Night Visions (TMR) (Newtmas)

01 (*)

"Get him a bed, get him to sleep," barked Alby, glancing at Thomas one last time before turning on his heels and leaving. Like sheep following a shepherd, most of the crowd followed suit, and soon Thomas was left alone with Newt, who rubbed his nape and sighed.

"Good ol' Alby," he sighed. "Always the bloody life of the party. Well, Greenie, come. Gotta get you a place somewhere around." When he realised Thomas wasn't listening, he raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers right under Thomas' nose. "Hey. Talking to ya here."

"I'm Thomas," Thomas answered, looking at him in the eye.

"What?"

"I'm not him or ya. I'm Thomas."

Somehow, his chest felt tight. He looked away, chewing on his lower lip. The new situation was beginning to sink in slowly, and he didn't like it at all. He wanted answers, or at least something that could ease the growing pressure inside his chest. Such as knowing the reason why there were kids living in a walled prairie, what had he done to end up stuck with them or why Newt had looked at him as if there were spiders hanging from his noseholes.

"Till the next greenbean comes up, you're the Greenie." Newt looked at him, and shook his head. "Look, what you're feelin' we've all felt. We've all had First Day, come out of that dark box. Things are shuckin' bad, they are, and they'll get much worse for ya soon, that's the truth. But down the road a piece, you'll be fightin' true and good. I can tell you're not a bloody sissy."

They weren't the words Thomas would've asked for, but they helped anyway. As they walked towards a massive buiding, he breathed deeply. "Thanks, I... Guess." He rubbed his shoulder. "Newt, right?"

"Yeah, Greenie. And you made it bloody clear you're Thomas." Newt smirked, shaking his head. "Don't wanna stalk, but I have to ask you. Have I... Do we know from before? Ya rang a bell when you sprouted from the Box."

"So that's why you stared at me?"

Newt ducked his head and shrugged. "Yeah."

It took a few moments to find the right words. Thomas fumbled through his mind for a memory, anything to explain why Newt had felt familiar as well, but found nothing. Only emptiness and a disgusting feeling down his throat. "Don't know," he finally admitted through gritted teeth. "Could be. Not sure."

"Hmm."

None spoke any more. Above their heads, Thomas saw that the sky was already getting a darker shade of blue, which most surely meant he wouldn't get any answers until the Tour first hour in the morning. Then Newt stopped before the wooden building Thomas had seen from afar, and opened an arm in mock exhibition. "Here we are, Greenie. Ya'll be fine with Chuckie. Stay here, I'll be right back—"

Then a hair-rising scream pierced the air, echoing all over the place. Startled, both boys jumped. Thomas tasted the metallic flavour of blood in his mouth, and right after came a throbbing pain in his tongue. Newt cursed, brows knit in concern.

"Shuck it," he muttered, stomping on the floor. "Find Chuckie, tell him he's in charge of your sleepin' arrangement. Sorry, Greenie, but I gotta go. Seems the bloody Med-jacks can't handle that boy ten minutes without needin' me." Then he kicked Thomas' foot slightly, turned and ran inside the building, leaving him alone. Something clicked above his head, a metallic glimmer running across the branches of the several trees that flanked the building.

With a wide smile plastered on his face, the pudgy boy from before popped out of nowhere and grabbed his hand enthusiastically. "Beetle blade," he said cheerfully. Thomas jolted to the side, nearly dragging the kid to the floor. Shy, he let go of Thomas, but shook his head and collected himself quickly. "That was one of them beetle blades," he repeated, pointing to the top of the tree. "Won't hurt ya unless you're stupid enough to touch one... Shank."