NEWT POV
I don't move. I can't move. I can't do anything. I can't breathe. My eyes are open but I'm not taking in anything I'm seeing. He's gone. I actually can't save him this time. I hear someone call my name, but it's muffled. I can't hear anything clearly.
"Newt, what happened?"
"Where's Thomas?"
"What happened?"
I don't answer. I can't. Someone pulls me up. I can't walk. I can't move. I don't want to. Somehow, I make it inside. It's all a blur.
Next thing I know, I'm sitting in a stiff, metal chair facing Dr. Goodman.
"Newt." He says.
I don't respond.
"Newt, I need you to tell me exactly what happened." He says.
I don't say anything.
"Newt, you have to tell me." He says.
I still don't reply.
"Newt." He says. "Newt, you have to tell me everything."
I just stare at him.
He sighs. "Newt, there's a chance we could save Thomas if you tell us."
It's a lie.
"Newt, please." He says.
I blink.
"Alright." He says. "I have other ways to get things out of people."
He rises to his feet and walks over to me. He takes something out of his pocket and presses it into my side.
"I'm going to ask you a question and you're going to respond or I'll shock you." He says. "It won't kill you but it'll hurt like a bitch."
I don't respond.
"Okay." He says. "Let's get started. What happened to Thomas?"
I don't say anything.
"Okay then." He says.
He presses a button and an electric shock goes through my body. I scream. This may be the worst pain I've ever experienced. Even getting shot didn't hurt this bad.
"I warned you." He says. "Now, what happened to Thomas?"
"He fell." Is all I say. Even saying those two words zaps me of all my energy.
"Good." He says. "Why did he fall?"
My lip starts to tremble. "The rock b-beneath him. It fell away."
He nods. "And what happened next?"
"I..." I take a shaky breath. "I tried to pull him up b-but I couldn't."
"And then?"
"And then he fell." I say. "P-please don't ask me anything else."
"Okay." He says and he presses the button.
Pain courses through my veins. When he pulls the device away, I'm panting.
"You can go." He says.
I get shakily to my feet and nearly fall to my knees. I walk into a bathroom and collapse against a wall. I shove my head into my hands. I sob. Thomas is gone. Then, someone comes out of a stall. I look up. Aris. I wipe away my tears.
"I'm-I'm sorry." I say. "I didn't think anyone was in here."
"It's fine." He says. "Are you okay?"
I tell him reluctantly about what Dr. Goodman did.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"It's-I'm fine." I say. "I'll just go."
I rise to my feet but have to press my hand to the wall to keep from falling.
"Newt, just sit down." Aris sighs.
I shake my head. "Nope. Nope, I'm fine. I can-" Then, I fall, hitting my head on the side of the sink. "OW!" I cry.
I bring my fingers to the side of my head. There's blood on my fingertips.
"Newt, oh my god." Aris says.
"I'm fine." I say, trying to stand again.
"Jesus christ." He sighs. "Just please go get stitches."
"I'm fine, Aris." I say, though my head is throbbing.
"Know what, stay here." Aris says. "I'll just go get someone."
"Aris, if you do that, I'll punch you." I say. "I don't trust any of these slintheads to touch me."
Aris groans but lets me pass him. I walk out the door, keeping my hand against the wall. I walk outside and sit on the cliff.
"I'm so sorry, Tommy." I whisper. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry I got you killed. I didn't mean for it to happen. I should have held on tighter. I should never have let you go."
"It's not your fault."
I turn around. It's Thomas. But he's holding something. Someone.
"T-Thomas?" I ask. "Are you real? You can't be real. You're dead."
I look at the person in his arms. It's Minho.
"Okay, yep, I'm losing it." I say. "You're both dead and hallucinations."
"I'm not dead." He says. "And neither is Minho. He's almost dead though. We need to do something."
"Thomas, are you actually real?" I ask. "Are you really real? Because I watched you fall."
"I fell, but I lived." He says. "It hurt like hell but I lived."
"How did Minho live?" I ask.
"No idea." Thomas says. "I found him unconscious in the middle of the desert."
"This is insane." I say. "I thought you were dead. I thought I'd lost you."
"Never." Thomas says. "Now, we have to get Minho some help."
"Shuck no." I say. "Lay him down."
He does and I kneel beside him.
"Tommy, why did you come back here?" I ask.
"I couldn't just leave you here." He says.
"But you could have escaped." I point out.
"Not without you."
I smile. "Okay, let's see."
"Hey, what happened to your head?" He asks.
"Nothing, I'm fine." I say.
He touches my cut and I wince.
"Not fine." He says. "Can't we please just go in and get you both help?"
"I don't trust them." I say.
Thomas sighs. "Fine."
I lean over Minho and check his pulse. It's weak and thready.
"No, you're right." I say. "We can't help him. We need to bring him inside."
Soon, I sit on a hospital type bed, getting my head stitched. Minho's in the other room. Thomas sits in a chair by the end of my bed, looking through some kind of magazine. A handsome doctor with vivid green eyes steps away.
"Okay, all done." he says and he leaves.
I hop off the bed and sit on the arm of Thomas's chair.
"Let's go find Minho." I say.
"Not yet." He says.
"Why?" I ask.
"There's one thing I have to do first." He says.
He pulls me against him and kisses me.
"I missed you." He says. "I'm sorry I let go."
"No." I say, shaking my head. "It was my fault. I should have held on tighter."
"Just shut up." He says and kisses me again.