Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

THE END | that's a promise

"Who did this?" He asked, glancing up at his friends' weary faces.

"Janson," Thomas said quietly.

Anger unlike anything Newt had ever felt before boiled in him; he felt his heartbeat quicken as he knelt there, fuming.

Janson shot Rosalind. And now she was dying because of it. Newt wanted to find Janson and tear out all his limbs, to make him suffer for what he had done.

A long time passed before the doctor was finally done. She dusted her clothes and stood up, swinging her medic bag over her shoulder.

"She'll be fine," she assured Newt. "She just needs rest."

She walked away, probably to check on other injured people. Newt's legs were aching from kneeling down so long, but he didn't want to do anything that might hurt Rosalind. Her breathing had even out a little, but her face was still twisted in pain.

Newt kissed her forehead gently. He knelt there for a long time, ignoring everything that was happening around him. No way was he going to leave Rosalind's side.

After a while, exhaustion finally took over and his head drooped, his eyes shutting as he fell asleep.

-

Dawn broke through by the time Newt woke up. His legs were numb and every part of his body was sore with pain.

He rubbed his tired eyes and glanced down; Rose was still asleep. She laid on his lap, eyes closed, her face dusty and tear-streaked. Newt figured he didn't looked much better.

He looked up and glanced around him; The Right Arm base was completely and utterly destroyed. Tents laid in broken heaps, trucks were turned over on their sides, and people were sitting or lying around, looking hopeless. Newt nearly retched when he spotted the bodies on the ground laid in rows, cloths covering them.

He heard the crunching of pebbles and sand grains behind and glanced back. Thomas was standing behind him, looking worn-out. His dark hair was tousled to one side and eyebags hung heavily from his eyes.

"Is she okay?" He asked, nodding to Rose.

"Yeah," Newt said quietly. "She'll be alright."

Thomas heaved a sigh and sat down next to him. They sat in compionable silence for a while, listening to the grim chatters of people around them and the soft crackling of fires burning.

Newt was about to ask where Minho was when he remembered that the black-haired boy was no longer with them.

Newt sighed, picking at the ground. The optimistic side of him was relieved Minho wasn't dead - but he knew that whatever WICKED planned to do with him couldn't be good. Newt missed his friend already.

And Minho wasn't the only person he missed. Aris and Sonya had been taken away as well; he could only imagine the amount of pain Harriet and Felix were through right now. And Teresa - oh bloody hell, that traitor.

Newt refused to believe she felt any remorse about betraying them. Deep down in his heart, he knew Teresa truly was genuinely sorry and that she had good intentions when she called WICKED over, but anger clouded his judgement and he felt hatred bubble up towards the girl.

Because of Teresa, innocent people had died. Vince had lost Mary, one of the best doctors in The Right Arm, all because Rat Man and Ava were cruel enough to shoot her without any solid reason. Minho, Sonya, Aris and countless other people, all the people they loved - all snatched away from them.

Newt thought about Ava asking Rosalind to join her, to help WICKED find a 'cure', and how he actually thought Rose was going to join them. He remembered how shocked he was, how he felt his heart breaking when she was about to accept Ava's hand. And then she had punched her in face.