𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 - 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏 𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘌

25 ~ back

I shuddered; it would still be difficult for me to get the image of the ghostly hand reaching for me out of my head.

"What about the Bliss? Did we lose any of it?"

Spitfire smiled slightly. "We have it. I think it's all in Brenda's backpack." He sighed. "You know, I used to doubt that your boyfriend was savable. But now, after all the work we've done – after everything you've done – I think he'll live."

I smiled right back at him. "I think he'll live, too. I have to think it, or else I wouldn't be able to take these risks." I closed my eyes, suddenly very tired. My clothes were still damp and sticking to my skin, and I couldn't stop shivering. My bones were still chilled. None of these things kept me from laying my head on Spitfire's chest and letting the pattern of his footsteps lull me to sleep.

"We're back," Spitfire hummed, the vibration of his voice making his chest rumble, waking me.

I blinked. "No more trouble from those guards?"

"I'm pretty sure they gave up on trying to find us ten blocks ago," Spitfire grinned down at me with a white smile. His hair had dried, and his curls were beginning to fluff around his face. "Do you think you can walk now?"

I nodded. He placed me on my feet. I steadied myself for a second before taking a step – my legs were still weak but I could move them. "How much time do we have left until the raid leaves?"

I looked around at all the others. Brenda looked down at her watch. It must have been waterproof because it flashed blue when she lifted her wrist. "2 hours – It's nearly sunrise, look." She pointed down the road between two buildings. Sure enough, a pale yellow glow was making an appearance behind the mountains.

"Can we see Newt now?" Minho interrupted. I glanced at him and saw him bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxious to get moving. He had waited so long to save his friend, he didn't want to wait any more.

"Yes, let's go." I was eager, too. I wanted to see the light in his eyes; not the empty blackness of a Crank's mind.

I wasn't aware that Cranks slept, but Newt was sleeping when we arrived at his room. Even the sight gave me a small flicker of hope – if he could still do something as human as sleep, he could be normal again. He could be Newt.

"Remember the plan, guys," Thomas spoke up. He held the syringe with the Bliss inside, since we had decided that he was the most qualified to inject Newt. He was a scientist at WICKED, after all. When we had brought this up, he was quick to announce that he didn't work with syringes and needles much at the labs.

Minho had rolled his eyes, clapped Thomas on the back, and said, "Well, one of us has to do it. Better you than me!"

And so Thomas held the syringe. The rest of us were planning to enter the room quietly. It would be best to not wake Newt, but Jorge said that Cranks had heightened senses, so he would most likely wake the second we opened the door. We were supposed to distract him while Thomas stuck him with the needle.

"Ready? Go."

The door creaked open. Immediately, Newt's head shot up. His nostrils flared, and I could see the dark glint of his eyes reflecting the light from the hall. Julian switched the light on, and I almost flinched at how horrible he looked.

He started thrashing in his restraints at the sight of us – six whole people ready to be torn into. Six people who care about him more than he knew, but all he wanted was to lick our blood off of his hands.

"Hey!" Minho screamed in Newt's direction, darting into the room. "Over here, buddy! You want me, right? You want to kill me? Huh? You want me dead, don't you?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat, knowing that Minho was screaming at the disease, calling for his best friend back. But then we all started yelling at Newt, distracting him. Out of the corner or my eye, I spotted Thomas sneaking around the room. He positioned himself behind Newt, and when he suddenly threw his head in the opposite direction, Thomas stuck the needle into his available neck.

Newt froze. He still huffed and seethed, strings of saliva dripping from his teeth. I watched desperately for the change in his eyes. They were still black, but they turned gentle. Awake. He just looked confused now.

"Newt?" I whispered. Unable to help myself, I stepped forward. He just looked up at my face. "Are you... are you back?"

He was just quiet. My courage got the better of me and I knelt before him, only a few feet from his face. He didn't show any emotion, and it was worrying me. He still looked awful – black eyes, bulging veins, mussed hair, dark circles, cuts, bruises, dirt – but he wasn't snarling. He just looked sad.

Finally, he opened his mouth to speak and I stopped breathing.

"What happened to you?"

I could've cried. His voice hadn't changed, it was only rough from misuse. It was still the voice he told me that he loved me with.

I took a shaky breath and answered. "I drowned."

His eyebrows furrowed. Every inch of me wanted to throw myself at him, touch him in ways I couldn't do for months. "Are you... okay?"

I lost it. The tears came flowing down my cheeks uncontrollably. I placed a hand on his knee and dropped my head into his lap, and just sobbed. He didn't touch me; he couldn't, since he was still restrained, but I had a feeling he wouldn't have touched me anyway.

"Welcome back, Newt," I heard Jorge say. A few other voices repeated it, and footsteps shuffled to the door. I lifted my head to see that Minho was the only person in the room. He stood by Newt's chair with a hand on his shoulder. It was the only hope he allowed himself to have.

"Back?" Newt muttered.

"Yeah," Minho answered. "You're back. A little, at least. How do you feel?"

"Asleep," Newt answered. "This must be a dream." 

A/N

Hey! Me again with another chapter! I think this one is actually good! Vote if you liked it!

- golden habit