So I heard about Dylan O'Brien last night, and I'd already had a bloody terrible evening so it drove me over the edge and actually made me cry. But at least he'll be okay, and I wish him well xxx
Even though he doesn't read my fan fiction (as far as I know), I still dedicate this chapter to him, as I love this actor dearly <3
Thomas had stormed out of his therapists room soon after the declaration. He was to go home by the end of this week, and he couldn't bare that. It was still Monday, so he did have a few days left, but they weren't close to enough. He knew that he needed more time, and so he'd try to gain it. That's why he walked into the cafeteria at around six in the evening with no intent on eating, but to cause a scene like Stiles would. Stiles was the one that caused fear and created a disturbance that always landed him in trouble, but this time, it was Thomas. He needed to stay with Newt so desperately, that at this point, he was willing to lose his mind like his brother.
He tried to mimic Stiles' behavior as best as he could, walking with that small bounce in his step and the wide and arrogant smirk. His eyes were uncertain though, they weren't confident or dangerous like Stiles'. They gave him away, but only a select few would be able to see that it did. He was scared and it showed, his body shaking at the thought of causing a scene in front of so many people. Thomas hated people, he was okay surrounded by them, but for them to notice him was terrifying. Back at school, he wasn't even able to do class presentations anymore without bolting out the door. But that was a long time ago to him now.
Being inside River State had disconnected him from the world. Losing himself and giving in to Newt had made him forget the fact that he'd had an entirely different life outside these walls. Going back to something so unknown and so, well, normal, was terrifying. And for the first time, Thomas fully realized how alone he would be, and how the rest of the world had lived ahead of him while he'd stood still like a clock out of battery. Leaving meant that he was going somewhere that he used to be familiar with, but now no longer would be, as he'd been gone far too long.
Suddenly the thought of the outside world, of nature and freedom, had become his prison. He would be trapped, and there was no way out of it.
And that's when it didn't matter anymore that he'd be causing a scene. Because if it meant that he'd stay and be safe, he didn't care about everyone watching. Well, he did, but not even close to as much.
Thomas gripped onto a tray where he'd normally be placing his food, sliding it onto the surface in front of all the meals that he was to grab freely if desired. But that wasn't his plan. He sighed, closed his eyes shut tightly as he shook, breathing in and out irregularly before they opened and adjusted clearly to show what was before him. His eyes were more determined this time and less uncertain than previously, but he hesitated still before grabbing a massive bowl of lettuce (that you normally were to take just a little bit from, and onto a plate), bringing it to his chest. He looked at the glass panels before him, shielding the food partly from bacteria and whatever else, sighing one more time.
Then he brought down the bowl onto the glass, smashing it into shards that went into the food.
He moved onto the second panel, ignoring that his hands partly stung due to some glass coming in contact with his skin. Thomas managed to smash the second panel before he was being pulled back, presumably by staff, and that's where he first realized that his hands really were partly bleeding. However, the noise seemed to have suddenly disappeared and gone eerily silent, and all he could hear were the vibrations within his neck due to him screaming at whoever was pulling him back. And after that, he couldn't really remember what had happened.
Thomas was now having glass removed from his hand by a doctor that he'd never seen before. He sat on the bed for patients, anxiously moving his body as he couldn't seem to keep it still. The boy winced every time a piece of glass was removed from his skin, but it was bearable enough. He didn't exactly know when he'd ended up in this room as everything between the cafeteria and being here was a blur, but he figured that he'd just been screaming with the desperation to show his insanity.
His hands were now wrapped up in white band-aid, and he studied them both carefully, as if he'd never seen his hands until then. Thomas' head snapped up to the door when he heard it open, and he realized that that was the first proper sound he'd heard in quite a bit of time. Normally he would've been surprised to see Mrs Miller walk in, but he wasn't anymore. He was waiting to be told that he'd be locked up, or that he wouldn't be allowed to stay anyway because she knew why he'd done it, or worse, that he wouldn't get to see Newt.
She approached carefully, for the first time stepping forward in hesitant steps before this boy. Apparently, he'd finally managed to instill some fear into her. The doctor left, and so she took his seat where he'd sat as the door shut. A clipboard was in her hand, a pencil in the other as she crossed her legs and straightened her posture, preparing to speak.
