Newt x Reader || A13

The boy leads me across the field towards a single two-storied building which sinks into the ground. It's a simple structure made from wood and straw.

"The homestead," he says, gesturing towards the entrance, "where most of us sleep." He shows me inside.

"It's-" I start, "cramped." Hammocks are arranged in rows, and dirty sheets are strewn haphazardly across the ground in this communal living space. In the far corner are sheets strewn up: thin space dividers.

"There's not enough room in here anymore, so the remaining sleep by the gardens." He pushes aside a thin sheet serving as a divider and shows me into a smaller space. "This is me." He says. A single hammock hangs from the wooden rafters, and a small trunk lies next to it. The whole space is can't be larger than two arms' widths across.

I wonder briefly why it is that he gets his own space; the others are cramped into the communal room.

"I'm second in command. After Alby, who you saw today." Newt adds, recognizing my slight confusion. The face of the dark skinned man from earlier surfaces.

"Your leader."

"Yes. He was the first." the boy says quickly before pushing aside the divider and leading me into an even smaller space. A hammock hangs by the wooden wall, and the dust flies up through the space as the sheet is cast aside.

"We made plans to put the new Greenie in with all the other guys, but for obvious reasons, that might not be the best idea." He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes trained on the empty hammock in a way that makes me double take in case he's seeing something I don't.

"Oh," I say, looking down. "I can sleep outside if I'm kicking someone out."

"No it's fine. No one was using this space. It was-" he starts, then closes his mouth. "They sent up some clothes for you in the box, probably cause you're a different er, size, than the rest of us. Some shank'll bring 'em over later." At his words, I glance down at myself: black cargos, a fitted shirt, and hiking boots. Clothes primed for movement.

I say nothing, managing a nod.

"I'll be outside when you're done. Alby wanted me and a couple of the other shanks to give you the tour before the celebration tonight."

"Celebration?"

"Yeah, for you." He says, before disappearing, leaving me alone in the room that's supposedly mine. My head pounds still, the rattling of the cage and screeching of gears still ringing though my ears.

- - -

After mentally calming myself down for a while, I'm ready to make my way back out to the front of the homestead, where Newt should be waiting for me. I push aside the divider and walk through the empty homestead until I reach the entrance, finding instead another boy. He's breathing heavily, hands on his knees. I step through the frame quietly, hoping to slip beneath his attention, but he looks up.

Our eyes meet. He exhales sharply, and his widen for just a heartbeat. They're grey: a stony, slate colour.

"Sorry," I mutter and take a step back. The boy continues to stare at me, squinting now.

He's tall and slim with a narrow frame; his black hair is dishevelled and sticking up in odd places.

After several minutes, he opens his mouth, half- gaping.

"You-" he whispers, some strange disbelief lacing his tone. After another moment, the straightens, blinking twice as his eyes shift. "Who are you?"