before the Maze."
"Yeah, I know that?" I say, still puzzled.
"(y/n), if Rachel and Aris were your Thomas and Teresa, then that may mean..." His voice trails off, staring at me.
My face falls as it clicks. "You don't think...?"
He and Thomas nod.
"Man..." Fry mumbles. "Good thing Aris is not here to hear that."
I frown, nodding. "Aris and Rachel putting us in a Maze...watching us." I mumble in somewhat disbelief. "I wonder if Thomas's actions got them in the Maze, too, or if they had a problem with sending kids in the Maze just like you did?" I say, looking to Thomas.
He shrugs. "I wouldn't be surprised if I put them in danger, too." He says, sighing heavily.
There's a few seconds of silence, but it's broken by Frypan chuckling.
I distort my face in puzzlement, looking to the driver in confusion.
His laughter rises in volume, now cracking up.
Joining in, Newt starts out snickering before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
Thomas, looking to me in just as much confusion, tilts his head to the side. "How is that funny?"
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-" Newt manages to get out amidst his laughter.
"It's just- you do get us into trouble all the time!" Frypan laughs.
Thomas frowns even more. "And you find that funny?"
Frypan nods rapidly, holding his stomach with one hand. "'Thomas, don't go out into the Maze!'"
"'But I want to, so I'm going to anyways!'" Newt exclaims in his best American accent. "'Oops! I killed a Griever!'"
"'Thomas, you can't escape the Maze! The Glade is our home!'" Frypan mocks someone they must've known in their Maze, scowling dramatically.
"That's a good Gally impersonation! You got his eyebrows!" Newt laughs, which finally gets Thomas to start chuckling softly. "'Watch me! I'm going into the buggin' Maze now!'" Newt exclaims.
I giggle. "'Thomas! You can't go out into the Scorch!'" I join in.
"'Well, too bad. I want to, so I'm going to!'" Newt mocks, giggling childishly.
"Hey, guys, maybe we should hear this Jorge guy out..." Thomas mumbles, laughing softly as he makes fun of himself.
"Now that's the spirit!" Fry exclaims, patting Thomas's back with his free hand.
The remainder of the drive consists of the four of us teasing one another, unable to stop laughing.
Just as Minho would want.