"Thomas, normally after your actions we would be locking you up and keep you under strict watch, but we've decided against it for once. We know why you did what you-"
"No, you don't." Thomas snapped, his voice going an octave higher towards the end as it cracked. He hadn't spoken a proper sentence since he last saw her, and he'd recently screamed until he no longer could, causing his throat to go raw.
"You did it to stay with Newt. You care about him and I know that. I think everyone does." Mrs Miller said, her voice soft and quiet, watching the boy across from him carefully in case he decided to suddenly jump up and do something irrational again.
"I just want to stay or take him with me." Thomas pleaded, his voice wavering again in desperation. He looked sad, weak, and the weight that was dragging him and his body down made him look just as small and fragile as Newt. He felt helpless, because he knew that there was nothing he could do, which was confirmed just a second later.
"And neither is possible. He has to stay here until he's of legal age to leave on his own accord, unless his parents decide to release him early. And while what you did would normally have us reevaluate our decision of letting you leave, we know that you only did it purely so you could stay. It wasn't really you because you're you." Thomas nodded his head, his eyes glazing as he began to cry. He couldn't help it but let his body cave into itself as he sobbed, teardrops falling onto his sweatpants.
"That's i-it then? Is it just o-over?" Thomas stammered, the reality of this being the end, sinking in so dangerously slow, like a lethal poison slithering through his veins until it settled within him.
"Nothing is over. Being told that you're to leave is usually a good thing. It means you're well enough to be outside of just this one building." She tried reasoning, but Thomas failed to see it clearly.
"It means that you don't see my problems as big enough to let me stay." He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he'd shed, and his lips still dry and quivering.
"It means that you're able to take care of yourself despite of the few things that hold you back." Thomas moved back, leaning against the wall as he let his lower legs dangle over the edge of the small bed that he was on.
"Thomas, despite what happened today you'll still be allowed to stay in Newt's and Stiles' hospital room for the night. I had to negotiate a little bit, but I know that it would only be worse making you stay in your room alone." He looked at her again, actually fully looked at her as best as he could with his still slightly blurry vision, and then he smiled.
"I still get to be with Newt tonight?" Thomas asked, his voice in a shy whisper as he ran one of his bandaged hands through his hair.
"Yes, but this isn't a normal occurrence and not something I would normally agree to have happen with patients. But under these circumstances, you will be allowed to." The boy eagerly nodded, jumping down from the bed and onto his two feet. It was as if he'd been hit with a burst of energy out of nowhere, and he suddenly couldn't wait to go to see Newt, to stay with him.
"Can you take me to him then?" She nodded, getting up as well as she made her way out of the room and down the hall, Thomas following her like an eager and young puppy. Eventually, he recognized the hallway they were in, and he sped up in hopes of getting there faster. He passed a clock on the way, seeing that it was almost seven thirty in the evening before they finally stopped in front of the right room.
"I'll be back tomorrow evening. The doctors that will check on Stiles and Newt, know that you'll be in there, so there shouldn't be any problems. If they want you to leave the room at one point though, you do so. Are we clear?" Mrs Miller was stern with her words, making it clear that Thomas was not to disobey the rule she'd set. So, he nodded, stepping inside the now dimly lit room. He first saw Stiles, who was sitting up on his bed and closer to the door. Newt was on the opposite side of the room, therefore still blocked because a wall was preventing Thomas from seeing the blonde. But he turned the corner quickly, coming face to face with a sleeping Newt.
Thomas could only think that Newt resembled an angel. The way he was wrapped up tightly in the pale white blankets with his messy blonde strands of hair, his light pink lips, closely shut eyes with pale skin illuminating from the little bit of light, was breathtaking. He also looked so small and innocent, as if he was forced into a cruel and vicious world that he couldn't understand, and the torture of it all reflected on every scar and cut gashed along his arms and everywhere else on his body. He'd been cast down from heaven and straight into hell.
"You look like you've just seen something that shouldn't exist." Stiles interrupted, and Thomas turned around to look at his brother, his fond gaze changing to a more guarded and aware glance.
