Newt x Reader || A13

The glade is silent spare the steady breathing of the gladers surrounding me.

I lie awake, eyes trained on the wooden ceiling above me. Beams are crossed over one another, yet slivers of the night sky may still be seen through cracks in the panelling.

Gladers lie in the hammocks surrounding my room bordered by hanging sheets. It's got to be past twelve- everyone sleeps but me.

I'm just nodding off when a small whimper sounds from the hammock next to me. I open my eyes, straining to listen. I hear it again, a small noise resembling a muffled cry. Curious, I quietly sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of my hammock. My bare feet hit the rough wooden floor with a small scuff, and I stand.

It's coming from the room to my right. Newt's.

I take a breath and swing open the curtain.

He's lying in his hammock, facing me. His eyes are closed, and was he not whimpering, he would seem quite peaceful. A stone image of tranquility.

After further watching, I realize that his sandy hair is damp with sweat, and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed in concern.

He whimpers again, louder this time, twitching subtly as he does so.

I rush over and kneel down by his face, my bare knees scraping against the wooden planks.

"Newt" I whisper, waiting for a response. He sleeps on.

"Newt." I say a little louder, closer to his face. Instantly, he keels over, crying out, eyes still shut tight. I flinch away for a moment in shock.

"Please-" he whimpers, brow furrowed as he sleeps. He twitches again, and it pains me to see him like this. I reach out, but before I can touch him, he lets out a yelp, loud.

"Newt!" I cry, grabbing his face with both of my hands, gently cradling it towards mine, willing him to wake up. With a jerk of his body, he opens his eyes suddenly, and I find them full with unbridled fear and concern.

His eyes dart around the room for a moment before settling on mine. I peer into his gaze, still holding on to him, making him look at me.

"Hey- it's okay." I say quietly, managing a small smile. His hair is slick with sweat and his cheeks are rosy.

He mumbles my name in disbelief as if he's broken and it's the only thing he can hold fast to.

"I'm here. It's fine." He stares up at me, eyes cooling. "Bad dream?" I ask, running my thumb over his eyebrow. He nods, sitting up. My hands fall away from his face. He looks away, eyebrows crinkling in concern.

"They just get worse." He says quietly. I scoot around him, forcing him to look at me. He turns away, and I shrink back, unspeaking. For a moment too long, he is silent, then he turns and leans forwards.

"Tell me." I say, but he shakes his head, hair still damp with sweat as he avoids my eyes. "Newt." I bring my hands up and place them on his face, palms warm against his skin.

"I just don't want you to worry as well." He says quietly, looking at me with frightened eyes. At this, I offer a small smile, leaning in and pressing my forehead against his.

"You're pretty awesome, shank." I say, smiling. He chuckles at this and I am relieved to have brought a smile to his face after this nightmare.

"Don't perjure yourself." He says my name again and my heart starts.

"I'm not." I say before quickly leaning in and placing a small kiss on his lips, lingering for a single moment, unable to help myself.

I close my eyes and focus on the warm skin between my palms and the steady rise and fall of his chest as I gently press myself against him. When I pull away, my lips tingle with appreciation. Newt opens his eyes and smiles- a real one.

Goofy, lopsided, the one that make his eyes squint up adorably.

The one that makes me feel things I shouldn't- want things I shouldn't.

As I pull away, he leans in abruptly and places a soft kiss on my cheek, lips lingering for a second before he straightens, staring into my eyes with his warm brown ones.

"Stay?" He whispers into my ear, his lips grazing my ear. I nod, lying down next to him in his hammock and pressing my back against him. He wraps his thin arms around me and we stay. Silently.

Eventually, the steady pattern of his breathing paired with the rhythm of his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

- - -

When I open my eyes, the hammock is empty. I sit up, blinking: so is the rest of the homestead. Strange- it's still dark out, yet no one's here. I quickly get up, hoping I haven't missed anything important. As soon as I set foot outside the homestead, my heart rate picks up.

No ones around- I can't see anyone. It's still night, and the sky is pitch black, not a hint of light peaking from anywhere above the walls. Where is everyone?

Suddenly, a horrible smell wafts towards me- a stench so bad, I have to resist the great urge to hurl. I stumble forwards with my hands over my mouth; my breath catches in my throat as I look up.

Before me lie the other gladers. Each stretched out on the floor, their faces are all frozen in a horrible, gaping expression. Eyes wide open and glossed over, their skin is etched with dark, black lines protruding from their veins.

Stunned and shocked with grief and disbelief, I clap my hand over my mouth, stumbling back. A small shriek escapes my lips as I look down at the ground behind me. Julian and Newt lie in the grass, the same horrible expression on their faces.

I reach down slowly, arms extending towards the black masses. A single tear rolls down my cheek and lands on Newt's temple.

Suddenly, a voice sounds out in the stagnant darkness. My name.

The voice is trembling. I stand and turn. Thomas is before me, his face a red and blotchy mess. His cheeks glisten with tears as I run up to him.

"Thomas?" I manage. He stumbles forward, palms out. They're covered in a sticky, raven liquid- blackened blood.

"This-" He starts, his voice but a mere whisper, "this is our fault." He finishes, his voice breaking. I watch as he gestures to me, and I look down at my own hands.

Pitch black.