Thomas Sangster/ Newt Imagines& GIFs

158. It's a Buggin' Girl- Part 4

When the two of you got to the Medjack's tent (which was basically like the Glade's medical tent, as Newt had quietly explained) there was nobody there. The makeshift, one roomed, building was completely deserted, but Newt didn't seem to mind.

He just shrugged and walked to retrieve some bandages from a shelf, leaving you to sit hesitantly on a bed in the center of the room. For a few seconds he rummaged around the shelves, muttering under his breath.

As he busied himself in the corner, your eyes darted around the room. From the looks of it, the entire tent was handmade. Just like the Slammer. Sticks and branches were roped together to create the skeleton, and a dusty white sheet served as a roof and four walls.

Why was everything so rudimentary here? It looked like this place was built from the ground up.

Your eyes did another pass around the room, and noticed something that made you actually gasp.

"Wh-what's that?" You breathed, eyeing the word WCKD in black, bold, letters on one of the tent's walls.

"What?" Newt turned, "What'd you say, love?"

"What the hell is that?" You raised a hand to point to the letters, and Newt faltered, "That's, that's, uh-"

You cut him off before he had the chance to explain, to give you some bullshit answer, "That's what's on my neck, isn't it?"

When he didn't answer, you pressed him again, "Isn't it?! Why is it on the tent and why the fuck is it on me?!"

"It's complicated," He said quietly.

"No, no it's not," You got up and made your way over to him, "Just tell me what the hell is going on! Why can't I remember anything? What's WCKD? You know but you won't tell me!!"

He just sighed and looked away, but that only infuriated you more, "Newt! I swear to god, tell me!" You pushed his shoulders, "What. Do. You. Want? Why am I here? What does WCKD mean?!"

When he stayed silent you went to push him again, but he caught your hand this time. In a flash, his gaze darted from the floor to you, "I wouldn't."

"What the hell are you gonna do?! Huh??" You struggled with him, but once again his grip was like steel.

"Just sit down, please, your wrists." He nodded towards the bed.

He was holding something back, and you could tell.

When you didn't move, he pursed his lips and sighed, "Listen, I can't imagine what's running through your mind about me right now, about the Glade, but I can tell you you're safe here. Nobody's gonna do anything without Alby's permission, or mine, so just sit down and let me help you."

Your glare didn't falter, but with that, you did ask he asked. Holding out your hands, you watched intently as he drenched a cloth with alcohol and gently dabbed it on your wrists.

"Holy shit, fuck," You hissed at the sting, and he grimaced along with you, "I know, I'm sorry."

A few seconds longer and he removed the cloth, eyes flicking up to gauge your reaction before he reached for some bandages. But even after he'd taken it off, the sting persisted. That god awful sensation burned through your wrists, and you couldn't help but growl through your teeth as he wrapped them up.

"Alright," He breathed moments later, "Now that that's done-"

But you cut him off, "Wait, wait, shut up."

Something had changed, and the most powerful dejavu you'd ever felt rippled through you. Your name..... what was your name? You remembered being called something, somewhere in the past. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn't place it.

"What?"

Sounds and smells flooded your mind, and you remembered being in a hospital bed?

"Wait," You closed your eyes and focused for another minute, and then it came to you, "(Y/N), my name's, (Y/N)."

"Well," A grin cracked across his face, "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)."