"He almost shouldn't." Thomas mumbled, lightly letting his fingers touch Newt's left arm as he traced a line from his wrist, all the way up to his shoulder. It was a gentle touch that was barely present, but it was there and incredibly intimate.
"Why shouldn't he?" Stiles asked curiously, still acting so humane with the exception that he was currently digging his nails into his palms underneath his blanket, not for Thomas to see.
Thomas would've answered, but he heard shuffling beside him and could see movement from the corner of his eyes. Newt was awake.
"T-Tommy?" Thomas sat down quickly next to Newt on the bed, facing the blonde as he crossed his legs over.
"I'm here, Newt. They said I can stay the night." He spoke in such a gentle and loving tone, a tone that he only had reserved specifically for Newt. It was affectionate and slow, holding a lot of answers to his feelings.
"They're l-letting you s-stay?" Newt seemed genuinely surprised at this, as Thomas had no reason to be allowed to stay as he wasn't hurt. The blonde had looked up at Thomas, before slowly shuffling back a bit, closer to one edge of the bed. Thomas guessed that Newt was silently trying to tell him to lie next to the other, and so that's what he did. He laid down, facing Newt for now as he slowly smiled, resting a hand on the pillow before the two. It was a tight fit as it wasn't a bed meant for two, but due to Newt being so small, they still managed to have room between them.
"Just for tonight. But I'm here and I'm not letting anything happen to you." The blonde nodded, beaming because Thomas would get to stay. He was nervous though, as they'd never shared a bed through the whole night. They'd shared a bed a lot just to talk or hold onto each other, but this was different, and the blonde was scared to accept that. This was how things were between them now, they weren't what they'd started off as. He didn't know what it was, he couldn't put a word on it quite yet, but it made his heart beat fast and his breathing ragged.
"Newt, am I allowed to take your hand?" Newt looked into Thomas' eyes, biting his lip before he looked at one of his hands and slowly moved it up towards the one that Thomas had rested on the pillow. The blonde touched his fingers lightly before quickly moving it back, as if an electric shock had gone through him. There hadn't been one though, he was just worried that he'd be doing something that Thomas wouldn't want. But Thomas smiled lovingly, reassuring him that it was all okay, and so the blonde moved his hand closer again for it to fully touch Thomas', placing it above the others hand. The blonde's hand was a lot smaller though, and so he didn't manage to cover all of Thomas' beneath him, and Thomas himself thought it was incredibly cute.
Thomas then moved his hand away slightly, out of Newt's grasp. It upset the blonde briefly, and so he pulled his hand back entirely in fear that he'd done something wrong. But Thomas took his hand once more, pulling it back up towards the pillow. This time, however, Thomas' hand was covering Newt's, making it no longer visible as it was enveloped in the younger boys grasp. It made the blonde boy blush, and he hid his face shyly within the soft pillow.
"I want to hold your hand Newt. You didn't have to pull away. It's okay." Newt nodded, feeling his body warm up because they were so close and his hand was being held so carefully in place that he felt something electrify him. It was an odd feeling coursing through his veins, but he wanted more of it. He couldn't understand it.
And suddenly, Thomas began to feel guilty. He wouldn't be here for Newt much longer, and in a way he felt like he was leading the blonde on, only to then disappear by the end of the week. Thomas had to tell Newt, he had to say something now before he'd begin feeling even worse. Before he could speak though, the blonde did.
"What h-happened to your h-hands?" Newt asked, and Thomas knew immediately that it had taken quite a lot for the blonde to muster up the courage to ask. He was hesitant to do so because he didn't want to annoy Thomas if it was something that Thomas wouldn't want to talk about, even if he was perfectly fine with it.
"I'm actually wondering that too." Stiles commented, breaking the moment the other two had shared between their eyes. They both looked at the boy across from them, Thomas rolling his eyes at his twin before he said something.
"I broke some glass and went kinda crazy." Newt looked at Thomas with wide eyes that were also suddenly incredibly frightened. It upset Thomas, but he also couldn't blame Newt either. He understood.
"Are y-you okay?" The blonde stammered, wondering curiously with a worried and quite surprised glance. He hadn't really expected it from Thomas. And in that exact moment, Thomas knew that he had to tell Newt. He needed to know what had happened, and what was going to happen.
