Written in the Stars - Newt Imagine

Thank You Love

"Newt!" you yelled frantically, hurrying over to where he stood.  You held his pained face in your shaking hands, checking for injuries as Ben and Frypan caught his weight. 

"What's wrong?" you asked uneasily, "Newt, tell me."

"My leg," he mumbled, his face twisted in pain.  Sure enough, he was clutching his bad leg with trembling hands, trying and failing to balance on his other one.  Ben and Frypan positioned themselves on either side of him, wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"Newt, you have a first aid kit in the Homestead, right?" asked Ben, and he nodded quickly in response.  The med-jacks were too far away, and Newt needed some sort of painkillers, fast.  The four of you made your way through the dark, occasionally hearing frustrated curses from the boys.  When you finally reached the Homestead, you ordered them into Newt's first-floor bedroom.  They helped him sit down on the bed as you rummaged through the first aid kit.

"Take these," you commanded, giving Newt a couple of pills, "It'll help, I promise." 

While he took his medicine, you turned to Ben and Fry.

"What else do you want us to do?" asked Frypan politely, though you could tell he was exhausted, not to mention drunk.

"You guys go on to bed.  I'll be back later, as soon as I know he's okay," you promised. 

"Are you sure?" Ben asked hesitantly, probably nervous about leaving you in charge.

"Oh, don't you worry, Benny Boy, she'll take real good care of our second-in-command," Frypan giggled, not quite loud enough for Newt to hear. You grinned at the floor, muttering, "Shut up."

"Am I missing something?" Ben asked dumbfounded, Frypan laughing while dragging him out of the tent.

Once they left, you turned back to Newt, who was reading the label on the pill bottle.

"Is it working?" you asked.

"It says here that it's supposed to cause drowsiness," he said, pointing to a little sticker.

"It'll probably make you tired, yeah.  But you didn't answer my question," you said patiently.

"I still feel like shit," he said matter-of-factly.  You bent down so you were eye-level with his knees, slung over the side of the bed. 

"Can I touch it?" you asked.

"If it'll make it stop hurting," he replied with a pained chuckle.

You felt his leg at various places, asking him what hurt and how much.  His knee seemed to be sprained or strained, you couldn't tell, but his condition could definitely worsen if he put any more weight on it. Not to mention the previous damage from his accident. You told him all of this, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"Who else is going to clean up after these zazzed slintheads tomorrow?" he joked.  You laughed, relieved, and he slipped his fingers through yours again.

"Thank you, love, for helping me," he said quietly, almost a whisper.

"Of course," you replied, turning to face him.  He looked into your eyes again, except this time you didn't laugh.  Giving you no time to think, Newt leaned in, letting go of your hand and instead placing his fingers on your face.  Closing the space between you, he collided his lips with yours, sending chills through your entire body.  You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.  He grinned into the kiss, then pulled away for a second before pinning you down on the bed, pressing light kisses down from your jaw to your neck.  This was going way too fast, but you didn't care.  You needed Newt right now, and you've needed him since the beginning.  He smelled like the fire, smokey and comforting, and you breathed him in as he reconnected to your lips.  Tracing your fingers down the soft fabric on his back, you felt him try to change position.  Suddenly, he let out a small, painful yelp, almost like a puppy, and immediately rolled beside you on the bed.