Losing Hope

Eleven

Realisation hit me and I took off running after Minho. I only reached him as he slowed down in front of the Homestead. I opened the door for him, throwing him all of the questions that had been popping up in my mind as I ran. What was wrong? Had he been stung? Did they had to run away from a Griever and he was just exhausted?

Minho shushed me as he placed Newt on the bed in the Med-Jack's room. My mind went to Jack for a second, before I shook my head and focused back on Newt, making my way to the other side of the bed.

His eyes were closed, and he was breathing quickly, his chest rising and falling at an alarming, unsteady pace. His forehead was covered in sweat, his hair sticking on his skin. I reached out to him, slightly brushing his hair away from his face and onto the side, my fingertips slightly lingering on his cheek.

I realized what I was doing and quickly looked up at Minho. He was examining Newt's foot with Jeff, and I gasped when I understood why. His foot was twisted in an unnatural and incredibly painful looking position. I turned my attention to Jeff.

"Will we be able to bring it back?" I asked, and he rose an eyebrow at me.

"We?" he questioned, before focusing back on the problem. "Probably not fully. But we can try. Minho, go get me any kind of straight thing, either a piece of wood or a piece of metal, anything that could hold his feet in place," he ordered.

"I'll go, you stay with him," I told Minho, who nodded, looking grateful. I rushed out of the Homestead and ran to the stack of wood that was on the side of the building. I found a few pieces of various length that seemed straight enough, and ran back in.

I handed them to Jeff, who chose the longer and straighter one. "Okay, one of you is going to have to put his foot back into place, the other will have to hold him down while I secure that thing on his leg," he explained, and Minho and I quickly changed places. He placed himself over Newt's midsection, hands on his shoulder to hold him down if he woke up. I moved over next to Jeff, who was nodding.

"Good choice. Okay, on three," he said, and Minho and I both nodded. He counted down and I placed my hands centimeters away from his foot, ready to straighten it up. Jeff already had the bandages and the wooden stick ready. He was about to count down when Clint appeared in the room.

"Finally. Come on, I might need another pair of hands," Jeff said, before quickly explaining the plan to Clint. He would have to hold the wooden piece in place as Jeff would secure it with the bandage. Jeff resumed his countdown.

As I soon as I touched his foot, Newt started screaming. I looked up at him a second, before focusing back on his foot. I managed to get it back in a normal position, but he started kicking his legs, since Minho was holding down his entire upper half. Clint got kicked in the chest and let go of the piece of wood.

"Hold down his legs!" I shouted as Jeff retrieved the stick. Clint threw himself down on Newt's thighs, and I held his foot, leaning on his knee to keep him from moving too much. He kept on screaming and choking out sobs, shouting for us to let go of him. It broke my heart, but I kept my focus on his foot. The quicker that was done, the quicker he'd calm down.

Jeff placed the stick on the side of his leg, then looked at me. I held it in place, one hand under his foot and the other on the wooden piece. Jeff tightly bandaged from his ankle up to about half of his calf, and secured it in place. We realized at the same time that we'd need another piece of wood to put under his foot, and I mentally thanked myself for bringing more than one stick.

Jeff reached down at another, smaller one and placed it under his foot. He secured it with another bandage, wrapping it around his foot then alternating between his foot and ankle to make sure he kept it in a ninety degrees position. Once he was done and we were sure it was secure, he took my place holding down his legs as I walked over to help Minho.

Newt was still screaming, and I realized only then that he was alternating between shouting death threats for us and begging us to let him die. My heart sank a little further as I leaned over him, grabbing his face in both my hands. "Newt. Newt, hey, it's me, it's Beanie," I tried to reason him, be he only moved more. His eyes were filled with tears that were uncontrollably falling down his cheeks and temples. I felt my own eyes filling up with tears as I tried again, this time going for the guilt trip.

"Newt listen to me. If you don't make it through this I won't make it to see a new Greenie," I said, and he calmed down a little, his glare going from me to Minho. His body was still shaking and he was still panting and breathing heavily, but he had stopped screaming and was not trying get us off him anymore. I could feel Minho's eyes on me, but I didn't take my attention off Newt.

"Just... stop... the pain," he panted out, and I nodded, looking behind me at Clint and Jeff, who were both staring at me. I closed my eyes, trying to remember the stack they made me place the day before.

"Blue box, top shelf on the right, I-I put painkillers in there. Just... get the shuking box." I said, and Clint vigorously nodded, eager to get the hell out of the room. I turned back to Newt.

"It's fine, you'll be fine," I said, and he nodded, his breath hitching and his chest raising up in quick paces. Minho had straightened up a bit, since Newt wasn't fighting anymore, and I placed my hand on his chest, trying to soothe him in anyway I could. His hand suddenly gripped mine that was resting on the bed next to his shoulder. I flinched, thinking he was going to yank me away, but he only squeezed my hand. I had a small, sad smile, trying to encourage him.

Clint arrived with the box and I let go of Newt to check through the bottles of pills. I found the one I was looking for, taking out one of the tiny blue pills and grabbing the half-empty glass of water on the homemade bedside table.

I turned to Newt. He instinctively opened his mouth and I put the pill in, before he shakily grabbed the glass and gulped it down. He dropped his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, his hand looking for mine on the bed. I put the glass away and took his hand in both of mine, crouching next to the bed.

After several minutes, his breathing started slowing down and his entire body relaxed. His eyes fluttered before shutting, and his head fell on the side. His grip on my hand loosened. I let out a breath, looking up at Minho. He smiled and nodded, as if silently thanking me. I smiled back at him.

"Go get Alby. Now," he told the Med-Jacks, and both of them ran out of the room. I placed Newt's hand by his side and stood up as Minho slowly made his way around the bed. He put his arm around my shoulders, just like he did when Jack was being buried. I leaned into him, but kept my eyes on Newt.

"You didn't mean what you said, did you?" Minho asked me, and I sighed.

"Not really. I just wanted him to feel something else than anger," I explained, and I felt him nod.

"I'm gonna ignore the fact that you said not really instead of no, and I'm just gonna thank you for saving him," Minho offered, and I shrugged, crossing my arms on my chest.

"Mind telling me what happened?" I asked, and Minho looked down.

"Long story short or you want the very painful explanation?" he asked as if it was no big deal, but I could tell it bugged him. I frowned.

"Long story short?" I ventured, and he nodded.

"You remember what he said when we were holding him down? To let him die?" He asked, and I nodded, frowning but kind of expecting what was coming. Minho let out a breath and stared straight into my eyes. "He tried to kill himself," he stated, and I felt a lump form in my throat. I nodded, looking away from Minho and down at Newt.

Just then, Alby arrived, and Minho took him out of the room to explain everything to him. I told Jeff I was fine with taking care of Newt for the night, and he nodded, telling me to get him or Clint if anything seemed wrong with him. I thanked him for his help and he nodded, walking away.

I looked back at Newt, sitting on the side of the bed. I took his hand back in mine, and shook my head. "You little bastard better survive this," I muttered, and a few tears fell down my cheeks.

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I absolutely love that scene okay bye love yall!

~Laue