What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 3

The floor was freezing. It took a lot of my willpower to keep myself from shivering, having opted to sleep on the ground rather than the one chair I was provided with. The Slammer, it turned out, was the Glader's form of a jail cell, far away from where the rest of them slept. There were only proper walls on three sides and the bottom of the fourth - the rest of this last wall was made of cylindrical wooden beams, acting as bars and a window to the glade. Now that night had come over the courtyard, the whispers were eerie and the silhouettes of the trees even more disturbing.

Alby had locked me in only minutes before, but I was unsure of how I was supposed to last a few more seconds, let alone the whole night. In an uncomfortable position, with no source of heat, on an empty stomach, the thought of sitting here alone all night made me want to retch. Perhaps the 'creators' would come back and take me away, after all.

"Hey."

I inhale sharply, jumping out of my own skin. Someone had made their way over whilst I had forced my eyes shut and curled into a ball to conserve heat.

"Who is it?"

"It's Minho, and Newt."

I feel myself relax a little, just making out their figures in the darkness beyond the bars. I sit up a little straighter, still hugging my legs to my chest. "Hey guys."

They both kneel down to look down into my cell, and I hear Newt speak. "Tried to get you more food, but the kitchen's locked. Got you this all the same." He leans forward to hand me a water bottle through the beams, and I take it gladly.

"Leave that in here for any longer and it'll be cold enough to use as a compress for your bruise," I state before taking a sip.

Newt chuckles, mumbling a thanks, but Minho is just confused. "Bruise?"

"Strictly between us three, greenie here is a lot tougher than she looks."

Even though it's dark, I can see him smile. "Beat him up, did you?"

"Just a little. He scared me," I say, high-fiving Minho through the bars.

"Yeah, Newtie here is shucking terrifying," he laughs.

"Are you two forgetting that I'm here?" Newt frowns. "Or have I just met the most formidable, sassy pair in history?"

"I've only known him for a few hours!"

"A few hours too many, more like. Together, you two will be unstoppable, I can already tell. And I'm already worried about the consequences."

I fall against the back wall, unable to contain my giggling, and Minho is in fits of laughter outside. "Sshhhh! You'll wake everyone up!" I say within breaths.

Quietening down, Minho agrees with me. I can still hear his faint laughter as he says goodnight and walks away.

"Sure you'll be alright?" Newt asks, and I can hear a trace of worry in his voice.

"I'll be fine."

"Give me your hands," he demands.

Reluctantly, I stand up and push my freezing hands outside the cell. He takes them in his and immediately warmth spreads in shoots from my fingertips. "You're going to freeze!" He shout-whispers.

"I said, I'll be fine," I say adamantly, not quite believing myself. I go to take my hands away, but he keeps holding on. "Newt? Would you mind if I had my hands back?"

"Sure, sorry," he mutters awkwardly.

"D'you really think the creators might come back for me?"

Silence. "I'm not sure."

I calculate my next words. "I'm scared, Newt."

"You've no reason to be. You've got us, all of us. We're on your side, we've all gone through exactly the same thing. Don't worry."

I sit against the stone bank, head leaning against the wooden bars. I can feel newt sitting against the bars on the other side. "I want to remember," I whisper.

"Is that the first thing you realised? When you came up in the Box?" Newt asks quietly.

"It felt... it felt like I had been drowning. I couldn't breathe. And then...yes. Then I realised. And it scared me, it still does. I don't want to know what other power these people possess if they can take memories so easily."

He sighs. "It's always the same story. But the rest of us... we just panicked. You're stronger than that. I can tell you're trying to think it through."

I smile, forcing myself not to blush at his adorable accent, and stretch the silence for longer before eventually speaking up. "Goodnight, Newt."

"Goodnight."

Assuming he left, I curl into a ball on the floor, hands tucked under my armpits for warmth. After hours of restlessness and chattering teeth, my mind slowly drifts away as I realise I never heard Newt's parting footsteps.