The Only One (Newt || fanfiction)

Chapter 12

My eyes flutter open to see thick trees reaching the sky. What? This isn't where I'm supposed to be.

I quickly sit up and spin around, trying to figure out where I am. As soon as I see the blanket around me and recognize the grove, I remember what happened last night. With Newt.

I lay back down with last night replaying in my head. After we had figured everything out, I felt an immediate connection to him. Like I could tell him all of my deepest secrets. Like I had known him my entire life. I probably did.

I get up and fold up the blanket, smiling when I remember how he held me. I must've fallen asleep in his embrace, because his scent is the last thing I can remember.

It doesn't take long to get out of the grove, I wasn't that deep in the woods. When I break through the tree line, I see all the gladers at work, doing their daily tasks.

I see one glader in particular, standing around the box. He looks as if he's looking for something. It's Chuck.

I start running toward him, carrying my giant, stupid, folded-up blanket. When he sees me he starts walking in my direction.

When we finally meet, he looks a little worried.

"Hey, Jeff and Clint want you in the homestead as soon as possible," he says.

"Okay... Hey do me a favor and put this away," I shove the blanket at Chuck.

He awkwardly takes it and starts to ask, "Why do you-" but I cut him off.

"Gotta go to the homestead! See ya' later!" I shout out the last few words as I start to run away. I get the slightest glance of an eye roll from him.

~

"So your odds are really good," Jeff says trying to be as enthusiastic as possible.

"And I'll probably be a med-jack?" I ask, anxiously. Being a med-jack wasn't at the top of my list, a runner was, but it's not the worst.

It had been about twenty minutes since I arrived. Apparently Clint just wanted to inform me of my results from yesterday's work.

"Well you've only tried out two jobs. You're just going to have to wait until you've tried everything to really know," Clint says.

I just nod. Almost immediately after our conversation is over, Jeff runs over to Clint and whispers something to him. Clint stares at me the entire time. They're obviously talking about me.

Clint nods his head and says, "There's someone waiting for you upstairs. Hurt his wrist this morning when you were sleeping. Just... be quiet," he tells me this with his arms crossed, staring right at me.

My first thought is Newt. The only other person that would want to see me is Chuck. Maybe Minho, but unlikely.

I slowly and quietly climb the stairs. I don't know what to expect.

Once I'm at the top I notice three visible doors. Only one of them has light seeping through the cracks. I decide to look in it first.

I tip-toe to the door and peek in. No Newt. No anyone.

I turn around to the second door which is across from the one I just checked. I peek through to again find Newt's absence.

One last door. He has to be in there. I place a small hand on the cold door knob. Why am I so nervous?

I slowly turn it, and peep open the door. A sleeping blonde boy with a wrapped wrist lies in a small bed.

I let myself in and close the door behind me. I slowly walk up to him and sit in a little wooden chair next to the bed.

His wrist is wrapped in the same white stuff Winston's got wrapped in. But looks like it's for different reasons.

I take the bulgy wrist in my hands and look at it. No signs of blood.

I jump when Newt disturbs the perfect silence by letting out a small groan. But it doesn't wake him up.

I place a hand on his cheek and whisper his name. But he still doesn't wake up.

Before I can attempt to wake him up again, I notice that his face is sort of sweaty. I move my hand from his cheek to his forehead. His hair is sticking to it with sweat.

I get up and look around the room for some kind of cloth or rag. I notice a sink with a cabinet below it. I rummage through the cabinet until I find a blue rag. I run it under some cold water and wring it out.

I bring the cold, damp rag over to Newt and sit back in my little chair on his bedside.

I slide my fingers under the hair on his forehead, unsticking it and combing it back with my hand. Then I place the rag on it.

He seems to let out a sigh. I can't decide whether he is asleep or unconscious.

I run my fingers back through his hair, combing it out of his face and drying it from the sweat. His hair is surprisingly quite soft. I continuously run my fingers through his soft, golden hair.

~

I feel someone shaking my arm and shoot straight up.

"Huh?" I ask, frantically looking around the room. I see Newt sitting up in bed, holding a blue rag to his head. And my hand is on the pillow. His wrist is wrapped up. Oh yeah, I think to myself as I remember what happened.

I must have fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up. When I see him grinning, it makes me smile too.

"Were you unconscious?" I ask him.

"It's pretty bloody pathetic that I don't even know that; but unconscious or asleep, I just woke up with your hand in my hair," he says and laughs.

"Sorry," I laugh back, trying to hide the blushing I can feel.

"I feel like I've known you for a million years, you know that?" he asks.

"Yeah, I actually do know the feeling. Same here," I reply.

I notice a sort of uncomfortable itchiness under my sleeve near my bicep. I just decide to ignore it. But within 30 seconds it becomes a burning sensation.

"What the?" I mutter to myself and hastily take off my jacket.

"Eve?" Newt asks, questioning my behavior. But I ignore him.

I start scratching the area that hurts, but it makes it ten times worse. Like my nails are little daggers that just pried into my skin.

I let out a little yelp of pain and clench my jaw.

"Eve." Newt says sternly. He grabs my arm and investigates the area I just scratched.

It scares me when I see his eyes widen. "What?! What is it?" I ask frantically. The pain only grows.

"A tattoo. Words," he says and pulls my arm up close to his face to read them.

"Send her ba-" he starts but cuts himself off, "What?"

"What?!" I scream, "What does it say?!"

"It says, 'SEND HER BACK'." he has a confused look on his face and finally looks up at me.

"I swear that wasn't there yesterday," I say and take my arm out of his grasp. "Ouch," I say as I rub the now-tattooed area.