Flares // Newtmas alternate ending

Over the past few hours, Newt had started to feel worse and worse, like he ran a marathon with the flu. His head also hurt. It hurt a lot; a headache that wouldn't go away and felt like a loud bell was going off in his brain. With every sound he heard, a faint ringing rang in his ears that he had no idea how to silence.

The cool night air felt colder than it had ten minutes ago. He wasn't supposed to be this cold.

Why was he even outside in the first place? It was night, he should be back in his bed at the Homestead. Where was he?
Then he remembered the shots of guns, bullets rushing past him, running for his life, jumping out a window. He was in the city, where WCKD was. He, Thomas and the others were trying to save Minho. They had saved Minho. After WCKD... they had found Gally. They had gotten as far as they could before the Cranks blew open the doors and started to raid the city. Thomas had sent Gally and Minho ahead to get... the cure. He had the Flare. That's why he was so cold, and his head hurt, and why he had the overwhelming desire to attack someone. That's why he heard ringing and why Thomas had been dragging him back to the berg.

Thomas. 

Newt checked his neck where a necklace had hung not ten minutes before. It was gone. Thomas had it. Newt let out a subtle sigh of relief, glad Thomas had his letter, because he had known before and he knew now he wouldn't be himself, or perhaps alive, much longer.

He had the Flare, and it had been developing rapidly, meaning he would go mad very soon. Meaning Thomas was in danger. He couldn't let anything happen to him. He couldn't let himself hurt Thomas.

He tried to push himself up, it being a great effort in his sick state. He had to hold on to the knowledge of Thomas and the others, so he could get away from them, and be far enough away before he went crazy. He couldn't let them see him that way. He couldn't let them have to deal with him, watch him as he grew more and more insane and unstable. He couldn't let them be near enough to him to get hurt, when he forgot them. 

When he forgot them.

That was what sacred Newt the most. Forgetting himself, his friends, everything that had happened. Forgetting everything in the past two and a half years of his life, since he woke up in the glade with Alby, Minho and some others. He'd already lost his memory once, it terrified him to lose it again.

Another thing that scared him wasn't forgetting but basically becoming a new person in himself, someone the others didn't know-- that he didn't know. Going mad. Without memories, forgetting everything he made certain he wouldn't lose a second time, and losing his mind as well was scarier than he'd ever imagined. Because once he was past the Gone, there was no going back. He'd be gone forever, no longer himself.

And knowing he only had minutes til that finally happened was terrifying.

He finally got himself up and off the ground, wincing as his head spun with dizziness and a sick feeling. He staggered a bit but caught himself before he could fall. He had been vaguely aware of someone speaking, which had stopped now.

"Newt?" A voice behind him said. Newt turned around slowly, so as to not dizzy himself more. Thomas was only ten feet away, looking both confused and scared. Newt felt his stomach drop like a rock.

He had to get away from Thomas. He could feel the Flare eating away at his mind. It would be over for him soon and he had to put distance between himself and Thomas. He couldn't give in before he got away.

"Newt?" Thomas said again. Suddenly, it was as if a change as big as the world going black and white had occurred. Newt no longer felt the need to run, he felt he needed to get closer to Thomas. Thomas was a threat to him. He would try to take Newt somewhere, somewhere Newt couldn't remember, and Newt didn't trust it. Newt had to stop Thomas, he had to stop Thomas.