The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty Two: (y/n) Would Never Do That

{WARNING: The following chapter contains heavily graphic violence. Continue at your own risk.}

Bloodlust. That is what I feel. That is all I feel.
Scrambling out of my bed, I leap to the floor and scurry out of my room, slamming the door open with irrational rage before rushing down the stairs of the hideout in an inhuman manner, on all fours. I scurry to the bottom level, snarling softly, my breaths resembling the sound of purrs from a ravenous beast.
Looking down to my rotting, fleshy arms as I crawl at an unnatural pace, I can see the dark veins bulging from them, black blood flowing through in clumps.
I want to scream for help, warn the others what's become of me, but I feel trapped within my own head, unable to break through to control myself.
My hideous, Flare-controlled body rushes to an open door to the right, hiding along the wall just beside the door frame before sneakily peeking inside, spotting Brenda and Jorge chatting in the room, Brenda sitting on the dresser as Jorge checks her bitten ankle.
'No! No, stop! Stop it right now!' I scream at myself from within my own mind. 'Leave them alone!'
I feel the urge to charge at them building up from deep within the soul of the virus, and my body slowly digs it's claws into the door frame, letting the adrenaline rise to get a rush.
Suddenly, letting out a horrifying shriek, my corpse body lurches out, sprinting on all fours towards the two of them.
Jumping with a start, they look to me with complete terror.
'JORGE, LOOK OUT!' I scream from within my Infected brain.
However, before Jorge can react, I tackle him to the hardwood floor, grasping him by the collar of his coat and slamming him against the ground over and over again, displaying inhuman strength.
Brenda, letting out a scream, quickly scrambles over the bed to get to her pack on the floor on the other side.
My Crank eyes catch her in the act, and, shoving off Jorge, I dive onto the bed, digging my claws into Brenda's ankles and yanking her back to my side before she could reach for her pack. Flipping her onto her back, I straddle her before reaching for her eyes with my nails, but her hands clasp tightly to my wrists before I can do any damage, trying to pry me away.
Snarling and snapping my teeth aggressively as my saliva drips onto her, I manage to grasp her wrists in return, twisting her arms enough for her to cry out in pain, letting go. The instant she releases, I slam her wrists beside her head, pinning her down. The rotting monster that controls my body leans down directly in front of her face, roaring viciously.
"HEY!" Jorge snaps, causing the Crank- my body- to snaps its neck upwards to glare at the man.
Aiming a gun at my head, he says, "If the person we know is in there, give us a sign, or I'll put a bullet in your head!"
Growling, I slowly crawl off of Brenda, making my way to the floor and scurrying out of the room.
Jorge, shooting Brenda a worried look, asks, "Did it bite you?"
Sitting up, Brenda shakes her head, but her face falls. "JORGE, BEHIND YOU!"
While Jorge let his guard down for a mere second, my carcass turned around before it could completely exit the room, and I jump at him from behind, digging my nails into the flesh of his arms and sinking my teeth into the side of his neck, breaking through his skin as he lets out an agonized scream. The metallic taste of warm blood fills the beast's mouth.
Brenda, without hesitation, jumps up behind me and latches onto my waist, screaming in rage as she yanks me back off of her friend, but, with my jaws locked, I manage to tear off a massive chunk of meat and flesh from the side of his neck as she pries me off, throwing me to the ground before grabbing the gun from Jorge, who clasps his hand tightly over his wound, blood flowing through his fingers rapidly as he gasps for air.
"DIE, YOU CRANK!" She shouts, unloading the gun at me.
With quick reflexes, I get to my feet and sprint out of the room, Brenda missing with every shot.
Like a blur, I dash to the door at the opposite end of the main hall, slamming the door open with a loud bang, only to encounter Gally talking with Fry.
They jump with a start, looking to me with wide eyes.
"WHAT THE SHU-" Before Gally can finish, I screech, charging at him and slamming him against  the wall with full force.
