The Boy In The Box (Newtmas au)

Chapter 8

Newt's POV

"Newtiewewtie" I hear a voice through the phone. What kind of bloody klunk is this? Who would even call me at three in the morning? I answer: "Who is this?" 

"Aww, you already forgot about me?" the voice whines. Now I recognise it. Tommy. 

"Tommy, where are you?" I wait for his answer but another voice, one I don't recognise comes through. "Are you Newt Isaacs? Thomas Greene is in the local police station for being drunk in public. If you don't come get him, he's staying here." Shucking Tommy got drunk. But why? So many more questions about the boy pop in my head, but I've got to stay focused first, get him out of prison.

"I'm coming", I tell the man and hang up. While driving, the only thing I can think about is how I've only met this guy a few days ago but I'm already bailing him out of jail in the middle of the night. When I get there, the police officer makes me sign some papers and pay a ticket for getting Thomas with me. He walks me to his cell and opens it.

"You're free to go", he says to the man inside. But Thomas stays seated on the small and uncomfortable looking bench. "You didn't have to come here", he grumbles. Ouch. "Yes, I did. Now come with me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. I don't even like you." Well that hurt even more. I can only hope he's lying to me right now. I want to hold him and drag him with me, but I know I can't do that. I still have the slightest bit of pride left. I say: "Okay. Then I'll go back without you." I already start walking away when Thomas stops me: "No. Please Newt, don't go. I'll come with you. I'm sorry."

I smile and turn around. Tommy is stumbling towards me. I push him forward and we walk out of the police station. The officer nods at us, but Tommy just rolls his eyes at him. Once in the car, an awkward silence washes over us. I look at the empty road while Tommy is turned away from me, looking outside the window.

I snap out of my daze when I hear a silent sob. Is he crying? No, he can't be. Tough, fighting, leather jacket Thomas can't be crying. But my thoughts are confirmed when I see a small tear rolling over his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" No answer. Bloody hell. What can I do about this. First he was all giggly, calling my Newtiewewtie, then he was pissed at me and now he's crying.  This man is like a girl on her period or something.

However, the boy does answer my question: "I don't deserve this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't deserve you. You're too good for me." What does he even want to say with that? How can I be too good for him? He's such a wonderful person. I even believe he's too good for me.

"But Tommy, you're such a great person! How can you say that about yourself? You're great!" I exclaim.

"Me?! A good person? Please. Don't give me that fucking bullshit. I'm a terrible person!" Tommy shouts, actually making me flinch. He's scary when he's shouting. Even when he's shouting that kind of klunk about himself.

"That's a pile of klunk, Tommy. I think you're a wonderful person." He doesn't directly answer me anymore, but I do hear him mumble something about me not knowing anything, but I try to keep my attention away from that.

Instead he says: "You know, Newt, I don't even understand half of your words. What the hell does 'klunk' even mean?" I swallow. I hope I don't break when I tell him.

"It means something like poop. It's slang I made up with my friends Alby and Minho." It hurts me to talk about them. Mostly Alby, since he literally disappeared. Minho, I've come to realise, is still out there. I can still see him sometimes and talk to him. But Alby, he's gone. I'll probably never see him again, and that feels terrible. I miss him so much.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to", Tommy says, probably noticing sadness in my eyes. I thank him by sending a small smile in his direction. I really don't like to talk about it. Sometimes I'm scared, afraid that one day, Alby's face will fade from my memory. That he will completely evaporate from my thoughts, and I don't want it to happen. Even though it hurts me to think about him, I want him to stay in my head forever, for he will always be my best friend, no matter what.

After driving in silence for a while, we arrive at my apartment. I still don't know where Tommy lives, so I'll just let him stay in my house again.

"I'll sleep on the couch. You can take the bed", I tell him while dragging him to the bedroom. The guy is wobbling on his legs. I don't need anyone vomiting on me while I'm asleep. He mumbles a small thanks while I take of his jacket and his shoes. He falls down on the bed and crawls in it. "Goodnight, Tommy", I whisper, but he's already snoring lightly.

I lay down on the couch with a blanket. It's obvious how tired I am, yet sleep doesn't come. I keep thinking about what he said, about him not being good enough. It's crazy. He's crazy. How can he think that. He's such a wonderful being, and I really like him. It saddens me how that is the way he thinks about himself. After everything that has happened, I just want to be able to sleep, but his face stays in the front of my thoughts.

Questions flow through my head like a river: Why did he almost kiss me? Why did he pull away? Why did he run away? Why did he get drunk? It's so difficult to let this kid open up about himself, and it's exhausting. Nevertheless, I keep trying to get more information about him. Now you could even say he literally keeps me awake at night. 

Wondering if I'm ever going to fall asleep again, I eventually do fall asleep.

***

I forgot to update this story yesterday which completely ruined my two-daily-update I had going on lol

anywayyyy I hope you enjoy this story. I like writing it anyway and there's a lot more to come, but you'll see eventually :))) 

thanks for reading though, you're all as fabulous as Minho's hair :) x