Saving Newt

Chapter 51

Hey,
Thanks for reading! I'm sorry this chapter isn't very long, but I really enjoyed writing it, as well as almost bursting into tears at how star-crossed Brianna and Newt are 😢
Please vote and comment.
Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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Brianna knew she was selfish. She was hurtful. She thought she tortured all of the people she loved and all of the people who were foolish enough to love her back.

Brianna was like Cathy, like Wuthering Heights, only her options weren't as difficult as Cathy's, neither hurtful, neither weak. And on the grass Brianna sat, crying about it and not doing anything productive or at all useful to make it right, just like Cathy did.

Despair gripped her; there was no way to bargain with the creators, nothing she could do but this. Brianna pushed the terror back as far as she could. Her decision was made and there was nothing anybody could say to make her change it, even Newt who she was sure would be biased against killing herself to save him.

Save Newt.

Saving Newt; that was her destiny, wasn't it?

Boredom gripped her shoulders, hanging onto her like a parasite. Alby had called an emergency meeting, the morning after she told Newt about what she knew, but nothing worried her now. They could discuss to put her in the slammer, banish her or leave her for all she cared. Either way, she was determined to venture through the walls and leave Newt behind, but alive.

Besides the fact that now she had proven to be capable of running again, Newt had insisted she rested. She couldn't disobey him twice, but the lack of activity left her alone with her thoughts for top long and she soon realised how challenging it was to avoid the inevitable: her death for Newt's life and freedom.

As Newt shut the door behind him, he felt a light nudge to his left. Newt spun around instantly to stare into deeply into Brianna's eyes. In the almost empty field around them, she smelt of vanilla, but her eye shone through the thick, awkward atmosphere like stars that hung in a dark sky back at home, where they belong. They were like crystal, fierce sapphires. Both beautiful and evil. Both stunning and cruel. Both loving and daring. Everyone had secrets, but Brianna's eyes never lied.

'They're such shuck-face morons in a pile of bloody klunk.' Newt mumbled, jogging slightly to catch up with her eagerly descending down the field confidently, glaring before her with more focus than a lion on its prey. She was more like a confident lioness than any of the Gladers were.

'Who?' Brianna asked curiously.

'Gally, Alby, Minho, everyone basically.' He grunted.

'What were they saying?' She questioned and Newt sighed, not wanting to tell her that he was the only one in the entire Homestead that wanted her locked up, so she wouldn't do anything stupid.

'They just don't get it.' He sighed exasperated, running a hand through his hair and then wiping it on his tattered, torn and rather dirty ripped trousers.

'I disagree. They're all geniuses, able to coordinate such a hectic place as the Glade, like you do. It was I who should punished for being "such shuck-face morons in a pile of bloody klunk", not them.' Brianna quoted chuckling, realising instantly that Newt wasn't annoyed at them, but at himself for having no simple solution with no suffering. Newt nodded in agreement, not bothering to stare at her any longer. She didn't bother looking at me.

'No.' Newt objected slightly. 'Geniuses are people like Einstein, Newton, Fleming, Mendeleev, Curie and Stephen Hawking. Gally: an ugly, selfish, bitter shuck face.'

She laughed, tossing her hair slightly as she did so, before settling down on the grass and tapping the space beside her. Unsure of what else to do, Newt sat down and began to pick at the grass. 'I disagree.' She sighed. 'Fleming was famous because of a mistake, Curie died because of her experiments and Mendeleev had a dream. Real geniuses are Emily Brönte, Jane Austen, William Shakespeare and Homer, mostly because of his odyssey.'

It was Newt's turn to laugh now, but not as spitefully as she had. Newt gently began to unpick the grass from the ground, boredom overcoming him in their tranquil silence. Fiddling was something Newt just couldn't stop doing. He was never normally sat on the grass, sure, on top of it, but never sitting amongst it.

'Grass is genius too.' Brianna murmured, sitting so their shoulders were together, but slumped so their legs were entangled far apart. Newt could hear her breath and almost feel her smile.

'How so?'

'It grows to be eaten, just multiplying on a vast scale. Animals eat it, humans mow it, but it stays firm. Grass is something that can inspire us all.' She beamed, fiddling with her own stem and gently tying a figure-of-eight knot.

Then she announced that they were going to search for four-leaved clovers and not murder innocent grass stems. Newt laughed at this, but agreed to join in until the other Gladers finished their meeting.

After five minutes of scrapping through the brittle clover patch with long, dirty fingernails, she eventually plucked on and held it out proudly, like a child winning a certificate of behaviour. 'Even though you were clearly not participating in this clover search, Pervert,' she said wryly, 'We found one.'

'Well done.' Newt said automatically, cringing at how sarcastic and lame it sounded.

'Newt, I give you this clover as a sign of my love. For it, like me, is a complete pointless abnormality. My brain has been experimented on, this clover has an extra arm.' She explained and handed it to him, beaming as she did so.

'Er, thanks.' Newt replied simply, trying to hide his response to the humorous side behind her comment. Newt loved her all the same.

After several minutes in silence, Newt said eventually, 'What are we going to do, Brianna?'

She drew her legs up closer to her body, suddenly feeling the cold. 'I don't know, but I know what I want to do now. I want to be with you, and you alone.'

'You're lying.' Newt stated and Brianna frowned, almost offended by his words. Newt had never been rude to her before, but he had spotted how she looked at him, like he was wounded and like she was the solution, but only after her tragic death. 'You're planning to end it, aren't you?'

She didn't reply, but both of them knew she didn't have to. 'Newt, I-'

'No Brianna, can we not just end it the way it started?' Newt asked quietly, but Brianna just frowned beside him, not entirely understanding what he meant.

'What? Down the box shaft?' She spluttered  unsure of whether it was wise to venture down there together, but anything seemed better than death by Grievers.

'No!' He chuckled. 'We fell in love, didn't we? That's why your here. So let's end it the way it started, together.' He suggested, but that seemed like Brianna's nightmare. She didn't want him to die with her, or she could never leave him in the afterlife. Brianna thought death was a separation, but she wanted to die knowing Newt would be ok, not also dead by her side.

'NO!' She said firmly. 'We can figure something out, but I will not let you die, particularly for me.'