"WOAH! WOAH!" Frypan immediately gets a tight grip onto the back of my shirt. "STOP! STOP, THIS ISN'T YOU!" He exclaims, failing to pull me off of Gally.
'I know it's not me! Please, understand that this is not me!' I plead, though the words never escape my lips.
Gally, scrunching up his face in anger, punches me in the face with all of his might, sending a burst of pain in my cheek that I can feel but not control.
That doesn't stop me. The virus forces me to scratch at Gally just as Fry manages to pull me back, and my sharp claws dig into his skin as I scratch frantically like a cat, breaking through Gally's clothes and flesh and drawing blood in long streaks down his chest, causing him to cry out in agony.
Lashing in Fry's hold as he struggles to pull me back, I kick his left kneecap so hard that there's a loud snap, followed by Frypan releasing my rotting body and letting out a blood-curdling scream, collapsing to the ground.
Gally tackles me to the floor now, sitting on top of my chest and drawing back his fists, punching my face over and over and over again, my black, clumping blood splattering everywhere and dripping from his fists.
Although I feel overwhelming pain, the Crank body manages to get a sudden surge of strength, suddenly flipping Gally onto his back and sitting atop of him now.
'NO, STOP! STOP THIS!'
However, the Crank doesn't stop. It digs into Gally's chest, clawing through his flesh and muscles like a dog does in the dirt ground, tearing it apart similarly to how the Cranks at the mall had done with Winston's stomach.
Although he is screaming in horrific pain, Gally manages to grip onto my throat with both hands, squeezing my neck as tightly as possible.
Letting out a choked scream, my hands suddenly reach for his eyes, blood dripping from them, and, panicked, Gally releases my throat and grasps my wrists, stopping me before I could take his sight from him.
His blood flows from his chest, getting onto the flooring and all over the both of us, making a pool of warm, sticky, red liquid.
Snapping my teeth as I struggle to free my wrists, a bullet flies past my head, causing my Crank self to snap my head in the direction it came from, eyes darting to Brenda, who stands in the doorway with her gun. "YOU KILLED JORGE!" She screams, tears running down her face. "YOU'RE GOING TO PAY!"
As I try to scurry away, she fires several shots, one of the bullets going clean through my shoulder.
Shrieking in agony, the Crank stumbles onto the floor, but it manages to grab Brenda's ankle, yanking her off balance and causing her to fall flat onto her back, the gun flying out of her hand and sliding across the floor outside of the room.
Without a moment of hesitation, my body goes flying out the doorway and up the stairs, sprinting at an inhuman pace, Gally and Jorge's blood running down my clothes and body. Grasping the railing, I make a sudden sharp turn once I've reached the top of the flight, holding my shoulder as the rotting blood oozes through my fingers. Getting onto all fours, I rush to the nearest door, swinging it open and charging into a bathroom; however, the Crank halts in its tracks, staring at the back of a female figure with (y/h/c) hair and (y/s/c) skin.
Immediately, the virus releases me from my mind, and, gaining control of my own corpse body, I get to my feet, trembling. "What the shuck...?" I whisper.
The girl turns around, and I meet eyes with...myself.
Breathing picking up, my eyes widen. "Wh- What?" I wheeze, backing away. "H-How? How is this shucking possible?!"
As I turn to leave the room, I catch a glance in the mirror, doing a double-take and screaming at my reflection as I stumble back against the wall.
Looking back at me in the mirror is a familiar face, though it is grotesque and rotting, and the big, brown eyes that always comfort me are now black and cold like a shark, sending a pulse of utter horror throughout my body.
Newt.
"N-No... No!" His reflection exclaims in horror before quickly turning to the door, only to be stopped in it's tracks by Thomas, who stands in the doorway, clenching his jaw as tears run down his cheeks.
"T-Tommy?" I hear Newt's voice choke out.
