The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Other Side

Setting my jacket on a crate and taking a seat on the box, I roll up the sleeves of my black shirt and pull back my hair into a ponytail before pulling the pail of fresh water that Vince and I had heated and distilled to my legs. Sticking out my tongue slightly as I reach into my pocket and fumble about for the bandanna, I pull out the blood-stained cloth, examining it with a sigh.
I lift my eyes to the ocean, watching the distant waves crash, one over the other, before easing into the sand as they gently roll up the slope of the shore. The fresh, cool air of the early morning gently brushes through my hair, as if the world is trying to sooth me after several months of pain and fighting. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply through my nose, taking in the salty scent and listening to the seagulls calling to one another as they soar overhead along the gentle breeze. Through the waves of coolness from the swaying air, I get small phases of gentle warmth upon my back, radiating from the sun that has now risen just above the mountains.
Brushing back a strand of hair behind my ear that had fallen out of the hair tie and into my face as I open my eyes, I let out a peaceful sigh and drop Newt's bandanna into the clean water and push it under the surface so that it's completely soaked.
"What are you doing?"
Looking back over my shoulder, I see Newt standing behind me, attempting to peer over my shoulder at the tin bucket. With a weak smile tugging on the corner of my lips, I manage to laugh softly under my breath, turning back around to face the pail as I scrub the material with my thumbs beneath the water, the clear water beginning to cloud with a light shade of pink. "Just cleaning your lucky bandanna that I managed to soak with my blood two nights ago..." I mumble.
Furrowing his brows together, Newt quietly crouches down beside me, looking into the water of the tin bucket.
"You know," I begin, taking a deep breath as I laugh softly to myself, "I guess your bandanna is truly a lucky one."
Tilting his head to the side as he shifts his eyes to me, Newt asks, "What do you mean?"
I avert my eyes to Newt as I clean the cloth the best I can. "I was bleeding out pretty bad," I explain, pulling my right hand out of the water to point at my left shoulder, "and I kinda shoved it in the wound to slow the bleeding." I manage to laugh at the thought as I avert my eyes to the water, staring at the reflection of the sky. "Honestly, without it, I probably would have bled to death before we got to the Berg." I watch the pink cloud spread in the water, shifting the clear liquid to the soft pink hue. "Of course, I stained it in the process... Sorry about that."
Chuckling softly as his small smile tugs on the right corner of his lips, Newt shakes his head. "Don't be. I gave it to you for luck, and you used it as intended." He says softly.
"Yeah, well, you also gave it to me to provide comfort if I had lost you." I mutter, sighing. "I'm glad I don't have to use it for that intention."
"As am I." He whispers.
I turn my head to Newt, smiling warmly as the salty ocean breeze sweeps my loose strand of hair back into my face.
Grinning in return, Newt gently lifts his hand to brush my hair back behind my ear. He lets his hand fall to the sand to support himself in his crouched position, staring into my eyes with a warm smile, his chocolate colored irises shifting back and forth between each of my own, unveiling the contemplation taking place in his mind. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Newt asks, "You want to walk and talk?"
Grinning at him with a soft laugh, I say, "Well, I'm a little busy at the moment-"
"Cleaning red blood from a piece of cloth that was already the color red in the first place." Newt chuckles, rising to his feet. "Come on. It can soak in the water while we talk."
Smiling up at him and unable to say no, I exhale softly, taking my hands out of the pail and drying them on my pants as I stand. "Fine."
Smiling even wider, Newt takes my right hand with his left before turning and limping down-shore, closer to the sea.
As the two of us walk hand-in-hand along the shoreline, I feel truly content, far more than I have ever been. All of the pain and suffering, while the scars from them will linger on, is over. WICKED will no longer tamper with our lives, nor will the Flare take another away. Here, we are truly in Paradise, away from the sun-scorched desert, cured from the incurable disease, alive and well, together. Home.
"So we've got, let's see..." Newt releases my hand to count with the fingers on both of his, "it looks like we've got ten days plus," he pauses, as if calculating the answer to a complex equation, "the rest of our lives to spend here." He chuckles, grinning down at me. "Whatever shall we do with the very limited time that we've got here?"
Giggling as I stuff my hands into my pockets, I shrug. "Everything, I guess." I say. "Why do you ask? Do you have any specifics in mind?"
"Well, we've got an entire island to journey about, so there's that," Newt begins, "and we've got to get our permanent homes settled out here. I don't know about you, but I would like to eventually have an actual shelter with a bed rather than a bloody hammock for the rest of my days."
Laughing softly, I nod in agreement. "Good that."
He nods, too, chuckling to himself as he stuffs his hands into his pant pockets, looking down at the sand as we walk along the edge. "I don't know," he shrugs, "a literal family would be nice to have one day..." He mutters, almost too quiet for me to hear.
I avert my eyes to him, smiling as I see his cheeks turn red with blush. "I agree."
Newt shifts his brown eyes to me, taken aback. Speechless, his mouth falls open slightly.
