Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Index:

Chapter 1. Index

Chapter 2. Dancing in the kitchen (prompt by me)

Chapter 3. Frat guy AU (prompt by me)

Chapter 4. Safe Haven AU where Newt has nightmares and runs from Thomas almost nightly.

Chapter 5. Newt's leg is hurting during the Scorch Trials

Chapter 6. Thomas has a bad day, but he comes home to his husband 

Chapter 7. Thomas gets a call from work that his fiancee got in a car accident

Chapter 8: Newt gets his wisdom teeth out

Chapter 9: Thomas cheats on Newt... in his dream

Chapter Text

When Thomas’ fingers stretch out in the middle of the night to find a cold empty space where his grumpy British boyfriend was usually asleep, he frowns in his sleep as his fingers seek out the warmth of his companion. After a couple seconds, Thomas begins to groggily come back into consciousness as he realizes that Newt isn't next to him. The pair was typically on the same morning schedule and always woke up together. 

Even threw the drawn curtains, Thomas could see the darkness from outside peeking through, indicating that it was nowhere near time to be up. Where was Newt?

“Ugh.” Thomas groans, scrubbing a hand over his face as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Newt?” Thomas calls softly, poking his head into the master bathroom, thinking maybe Newt just got up to use the bathroom. But the bathroom was empty. Now Thomas was getting irritated, he was wearing only his boxers and it was freezing without his own personal heater, aka Newt, to warm him up.

“Newttttt.” Thomas calls, unsteadily stumbling down the hall of their apartment to the kitchen where he could see a faint light on.

Newt was sitting at the island, with a blanket bundled around him like a cape, clutching a mug of peppermint tea in his hands.

“Babe, what are you doing up?” Thomas asks, confused as to why Newt’s having tea at this hour.

Newt looks up and Thomas can clearly see the sadness in Newt’s eyes and the residual tears that clung to his face.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Thomas asks with a sympathetic sigh.

Newt nods with a tense jaw and even though he was trying his best to hold steady, Thomas could see how shaky his hands were. Newt used to have a ton of nightmares as a child and teen, but they mostly stopped when he moved in with Thomas two years ago. He hadn't had one in months, but here he was hiding it from his boyfriend.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Thomas asks sadly.

“It's stupid, I'm twenty-three. Far too old for bad dreams.” Newt says dismissively, but sniffles nonetheless.

“Newt.” Thomas sighs, crossing the kitchen and yanking the tea out of his boyfriend’s hands.

“Hey what's the meaning!” Newt growls as Thomas yanks him off of the chair to a standing position.

“Shhh, don't fight it.” Thomas sings as he envelopes Newt in a full-body hug.

“Thomas! What? Aghh!” Newt struggles and squirms, but eventually calms down when Thomas starts swaying them slightly.

“Put your hands around the back of my neck.” Thomas instructs as he wraps his own hands around Newt’s waist.

“Why?” Newt asks curiously.

“So many questions.” Thomas rolls his eyes, but plants a kiss on the little scar below Newt’s eye that Thomas always finds so endearing.

Newt complies and Thomas starts to sway them more, gently rocking back and forth.

“Tommmmyyy!” Newt whines like a petulant child, “We’re dancing, so enjoy and shut up.”

“Dancing?” Newt frowns, hooking his chin over Thomas’ shoulder.

“Yeah tough guy, we’re gonna dance it out. Like Taylor Swift said about dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light in the middle of the night or something.” Thomas quotes.

Newt snorts, “The refrigerator is closed, you moron.”

“Yeah duh, I'm not going to waste electricity, I just wanna dance with you.” Thomas smiles, slow-dancing with the love of his life.

“You are something else Thomas.”

“That's why you love me, Newton.” Thomas beams, rubbing Newt’s back gently.

Chapter Text

Frat AU

----------------------

“Do you know five brothers?” Gally Watson sneers at the front door of the dilapidated house that was pulsing with music and energy.

“Uhh, I mean Thomas-” Newt starts awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he glances around at the tall muscular frat guys who could probably deck Newt if they wanted to. Newt’s face reddens as Gally gives him a knowing smirk. As much as his boyfriend tries to be discreet when sneaking Newt into the frat house to sleepover at night, Newt usually does run into a few of them in the morning.

