centre | newtmas au

2

newt:

His chest feels warms and light at it's centre and he smiles and Thomas, slightly, nodding a thank you. He realises how distracted he has become. He needs to tell Thomas about what Ms Paige said earlier, before it slips from his mind, though he doubts it will.

"So, Ms Paige, she told me something, and I'll be honest, I zoned out for half of it...."

Thomas chuckled.

"...Shut up. This is important"
Thomas mocks sitting up straight and pretends to straighten his tie.
Newt rolls his eyes and continues. "She basically said no matter what happens in the next few years or months, you have trust yourself and Thomas, because you need him." Newt pauses. "No bloody offence but I fully wanted to throw myself off a cliff thinking about it." (really sorry)
Thomas frowns, pushing his hair back from his face. "Why would you ever need me?"
"Exactly."
"... and these next few years or months or whatever? What does that even mean? .. sis the apocalypse gonna start or something?"
"I bloody hope so, maybe a zombie will finally eat me and put me out of my misery."
Thomas raises both eyebrows at him. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that freaky brain of yours.."
"The feelings mutual, bloody believe me."
Thomas stands up and walks over to Newt's bed. "Can I sit?" Beckoning to the space beside Newt.
Newt nods. Thomas flops down beside him, bouncing slightly as his body hits the mattress.
"Watch it." Newt says, a small fire lighting behind his voice. Thomas just leans his back against the wall, their shoulders pressed together.
"Can I tell you something?" Thomas says. "Don't ask why I'm suddenly talking to you, but I feel like I can trust you, and apparently I need to, so..." Thomas inhales.
"You know that injection we had, like three months ago?"
Newt nods, pushing his mind back to try and picture the day.
"Well, you know afterwards, everyone kinda went loopy, some more than others, the worse ones were screaming or passing out?"
Newt sees it clearly. He was one of the boys who passed out, but he says nothing and nods.
"Nothing. I felt nothing. I had to pretend to pass out, because in all honesty, I was terrified that I was a freak. I don't want to be a freak, Newton."
"Tell me about it." Newt mutters.
"What do I do? I can't be the only person who feels like this, can I? I can't be alone."
He sees Thomas working himself up into hysteria, and does something unnatural, something old Newton would have shuddered at the thought of. He rests his hand on Thomas' and squeezes.

"You're not alone" Newt says, his usually sharp, bitter voice, softening. He doesn't want Thomas to feel the loneliness he feels often, as much as he dislikes him. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone. "Mate, believe me, you're definitely not a freak. I know what it's like, it's...." Newt pauses. "It's hard, feeling so isolated and judged, and I honestly don't know what it is, but I'm different too. See, I already have a bloody example. You're not alone."

Thomas remains still, but inhales and exhales deeply. "Thank you. I'm sorry, that you uh... feel this way. Life sucks."

"It really does." Newt says. "What's the time?"

"8:30pm"

Newt feels his eyes drooping, and his body aching to lie into bed and sleep for hours, but no, it's only 8:30pm, and he doubts he'll sleep tonight. He has so much to think about. But his brain aches. He actually feels tired, and after a moment he realises how relaxed he is, although his hand is still on top of his enemies, and his enemy is leaning on him.

"Thomas?" Newt says.
"Mhm." The boy mumbles in reply.

"I think I'm gonna get ready for bed early tonight. And I promise you, when I say this I'm being completely honest; I haven't been genuinely tired in weeks. I've not slept more than 3 hours for weeks. I kinda need this."

Thomas suddenly sits upright, and looks him in the eyes.

"How are you alive?"

Newt shrugs, he feels like the living dead twenty-four seven.

"Coffee is a miracle you know."

Thomas shakes his head in a disapproving manner.

"Not to be soft on you, because don't forget we're enemies still." He says, his eyes lighting up with a grin. "But you need to sleep, get changed, I'll shut up for once. If I had any part in keeping you awake I'm sorry, I'm a bit annoying sometimes."

"Now you tell me..." Newton says, rolling his eyes, although inside he's kind of relieved the ice has somewhat broke between them, or the walls that stood between them are slowly coming down. It would be nice to have a friend, or a frenemy. Either is good compared to no one.

Newt starts to loosen his tie and hangs it on the hook on the back of their door. He grabs his pyjamas that are folded beneath his pillow and goes into the bathroom that connects to the dorm next door, and walks to a cubicle and shuts the door, maybe he's more comfortable with Thomas now but not that comfortable.

He's changed in 2 minutes. He's used to this now. It's a part of his routine. Avoiding Thomas was previously his prime motive and the crucial part of his daily schedule, but he hopes he can put that behind him. He realises how stupid he was. Thomas is a boy, maybe a bloody stupid boy, but a boy nonetheless. He's never known what went on behind the styled but messy hair, and the laughing face. Newton makes a vow to himself that he'll change. Maybe he'll finally get out of his own arse, and look at others for once.

He pushes open the cubicle door to see Thomas brushing his hair in the mirror, he opens his mouth to make a comment, but stops himself, remembering that he thought literally seconds ago. He just smiles instead, and makes his way back into their room to retrieve his toothbrush and goes to the sink nearest to the door, and furthest from Thomas. He stares into the mirror at the pale, sandy blonde haired boy staring back at him. He looks so tired. He splashes his face with water and stops staring at himself and focuses on brushing his teeth instead.

He spits in the sink, washes out his mouth and makes his way to bed, his limbs still heavy, and his eyes still drooping, he pulls back his cover and slips into bed, and before switching off his light, looks across the room at Thomas, who is lying on his bed in a blue t-shirt, and shorts, a book in his hands. Newton smiles to himself and turns to press the switch on his light.

"Goodnight, Newt" Thomas says.

Newt is taken aback. Newt? Thomas has never called him that ever before. It was always Newton, or nothing. 

"If we're choosing nicknames, I pick..."

Newt goes over a few in his head. Tom. No, too sweet and personal. Tommo. Nope, embarrassing.

Tommy. That's the one. The perfect amount of sincerity but also a hint of patronising in there somewhere.

"Goodnight Tommy."

He hears Thomas laugh in the dark. He closes his eyes his shoulders finally light and his head clear.

Finally, sleep.

eek. thank you for reading. i hope this was ok. i haven't written anything brand new in a while.

<3