With a trembling hand, Thomas raises a gun, aiming between Newt's eyes. Between my eyes.
Eyes widening, Newt's voice screams, "TOMMY, WAIT-"
Before he can finish, a gunshot rings in the air.
Sitting up with a jolt, I let out a shrill scream, lashing frantically. "NO! NO, THIS CAN'T BE TRUE! NOT HIM! ANYONE BUT HIM!"
There's the sound of a loud bang, followed by quick, loud footsteps.
"(Y/N)?! (Y/N), WHAT'S WRONG?!" A familiar voice shouts, and I'm suddenly wrapped up tightly by strong arms. "IT'S JUST A DREAM! (Y/N), WAKE UP; IT'S JUST A DREAM!" The thick accent exclaims, and the embrace around me tightens as I struggle and squirm with all of my might.
I open my eyes with a gasp of fear, darting them around the room and wheezing heavily as I take in my surroundings. I'm in the small room Gally assigned to me for resting, in my bed as golden rays of morning light seeps through the boards blocking the window behind me, and I quickly look down at my hands, examining the healthy, normal colored flesh of my arms and then eyeing the healthy, strong hands that hold tightly to me. I recognize the white long-sleeves of the arms wrapped around my arms and waist: Newt.
"It's alright... It's okay... It was just a bloody nightmare..." He whispers in my ear as he attempts to catch his breath, hugging me tightly from behind.
Suddenly, Gally sprints into the doorway, sliding into the door frame with a thud, a pistol in his hands. "WHAT THE SHUCK IS GOING ON?!" He exclaims, aiming the gun back and forth around the room.
Thomas, Fry, Brenda, and Jorge suddenly appear one-by-one behind Gally, peering over his shoulders.
"It's alright; everything's fine now." Newt tells Gally reassuringly as I steady my breathing.
Gally, sighing heavily in relief, drops his hands at his sides. "Why were you screaming, (y/n)? You're going to attract people passing by, and then we're screwed..." He sighs, rubbing his temple.
"She gets shucking night terrors, Gally." Thomas growls, shoving past the boy and taking a seat on the foot of my bed. "Are you alright? You haven't had one for a while..."
"Yeah," Newt mumbles, pulling away and leaning forward to look me in the eyes with worry, "and it sounded pretty bad, too..." He mumbles, brushing my hair out of my face.
Gulping, I struggle to conjure up the right words. "It was- It was terrible..."
"What happened?" Fry asks in a concerned tone from the doorway.
Staring as the floor as I catch my breath, I slowly avert my eyes to Newt, unable to say what I saw aloud.
Newt, looking into my eyes as if he's peering into my soul, nods slightly in understanding before shifting his eyes to Fry. "I don't think she wants to talk about it."
"Oh, yeah, of course." Fry nods. "Sorry, (y/n)." He apologizes.
I shake my head. "It's alright." I mumble softly, breathing steadying.
"I'm sorry about that, (y/n)..." Awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, Gally sighs heavily. "Well... Whenever you're ready, I've prepared breakfast."
• • •
Pulling my cream hoodie over my head, I quietly step into the third room down the hall at the top level, the skylight streaming pale sunlight into the center of the room, directly above the circular table that is covered in maps; Brenda, Jorge, Fry, Newt, and Thomas are already standing around the surface, waiting for Gally.
Flipping my hair out from underneath my hoodie, I stride to Newt's side on the other side of the table before taking my hair tie off of my right wrist, pulling my hair up into a ponytail.
Newt, breaking out of a stern daze, turns to look me. "How're you feeling?"
Inhaling deeply, I shrug. "The usual." I stuff my hands into my pockets.
Nodding, Newt folds his arms, staring back at the maps as he brings his hand to his mouth, brushing his thumb along his lips, seeming on edge.
Drawing my brows together, I gently rest a hand on his arm, brushing my thumb along his maroon coat. "I think I should be asking you how you're feeling?"
