In The Morning I'll Be Better// newtmas

20

Newt's POV:

As I walk down the corridor toward the medical room, I try to push what Ratman called me to the back of my mind. I know it's just a word but when it's maliciously directed toward you, it hurts more than I physical injury. I know now that I'm going to be haunted by that word for a long time to come. 

When I enter the medical room, I see Thomas sitting on the infirmary bed, and realise to my distress that I'd pushed him to the fringes of my thoughts as well. That makes me feel sick.

Thomas doesn't look like he's tried removing the blood on his face despite the disinfectant wipes in his hands but I try not to worry as I approach him. He ignores me and that only makes me worry more. What if Thomas is really hurt? The nurse doesn't seem concerned so I guess I shouldn't be worried as well. Instead, she sees me and rushes over, clutching more wipes.

"Another one," she says, "I don't know what's going on but it looks like you've been struck with something multiple times. It's strange. Will you tell me what's happened? Thomas is refusing to speak."

I just shake my head, more focused on Thomas not speaking than I am answering the nurse's question. The nurse huffs, handing me the wipes and moving back over to her desk, mumbling under her breath. I ignore her and walk over to Thomas. As soon as he sees me, he looks away and stands, walking toward the door before I even have a chance to say hello. He's once again gone before I've moved an inch.

I run out after him but he's not even in the carpeted hallway anymore. How he moves so fast I don't know but I jog down it, worry eating me up.

Before long, I find Thomas in the same corridor as the bathroom we were caught in but now it's full of students and I realise it's already lunch. He's got his locker open, rummaging for something in a distressed way like he's being rushed. He must have been giving attention to his face as he walked as most of the blood has been removed but red and tender lacerations streak across his cheeks just like mine, so a few people stare at us.

I walk up to him, ready to rant about how Ratman is a bloody dickhead and we should go to the police no matter what he told us. Yet, when Thomas sees me, he glares at me as if I'm the one that spent the last hour hitting him with the cane. Then Thomas speaks and my jaw drops.

"Go away!" Thomas says, "Leave me alone!"

I'm taken aback. What's wrong with him?

"You can't tell me you actually believe those ridiculous words Ratman made us say? How wrong they are?"

Thomas doesn't say anything to that but he just frowns, obviously torn about something said. I step forward, thinking that means he's okay and not following Ratman's words, and look closer at his wounds. They really do look painful. They're the same colour as the red streaks on his tie and the same width as my finger. I don't know how he tolerated so many strikes but the least I can do is ease his pain. I take a risk on behalf of saying 'fuck you' to the school and lean in, placing a hand behind Thomas' head and placing my lips against the raw skin just above his jawline, gently kissing.

I've barely done anything when I'm forcefully pushed away, knocking into someone next to us.

"Get away from me!" Thomas shouts and the hallway goes pin-drop silent. If people hadn't heard the rumours from earlier or witnessed what had just happened, they certainly know now.

"Tommy, what's wrong with you? You can't seriously be ready to accept what Ratman said and carry on as if nothing had happened between us. We have to do something. This can't be all-"

"Shut up!" Thomas snaps, spinning on his heel so that his face is in mine, "Did you feel anything in that white room? Did you feel any of those strikes? This can't go on. It's not worth it."

My jaw drops quite literally.

"Not worth it?!" I shout, "How's what we've got not worth it?"

Thomas' face softens slightly from the anger, revealing a pained expression and my heart suffers. "I can't take that pain again. Never again. What we have isn't worth that pain. That humiliation. That torture!" Thomas spits, the temper returning. "I'm sorry, Newt, but I just can't."

"The fuck you can't, Thomas! That's why we need to go to the police. Ruin what Ratman has built and get back what we have. I can't do this alone."

I step forward again after my stumble back and reach to take Thomas' hand. He doesn't like that.

"I said get the fuck away!"

Tears are starting to sting my eyes. How can he act like this? After all the ups and downs we've been through he should know better than to give in so easily. Doesn't he remember how it felt this morning in the bathroom when everything finally felt complete in the world?

"Tommy, please be strong and help me! I know you can." I beg, the tears finally starting to trickle down my face.

"It won't work, Newt! The world hates what we have. Isn't that obvious in everything that we've been through? Just accept it and move on!"

Thomas slams his locker, making the crowd of spectators that have grown in numbers to jump. I'm too numb to notice the bang. Everything I've worked so hard to get is crumbling away as soon as I can stand on it. The world feels like it's collapsing around me and I'm suffocating. Then I realise I generally am. My throat feels tight from shock and each breath is laboured.

Thomas is crying as well now but despite the tears, his face is all anger. He glares at me but deep in his eyes, I can see the pain he's hiding.

"Plea- please, Tommy. Help me fin- find a way out of thi- this situation." I plead between sobs, "I love you."

Thomas' lip quivers and tears trace their way from his eyes but his face remains scrunched in resentment and I can no longer tell who it's directed toward.

"I can't do it, Newt," Thomas whispers, his voice shaky. "I can't."

He turns to leave and I reach out to hold him back, hug him and never let go, but he just shakes me off.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" he shouts and storms away through the crowd, leaving me there all alone in amongst hostile faces.