If We Wake Tomorrow: A Newtmas Fanfic

Part 1

Thomas:

Homestead tilted, throwing everyone to the left side of the room. The grievers whirred and clacked, their spikes tearing through wood and glass as they made their way up the southern wall. In the room with Thomas were several gladers, including Newt, Jeff and Clint. A sense of dread coiled inside everyone's hearts.

A griever was just outside.

Thomas huddled next to Newt, shoulder to shoulder, and the place where they touched tingled. His back was pressed against the opposite wall to the outside where a griever lay in waiting. There was silence, and Thomas's breath caught in his throat. Homestead creaked again, and he threw him hands over his head as rubble rain down on them.

His heart beat so fast he thought it might burst. He was so scared, but not for himself. A secret he had been keeping for a long time now, was his care for Newt. But not just care, he might even think it was on the verge of... love. If he got hurt, Thomas didn't know how he would cope.

Just hours before, he had woken from the changing and convinced all the keepers to make break for it via the griever hole. We should have gone tonight, he thought, but it was too late. The grievers had come to claim another victim, just as Gally had foretold.

And now, it might be one unfortunate glader in this very room. And as he was thinking this, an awful metal arm burst through the window they were facing. There were shouts and cries as everyone threw themselves to the right, trying to avoid the searching pincers. But one boy was too slow, and he was yanked away by his arm, screaming for help, eyes desperate.

"No!" shouted Newt, jumping to his feet.

"Newt!" shouted Thomas, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back as he tried to grab one of the boys flailing arms. The griever retracted, taking the howling glader with him. "He's gone Newt. I'm sorry, he's gone." Newt slumped, eyes squeezed shut. The wails cut off suddenly, and the blonde haired boy in front of Thomas let out a small moan. "Come on, Newt! Come on!" Everyone was filing out of the room, shoving others out of the way in their desperation to get downstairs and outside. The griever jumped off the building shoving it backwards. Homestead would not hold up for longer and if they didn't get out soon they would be crushed to death under all the wood and rubble. "Newt," he begged. If it would have made the boy come with him, he would have gotten down on his hands and knees and kissed his feet. "I know it hurts, but we have to go. Please, Newt, please."

But the boy just stood there, still and unmoving. "Please, Newt! Come on!" He grabbed Newt's shoulders, but Newt pushed them off.

"Go on, Tommy. Go, get out of here."

"No! Not without you," said Thomas. He couldn't leave Newt here, with him beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and his shining golden hair and deep, rich voice. His heart ached watching him stand there, stunned by grief. Thomas himself had never talked to the taken boy, but Newt knew everyone in the glade, so every death was a blow to him. He put his hand on Newt's shoulder again, but more softly. "Come on, there's nothing you can do now," he said gently.

"I told you to bloody leave!" Newt shouted suddenly, rounding on Thomas and shoving him so hard in the chest that he fell to the ground.

"And I told you to come with me!" he screamed back, just as angry. "We need you if we want to get out of here, Newt! How could you leave all those boys waiting outside, waiting for your leadership?" Thomas took a deep breath, and realised his eyes were shining with tears. "How could you-" he chocked up. "How could you leave me?"

Newt's eyes woke up, the stark reality obvious in them. He pressed his mouth into a hard line and nodded. Thomas sighed with an amount of relief he didn't think possible. He grabbed Newt's hand tightly and Newt squeezed back, pulling him up. They looked up as roof rattled; it was about to go.

The next things that happened where like a dream to Thomas:

A wooden beam came loose, right above him. He tried to move out of the way, but his feet were rooted to the ground. Newt shouted his name and before Thomas could tell him not to, he leaped forward and shoved him out of the way.

Then the dream turned to a nightmare as a side of the beam struck Newt's forehead.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.