"They say I can go home, Newt." The silence that followed was the worst type of silence that Thomas had ever endured. Even Stiles didn't manage to get a single word out, because even he had been taken aback. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part, the bit that broke Thomas' heart and smashed it, was the look Newt gave him. Like Newt had known all along that the other would eventually leave him, but that he'd somehow expected him to stay, only for his worst fear to be turned into a reality.
Thomas was sure that he'd never seen anyone look so sad.
Newt was crushed, and he'd felt like his body had frozen up and he wasn't capable of moving or responding. Thomas would be gone. The person he held onto and relied on, and needed more than anything, would vanish. Thomas wouldn't be here every day, they wouldn't hold hands, there wouldn't be anything.
And the blondes only response was to fall apart and cry. He moved his legs up to his chest, taking his hand away from Thomas' so that both his arms were wrapped around his knees, and he broke. Thomas was hurt by his hand being left to grow cold, but he wasn't about to force the other to hold it again. The blonde was sobbing and Thomas couldn't stop it either, there wasn't anything he could do that would make it okay. It would never be okay.
Thomas carefully moved closer, placing an arm carefully around Newt before he settled it on the smaller boys back. He tried to say something, but every time he opened his mouth to speak, he couldn't get any words out. Thomas was just as heartbroken, and he couldn't begin to imagine how the blonde must be feeling. He'd opened up slowly, he'd trusted Thomas, and now it was all coming to an end.
"T-Tommy, I w-want to tell you s-something. Before you're g-gone." The small boy whispered, and Thomas leaned closer slightly so that he could hear. He assumed that Newt didn't want Stiles to listen in on it, or he hadn't been so careful with the way he was speaking. His whole body was still shaking, he didn't know how to handle himself, but he sighed and slowly accepted that if this was it, he wanted Thomas to know the secret he'd kept buried. He didn't quite know why he'd wanted to tell Thomas, but it'd been on his mind for a while, and now he was running out of time.
"Anything, Newt." Whispered Thomas, lightly caressing the blondes back in a gentle motion as he felt the shakiness of the smaller boy in front of him.
"W-what S-Stiles said earlier. A-about me k-knowing what it's l-like down there-" Thomas immediately knew where the blonde was going with this conversation, and the fact that the mood was already bad enough, he wasn't too sure if he could handle hearing this too. Especially not now when he'd have to leave.
"Newt, you don't have to tell me if you don't-" Newt quickly cut him off, which was unlikely and unusual for the blonde. Even he himself hadn't quite expected it to happen.
"But I w-want you to k-know. Before you l-leave me." Thomas winced, and he felt a single teardrop form in the corner of one of his eyes before it fell down across his nose and onto the pillow, as he was lying sideways.
"D-don't say it like that. Please, Newt, don't." He begged, and Newt listened. The blonde would always listen to Thomas, even if he didn't always do exactly what Thomas wanted.
"A-anyway. I was l-locked up twice. The f-first was s-straight away when I came h-here. I was u-unreliable." His voice was still quiet, so Thomas made sure that he was fully focused on the blonde, no one and nothing else. He couldn't miss anything.
"I'd h-hurt myself b-badly at home. R-really badly. My parents had h-had e-enough of m-me c-cause I w-wasn't supposed to w-want t-to die. They sent me h-here straight i-into lock up." Thomas didn't know how to react, he didn't know if there was a certain way to react to a confession like this one. He knew Newt, and he knew that Newt wasn't even close to being healthy and alright, but to still hear something like that made it all so much more real. Thomas hated how fearful he suddenly became, just thinking about him leaving and the blonde doing something again, made him want to hold onto Newt forever.
"The s-second time I-I was out of lock u-up, around two y-years or so l-later. I w-wasn't e-even fifteen." Newt paused and rubbed his eyes with his hands to get rid of his tears, but unfortunately it was still very visible that he'd been crying for a while now. Thomas' grip on Newt's back tightened as he held onto him closely, and by now their foreheads were almost close enough to be together, but they weren't.
