♡ Dark Paradise ♡ ; newtmas fanfic.

c a v e

I explained to Paul about WICKED and the Glade, and the painful journey I went through before I got here. I know he's my father, but I don't think I'll ever be able to call him my dad. He'll always just be Paul to me.
Newt left Paul and I alone to get to know each other, so while I was of course missing Newt, I was also glad that we knew we had to sometimes give each other some space.
Paul and I walked through the busy town, passing the large groups of people standing about, and into a field. The same field I was laying on when I arrived.
"I need to show you something," Paul said seriously. "You have to stay very, very quiet, all right?"
I nod, anxious to see where he's leading me. We walk through the tall grass, until we approch a large, dark cave. "Now we have to turn invisable."
I look at arm as if it will soon go transparent.
"Not literally invisable, Thomas." Paul sighs, shaking his head.
"Oh."

He leads me into the cave. It's cold and damp, and reeks of a foul stench. It's hard to follow Paul in the darkness, but I can see the silhouette of his body as it moves foreward.
We keep shuffling until we approch a dim light, which eventually takes over the whole room inside of the cave.
I can see inside of the room, now. Inside, men are dressed in dirty, blood stained, torn clothing. A large table in the middle of the room was filled with what looked to be pills and weapons.
"What is this place?" I whisper, but Paul puts a finger to his lips.
One of the strange men inside of the room walks up to another one, pushing him on the ground, punching him over and over, yelling unidentifiable words.
"We need to help him!" I whisper again, but Paul shoots me a glare, grabs my wrist, and drags me out of the cave.

"What the hell was that?" I ask, feeling like I can breath again once we're back in the field.
"I should be asking you!" Paul shouted. "I told you to stay quiet, and you talk like you're purposely trying to get us attacked!"
"You still haven't answered my question."
Paul rubs his hands over his forehead, sighing. "I just wanted to show you that this place isn't as safe as you think it is. I don't know what they're doing in there, all I know is that I discovered them by accident when I first went inside the cave."
"Why do they have weapons, though?" I ask, "it's not like they can kill each other. They're already dead."
"I told you I don't know, but what I do know is that weapons aren't nessecarily used for killing. I mean, they could be torture weapons." Paul shrugs, unfazed.
Meanwhile, I am shocked. Do all of the people here know it's not safe? Or is everyone living a lie?
"We have to tell people; it's not safe here!" I shout, and Paul cups his hand over my mouth.
"Shut your mouth." He snaps. "Everyone is perfectly fine. We've been safe for this long, right? It seems to me that those men had their own little problems to solve by themselves. Plus, we have nowhere else to go."
What he was saying was true, but for some reason I didn't want to agree with him. "I-I don't know. I still think-"
"No, Thomas, listen to me." Paul interrupts. "You'll keep your mouth shut. It will make everything worse if people know. They'll be running about; living in fear, or they just won't beileve you and you'll be known as the Heaven's very own psycho!"
I open my mouth to speak, but he continues his rant.
"I shouldn't have even shown you. I thought my son was strong. I thought my son could handle it."
"Really?" I yell, fed up with his words. "Then how are you so sure that I'm even your son?"
Paul's face softens, and he stares at the ground. "Thomas, I didn't mean it like that. You are my son, and I don't care how you act, I'm just happy to have found you, all right?"
"It's okay." I say quietly, feeling small.
"No, it's not. I haven't been acting like a father to you. I don't want to take you for granted again. When they took you away, I was broken. Your mother, though . . she wasn't. She seemed to know excactly where you were going, but she wouldn't tell anyone.
Now I'm here for you, Thomas, and I missed you so much. It's just . . hard for me to express my emotions, you know?"
I nod, patting him on the back. He knows who I am, but he's still a stranger to me, and maybe that's all he'll ever be.
"You've been through so much. We all have, but you have been through so much more." Paul tells me, "You are strong, okay? If I ever say anything bad like that again, I don't mean it."
"Thank you?"
"I know I just seem like a strange man to you, but I watched you grow up, Thomas. When you were just a little boy and your favorite thing to do was ride those fake pony rides at the grocery store, and I had to keep spending my quarters on it. When it was your third birthday and you had more cake on your face than you did in your stomach. Or when you were born and your first words were not 'Mom,' or 'Mama,' they were 'Daddy.'"
His words hit me like a slap in the face, and I wish I could remember those things. I would give up anything to remember . . even just for a few minutes.
"I love you, son." Paul says, rubbing his red eyes.
I sigh, knowing what he wants to hear. "I love you too, dad."