"Hm?" He lifts a brow, averting his eyes to me. "Oh, no. I'm fine, really."
"Are you sure?"
Slowly averting his eyes back to the table, he nods, not saying another word.
Just as I open my mouth to speak, Gally walks into the room. "Alright, shanks, here's the plan." He begins, carrying in four strange, black helmets and setting them on top of the table. "Teresa is working at WICKED HQ as we speak, so we need to be waiting for her when she's just about to leave work." He explains, placing a pistol down with one hand and reaching into his hoodie pocket to pull out two others with his other hand, setting them down on the table before turning on his heels and walking to a large, wooden cabinet in the corner. "Thomas, you and I will head out tonight. I've got some casual attire for you to wear." He pulls out four Launchers, carrying them to the table and plopping them down with everything else on the surface. "We'll catch Teresa on her way to her apartment, and we'll lure her to a private area. You'll have to be the bait for that, obviously." He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small, burlap sack and holding it up. "And, while you've got her caught off guard, I'll just," he pantomimes tossing the burlap bag over a person's head, "do that." He says before tossing the sack under the light on the table.
Thomas, leaning on the table, stares at the burlap, brows drawn in as he presses his lips tightly together.
"I have jobs for the rest of you while Thomas and I are gone, but I'll get to that in a minute." Gally continues. "Thomas and I will bring Teresa back here and get her to tell us exactly what we need to know: where Minho is, how to get our shucking chips out, and so on."
"Chips?" Newt mumbles.
"The second they took us in, WICKED implanted special trackers in the back of our necks. They have Bergs constantly scanning the ground below, and they've got their scanners in every entrance within the facility itself."
"Did you forget how we figured out you kids were tagged, hermano?" Jorge chimes in.
Newt shifts his eyes ahead in thought, frowning.
"Once we've got our answers, we get disguised and break Minho out." Gally explains. "Meanwhile, I also need to jailbreak into WICKED's system for Lawrence's men."
The mentioning of that Crank alone sends a shiver down my spine.
"And where do you expect to find bloody disguises?" Newt asks as he leans against the table on his elbows, his harsh tone causing me to furrow my brows together.
He's acting strange.
Gally, folding his arms, shifts his attention to Newt. "We've got helmets right here. You don't think we've got the rest of the uniforms?" He asks. "Just because WICKED hasn't found us does not mean that we haven't had some close calls with their security; which reminds me to tell you that, when picking out uniforms, avoid the ones that we couldn't get the bloodstains out of."
With how simply Gally said that, it takes my brain a moment to register that he's implying that the disguises come from WICKED patrols they've killed.
"Wait, so you've had uniforms this entire time, yet you never once thought to break into WICKED with those disguises until now?" Thomas asks, giving Gally a frustrated, judgmental look.
Gally, clenching his jaw, irritably glances at Thomas. "I'm not a slinthead; obviously, that thought has crossed my mind, but, with your shucking klunk attention, you must not have been listening to me when I mentioned the fact that I've got a shucking tag in my neck, and I don't know where things are inside. I can't just 'dress up' and waltz in, hoping I don't get caught and that I find what I need."
Scowling, Thomas mutters through clenched teeth, "There's other men that work for Lawrence that aren't tagged."
"And Lawrence places me in charge of every operation." Gally retorts. "He wouldn't trust those shanks with his life, let alone to break into WICKED without getting caught. Most of them are crazed with the Flare, you do realize that?"
Thomas glares at Gally, silent.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Gally stands taller as he averts his attention to the rest of us, resting his hands on the edge of the table, the sleeves of his sweatshirt sliding over his hands, creating a deceiving gentle appearance to the strong, intimidating boy. "So that's the plan: kidnap Teresa, force her to help us, break into WICKED, and take what we need."
Running his fingers through his brown hair, Thomas turns on his heels, pacing away from the table before striding back towards us. "No. There has to be another way."