Thomas was not exactly in the closet, but he certainly didn't wear a rainbow shirt and advertise to his friends why Newt came and slept over and left with hickeys and a sweatshirt of Thomas’. Newt and Thomas were a night couple, sleepovers and quiet nights in their safe places. However tonight, Thomas had persuaded Newt to come to the frat house while they were having a party. Newt had never been to a frat party and had not a clue what to expect.

“Relaxxxx.” Gally laughs, cutting Newt off, “I know you're here for Thomas, shank. He's inside.”

“Yo Newt, what's up brother?” Thomas cheers as he appears on the back porch with a backwards baseball cap, a sweaty and beer-stained t-shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts.

Thomas leans in to give Newt a handshake while Newt’s eyes widen, “Did you just dap me up?” Newt splutters.

“Yeah, bro come on inside.” Thomas smiles, hooking one finger under the braided black hair-tie bracelet on Newt’s wrist and dragging him in the house while Newt keeps his eyes down on the matching bracelet around Thomas’ wrist knowing that this will be the closest that they will come to holding hands while being in the frat house. The main floor of the house was packed and the walls were sweating with perspiration from all of the body heat.

Newt glances around at the way that everyone else is dressed, so scantily and feels self conscious in his jeans, sweater, and leather jacket. Thomas must notice it too because he grabs Newt's jacket.

“You're gonna have a heat stroke in the basement, N. Loose a couple layers.” Thomas insists with a smirk. Newt pulls his jacket and sweater off as best as he can with people pushing and shoving against him while Thomas watches with an appraising smirk as Newt is left in just a white t-shirt.

“Newtttttt.” Thomas sings, “Come downstairs and dance with me.”

“Downstairs? Really bro ?” Newt snickers.

“Shut up. Everyones in the basement.” Thomas nods with a fond eye roll.

“Everyone? There's more people than this?” Newt gapes.

“Yeah come on.” Thomas grab’s Newt’s bracelet again and subtly rubs a thumb along the pulse point in Newt’s wrist.

Newt winds up pressed against Thomas’ back and breathing on his neck while the two try to cram into the basement and Thomas leads them to the beer pong table at the back. The air down here is so thick that Newt struggles to breathe as they are packed in like steamy sardines in a sauna. Water drips from the ceiling and the floor is covered in a puddle of beer, water, and god knows what else.

Every six seconds Thomas is stopped by someone calling him “Tom” and giving him a fist bump. Newt recognizes a few brothers like Minho and Frypan, but most people in the basement are brand new to him. Newt is feeling claustrophobic and itching to reach out and hold Thomas’ hand as their fingertips brush together.

Thomas must feel Newt’s heart racing because he lets his fingers gently dance along the sensitive skin of Newt’s wrist.

“You're okay.” The husky whisper in his ear makes Newt break out in goosebumps, “Relax.” Thomas drags a finger tip up the inside of Newt’s arm and smirks at him suggestively.

“Let's get you a beer and you take a deep breath for me.” Thomas continues, mouth against the shell of Newt’s ear.

“I can't breathe in here Tommy.” Newt admits.

“Try. For me.” Thomas pleads, letting a hand press against the small of Newt’s back.

“Do you promise you won't leave me alone here?” Newt asks skeptically.

“Of course.” Thomas promises, rubbing Newt’s pulse point affectionately.

Newt takes an obnoxious breath, “There ya go beautiful.” Thomas whispers with a proud smile that makes Newt’s insides twist.

Thomas finds a beer that's 80% foam and places the red solo cup in Newt’s hands.

“This is disgusting Tommy.” Newt frowns.

“Drink it anyway.” Thomas smiles.

“Thomas, who's the blondie?” a smirking girl with long brown curls and blue eyes asks as she throws an arm around Thomas, leaning so close in her personal sp[ace that she can probably smell Newt’s cologne on Thomas’ shirt.

“Teresa, this is Newt. My boyfriend.” Thomas smiles and Newt’s heart melts.

“Yeah right.” Teresa snorts. “Come play beer pong with me. You're my good luck charm.”

“Newt and I were going to-” he starts.

“I'm up next.” she whines, a pouting bottom lip, “Are you really going to ditch me?”

“Fine, okay.” Thomas sighs, leaning in to talk to Newt, “One game and I'll be all yours. Come watch me.”