"I j-jumped from the s-second balcony f-floor next to the s-staircase, l-landing one below. It w-wasn't far d-down, but my a-ankle was really b-badly injured a-and I b-broke a few b-bones. That's w-why I have a l-limp, Tommy. I l-limp because I t-tried to k-kill myself." Newt let his voice slowly fade out, even though he hadn't even been that loud to begin with. But now he was silent, Thomas was silent, and Stiles wasn't saying anything either. Stiles was on the other side of the room, hearing the hushed whispers that he'd normally want to understand, but as much as he tried, he didn't manage. He would've moved closer, but he couldn't with his injury, as he'd be far too loud trying to move around.
"N-Newt. Hey, Newt, I d-don't-" Thomas stopped, because he really hadn't thought about what he was supposed to say. What was he meant to say? He didn't know if there was a right or a wrong.
"Y-you don't know w-what to say. F-figured." Newt cried out, and that bit, Stiles had heard. The wailing sound that the blonde had made was hard not to be able to make out.
"No o-one c-cared, Tommy. They w-wanted me d-dead! T-they all let me k-kill myself!" Stiles slowly sat up, suddenly fully aware of the conversation after piecing it together on his own after Newt had shouted the last three sentences.
"I don't. I care about you and I would never ever want that." Thomas told Newt, meaning every word as he looked right into Newt's eyes. They were still close, but both of them couldn't see much due to their teary eyes from all the crying. Thomas had a hard time grasping it, he couldn't comprehend what exactly had happened to the blonde in the past, and yet he knew that he had to accept that it was all true.
I wouldn't either.
Newt sat up quickly, looking across the room to see Stiles. The blonde tilted his head quizzically, scared and confused because he'd heard the boys voice, and yet he was patiently sitting across from the two that were sharing a bed. Thomas' eyes followed Newt's own, and he looked at his brother oddly. Stiles seemed emotionless, like his eyes didn't hold any sadness, anger, guilt, or anything at all. He looked as if he didn't feel anything, and he'd still said nothing with the exception of speaking within Newt's mind.
But Newt also knew that it wasn't Stiles. It just sounded like Stiles in his head. Or maybe it was Stiles. To sum up, the blonde was confused, he didn't know what was happening and he'd lost control over himself entirely. Granted, he'd never really understood how he worked, but just a few months ago, he'd had it all under control. Now he was hearing, feeling, and doing things, that he'd barely even heard of, much less understood.
"I d-don't know what's h-happening to me." A fresh set of tears fell out of Newt's eyes, slowly running down his pale and thinly defined cheeks before landing on the blanket. Newt just sat there, but he noticed immediately when a pair of warm arms wrapped around his waist, holding him against Thomas closely.
"Hey, Newt. Listen to me. I'm so glad you're still here despite of that. I would go out of my mind otherwise, if I found out that you were no longer here. Newt, I know I'll be gone, but that doesn't mean that I don't need you. And that doesn't mean you'll no longer be on my mind, because I always find myself thinking about you." The blonde slowly looked up, and his forehead was instantly leaning against Thomas', their noses brushing gently. Newt bit his lip, his heart speeding up just from knowing that the other was so close to him. The blonde wanted to move closer, but he remembered that Stiles was in the room, and so he pulled back before they got too close. Thomas tried to hide his disappointment, but he knew why Newt hadn't kissed him, and he wasn't about to force the blonde into anything either. So he accepted it and pulled back too.
"It's quite late. Would you like to rest?" Thomas asked Newt, moving a strand of hair away from the blondes face carefully, letting his hand linger longer than it needed to. Newt blushed but nodded, moving to lie down again. He was tired from all the crying, and his head felt like it was splitting open as it hurt so much. And so he obeyed, his eyes fluttering closed before he felt Thomas lie down next to him.
"Is it alright if I hold you again?" Newt didn't speak, he was suddenly way too exhausted, but he managed a small nod. Again, he felt an arm snake around him, a hand intertwining with his own before his chest, and now Thomas' body was lightly pressed against Newt's back. The blondes face flushed red, thankful that Thomas was not able to see him as they weren't facing each other like before. He felt Thomas' lips by his shoulder blade, making him shake in longing that made it somehow harder to think.