Gally scoffs. "There isn't another way. You saw the building; that's our only route in." Gally says sternly, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you think we can just shucking walk in there through the front doors and ask for permission to enter? That there's a magical password that will allow us to go inside and get off scotch-free? We need to get ahold of Teresa if we want to make it through those doors."
"What am I failing to understand here?" Brenda finally speaks up, lifting her eyes to Thomas. "This is the same girl that betrayed us, right? The same di-"
"Inappropriate." Newt mutters flatly, seeming to be scowling as he stares ahead at the table, leaning in further on his elbows as he fidgets with his hands.
"Why cut her off when she's right?" Gally asks before gesturing to Brenda. "I like her."
Brenda, staring as Thomas with a worried expression, asks, "What's going on with you? You have been beyond determined to get Minho for the past six months, and now you're hesitant?"
Taking in a deep breath and putting his hands on his hips, Thomas finds himself at a loss for words, unable to justify his standpoint.
Newt, brushing his thumb against his lips, clenches his jaw. "What? You're afraid your bloody little girlfriend is going to get hurt?" He asks in a rushed, frustrated tone, causing everyone to look at him, expressions morphing into confusion. "This was never really about rescuing Minho, was it?" He accuses, averting his cold scowl to Thomas.
Taken aback, Thomas gives the blonde boy a hesitant, puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"
"Teresa." Newt snaps, standing upright and walking towards Thomas. "She is the only reason Minho was taken from us in the first place, and now we finally get the opportunity to rescue him, and you don't want to? Because of her?!" He speaks at a livid, rapid pace, getting into Thomas's face as the brunette backs away.
Tensing up, I stand taller, shooting Frypan an anxious glance before darting my eyes back to Thomas and Newt. Gulping nervously, I try to intervene, "Newt-"
"Because, deep down, you still care about her, don't you?" He growls as Thomas gets closer to the wall, Newt's face only inches from his. "Just admit it."
The tension rises to dangerous levels in the room, making my stomach turn.
Struggling to conjure up the proper response, Thomas mumbles, "Newt, I-"
"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Newt suddenly explodes, grasping Thomas by the collar of his jacket and slamming him against the wall with enraged power, causing me to jump, eyes widening. "DON'T. LIE. TO ME!" He vehemently screams, the veins bulging out his neck as he breathes heavily through his nose.
I quickly rush behind Newt, reaching a hand out to his back. "Newt-" my voice cracks as I struggle to remain calm, "Newt, calm down."
Panting from the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Newt's eyes clear as he stares into Thomas's fearful eyes, releasing the collar of his coat with trembling hands. "I- I'm sorry, Tommy..." He whispers, scanning his friend with panicked eyes before slowly turning around to face the rest of us. "I'm sorry." He repeats, shifting his glance from Jorge to Brenda to Fry before looking down at me. "I'm sorry..." He says once more before turning away, the expression on his face appearing as if he's struggling to contain his rising panic, silently rubbing his right arm and swiftly limping out of the room.
Trying to steady his breathing, Thomas looks to us before rushing out after Newt.
Shakily bringing my hand to my mouth before resting it over my heart as it races, I look back at the others, worried.
"Now, I'm noticing that Newt's acting strange..." Fry mumbles worriedly to me before looking to Jorge.
Brenda's hand remains clasped over her mouth, genuinely concerned for the blonde boy.
Gally, frowning with folded arms, nods. "That is a side of Newt I have never, ever seen in the three years I've known him."
Without any further hesitation, I turn on my heels and stride to the door.
"I wouldn't follow after if I were you, hermana." Jorge warns.
Looking back at him over my shoulder, I clench my jaw. "Someone needs to make sure they don't take the fight outside." And, with that, I rush out, closing the door behind me.
As I step out into the main room, the pale sunlight beams down onto the floor from the roof door. The boys must've gone up there, given that it has been closed since last night.
