rebuilding from the ashes[newtmas]

rebuilding from the ashes

“Please Tommy, please.”
Thomas felt a lump in his chest, hearing his best friend whisper those words over and over amid the commotion of the dying city. Gunshots, explosions, buildings crumbling to the ground, all of it was a horrid and haunting mess of a symphony. Newt lay across his lap, head buried in the brunet’s side and hand gripping his arm as if it was a lifeline, pleading for Thomas to free him so he didn’t have to risk hurting the boy he cared for.
But Thomas wouldn’t listen.
Thomas would rather sit in the center of the hellish flames, holding a dying friend even if it meant he would die too. He’d rather die with him than leave the blond he had cared for so much since before the Maze.
“Newt, just hold on, please. They’ll be here, I promise.” Thomas said slowly, careful not to trip over the words he himself had difficulty believing. He needed to stay strong. “I promise.”
Newt grasped those words, holding them tightly, trying to keep the surge of blind anger from bubbling to the surface, even though he knew his exhausted body wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway. He pressed himself closer to Thomas, trying to isolate his mind from the audible reminders of the warzone.
A building nearby groaned, leaning close to falling, its flaming structure unable to carry much more stress, prompting Thomas to scoot a few centimeters to his right as a reflex, despite the fact it had no purpose. Newt’s breath hitched from the sudden movement, gasping becoming more ragged with each strained attempt for air. He clung to his sanity, or what was left of it.
“Thomas!” a familiar voice called out over the fighting, and there was Brenda and Minho, running faster than they thought their legs could take them, avoiding and dodging obstacles, a bottle of the precious blue serum in one hand an a syringe in the other. The pair arrived, stumbling from stopping so quickly, shaky hands filling the syringe in a race against the clock which was seconds from running out of time to count. Thomas, though reluctant to let go of the boy, pulled Newt’s body away from his, laying the blond’s arm out so he could receive the medicine. He stared into the boy’s dark and glassy eyes, hand brushing his cheek.  Slowly, Newt’s breathing evened out, eyes, though still with a dark tint, his beautiful brown eyes welled with tears spilling down his pale face marred by the telltale veins of the virus. Thomas wiped them away, wanting nothing more to protect his vulnerable friend from the hostile world burning around them, wanting nothing more than to press his lips to the blond’s in a desperate kiss, to feel the hellscape around them disappear for only a moment, but he didn’t.
“Thomas, we need to get him out of here, it’s not safe.” Minho panted, glancing nervously around at the carnage. Sadly, the brunet nodded, gaze not leaving Newt, he stepped back.
“Tommy…” Newt mumbled as Minho lifted him from the ground.  Thomas was about to loop his arm around the boy but in a flash, he remembered Teresa announcing over a speaker system. She had a cure.
Newt could be healed.
Thomas spun on his heel, pushing himself towards WCKD’s skyscraper.
“Thomas what are you doing!?” He heard Brenda scream, but he didn’t turn around. He needed to get the cure. He needed to save Newt.
He slid into a corridor, racing towards a staircase and praying he was going the right way until a familiar figure stepped in front of him. He ripped his handgun from the holster, aiming at Ava Paige. She stared at him, an unreadable expression across her features.
“Could I have saved him? Newt?” He stammered out, not believing his own words from his mind that was going a mile a second. He knew it was a facade in an attempt to have an advantage, to see if it was a lie, but the thought of Newt actually dying struck him with a wave of despair, tears flooding his eyes and tumbling past the useless attempts to keep them back.
Ava’s eyes changed, a look of sorrow, a look of guilt, knowing that this could of been avoided. She opened her mouth to respond, but the crack of a bullet being fired cut her short as it sent her falling the the ground. Janson stood with a maniac look behind her, Thomas stumbling backwards in shock. Janson tsked, stepping over her body as if it wasn’t there, gun leveled at Thomas’s head.
“What a shame your little blond friend is dead. Maybe you’ll join him soon.”
The man lurched forward, pricking the side of the brunet’s neck with something and he was attacked with sudden exhaustion, limbs feeling like they’ve been replaced with bags of lead.
“W-what did you do…?” He groaned, sinking to the floor.
“But not yet, we still need you.” Janson continued, sick grin spreading across his features. As darkness creeped across his vision, Thomas prayed Newt and his friends were able to get away.  He hoped with every fiber of his being, even as his mind slipped away from his control