One Wish // Newtmas

Chapter 2

Thomas's POV:

I awake feeling weird. But before I can say anything, the familiar, deep voice rings out in my head.

Hey, Thomas, can you feel that? It feels weird, but I can't place it. I've never felt like this before.

" Yeah, no kidding," I say back, telepathically. It's never good to hear the Nogi so unsettled. It's usually the darkly calm one, you know? Like those villains on TV. But I can't deny, he's right. I can feel the weird feeling.

" Maybe we're coming down with something?" I suggest, climbing out of bed.

Nah, I don't get sick. I'm a thousand years old, after a couple of hundred, you stop getting sick.

" Sure. That's cool and we all know you're old. But maybe I do?"

No, we share a body. So if I can't fall sick, you can't either.

" Good to know."

I shuffle out of my hut, blinking blearily around. No one's fully up yet, the few that actually made it out of their huts are just sitting around, eyes half-open.

" Morning," I mutter, sitting down beside Minho.

" Hey dude." Minho opens his mouth to say something else when a shout cuts him off. Sonya, Minho, Teresa, Brenda, Gally and I turn toward the sound of the shout.

My heart shudders to a stop.

A tall, blonde boy is stumbling out of the woods. His clothes hang off him, the sleeves ripped and torn. He looks so tired that I half-expect him to crumple and sleep for the next 48 hours. But that's not what causes me to freeze.

It's because I know this boy. I know him better than I know myself, if that's possible.

It's Newt.

Part of me wants to believe its him. But I've been through too much to instantly believe its him. It could be WCKD back again. Or some other unknown threat.

Hey, isn't that Newt?

I ignore the Nogi, too stunned to speak. No, that's not possible. He's dead, I know it. I mean, I don't want him to be dead, of course. It's just that I know he's dead. I saw him. I stayed by his side until his body grew cold.

Even then I didn't want to leave.

But here he is, stumbling into the Safe Haven, looking like he's been to hell and back. Maybe he has, you can never tell. The black veins that once curled across his skin have vanished, along with the knife in his chest. But before anyone else can react, I'm up and running, scrambling toward him. I have to know if it's him.

" Newt?" I ask. He looks up. His eyes are tired and weary, but they're just how I remember them. Bright green, clever. There's the spark I saw snuff out that night in the rain.

" Tommy?"

A wave of rage washes over me, so sudden and ferocious my vision turns red. I grab the nearest weapon, that just so happens to be a long knife and point it at him, my breathing shallow and rapid.

" Tell me something only Newt would know," I demand, staring deep into his eyes, searching for a change, something that'll tell me this is just another cruel joke. But all I see is him. Just purely something I can only associate with Newt.

He raises his hands on either side of his head and they're shaking. From fatigue or fear, I don't know. But he meets my gaze steadily, his eyes never leaving mine.

" You love watching the stars at night but you don't tell anyone because you think it's a girls thing. I only found out because I found you lying in the sand one night in the Scorch, staring up at the sky," he says, his voice quiet and tired, but he doesn't hesitate.