Fingerprints

Eight

There was nothing. Nothing. They'd been searching for eight hours, two hours after their shift ended. Thomas had kept searching, but ushered Newt to go home. The blond had refused, and stayed to help search. Yet they'd found nothing, Newt's leg was clearly killing him, and Thomas was beginning to falter. Yet he couldn't give up hope, he couldn't give up. He had to find something, anything. He didn't care what it was, a strand of her hair would be enough at this point, but he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up until he found a lead.

The mans stomach was groaning in pain, pleading for food as his throat rasped. He swallowed the itch, and distracted himself from the small pin pricks of discomfort in his legs, ushering him to sit down and just take five. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Teresa needed him.Thomas was so wrapped up in his own turmoil, that he almost missed the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye.

Newt's knee had buckled, sending the blond toppling to the floor. The american was at his side instantly, taking his weight as he crashed into him.

"Shuck." Newt groaned, trying to stand up straight again, his leg not allowing him. Thomas wrapped an arm around Newt's shoulders, hauling him toward the car.

"Come on Newt, take a break." He grunted, kicking open the front door of the Agnes house and pulling open the car door. He helped Newt into it, who immediately sighed and pulled out a water bottle. Thomas watched in envy as the liquid flowed down his partners throat. Newt dragged his lips away from it with difficulty, passing it too Thomas, who took it up eagerly. He drank the rest of the soothing water quickly, watching as the blond pulled out a granola bar and snapped it in two. He passed one end to his partner, who ate it greedily and immediately felt more energised.

"Sorry Tommy." the blond muttered.

"What for?" Thomas asked, frowning slightly.

"My shucking leg. I'm not exactly being very helpful." he sighed.

"Newt don't be ridiculous. Your out here two hours after your shift ended, just to help me. I seriously owe you one." He smiled gratefully at his partner, who's lips tugged into a small smile.

"Well, this girl clearly means a lot to you, and I hated seeing you upset this morning. I just want you to be happy. Besides, that's what partners are for."

"You're the best Newt." he grinned at the blond, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Now lemme look at that file again." Thomas would be a fool not to notice the slight pink tint residing on the brits pale cheeks as his partner passed him the small card file. Newt looked through it again, stopping on a grainy CCTV photo of Teresa. She was stood outside a shop, looking small in her large coat, on her phone. People were going about their day around her, and she was on the middle of a busy hughstreet. Thats what Thomas didn't get. How did someone just vanish into thin air on the middle of a high street. "So this is where she was last seen?" He asked. Thomas nodded, as Newt furrowed his brow, pulling the picture closer to his nose.

His eyes went wide, and Thomas could practically see his heart beat speed up.

"Tommy, look!" He shoved the photo toward Thomas, who blinked at it. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he blinked back at his partner in confusion. Newt rolled his eyes, swinging his legs into the car. "Just get in, I'll show you when we get back to the office."

-

Thomas was sat at their desk, waiting for Newt to come back. He stared at the picture of Teresa. It was her passport photo, and she looked so serious. Thomas didn't like it. The Teresa he knew was always smiling, always happy. The brunette was determined to find her, to make her smile again. He'd make sure of it. He wondered where his best friend was. He'd texted her the day before, about some movie night they were going to have. Thomas had to know they were still going to have it.

His partner hobbled toward the desk, arms full of files, which he dumped out onto the stained surface. Thomas blinked up at him as he pulled out different photos from all of the files, before pushing them into Thomas's chest. Then he shoved the files off the desk, and took the photos from Thomas again. Carefully laying them out side by side, he stood back and crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at Thomas expectantly, as if he was supposed to understand.

"Newt? What are you showing me?" He blinked. Newt let out an over exaggerated sigh and pointed to the picture of Teresa.

"Look, in the back ground, a WCKD van. But look, here." he pointed to a second one, "also a WCKD van. Thomas, all of these peoples have disappeared. And in all of the photos where they're last seen, theres a WCKD van."

'Holy shit."

"Exactly. It's a theory in the office, that they're a shady company. Unfortunately, them being in all of the pictures isn't enough to grant us a search warrant. We needed a least five, before it's considered too much of a coincidence. But now, with Teresa's, we can finally get a search warrant and snoop around!" He said excitably, his eyes lighting up. It wasn't hard to see that Newt adored his work, and put so much of his time and effort into it.

"Newt how long have you wanted to search there?" The brunette couldn't help but smile at the mans excitement.

"Years! Oh Tommy we have to bring Minho and Brenda, we've all been trying so hard to get the warrant, please, can they come, pretty please?" he batted his eyelashes at Thomas, who snorted.

"You don't need my permission."

"No, I need your compliance."

"Well, you have it. I don't care who comes, I'm just glad to have a lead." Newt almost let out a squeal, reminding himself to call Minho and Brenda on a pink post-it.

"I see WCKD vans around all the time, but I never actually stopped to think about them. What do they even do?" Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and glanced over at the blond who was trying to recompose himself.

"It stands for Wardrobes, Cabinets, Kitchens and Doors. They claim to sell like, furniture and klunk."

"Claim?" Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"Think about it Tommy, have you seen the size of their vans? They couldn't even fit a bloody bed in there, and it says on their website that their furniture comes fully assembled meaning-"

"They don't flat pack it."

"Exactly. They're not selling furniture, I refuse to believe that."

"Mmm." There was a beat of silence, before Newt turned to him.

"Tommy, go home. Get some sleep. We'll be bright up and early to start searching again." For once, Thomas was too tired to argue. Instead, he slung his bag over his shoulder and turned back to the blond.

"It's raining. Let me give you a lift home." he offered. Newt visibly recoiled.

"I..uh..I don't think.."

"Please Newt."

"No. I..I wanna walk home." he stared at his shoes, clenching his jaw with nerves.

"Newt, I know that's not true. Look.." He sighed softly, "if your worried about Mark, stay with me tonight." Newt scoffed.

"Look, I'm not gonna deny all the things your accusing Mark of right there, but you seriously don't get it. If you really cared about my safety, you'd get that it's a lot safer for me to walk home, without anyone else. Sure, I may be really late, and he may have had to make his own dinner, but it's gonna be a lot worse if another man drops me off. And it's gonna be even worse if I don't come home at all. Thanks for giving a shit Tommy, but I know how to look after myself." he sighed, giving Thomas a forced smile before limping away, leaving him alone. The american groaned, smacking himself with a file. This was going o be trickier than he thought.