Fingerprints

Seven

Newt watched as all colour drained from his partners face. He frowned and gently reached out to touch Thomas's shoulder, watching as his eyes went wide with horror.

"Tommy are you-" Thomas shoved passed the blond, causing him to topple onto the closed toilet seat. He regained his balance, only to find the cubicle empty. He stumbled to his feet and went after the american. Thomas hurried toward their desk, practically launching himself at his phone and fumbling with it, pale fingers shaking. Newt caught up with him and watched him intently. Thomas pressed the phone to his ear, trying to steady his breathing.

"Please T, please. Pick up." he whispered, eyes closed and breath ragged. Newt's eyes widened as he realised. Thomas knew the missing person. He knew Teresa Agnes. 'Well, that makes things complicated.' Of course, she didn't pick up and the man began to frantically read through her file, tears springing to his eyes.

"Tommy-"

"No no no no, this can't be happening, this can't I-" he rambled to himself.

"Thomas I-"

"Nonononononononononono"

"Thomas!" The brunette slammed his fist into the desk top, before wheeling on Newt.

"WHAT!?" The blond was taken aback. He had never seen Thomas be anything more than slightly serious, and he wasn't used to seeing this dark panic swallowing his hazel eyes. Thomas was scared, and he needed someone to ground him. So as much as Newt wanted to yell back, he remained calm, and placed firm hands on his partners shoulders, avoiding the stares they were getting.

"Stop. Just stop. Panicking isn't going to help. You clearly know..uh..Teresa, and I get that your scared, but the longer you fuck about, the less chance we have of finding her, ok? Just, calm down." He kept his voice low and firm. Thomas took a deep, shaky breath, and nodded softly.

"She's my best friend Newt. Why didn't I know about this before there was an official report? Why wasn't I there?" He whispered, sniffling slightly. Newt sighed, pulling his friend into his chest. Thomas cried quietly into Newt's shirt, grip tight around the mans thin waist. The blond hushed him, running a hand through the mans dark hair and rocking him slowly. They stood there for a while, a solid ten minutes, as familiar chaos ensued around them. But Newt stayed, with Thomas wrapped up in his arms, until the mans cries slowly subsided. He ignored the stares, and the obvious teasing that would come, and the relief that Minho and Brenda weren't there, and just focused on his partner.

He'd never stopped to really think about how he felt about Thomas. He was glad their partnership was coming up to a month with no..recurring issues. Thomas was sharp, on his feet and behind his eyes. He was handsome, not that Newt cared at all, and he was almost the polar opposite of the blond. 'But hey, opposites attract.' They got on well, the brunette could make him laugh easily, with the smallest of things. One time Thomas had been roped into a lecture from Alby, and he'd met Newt's gaze from across the room, he'd started to make stupid faces at the blond whenever Alby turned away. Long story short, Newt had ended up spitting his coffee all over Gally who had been passing by at the time. Gally still didn't like Thomas.

Thomas straightened, looking at Newt with a new firmness and determination, although the hurt and panic still remained. The average person would have a lot of hope if their loved one went missing. Not Thomas. He knew the facts, the statistics. And they were clearly chewing him inside out. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to thank Newt, but the brit knew they had no time to waste, and that Thomas would thank him for cutting him off later.

"Come on Tommy. Get your klunk together and let's get moving." he said firmly, scooping up Teresa's file. He pulled out his phone, calling for a car as he skipped stairs, gripping the hand rail tightly.