Smiling warmly in response, I gently grasp his arm, rise onto my toes, and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.
He manages to blush even more, his grin stretching across his face. Looking ahead, Newt puffs out his chest slightly with a newfound confidence, causing me to snicker to myself, and he continues to limp along the shore.
Walking alongside Newt, I cannot help but stare at him in pure awe. I love him so much; words are not enough to describe it.
Inhaling deeply before letting out a long sigh of relief, looking out to the ocean, Newt says, "All thanks to you for saving my life, I am able to be here."
Heart fluttering, I tighten my hold on Newt's arm as he limps alongside me.
"I'm really glad that I get to see this place. That I get to call this home." He looks down at me with a widening smile. "Although, I could have been in the middle of the Scorch right now, surrounded by Cranks and still infected, and I still would have been able to say that I was home as long as you were beside me."
Blushing, I bashfully look down and rest my head against his upper arm as we walk, and he gives me a tender kiss on the head.
"Speaking of infection," I begin, looking back up at him, "how are you feeling?"
His grin manages to widen even more. "The best I have ever been in my life."
"So you truly believe that you are cured? That the virus has been completely wiped from your body?"
He nods. "I feel far healthier than I have in a very, very long time." He says softly.
Smiling in return, I nod slightly. "Good."
The two of us continue walking along the sand of the beach, admiring the world around us. Although we had been camping at the shore where the Right Arm had found the ship in good enough condition to refurbish a few months back, being here at this beach feels indescribably more fresh and beautiful. More freeing.
After a while, Newt begins to talk more about what the future holds, both, in the matters of all of us survivors and in the matters of him and myself, and I get swept up in his passionate, hypothetical storytelling, no longer listening to the words themselves, but listening to the joy and excitement in his accented voice.
I eventually stop in my tracks, and Newt, who is caught up in his hopes and dreams, continues to limp along the shore, sighing contently amidst his sharing of ideas for the future, which is only bright to him now.
Watching him limp ahead, I fold my arms and huff a soft laugh under my breath, enjoying being able to merely watch him be this blissful.
Seeing Newt happy, watching him make his way along the free land of the Safe Haven, I am brought to an internal reflection, recollecting the past while Newt looks to the future.
Almost four years ago, I woke up in the Cage in the heart of the Maze, completely and utterly alone and without a single memory to cling to for consolation. As the months passed, facing the strife and trials along the way, I never thought I would see the other side of the Maze, but then, when I did, all I wanted to do was go back in because, at least, the Maze came with isolation from the Flare and the sun-scorched earth. Ignorance, then, was truly bliss.
But then Aris and I had met Newt, along with Thomas and Minho and Frypan and the rest of their surviving group, and I felt assured that, even on the other side of things, being exposed to Cranks and the Flare, everything would be okay as long as I had them, my new family. My only family.
Now that I think about it, when Teresa had done as Marcus had, when she had betrayed us, my life became an abundance of opposing sides. We were on the other side of the fight, opposite of her. Through the months, I had to adapt to the world on the other side of the Maze walls, learning how to survive in this Flare-worn earth. We had a mission to save Minho, Sonya, and Aris from the other side of WICKED's walls, and I had to look into the eyes of the other side of Newt, completely overtaken by the once incurable virus.
But it wasn't just one side or the other with him; I had seen every single side of Newt. I had seen him at his best, and I had seen him at his worst; I had witnessed him at his happiest points and to when he was full of immeasurable rage. I've seen him laugh and cry, scream and fall silent. No part of Newt is hidden from me, not even the most minuscule aspect, and the same applies with me to him. Together, we placed our shattered parts in the blinding rays of the sun, and, together, we mended them into one work of art.
However, the opposing side that had made the greatest impact, the situation that will forever be seared into my brain, was when I, myself, saw the other side of my life: a life without Newt. That is something that will remain a part of me forever, the image of Newt's lifeless body on the cold hard ground, when I was simply in a dream state, engraved in my mind. An eternal image, a warning, from when I was merely on the other side.
Newt, finally noticing that I am not directly beside or behind him, turns to look back over his shoulder at me with a puzzled expression. "(y/n)?" He calls, breaking me out of my deep thoughts. "Are you keeping up?"
Staring at Newt, with his olive-green shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his growing, blonde hair getting brushed into his eyes by the wind as he squints one eye from the bright, rising sun, his nose scrunched up in a questioning manner, I feel joy swell up inside of me, as if it will make my heart burst, and, with a huge grin stretching across my face, I nod. "Yes, Newt. I am." I call, running to him.
As I charge in his direction with overflowing joy, Newt, who returns the abundance of happiness, extends out his arms, and, just as I am in his reach, Newt lifts me into the air by my waist, twirling me around before slowing to a stop and gently lowering me to the ground, placing my feet back into the sand. His eyes locked onto my own, glistening with overwhelming love, Newt suddenly pulls me against him by my waist and presses his warm, soft lips against mine, giving me a passionate kiss that can only be given with a love that is as fiery and pure as ours.
Here is my mosaic. Here is my home.

The End