Walking to the sunlight and standing directly beneath the door, I jump up with a grunt, reaching for the edge of the opening and missing by less than a foot. Sighing heavily, I crouch down slightly before springing into the air and, once again, missing the ledge. I huff angrily, staring up at the sky above and placing my hands on my hips as I try to think of a way to get onto the roof.
"Need a boost?" I familiar voice asks, and I turn to see Fry entering from the mapping room, closing the door behind him.
Forcing a weak laugh, I nod, scratching the back of my head. "If you wouldn't mind?"
"Of course not." Fry chuckles, walking to me and stepping into the sunlight, crouching down. "Get on my shoulders."
Nodding, I carefully swing my right leg over Fry's right shoulder, adjusting my left leg over his left, positioning myself cautiously.
"Ready?" He asks.
"Ready."
"Alright, keep balanced." He says before slowly rising to his feet with me sitting on his shoulders.
Reaching up to the ledge of the opening, I grasp onto the concrete, pulling myself up with all of my upper body strength as Frypan grasps my feet with his hands and carefully pushes me up. I quietly scramble onto the roof, sitting on the edge, my feet dangling inside the hole as I look at Newt sitting at the front end of the building, his legs hanging over the ledge. Thomas is couched down at the edge beside him.
"Psst!" Fry whispers from below.
I look down at him, questioningly lifting a brow.
"Want me to stay here so you can sneak back inside without getting caught?"
I nod, giving him a thumbs up.
Chuckling, he returns the gesture.
Sitting comfortably in front of the opened roof door, I pull my knees to my chest, listening to Newt and Thomas intently.
"That's why I haven't been feeling myself recently, and that's why I said all those terrible things..." Newt mumbles, frowning.
What's why?
"It's just... It's hard for me because it's Minho being tortured in there, you know?"
Nodding, Thomas whispers, "Yeah, I hear you."
Newt stares at the city ahead in silence, huffing a sigh. "I know you care about Teresa. I knew from the second she recognized you back in the Glade that she was something else to you, and you specifically, and, when she betrayed us, a part of me knew you would be bloody conflicted about it." He looks down at his hands as he fidgets, pausing for a few moments, debating if he should say the next part. "I understand, you know?" He says, looking at Thomas with a soft, somewhat disbelieving laugh to himself.
Tilting his head to the side, Thomas asks, "What do you mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?" He asks as he looks back out at the towers in front of him. "If (y/n) did what Teresa did, if she betrayed us, I would be crazy enough to want to get her back, too." He mumbles, inhaling deeply. "In fact, I'd be storming into WICKED's bloody facility right now, chip and all, if she was in there, working with the people that are out to kill us."
Nodding slightly as he listens, Thomas looks down at the concrete below him.
A few seconds of silence pass.
"But that's just the thing, isn't it?" Newt mumbles, causing Thomas to lift his head to look at him, once again. "Teresa did betrayed us." He says, turning his head to meet with his brunette friend's eyes. "And (y/n)? She didn't." He says flatly. "In fact, (y/n) would never do that."
I feel pride swelling up inside me from hearing Newt say that.
Pursing his lips together and hanging his head in shame, Thomas nods. "I guess you're right..." He sighs heavily.
The two of them sit in silence.
A minute passes.
Two.
Newt breaks it. "Did I ever tell you...how I broke my leg?" He asks in a weak voice.
Knowing full well how sensitive this subject is, and not wanting to intrude any further on their heart-to-heart, I look down into the opening in the ground, dangling my legs back over the ledge and waving down at Fry.
Looking up at me, he gives me a thumbs up. "Just slide down onto my shoulders again."
Nodding, I roll onto my stomach on the roof before carefully sliding down from the ledge, Frypan guiding my legs to his shoulders as I carefully sit on them.
Once I let go of the edge, Frypan carefully crouches down to the ground, and I step off onto the floor safely.
"Thanks, Fry."
Standing upright and dusting off his hands with a warm smile, he nods. "Don't mention it."