Restart //Newtmas/Dylmas Oneshots\\

'Tommy'

Based off of more so the book instead of movie on terms of how in the book they remember their names straight away.

I need some Newtmas in my life right now.
I love how my phone automatically capitalizes 'Panic'.
Lush green foliage was always what Newt liked best, and that was why he ran into the forest to find comfort and to relapse after his panic. Confusion had filled and scattered Newt's mind, wonder of what was happening.

No, not because of his unfamiliar surroundings (that happened yesterday when he came up) but because of a sudden name that had aroused into his mind. A name that was accompanied by a sense of familiarity and passion, and no, it wasn't his own name. Newt had remembered his name but nothing else since he came up into the Glade. So that explains when this name appeared into his psyche.

Tommy.

Oh, the bliss that came with the name. The foggy, blank memories it carried. The passion, emotion, and you could even say love. Tenderness, need, and want would also be valid. It was strange, yet, satisfying. And oh, how Newt loved the sound of it rolling of his tongue into the air.

You may ask, how this name came to Newt's mind. No, it didn't simply appear even though it may have sounded like that was the case. Newt had found-just a couple minutes ago- a slip of paper, hidden away in his front pant pocket, reading: 'Please, try not to forget me. -Tommy'.

Of course- regretfully that is- Newt had forgotten, how? He wasn't sure. He couldn't lay a finger on why he had forgotten everything but his name, it certainly confused Newt.
But this... This 'Tommy' seemed to definitely be of importance of him. And Newt could only hope to see him again.

Little did the Brit know, watching through a beetle-blade was Thomas, wiping the tears from his eyes as he watched his live fight to remember a single bit of the little time the spent together.

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Blinding light and confusion is what Thomas was met with. A crowd of boys surrounded him overhead, looking down with only slight interest.

A thin dirty blonde boy jump down to level with him and stool out a hand, "Name's Newt, Greenie." He says with a soft, warm voice, coated with a British accent.

"T-Thomas..." He croaked out, grabbing Newt hand to stand.

Realization hit Newt's eyes and he took a slight step back,"T-Tommy?"

Thomas' eyes narrow in confusion and he bit his lip,"W-Well sure you can call me that, but would you mind telling my where in the name of hell I am?"

The group above watched as their second-in-command was filled with utter shock. Newt had consulted little of the skip of paper, only Minho and Alby knew. Even so, they knew what supplied their friend's outbreak and watched in sympathy.

Trying to regain composure, Newt failed to answer. Instead, he climbed back onto ground, walking- or so running- into the thick foliage to think.

Newt knew that the new Greenie was his Tommy, yes of course anyone could have that name, but Newt knew it. He had a feeling, a connection and that stuck to him. Muffled thoughts filled his brain, making his thinking scattered and unfocused.

Obviously, that boy had no recognition of Newt, and that hurt. Of course Newt had no set belief either, it was all based of a feeling, but still. Maybe this was for the best?

Sorry for that ending, wasn't sure how to finish this off.