𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓼𝓽 - ᴀ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ

Chapter Twenty Two - Addy

The parasites are unrelenting, but somehow I stay above the surface with Newt's body pressed up against mine. His arms, finely toned, pull me into him by the waist and gently run up and down my back. My head rests on his chest and my arms wrap around his torso, squeezing with no intent to let go. Our legs are somewhat intertwined, but his touch. His touch is exhilarating.

His heart beats beneath his heaving chest and I can tell by it's speed that he feels the same. I press my lips on his cheek and up his jaw as he rubs my back in just the right spots. My lips reach his temple and then his forehead when I stop and let my head rest on his. Our noses meet side by side and I can make out the liquid chocolate of his eyes through the darkness of the cage.

Newt's lips twitch against me. "I love you," he mutters. His voice is husky and raw from the crying and I squeeze him tighter.

"I love you too. So much. I love you so, so much."

"Don't scare me like that ever again, you hear?" Newt lectures in between kisses. "I can't lose you like that again. Stay with me. Please."

A forlorn chuckle escapes my lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. I love you. I..."

Words leave me stranded, but Newt fills in. He pushes up onto his side, spinning me onto my back to loom over me. I'm acutely aware of Thomas and Minho huddled off to on side to give us some semblance of privacy, but when Newt starts to speak again, my focus is solely on him.

"My heart's been broken and your's has been bruised, but none of that matters so long as I end up with you. I've loved you while you were lost to the Flare and I'll love you for the rest of my life. I'll go where you go, I'll chase every last one of your dreams, just as long as I have you by my side. I love you, Addy. I love you I love you I love you and I'll keep saying it for the rest of my life because it's true. You are my reason to live."

The beginning of a choked sob spills from my lips, but Newt stops it by pressing his own against me. With that simple action, I'm gone again, but instead of gone to the Flare, I'm gone to heaven. My legs curl around his waist and my arms around his neck, hugging him like a koala as he kisses me. And kisses me. And-

"Sorry to interrupt this... happy... reunion," Thomas speaks, clearing his throat awkwardly, "but that is my sister you're making out with and it sounds like the storm has cleared."

Newt laughs softly and we break apart, but rests his head against my shoulder and tickles my neck with gentler, less passionate kisses.

"Sounds like it?" Minho grumbles. "How can you hear anything besides that?"

I let out a strangled chuckle and hug Newt tighter to me, if that's even possible now. He responds in squeezing me back.

But they're right. The crashing thunder and howling wind has faded into a hardly audible purr. Thomas and Minho shuffle around for a moment and then the pod hatches once again. Light trickles in and illuminates my man. The sight of him so close to me splits my face into the first genuine smile in far too long.

"Get out of there, lovebirds!" Minho hollers after crawling out onto the sand. "Thomas looks like he's gonna be sick. Or throw hands. Not sure which. Oh- nevermind, it's definitely be sick."

I hear Thomas huff and then a dull thump.

"I take that back," Minho says. "I definitely meant throw hands!"

Then, softer, as though he'd turned away, he says, "Why are ya punching me? I ain't the one spitting into your sisters mouth!"

Newt grins against me in amusement while I shudder in disgust, wiping at my lips sarcastically. You can always count on Minho to ruin the moment.

"Minho! That's not helping!" Thomas' distress brings me a twisted joy. If he's concerned about me like this, he's not mad at me for betraying him. Baiting him. Maybe we can recover from it still.

Newt inhales deeply and lifts himself off of me, stepping out of the pod and stretching his hand back in to help me out. I smile up to him and try to hide the grimace that follows by brushing hair out of my face. The pressure in my head is unrelenting.

As Minho and Thomas round up the others from various pods, Newt takes my hand and I bury my face in his shoulder so I breath in his scent and not the metallic tang of blood or burnt rubbery scent of what's left of the creatures. The carnage is blackened by the lighting that struck down upon it, until it finally relented a few moments prior.

"Everyone alright?" Thomas asks, his voice laced in a mixture of exhaustion and genuine concern. Considering the circumstances, I don't think any of us will ever truly be alright, but we nod hesitantly.

"We're not dead yet!" Harriet declares from behind me. Her words, though the conviction spoken would disagree, aren't entirely true. Many of our rambshackled group look as though they wish to be and a few scatter across the battle ground, charred to a crisp. I try not to think about them.

Thomas nods, looking as green as I feel, and says, "Good that."

No one knows what to do, what to say, after that. But we don't have to. Our heads swivel in sync at the sound of a Burg whirring through the air. I squint up at the now clear sky and see it's figure growing nearer. A few people cheer as it lands, blowing waves of dust into our eyes in a plush pillowy cloud. The door falls open and a man steps out, squinting in the sun.

Thin lips? Straight nose? Narrow face? Hollow, emotionless eyes? Janson stares down at us from his perch on the Burg's doorway.

"When they said you'd all died, I'd hoped they were lying, but it seems our numbers have dwindled exceedingly. Just as they said."

No one moves.

"Curious," he continues, making his way towards us slowly, "what a coincidence that is. Care to offer up an explanation to your dear old friend?"

Minho looks ready to strangle him, and I'm afraid he will, but Thomas speaks up first.

"The storm that seemed to have slowed you down. Paired with the heat and lack of food or water. Those who didn't get struck by lightning dropped dead from easily preventable causes."

I internally moan. Stop being such a justice seeker and get on his good side, Thomas! We need the cure!

"Shame," Ratman says. His tongue flicks across his lips. The desert too dry for your highness? I think to myself. "And where did all the bodies end up?"

"Where do you think, shank?" Thomas fumes.

Ratman flares his nostrils and marches right up next to Thomas. "Is that really how you speak to your elders, Thomas? That's unacceptable. I'll get it out of you sooner or later. Just wait and see."

He snaps his fingers and men dressed in dark camo uniforms paired with thick black helmets trickle out of the Burg and quickly overwhelm our little group. A few turn to run, but most of us are too tired, too drained to resist. One of the soldiers tears me from Newt's grasp and only then do I protest, but to no avail. He twists my arm behind my back, causing me to squeak in pain, and shoves me into the back of the Burg.

We're tossed into a holding cell with a few canteens of water with a silty after taste and a few loaves of bread that we quickly dig into. From WICKED or not, food is food and we waste no time devouring the rations as we take off into the air.