oneshots // newtmas

Phase Three

"Get the bloody hell off me!" Newt struggled as the WICKED guards tightened their hold on Newt's upper arms.
"Fighting is just gonna make this worse for you," one of the guards stated as he dug his fingers into the soft skin of Newt's underarm. It hurt but he didn't dare make a sound. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt him.
Soon enough Newt was dragged through a doorway, he was able to get his foot on the frame and push back, offsetting the balance of the guards. His escape plan was shut down as quickly as it started. His bad leg gave out, allowing him to be yanked through the open door like he was weightless.
Newt was thrown into a chair, his wrists bound to the arms by thick leather straps before he could even blink. He scowled at the guards as they pulled at him, adjusting his body as if he weren't a living person. The chair was the only thing in the dark room, it honestly creeped Newt out.
"Where's Tommy?" Newt let slip out. He regretted it as soon as the words passed his lips.
One of the guards smiled, it was the tall one with long legs and a thick round middle. "Don't worry, you'll see him soon enough."
"I wanna see him now! Where's Minho and Fry?" Newt was spitting out questions faster than his brain could think. "Are they okay? Is Tommy okay?"
The guards shook their heads at each other, like Newt was the misbehaved child they were babysitting. "Should we sedate him?"
The other guard, the dark one with a scar along his left cheek, made a weird grunting noise. "No, it'll just slow everything down. He can't go anywhere anyways."
The fat guard seemed satisfied as he looked Newt over again. "You're right. He's Janson's problem now."
Newt just watched them, fear building up in his chest. He tried to shove it down, but the panic was bubbling up into his throat. He was helpless at the hands of people who weren't capable of having emotions. He was completely and utterly shucked.
The guards didn't even look back at him as they left. As soon as they disappeared out the doors Newt started struggling again. There had to be a way to get the restraints undone. He shoved against the structure of the chair. He knew it wouldn't work, his bad leg was throbbing and the straps were starting to cut into the skin on his wrists, but he still tried.
He stopped struggling as he heard the door swing open again. He felt his lips pull into a deep frown and the panic rise into his throat again. It was the ratman.
"Hello Newt."
Newt didn't answer, he just scowled.
"Welcome to Phase Three."
"No. I don't wanna bloody do this anymore," Newt managed to choke out, hating the way his voice cracked on the last word. He just wanted to be with his friends. He wanted Thomas to hold him.
"It'll all be worth it in the end Newt, when we find the cure."
"What are you gonna do to me?"
The ratman smiled a smile that sent chills down Newt's spine. Then he started walking closer which made Newt try and push his body as far away from the man as it could go.
"Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit."
Before Newt could even tell what he was doing, the ratman slapped something onto the sides of his temples. They were sticky and Newt desperately wanted to itch them.
"What is th-" Newt was cut off as a scratchy scream ripped through his throat. He felt like his brain was on fire, his whole head was spinning and his mouth hung open, sucking in panicked breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut as the white hot pain rippled through his brain.
It was over almost as quickly as it started. "What in the bloody shucking hell was that?!" Newt screamed as he turned his head side to side, trying to get the patches off with his shoulders. He couldn't go through that again.
The ratman didn't answer, he just turned and walked through the door, mumbling something as he swung it shut behind him. Newt heard and it made his blood run cold.
"Commence Phase Three."

Newt's heart rate wouldn't slow down. He could feel the sticky pads on his temples, a constant reminder that WICKED could shoot unbearable pain through him at any second. He couldn't relax. He tried taking deep breaths, looking around the room, pulling against the straps. He wasn't sure why they just left him in there, maybe the whole point was just to scare him.
He was about to try and tip the chair over when a light turned on, illuminating the room in a warm white color.
Newt stopped, looking up and squinting at the bulb. How did he not notice that before?
Then, the wall in front of him came to life. It turned bright blue, letting off a soft white noise sound.
Newt cocked his head, feeling more confused than scared now. He tried to scoot his chair closer with no success, he concluded it must have been secured to the floor somehow.
Then an image flashed across the wall, replacing the blue. Newt gasped when he realized what it was. It was Thomas.
"Tommy." Newt whispered as he watched the boy on the screen. He was dressed in all white, walking around a room that matched his clothes. Newt watched him bang on the walls, calling out to no one. He looked scared. Newt felt sick.
"What are you doing to him?!" Newt yelled. He knew he was being watched, someone could probably hear him.
Newt was about to call out again when a portion of the wall in Thomas' room swung open. Guards poured in, Newt counted at least seven of them. Thomas was back against the far wall now, his back pressed to the white surface.
Newt couldn't hear what they were saying, it just sounded like mumbles. No one moved for a few seconds until one of the guards nodded and held up a weapon Newt didn't even see he had. He pointed it right at Thomas who didn't move. Shuck him for playing hero all the time.
Newt felt his eyes widen as the guard moved to the front of the group, cocking the weapon. Newt could tell it was a gun of some sort.
The guard cocked it, making Newt's heart drop. They wouldn't hurt him, there's no way they would kill Thomas.
He was wrong. The guard pulled the trigger, hitting Thomas square in the chest with something that looked like a small white grenade.
Then the screaming started, all Newt could hear was screaming. Thomas' screaming. He felt his eyes prick with tears as he started struggling hard in his chair again.
"Stop it! You're hurting him!" Newt yelled his throat raw. "I'll do whatever you want! Just STOP!" Newt screamed louder, trying to drone out the pained sounds that were ripping through Thomas' throat.
Newt rocked back and forth in the chair, slamming his hips into the sides as if it would do something. He could see Thomas' body spazzing on the ground as if every inch of him was on fire. Newt felt a huge pit in his stomach, he wanted nothing more than to be in that room with him.
Then it hit him.
WICKED knew. Somehow they knew how Newt felt toward Thomas. They were hurting Thomas because Newt loved him.
Newt slammed his hip hard into the side of the chair, feeling a crashing wave of guilt roll over his body. He was about to scream out again when the pain came back. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain was worse than anything else he'd ever felt. He couldn't breathe until it was over.
He slumped back against the backrest of the chair, exhausted. His chest heaved up and down and he could feel the droplets of sweat rolling down his forehead.
He focused his attention back on the screen. He didn't notice that Thomas stopped screaming. He was just laying on the ground now, curled up in a ball.
The guards moved in, circling the boy. He watched one of them pick up Thomas, uncurling his body and holding him up by his underarms.
The guard with the gun held it up again, pointing it back at Thomas' stomach.
"No no no no," Newt muttered.
Thomas weakly lifted his head, his cheeks were flushed red and his hair was stuck to his forehead with the sweat that matted it there. Suddenly Thomas slammed his elbow into the stomach of the guy holding him, he fell, dropping Thomas who scrambled across the ground.
Thomas barely got two feet away before the guard sent another one of those white grenades into his back.
The screaming was worse this time. It didn't even sound human. Thomas' body was thrashing, like he was trying to get away from his own body, trying to get out of his skin.
Newt's eyes burned, he could feel the hot tears in his eyes rolling onto his cheeks.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get the tears to stop. This was worse than anything WICKED had ever put him through.
"I'm sorry Tommy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Newt repeated over and over again until the screams stopped.
This time Thomas just looked completely worn out. He was sprawled across the ground, not moving. He flinched when a guard reached for him, dragging him over to a corner of the room. Newt was squeezing the arms of the chair so hard it hurt. He let out a little breath of relief when the guards left. All seven of them poured out of the room, closing the door behind them, returning the room back into just pure white.
It was ten minutes after the door shut. That's when Thomas started crying.