inspired▪︎tmr gif series

[8]▫️AS THE FIRE DIES▫️newt▫️[part 1]

¤trigger warnings; blood, death/suicide.

*****

Imagine..

Newt's reaction when you are scratched by a Crank...

The sound of the crackling fire calms you. You stare into it, then watch as the smoke rises up into the night sky. The stars are splattered like tiny, sparkling paint spots. While you watch them, you can think of nothing else. Not the Maze. Not hunger, nor thirst. Not the ache in your legs from running up and down sand dunes. Not even WKCD.

Your group is all sleeping around you. Aside from Thomas, of course. He either doesn't sleep at all or is on high alert: waking up at the slightest sound.

Looking around at all of them, you smile. If there were anyone in the world you'd want to go through this hell with, it's them. These people who you now consider friends. The people who have had your back ever since you arrived at the Glade a couple of years ago.

When your eyes land on him, though... your smile grows wider.

Newt.

The glue that holds your group together, especially during those times when things get tough. The one who always seems to know just what to say. The friend that motivates us and tries to keep us all on the same page- never taking sides. There isn't anything wrong you can say or think about Newt. Except for one little thing: being that he is apparently oblivious to the fact that you are totally and undeniably in love with him.

*

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. You watch Newt sleep. He snores softly, and the chilly breeze brushes his hair from his eyes. You wonder what he could be dreaming about as his lids twitch.

A sudden gust of wind disturbs your peace. It makes you shiver, so you wrap your arms tighter around your body.

You move your right hand up to your left shoulder when you feel a stinging sensation there. When you make contact with damp, raised skin, your mouth falls open. You quickly stand up and take three long strides before sitting again, farther away from your friends.

Closing your eyes, you remove your left arm from your t-shirt. You touch the skin again to feel it. The pain makes you wince, but curiosity makes you ignorant of it. Your fingers run over what feels like three jagged lines. Taking a deep breath, you pull your hand away and open your eyes.

"Oh, no." You glance behind you upon realising you had said that out loud, but it seems that no one had heard.

You glance down at your hand. Your fingertips are red with blood. How did I not notice that I was bleeding?

*

You think back to the broken escalators you ran up a few hours ago. A Crank had grabbed you just below your neck, then Newt had kicked it back: pulling you up and running with your hand in his.

I'm infected.

You cover the scratches, glancing back at your friends once more. Tears start to form in your eyes. As they run down your cheeks, the wind picks up again. It makes them cold, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms and legs. You sniffle, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose.

The crackling fire isn't so calming any more. It feels more like a ticking clock of your remaining life.

And as I watch the fire die, so do I.

-

Final edit: 27.10.20