𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 - TMR AU, Thomas

𝟢𝟤𝟣，𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐬

༺ TWENTY - ONE ༻

Newt plops down next to me with a sigh, and starts putting his shoes on.

"Where are you going?" I ask, not really looking up from my phone until he replies.

"Hospital."

I nearly drop the device. "What? Why? What happened?"

He chuckles, sighing out. "Just a checkup for my leg. Mom is convinced this hospital does know how to fix it."

"The other hospital knew too, but they also knew the risk of that kind of operation," I say. "Should I come with you?"

It's Tuesday. I don't have anything on Tuesdays.

Wait, one week ago... the fair. I can't stop the butterflies when I'm reminded of it again.

"Okay." Newt gets up. "It's a long drive, though. Sure you won't mind?"

I nod. If it was me in this situation, I'd rather not attend the hospital all alone and maybe even explain how I got that limp all alone. "Of course not. Come on."

Soon, we're sitting in the car. I turn the volume of the radio up, and for once, Newt doesn't mind.

Probably because I'm not playing Tchaikovsky now (The Swan Lake, Nutcracker, and other ballet music).

Newt hums quietly to The Smiths as I just full on sing with them. Still, he doesn't mind.

Which I'm glad about. The weeks after his attempt had been hard. It was undeniable Newt got moody fast, or had mood changes, at least. He might've not had any outbursts or anything the previous two weeks, but he wasn't the happiest either.

"How're you feeling?" I wonder, lowering the volume once we've gotten to a song I don't know very well.

I decide to not add the fact I meant emotionally.

"Today? Good," he says. "Kids at school are sweet. They're making up all kinds of stories to find out what happened to my leg."

I chuckle at that. "What's the greatest theory so far?"

"That my 'slim sticks of legs' get muscles in the middle of the night and that I turn into Batman, until it went wrong and I broke my leg." He laughs.

I laugh, too. "Oh, wow. Imagine! You in a suit, saving the city."

Well, I can't imagine that Newt, with the beige sweater and fluffy, brown jacket, saves the town at night.

And me, now with wide pants I stole from Sonya and a big sweater, neither.

I'm wearing these oversized clothes so Mom won't pull another action like weighing me, once she sees my body in those tight clothes again. Besides, I feel more comfortable like this. No one can see anything of my body that's underneath the material, so they also can't give me the looks that seem to have gotten more judging by the time.

We arrive at the hospital. It's a very casual one. A white, enormous building with a lot of hallways and doors and nurses. Bright side of this, Newt has a small chance of getting better treatment here.

But even though I'm using the habit of seeing things from the positive side, I still dislike being inside the hospital.

Memories of when we almost had to drag Newt out of the building once Alby got cancer flash through my mind. That call we got from the old lady that found Newt unconscious below the building. The way Mom's face paled when she heard, and how panicked Dad was as he drove us to the hospital.