Thomas-brodie Sangster/Newt And Robbie Kay/Peter Pan Imagines

Newt x Reader: Cry For You

After letting out an exhale, he grabs my elbow and pulls me to get moving. As doing so he pulls the sheet over us, I take hold of one side and we start running.

Timeskip

We find ourselves inside a warehouse in a small city, very rundown and seems to have little electricity. Half the boys fell asleep the minute they got here, that is until we're attacked.

They aren't cranks who attack us, instead they're men with guns and bo-staffs. Minho takes out half of them, leaving the rest to the half of us who've actually woken up.

I fight off two middle aged men, one with a staff and the other a pocket knife. I easily take them out by grabbing on the guy's staff and using his force against mine as I jump up and kick the other guy, rendering him unconscious. Then I grab his knife and slide under the man's feet. Giving him a quick stab. He falls to the ground.

I give a sound of appreciation. "Woah." I hear Frypan behind me.

I crouch down and pull out the knife, "Quickest way to a man's heart: through the fourth and fifth ribs."  I smirk at him.

"Something tells me you shouldn't have done that." Thomas mutters.

"Welp, would've been great to know that before I killed twenty-five of them." Minho crosses his arms. But suddenly a boot kicks him to his feet.

The rest of us instantly gather in a cluster, I stand in a window between Thomas and Newt. We see a Hispanic man appear from the darkness, "Well you're a special Amigo, aren't ya?" The man says as he circles Minho.

The boy stays on his knees as more men appear. "Who the bloody hell are they?" I hear Newt whisper.

"Better question, who are you and where do you come from?" The man asks as he takes place in front of the other men who have appeared.

"Actually sir, I think you mean 'better questions'..." Frypan is silenced with a glare.

"We can't really answer that..." Thomas trails off.

"What'd you mean? Are you a part of Wicked or not?"

"What? No! Of course not, um, it's a long story." Thomas shakes his head rapidly.

"Well then get explaining." One of the other men, a blonde biker looking dude, speaks up.

"I can't."

A shot is fired. The Hispanic man holds a stern face as his gun aims towards the missing roof. Minho, who is still on his knees in front of the group, flinches.

"Really, none of us know and-"

Another shot is fired in Minho's direction, and he senses it. But when he's not hit he shouts in a laugh, "Missed me sucka!"

"No I didn't," the man zeros in on me.

And that's when the pain hits in my lower stomach, I gasp. My knees immediately buckle and I find myself falling with a groan.

"Shit!" I hear someone yell as they wrap their arms around me and I'm pulled to someone's chest.

"Okay okay! Just let me explain everything, in private!" I hear Thomas yell. Then, I feel my neck give out and all my other senses give in as well.

I must've veared in and out of conscious for sometime. But all I know is each and every time I'd wake up in the same arms, the same voice whispering in my ear. Sometimes it sounded harsh, sometimes it sounded caring, and once or twice it sounded sad. As if sobs were being hidden behind it.

This time I woke up to a bright light shining in my eyes. It looks like the ceiling of a facility and I can hear a heart monitor next to me. I groan in the pain and suddenly a figure jumps up. "She's awake!" A British voice calls.