Newt fell asleep quite quickly though, faster than usual. But he was so peaceful and warm, that he managed to slip away from everything so fast, and straight into darkness. Thomas, however, stayed awake as he couldn't sleep, and so did Stiles.
All Thomas could think about was leaving. He wouldn't be able to wake up every day, knowing that Newt was just a few doors down the hall. Thomas wouldn't be able to just go to the blonde, to hold him if something was happening, to comfort him, to touch his hand and kiss his lips. He wouldn't be able to do anything, and yet his feelings would be just as strong and even more painful when they'd be torn apart. Thomas really couldn't manage all these thoughts, and yet they wouldn't go away.
"I love you, Newt." Thomas confessed, moving around so that he could feel Newt's body closer against him. He wanted to feel the radiating warmth of the small boy that he cared so deeply for. Even though he knew that Newt hadn't heard, it felt relieving to admit that it was true. That's how he felt.
And Stiles had heard it. Oddly enough, it warmed the ice cold boy up, hearing his brother say something so sweet to someone that was barely moving, the only proof of life being his slow mouse like breaths that he inhaled and exhaled. Stiles genuinely felt himself smile, and he couldn't quite remember the last time he'd felt the warmth in his heart the way he did now.
Thomas knew that Stiles was still awake, he sensed it, his brothers presence always made itself known. He gulped, knowing that his twin had heard the four words that were meant for the blonde, that were always going to be meant for the blonde. And now he was about to ask his brother something that he'd never guessed he'd every say.
"Promise me something." Thomas looked towards Stiles, and Stiles' lips were slightly agape in curiosity and wonder. He was surprised to have even been spoken to, and he wasn't too sure on what to expect. Thomas leaving hadn't been a part of his plan, and now he had to calculate and figure everything out differently. A plan b, since apparently plan a would've never worked. His brother confessing that he was leaving made Stiles act off, too normal, like he used to years ago before he went slightly mad, or when he had other plans, which he often did, but in this case, it wasn't even an act.
"Promise what?" Stiles rasped after having not said very much.
"Promise me that you'll keep him safe. I can't do that for much longer. I need to know that he's okay." Thomas was practically begging, pleading for Stiles to do this one thing for him. And Stiles couldn't really say no, because he may've not had much sanity left in him, but his brother wasn't just anyone to Stiles either.
"You trust me with that?" His brother asked, slightly suspicious because he knew that Thomas hated the very thought of the two of them alone without Thomas there to watch over things. And Thomas' next words confirmed that he was right about that.
"No, but I have no one else to ask. Please, Stiles. I love Newt so much and I have to leave him. Just please. I don't trust you, but you're the only one I have to rely on." Stiles slowly got up, moving out of his bed and over to the other two whilst wincing due to his self inflicted wound. He was careful so that Newt wouldn't wake up again, but he was also loud enough so that Thomas would know that he was moving. His brother glanced up from beside the blonde boy, his eyes still filled up with tears that would fall at any moment, and Stiles started shaking the closer he came to being in front of the two.
"I promise. I'll make sure Newt's safe." He gave a small smile, playfully nudging his brother in an attempt to lighten the mood, even though he knew that everything was far from being okay.
You'll be safe from everyone, Newt. Even me.
To Stiles, this was a dangerous promise to keep, and yet he had every intent not to break it. He had a new plan now, he knew what he would have to do. It was for his brothers sake, for Newt, and even partly, for himself. He gulped down the lump in his throat, straining it so that he wouldn't shed any tears. Stiles was scared, and he dragged his pained body back to bed, letting out a deep sigh as he closed his terrified dark brown eyes before he was surrounded by nothing.
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So usually when I'm upset, Newtmas and Dylmas O'Sangster cheer me up. So, I thought that if any of you are upset like I was over Dylan O'Brien, I could cheer you up with a new chapter for The Devil Within.
And then I realized how sad I had planned this chapter to be...
Anywayyyyy that being said, I don't really like One Direction, however the song Moments makes me think of Newtmas so much, especially with this chapter because Thomas is leaving. I listened to it while writing this, and it works.
Also, I keep saying I'll update Sinner and then never do, but I'm writing the newest chapter so I promise that I haven't abandoned it, or my one-shots either.