Ghost of You | safe haven newtmas

the morning

Newt is amazed when he feels Thomas wake up beside him. The night went by quickly and slowly, some of the time spent staring at the ceiling and some talking to Thomas, letting him know he's still there.

He'd watched the sun rise too, it's been far too long since he's gotten to do that. He used to slip outside and watch it at their little camp they had made while they looked for Minho. It reminded him of the few peaceful mornings he had in the glade a lifetime ago.

Now Thomas is opening his eyes, groaning and sitting up a bit. He seems out of it; confused and still half asleep. But after a moment he tenses up, looking next to him where Newt lays.

"Newt? Are you-are you still here?" he asks, seeming panicked.

Putting his hand on Thomas' that sits on the bed in front of him, Newt smiles. "I'm here, Tommy."

It takes a few moments, but finally Thomas visibly relaxes, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay... thank you," he says, his voice groggy sounding but sincere.

Newt takes his hand away, trying to reserve himself. How long can he push this?

Thomas runs a hand through his hair and smiles.

"If Minho knew about this, I don't think I'd ever hear the end of it," he laughs.

"I can't even imagine what he'd say," Newt laughs too, thinking about the boy's jokes.

"I haven't slept like that in too long," Thomas says. Immediately after he speaks, there's a knock at the door. Thomas' head snaps up, looking at it before raising his voice. "Come in."

Fry walks in a moment after, holding a tray of food. He looks weary, staying by the door.

"Do you want this, or should I put it on your desk?" he says, looking over at the pile of uneaten food.

"I'll take it," Thomas says. Fry raises his eyebrows, walking over.

"Really?" he says, giving Thomas the tray. "You seem..."

"Yeah," Thomas says simply. "Thanks, Fry."

Frypan nods, before walking over to the trays on Thomas' desk and taking them. Newt watches Thomas look on uncomfortably as Fry piles them up and walks towards the door.

"Sorry about those," Thomas says.

"No worries, man. I'm just glad to see you're feeling a bit better," Fry says, opening the door. "Before I go, I'd go see Minho. Soon."

Thomas furrows his eyebrows at him. "Alright, I will."

Fry gives him a small smile before closing the door, leaving Thomas with his food and the best friend he didn't see sitting next to him.

"I wonder what he wants," Thomas says, starting to eat. Newt tries to think of what it could be, but then realizes it makes no difference if he has an opinion. He couldn't hear it anyway.

For now, seeing Thomas eat is good enough.

It's not long before Thomas sets out to look for Minho, Newt in tow. He could get used to following Thomas around like this. Sure, it's kind of frustrating to not be seen or heard, but at least Thomas feels him.

He walks 'til he gets to the hut he'd been sitting in with everyone else the other day, opening the door reluctantly. When he does, Newt sees Minho and Gally sitting together, both looking up immediately. They seem surprised to see Thomas, almost looking like they've been caught.

"Thomas," Gally nods, looking between him and Minho. "I'll, uh..." he trails off before getting up and walking out, passing Thomas and Newt.

"Hey," Minho says. Newt has known Minho as long as he's known himself, but yet he can't read his expression. Whatever it is, it's unnerving.

Newt turns around and finds himself going to try to close the door behind them, before remembering and looking at Thomas.

As if he felt it, Thomas walks over and closes the door, Newt moving out of his way. Afterwards, he turns back to Minho and walks toward him, Minho pointing to the seat in front of him.

"What's going on, man?" Thomas asks.

Minho doesn't answer for a moment, avoiding Thomas' eyes as he sits down. When he finally talks, it's almost a mumble.

"I want to believe you," he says.

Thomas' jaw hardens as he leans forward. "Then believe me."

"You know I can't, Thomas. It's too... you're talking about a ghost here," Minho says.

"No, we're talking about Newt. I'm telling you, he's here. He's here right now," Thomas says.

"Like in the room?" Minho asks uneasily.

"In the room," Thomas says. "Newt?"

Newt's standing in the middle of the two boys on the side of the table, looking at Thomas. Is he expecting an answer?

"Can you try to touch Minho's hand? Just for a second," Thomas says.

Newt gives Thomas a worried look. He knows he can't see, but he does it anyway. If he was Minho, he'd think Thomas was losing it too. But he'll try for him. He'd really like if Minho knew he was there too.

"Put your hand out," Thomas says to Minho. Minho reluctantly puts his hand on the table, Thomas nodding. "Alright, Newt. Uh, do your thing."

Newt shakes his head, leaning forward and putting his hand on Minho's. There's a lot riding on this one.

"I don't feel anything," Minho says.

"Be patient," Thomas says.

Newt focuses, trying to feel Minho. For some reason, it feels different. He can't put his finger on why, but it does.

"Minho," Newt says, trying to send all his energy to that one spot in the middle of his palm. "I'm still here."

Suddenly, Newt feels himself weaken significantly, like the wind is being knocked out of him.

"No, no," Newt pleas, trying to send whatever he has to Minho. "Please, Minho."

Minho's face is unchanged, and Newt's frustration only builds as his strength deteriorates. It's the kind of feeling where you're trying to remember something and it's on the tip of your tongue, only with this he's trying to feel something. It's right there, but somehow seems impossible to reach.

"Thomas, it's-"

"It'll work," Thomas says, stubborn as ever.

Newt sends his last burst of anger-fueled energy to Minho. It's everything he has left, and even pressing as hard as he is, it's not enough.

He's failed.

"Minho!" Newt tries last time before the image of the two boys in front of him gets hazy, worry and devastation flooding over him.

The last thing he hears is Thomas calling his name.