Ghost of You | safe haven newtmas

two days later

It happens completely unexpectedly, yet without hesitation.

When he'd shown up the next time, two days had passed. He found Thomas standing in his hut, clutching the necklace to his chest and muttering to himself. Newt could make out "please work" and "come back to me", but the rest were all in a desperate rush.

He'd come over to him quickly and wrapped a hand around Thomas', choosing the one he held the necklace in. All he had to do was remember his words. I love you, Newt.

"Tommy," Newt said, Thomas snapping his head up.

Thomas let go of the necklace and Newt could see him searching his face again.

"Newt..." Thomas trailed off softly, putting a hand on Newt's shoulder, then moving it up to sit on the spot where it met his neck.

No part of him felt weird at the gesture. He was mostly just happy to be with Thomas-to really be with Thomas. But being so close to him added something Newt couldn't put his finger on. Whatever it was, it was keeping him there, and he was grateful for it.

He wants more of that. He needs more of that.

So when the two boys close the distance, Newt doesn't feel like it's anything but right.

It'd be impossible to say who leans in first, because both of them were so quick to respond it wouldn't make a difference anyway. Newt feels Thomas' hand move around to the back of his neck to pull him closer while he kisses him, Newt cupping the side of Thomas' face with his hand.

It's beautiful and wonderful and everything Newt could possibly describe it as, his mouth on Tommy's and their bodies actually touching. He can feel the warmth and love between them grow with each passing second. It feels like a lifetime, starting soft but getting more desperate, his lips moving quickly with Newt's in perfect sync.

And suddenly it's heartbreaking.

When they pull away, Newt feels a whirlwind of emotions go through him. He doesn't seem to be alone; Thomas' expression seeming to mirror what he can imagine his looks like.

It's not a happy expression, but not a sad one either. Like they both realized the same things.

Newt hadn't thought about kissing anyone, really. No time to. But this was the first time he ever has. He doesn't know for sure about his life before the glade, but he's almost positive about this. His first kiss, and he isn't even bloody alive for it.

He's not alive. He's not even really there, is he? It's the strangest mix of right and wrong but part of him doesn't care. He won't leave Thomas.

They both seem at a loss for words, just studying each other's faces. Newt takes the time to look at Thomas. Really look at him.

The first thing he notices is his messed up hair. Second is his pink puffed up lips. Third are his eyes and nose to match. He's been crying again, and it's not hard to see, his eyes still glassy.

As he looks closer, he notices more. His eyes seem sunken in with bags around them, darkening his face. He's lost weight too, and it's extremely evident.

Newt loves Thomas, obviously, and he's always thought he was beautiful. But right now he's a beautiful wreck, and it hits Newt harder than ever.

Is he hurting, or is he helping? Thomas ate the other day while Newt was there, he must be helping, right? Nothing makes sense anymore. All that makes sense is that he can't let Thomas fall apart.

"I meant to do that the other day," Thomas says breathlessly, his eyes still searching Newt's face, most likely for a reaction.

"It was perfect," Newt says, his voice coming out almost shaky, both of their tones hushed.

"Thank you for staying," Thomas says quietly.

Newt gives him a small smile, hoping it's reassuring. "I wouldn't leave you behind, Tommy."

Thomas suddenly laughs nervously, shaking his head. "I can't believe we just-"

"Me neither," Newt laughs. "You just kissed a ghost."

Thomas' eyes darken at that, looking down. It was meant to be a joke, but Newt knows that nothing about it is very funny.

"Hey," Newt says, Thomas meeting his eyes. He grabs Thomas' hand and squeezes it, hoping it'll help. "I love you, alright? Dead or alive, remember that."

Thomas nods. "I love you too. I really do."

"Good that," Newt says, Thomas smiling at the use of the glader slang.

"If anyone was going to be calm about all this, it'd be you," Thomas says, his gaze flashing down to Newt's lips before back to his eyes. Newt pretends not to notice.

"Like I told you," Newt says. "I wasn't scared. I'm still not scared."

That might not be the truth, but Newt would never tell Thomas that. Having the flare; knowing you're going to turn into a monster and hiding it? He was terrified, lying awake at night thinking about how he would tell them, and more importantly, how he wouldn't tell them. It was a death sentence, he knew it was. He just had to push long enough to rescue Minho, and he did.

After Minho was safe, it became... easier, in a way. But in those final moments-thanking Minho, giving Thomas the note, trying to keep it together for him-he was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in the maze or in the scorch. He could feel everything slipping away, his memory, his sanity, his humanity.

Of course he was afraid. He was only... seventeen, eighteen maybe? But he had to be strong for his friends and keep them safe. They were priority. And it worked.

"That's why I need you here," Thomas says. "You're the one that can remain calm and level headed, you're the one that solves all the problems."

"No," Newt dismisses his words. "That's you. You're the leader here, not me. Maybe you needed a bit of guidance sometimes, sure, but you-"