Shucked Up || Newtmas AU

7☂ choke

I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself
But you know that I could crush you with my voice
Stood on my roof and tried to see you forgetting about me
Hide the details I don't want to know a thing
________
Newt
________

Bang.

The door shuts right in my face.

The sound acts like an explosion in my mind, releasing all these new questions and thoughts everywhere.

What was that for?

What did I do?

I scroll through my recent memories with Thomas, yet this one still hits me like a train.

The kiss.

Maybe Thomas didn't want to be kissed?
He got bloody Doctor Paige to move him, because he's scared  I'll kiss him again.

I'm usually good at reading people- was I wrong last night?

What have I done?

The only person who ever gave a single shuck about me in this place, is scared of me.

Who kisses their straight best friend?
Especially one who's an unstable schizophrenic.

Well, I guess, I have.

Who even is Teresa anyway?

My head starts to ache, thinking over all these questions.

The only thing that seems to be clear through the smoke is that I'm a freak.
A hopeless freak.

-two weeks later-

"Newt! Newt!" Thomas hisses, sitting on the plastic chair beside me, it was our group therapy session.

About a week ago, Thomas started talking me again.
Despite I haven't talked to him.

I don't want too.

I'm not in any rush to make friends since he slammed the door in my face, shattered the concrete walls of isolation I'd spent a year working on.

"Shank! Newt!" Thomas prods my arm, his tactics proving ineffective as I rest my chin in my palm, staring at the floor.

I'd gone two weeks without talking, a record for me. Quite proud of it, to be honest, in a small sad victorious way.

Later that day, after dinner we always have one hour to 'socialise' with other patients.

But since I have no friends, I sit in my room, staring at the wall.
Who'd want to be my friend anyway?

My peacefulness is disturbed by a knock at the door, sighing as I heave myself to my feet, I trudge to the door.

I wince when I see the face on the other side.

Thomas.

"Hey, Newt." He smiles sadly, rubbing the back of his neck.

He's been crying, I can tell by the red rings around his eyes, his face was slightly patchy too.

Crying over me?

"Can I come in?" He glances from the floor up to me, his eyes wide.

I take a step back from the doorway, indicating he could come in.
I'm not going to break my record of silence now.

I sit on my bed, Thomas sitting down on the other one, he shuffles along, patting the space beside him.

He's not talking to me.
He's not alone.

It's that bloody Teresa again.
Who the shuck is she?
His imaginary friend?

Unlike the other patients, I haven't actually read Thomas' file yet.

I stopped myself.

The files that are kept securely in the locked up drawers behind Doctor Paige's desk.
Those files.

Have I read my own?
Yes. It makes me look insane.

I plan to burn it, sometime.

"Newt?" Thomas cracks the silence, his voice shaking.
He's shaking.
He's not scared of me is he?
He's scared of her?

"Newt, I'm so sorry." Thomas finally breaks, tears begin to fall from his eyes, his lips trembling.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I was, trying to protect you. Honest. I love you, please let me back in your life. Please." He sobs, wrapping his arms around himself.

I felt myself being brought to tears by his state, by the words leaving his mouth.

"It's okay, Tommy. It'll be okay. Just please don't put me through that again." I bring myself together, surprised at my own voice, since I haven't spoken in so long.

Thomas and I meet in the centre of the room, holding each other tightly.
His arms hung loosely around my neck, as mine are wrapped around his waist.

Just leaning on each other.

I never want to let go.

Never, ever, ever.

Thomas suddenly freezes in his place, like he's gone into shock.

"Tommy, you okay?" I furrow my eyebrows together, dropping my hands from around his waist.

His arms stay in place around my neck, yet they move closer, changing from a sign of love to a sign of anger.
Thomas grips his hands around my throat.

"Thomas!" I gulp, breathing becomes more difficult while he slowly tightens his grip.

"Teresa! Stop! No! Please!" Thomas' face streams with tears as he suffocates me.
He's totally unaware.

The edges of my vision blur into darkness, each breath becomes shorter.

"Thomas!" I croak, yet he isn't letting go.

"Teresa! You're hurting him! Stop! I love him! Don't hurt him! Hurt me instead!" Thomas practically screamed, his eyes focus to the left of him, whereas his hands are somewhere else.

Soon I find myself unable to breathe.

As the darkness become warmer, safer and inviting.

Thomas' hands surprising let go of me, letting me crash to floor.

My head slamming the wooden floor is the last I remember.