Love In The Scorch Newt X Reader

A Journal and A Cellar

*Edited*

It'd been three years. Three years since losing Newt and his father. Three years since I'd found the "society" but the society had fallen shortly after I arrived, now the place was overrun by cranks I use to call friends. I stayed in a cellar with a grate separating me and the cranks, I only ever left when I needed supplies and when I did leave I had to be deathly quiet. I was lucky this place was so stocked up with food and water. I spent so much time alone I began to grow accustomed to the silence, I felt like my ears were even better now. I could hear the slightest noise from above the cellar.

The only thing that kept me sane during my years of solitude was Newt's journal, I had all his things after he was taken it helped me survive. A duffle bag full of clothes, his journal, and many pictures. He kept some crazy things, and he taped them down inside his journal. He had a napkin from our first date, a feather he found on a hike, and many pictures from different times throughout his life: pictures of his mom, his dad, and me. I couldn't help but smile at all the things he kept thinking were significant. Although the journal kept me sane it made me wonder every day about him, is he alive?

I lay there in my makeshift bed flipping through his journal reading and enjoying my time as best I could when I heard voices from above the cellar. I sat up, setting the journal aside, and excitement and nerves ran through me. I climbed up the ladder to the grate lifting it above my head. I stayed silent in case they seemed dangerous in any way, but what I saw brought tears of disbelief to my eyes. In front of me searching through things captivated by a picture that'd fallen onto the ground. was a taller older Newt. "N-newt?" I spoke softly fear and disbelief sparking through me, but the eyes that looked at me were confused and I knew then, he didn't know me anymore. "I'm sorry, Love, do I know you?" he quizzed 

I fought back tears as I nodded "You saved my life," I told him my hands shaking. "Who are you?" I girl with brown hair asked me "I'm (Y/n), his girlfriend," I said nerves running through me, but even though I was beyond nervous I couldn't look away from his deep brown eyes. "So you knew Newt from before?" a guy asks (Frypan) I nod with a slight laugh. "Yeah, he and his dad took me in after my family died from the flare," I explained, "how'd you end up here?" another asked Newt looked at me curious "Well, Newt, his dad, and I were going to meet up with the right arm. We were going to the safe haven, but WICKED somehow caught our trail. Newt had decided that if this were to happen his dad would take me and he'd be a sacrifice. What he didn't account for was that WICKED would attack his dad and me. They killed his dad and he told me to still go. I never found the right arm and I've been here ever since," I told them

"By yourself?" Newt asked sadly "I wasn't always alone there use to be others but the flare came here too," I informed him "How long have you been alone?" the girl questioned I thought for a second "Two and a half years," "How in the bloody hell did you survive that long alone?" Newt asked astounded. I couldn't help but laugh "It's cliche, but you. After you were taken I was left with your things and I found your journal and well that's what gets me through," I admit

"That's amazing," he stated I nodded finally letting a tear fall from my eyes the girl saw and hugged me causing me to laugh nervously. "I have the journal if you'd like to see it?" I told him he nodded and I lead the group to my cellar. After we climbed down Newt noticed the Polaroid pictures of us and his dad on the wall "Is this, my dad?" he asked looking at a picture of the three of us I nodded "You guys were best friends," I told him "I really wish I could remember, I'm sorry I've forgotten you," he tells me I smile up at him "It wasn't your choice and you never know the journal may help jog your memory," I say handing him the old torn up book.

I stared at him as he took the old book out of my hand and I couldn't help but put too much hope into this journal. I wanted him back so much and I tired hard just to focus that at least he was here in front of me.