He couldn't see anything, his limbs felt like lead. All he wanted to do was speak to Thomas. To apologise for attacking him. He could barely remember the moments before he blacked out.
A sound echoed through his ears like a gunshot-it was high pitched ringing sound. Newt jolted awake, his eyes snapped open as he gasped for air.
There was a heart rate monitor beside him, he was lying on a bed with an iv sticking out of his arm. Remembering the sting mark Newt searched his arm for it. He gasped in surprised when he saw it had vanished.
WCKD must have cured him. His head felt foggy and he could barely remember a thing. To his left was a table with a jug of water and a glass. Newt ignored the glass and grabbed the jug. He drank half of the jug's contents thirstily. His mouth was like a desert.
Newt's mind was beginning to clear. He remembered barely having control over himself because of the flare and how he shot himself to save Thomas.
Newt blinked. He had been certain he had been dead. Someone must have saved him.
Newt was certain WCKD had something to do with his miraculous healing. He looked around the bare room. There was only a window to the far left and a door opposite his bed.
Newt stood up, ripping his iv out. He felt fine. There was no trace of his madness left in him. He felt as though he had been asleep for a really long time.
He knew better than to try walk out the door, as it would be locked. So instead he wandered over to the window. Outside it was dark but there were streets down below.
Newt noticed a chair and a desk on the other side of the room. He approached it and grabbed the chair. Newt swung the chair into the window, which cracked. With a sigh, he tossed the chair aside and stripped his bed of the sheets.
Newt knew he had to escape and find Thomas. He didn't know why, it was just a gut feeling. Wrapping the sheet around his elbow, he smashed it into the cracked glass.
The window shattered and glass fell downwards. Newt glanced out of the window to check how far down it was. A few meters or so until there was a ledge.
Glancing around the room Newt looked for something sturdy. Something he could tie the sheets on to. Newt tied the sheets together in a tight knot, then he tied one end to the bed.
He walked over to the window, thankful for the darkness before throwing the sheets out of the window.
Oddly Newt was still dressed in the same clothes before he shot himself. They were no longer covered in dry blood. His trainers were still on his feet.
Newt climbed onto the window ledge and grabbed onto the sheets. With one last glance out of the room- he began to climb.