"I'm not going into Denver." Newt has his stubborn voice on, but it doesn't hide how much the words hurt him to say.
"Neither am I. Find that doctor and get the stuff out of your heads," I say, standing by Newt. "We'll be here waiting for you."
"But-" Thomas tries to say. Minho grabs his shoulder and pulls him back slightly.
"Leave them, Thomas." His voice is gentle, and I'm thankful that he's decided to calm down. It's strange having Minho as the voice of reason, but we need him. Thomas doesn't understand.
"I'm not going into that city and infecting everyone," Newt sighs. "You're immune, you can't carry it to innocents. But I could, so I'm not going."
"Ash-"
"Don't even try, Tommy." Newt's eyes flash slightly, a warning. "She does what she wants, don't try to change her mind."
"As long as we have," I murmur under my breath, and he takes my hand, giving it a squeeze.
"Don't have too much fun," Minho says, but his smile doesn't reach his sorrowful eyes. He understands better than he lets on, and he hates the fact that they might not see Newt again.
"Don't take too long," I say, glancing at them all in turn. Thomas, still looking stricken, Minho, hiding his pain, Brenda, strong but empty inside, and Jorge, chasing his role as Brenda's protector at the expense of all else.
I guess we're all running after our goals, trying to flee the parts of ourselves that we don't like, the parts that were grown for survival and ripped away our humanity.
Surprisingly, Minho pulls me into a tight hug before they leave.
"We'll be back as soon as we can," he says, and I can tell it's killing him. Losing Newt is destroying us both. I'm sorry he has to go, but we can't afford to have WICKED control him. They need to find the doctor that left WICKED.
"We'll be fine," I lie, and they leave the Berg in single file.
It's colder without them. Newt and I stand in silence for a minute, and I can feel the dread heavy in my stomach. If we were still doing things it would be easier to ignore the elephant in the room, but now there's nothing for us to do except face it.
He starts to hum, and I look up at him.
"Can you sing?" I ask. I don't know this tune, and I want to know every song that he does. I want to be closer to him.
He looks away. "It's not cheerful."
"I don't care."
Newt smiles a little as he exhales. "Fine." Then he starts to sing, and I lose myself in the words.
I came here for sanctuary
Away from the winds and the sounds of the city
I came here to get some peace
Way down deep where the shadows are heavy
I can't help but think of you
In these four walls my thoughts seem to wander
To some distant century
When everyone we know is six feet under
When all of our friends are dead and just a memory
And we're side by side it's always been just you and me
For all to see
When our lives are over and all that remains
Are our skulls and bones let's take it to the grave
And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms
I'll be buried here with you
And I'll hold in these hands all that remains
I don't want to rest in peace
I'd rather be the ghost that annoys you
I hope you can make me laugh
Six feet down when we're bored of each other
A match is our only light
It's day of the dead and I'm Indiana Jones here
These coins sit upon our eyes
Pool our funds and pay the boat together
It is a dark song, but I'm drawn to it. A match is our only light...
A smile tugs at my lips. "Newt? I give you full permission to be the ghost that annoys me."
He rolls his eyes. "Very funny. Make jokes about the dying guy." His tone is teasing, though, and I step closer, hugging him tightly.
"How long do you think you have?" I ask, needing to be certain. The mood between us instantly drops, but he doesn't loosen his arms.
"I don't know. I guess I'll probably still be fine by the time they get back, but... if they spend more than a couple of days... who knows." Then his eyes meet mine, and he's staring at me so intensely it's almost frightening. "Promise me, Ash. Promise me that if I have an episode and try to hurt you... swear you'll stop me."
"Newt..."
"I can't," he says, his voice breaking with desperation. "I can't handle the image of coming to myself covered in your blood. Don't let it happen. Please stop me. Don't let me wake up if I'm going to just find you dead or hurt. I would rather die than be the one to hurt you. Promise me, please. Please, Ash."
He's asking me to do what he could not. It's on me, now. He wants me to agree to finish it in the end of it all. He's asking me to turn against the one I love and destroy him.
"Okay," I say. "I will."
His eyes fill with mingled sorrow and relief. It hurts to see how grateful he is for my words.
I promise away my last shred of humanity. I agree to sacrifice the final part of me that is not a machine made from cold revenge and splattered blood. I swear to cut away the ties to a girl who was once capable of gentleness.
But there is one thing I can cling to. "But not until I have to."
Maybe, just maybe, I won't be the one to kill him. Maybe I won't have to.
And yet, we both know.
There's a reason I said "until" instead of "unless."
~~
A/N: I know I say every Bastille song is one of my favorites, but Skulls has a *very* special place in my heart, which is part of the reason I quoted it in this chapter.
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World Gone Mad (TMR fic 3)
FanfictionWiping Ash's memory was a mistake. As she slowly begins to piece together her old life, all her lost anger returns. If her life is falling apart, she'll make sure to set the world on fire with her. But will her focus on revenge destroy what good is...
