No Better Version of Me Than When I'm With You

Chapter 8

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It wasn't until the night after that Thomas found himself lying in an empty bed. He lifted his head groggily, looking around, automatically worried about Newt. As he'd gotten used to sleeping beside someone else, he now noticed it acutely when he wasn't there beside him – especially in the state he was in. Thomas was always hyper-aware of Newt, considering the last time he'd let Newt disappear in the middle of the night he awoke only to get a call from Minho saying he was in the hospital with a broken leg and serious chemical imbalance in his brain; as well as a letter sitting on his nightstand that had been seared into his brain from the moment he'd read it. Since then Thomas was unable to get it out of his head that if he were to let something happen to Newt, it was his own fault.

Whenever Newt had his dark days, Thomas was reminded of that letter. It had been on his nightstand when he'd woken from Minho's call, sitting next to a little capsule on a worn leather string that looked like the paper had been rolled into and taken out many times over. He would reread it periodically, if only to remind himself never to let Newt feel so alone ever again.

Thomas pulled the letter out from where it sat in his drawer and carefully unrolled the paper. He scanned the familiar handwriting, the heartbreaking words, before reading it in earnest.

Dear Thomas,

This is one of the only letters I can remember writing. I'm not big on writing, you of all people know that. Well, aside from my journal. But this is important.

I want you to know that I'm not scared. Well, not of dying anyway, it's more forgetting. It's losing myself to this darkness that scares me. I feel I've lost myself already, and that's why I'm writing this. I'm stuck in the maze of my mind and I'm never going to get out. But by the time you read this, I'll have gotten out. I've made it to that place we used to talk about going to, that safe haven where we'd leave all our fears and troubles behind.

I've forgotten myself, but remembering everyone and saying their names helps remind me of the shattered fragments of my mind. Minho, Brenda, Gally, Frypan, and when we all met. It all comes flooding back. Just the little things like the taste of Gally's brew that he'd sneak into our dorms. Those nights we'd all spend on the beach, and the way the sun hit the water at that perfect moment right before it slid beneath the waves.

And I remember you. I remember the first time you walked into that class and changed my life. From the moment I saw you dive headfirst into everything you did, I knew I would follow you anywhere. We all would.

If I could do it all over again, I would. And I wouldn't change a thing. And my hope for you is that when you're looking back years from now you can say the same. Even after this, after I'm gone, I know you'll find a way to do what's right. The future's in your hands now, Tommy.

Take care of everyone for me. And take care of yourself. You deserve to be happy. Thank you for being my friend. Goodbye mate.

Newt

Blinking back the tears that never failed to sting his eyes when he read the letter, and the grief that punched him in the chest so hard he felt breathless, he got up; wandering around the dark house until he found Newt sitting on the back porch, head tipped back to look at the stars. Without thinking he joined him outside, closing the door behind him before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and resting his chin on one. "Can't sleep?" He murmured, watching the Newt's side profile flicker, the corners of his mouth turning down, and his eyes lowering until they were staring straight ahead at something in the middle distance. Newt didn't acknowledge him with words but leaned into his touch, allowing himself to be held closer until he was practically in his lap, curled sideways as they leaned against the railing.

"I'm here," Thomas breathed after a minute, "it'll be okay." His heart lurched as Newt turned in his arms and buried his face in his neck, breathing ragged like he was trying to hold back tears and failing. Hearing Newt fall apart and not being able to reassure him had him feeling helpless, but he took a breath and tried anyway, shifting so he could hold Newt's face in his hands. With only the stars illuminating them his face was nearly completely in shadow, but the tears rolling down his cheeks caught the low light and he wiped a thumb gently across his cheek to clear them. "You're not a burden, Newt, not to anyone, you hear me?" He felt Newt nod almost imperceptibly as their gazes met.

The deep hopelessness in Newt's eyes made him want to cry, and before he knew what he was doing, his only intent to help comfort his best friend, he had tilted his head to press a featherlight kiss against Newt's lips. The moment it happened he froze, common sense pushing in to remind him far too late that what he'd just done was wrong, so incredibly wrong. Guilt and something else he couldn't name started a fire in his stomach, but Newt didn't even seem to be breathing, and Thomas was afraid to open his eyes to see the expression on his face.

The moment dragged on for eternity until words began pouring out of Thomas in an incomprehensible babble, suddenly needing to break the tension that was building. "Sorry – sorry, I don't know what. . . I didn't mean. . .you and Nick – I shouldn't have – I wasn't think – sorry- "

"No, it was me, I'm sorry Tommy – I shouldn't have- " Newt interjected, and then they were both stumbling over apologies to each other until there were palms flat against Thomas' chest and suddenly the warmth from the body draped over his was gone and with it, the sense of security.

The sliding door clicked closed and Thomas briefly thought about going after him to explain the mistake he'd made, but decided against it. Newt wouldn't want to talk to him, much less be in the same room as him after what he'd done, and he didn't blame him. Why had he done that? God he was stupid. Did he always have to be so impulsive? He curled up, dropping his head to his knees, and cursing himself silently. In trying to help, something he was usually good at where Newt was concerned, he'd gone and fucked everything up.