EXTREME SPOILERS TO THE DEATH CURE (FROM THE MAZE RUNNER SERIES)!!!!!
Please don't be fooled by the cover, this is extremely sad.
Got inspiration from this post:
https://64.media.tumblr.com/4659265615193ad2ebd5fedc7d4a68ed/0b85027b67d0d729-4e/s640x960/e37f64ac3fde21604064d57138d29a45725f29ce.jpg
So that should be enough proof that this is going to be very, VERY sad. I cried while writing it.
But basically it is Newt's death scene with a few tweaks, and my own style.
None of these characters are mine, nor is the main story line.
Anyway, enjoy your depressing gay stuff.
"Tommy."
Time slowed and he cried out, of course all that filtered to the real world was "No, no." But he cried out. He yelled as loud as he could, at the Universe, at the ones who made it, at all the choices that lead him to this moment. At himself.
He rushed to catch Newt before he hit the floor, and slowly lowered them both down. He was still breathing, how was he still breathing? Thomas wondered if he was talking about himself or Newt.
How was Newt still breathing? But furthermore, how was Thomas still breathing? How would he ever breathe again, alone forever without his best friend.
He could feel a knife stuck in his own heart, made of the words that would--could never be said between them. The laughs they would never share, the lips he'd never kiss.
"Tommy, don't cry. Please Tommy, don't cry for me." He didn't even notice he was crying until Newt begged him not to. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, he already messed up with Newt so many times, how could he do it again?
He didn't know how the flare didn't overtake Newt by now. How he didn't turn into an unknown monster; a monster that could have been cured. Thomas guessed Newt used all the strength of his last breaths, all the strength of his last bit of life.
His best friend was cradled in his arms dying, and Thomas was sure he was dying with Newt. Everyone always told him that they don't die if you keep their memory, but how could he accept a memory when he would rather have a solid, breathing person? When it was his fault that they were no longer breathing?
"Don't you dare die on me, Newt. Don't you dare," he choked out, the sobs trying to keep it in. He knew it wouldn't change anything, knew nothing could be changed.
Newt smiled sadly up at him--all tight lips and black liquid--and Thomas broke. Or broke as much as an already broken person could. He tugged his best friend closer and sobbed into his chest.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," Newt sang choppily, as he stroked Thomas' hair. Thomas tangled his fingers in Newt's jacket. "You make me happy," his voice broke on the note, "when skies are grey." Every word, every syllable, every breath brought him closer to his last.
How could this be happening? How could he be allowing it to happen? Why hadn't someone come with the cure? Why, why, why? A million questions, a million regrets raced through Thomas' head. A million things he could have done differently; a million risks he could have refused.
"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you." Thomas couldn't help but think there was a deeper meaning behind every word he sang. "Please don't- take- don't take my sunsh-" His voice slowly faded away, and with it his life.
Thomas stayed against Newt's chest, knowing what he'd find if he left, but too scared to look. He couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't! He did.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…" He looked into the lifeless eyes of his best friend, the eyes that used to be filled with life, with love everytime he looked at Thomas. The eyes that would never be filled with anything again.
"Newt get up, get up. Please. Please Newt, we have to go, we have to save you." He sobbed back into his chest.
He heard her footsteps before he saw her. Brenda, with the cure. The cure that could have saved Newt with a little of Thomas' blood. The cure that was too late.
"Come on, Newt, please." The sobs were choking him. "Come on, Brenda's here, she has the cure. She has the cure." He whispered the last part.
"Thomas, we have to go." It was Brenda, he could already see the tears streaking her cheeks.
"No. No, we can't leave him," Thomas said, harshly.
"Thomas…"
"I'm not leaving without him!"
He felt hands pulling him up, taking him away. That's the last part of his life he remembers, at least the life worth living. He left Newt, and with Newt he left himself.