Newt leans on the gross and wet wall next to the beer pong table and watches Thomas get swarmed by girls who just need Thomas to play pong, or get them a beer, or dance.

Brenda, Teresa, Rachel, and countless other names all fawn over Thomas while Newt fumes with jealousy and annoyance.

Newt lasts an hour without Thomas giving him any acknowledgment besides an apologetic smile and a mouthed “sorry” thrown his way every time he remembers that he's got a boyfriend waiting.

“Fuck this.” Newt grumbles, smoldering.

“Hey.” Minho stands next to Newt with an apologetic wince, “I know he can be a dick sometimes, but he really REALLY likes you. He never shuts up about how much he likes you. Those girls don't mean shit.”

“Doesn't make it easier to watch.” Newt sniffles. “I'm gonna head out.”

“Thomas said you were staying tonight. He made a whole big thing about picking up your meds and pajamas earlier.” Minho says with surprise.

“He's too drunk to even notice.” Newt shakes his head sadly as he finishes his third foamy beer of the night and taps Thomas on the shoulder.

“Hey, just one second.” Thomas smiles, throwing a pong ball into a cup that sinks and everyone whoops and cheers.

“Bye.” Newt huffs, turning and leaving.

“Hey, hey wait.” Thomas grabs his wrist, “Come stay with me.” Thomas pleads with big brown eyes and a pout of his lips.

“Tommy no.” Newt frowns, standing his ground. “I'm going to bed.”

“Okay, go lay down upstairs and I'll be up soon.” Thomas smiles, shushing everyone who was trying to pull him back into the game.

“No Thomas, I'm going home.” Newt annunciates, “Fuck this.”

“Thomas? You never call me Thomas. Why are you leaving?” Thomas’ eyes open wide and he tilts his head in confusion.

“You've fucking ignored me all night and I hate being here. You know I hate stuff like this and you promised you wouldn't leave me.” Newt says with a firm jaw.

“Come on Tom. You're stalling.” Teresa whines. “Stop talking to Noah and come play.”

“It's Newt. Yeah Tom. Get back to your game.” Newt sneers, walking away sadly.

“Newt, come back.” Thomas pleads, chasing him through the crowd, but Newt doesn't stop until they get outside.

“Newt, you're being unreasonable bro.” Thomas whines as Newt shrugs on his sweater and jacket and pushes out the door to the back porch where Gally sits on a ledge smoking a cigarette.

“I'm not being unreasonable. You ignored me all night. You're calling me bro like last night you didn't call at three in the morning yesterday and beg me to come over and cuddle you. Like you didn't come over on Friday night after last week’s frat party just because you say you can't sleep without me scratching your head. You only take me to the movies and hold my hand when it's dark out. You let girls hang all over you and kiss your cheek like I mean nothing to you. You say I'm not a secret, but you will only love me when it's safe, but I deserve more than that. I don't even think you like me, just the attention I give you as your stupid little secret.” Newt explodes.

“This is awkward, I'm gonna go inside.” Gally nods.

“Safe choice.” Newt laughs with no amusement.

“You really think I don't actually like you.” Thomas frowns sadly with big sad eyes as he grabs Thomas’ hand. “I really REALLY like you, Newt. That's why I wanted you here with me tonight. You make me so fucking happy that it actually makes me feel warm inside. It's not a secret that I like you Newt, everyone who's important to me knows about you and everyone else isn't even worth the breath it takes to explain. Even my parents know about you, but like I'm not gonna like broadcast it.”

“I'm like totally not like you're fucking secret side chick.” Newt mocks Thomas, “Why do you constantly keep me around like a security blanket and then ditch me until everyone else in the world is gone?” Newt fumes.

“Tommmm, you left me.” Teresa pokes her head outside and whines, interrupting the argument.

“Can you fucking go.” Newt snaps.

“Easy jesus, I know you're like his lab partner or something, but can't you take the hint when you're third wheeling?” Teresa sneers.

“I'm third wheeling? I'm literally dating him, or at least I was now I'm not so sure.” Newt explodes. Thomas flashes a hurt look and sports a trembling bottom lip.

“You're gay?” Teresa turns to Thomas.

“No he's not gay he's just been having sleepovers with me and having sex with me for the past four months because he's straight.” Newt quips.

“Technically I'm bi.” Thomas says with a wince, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, now you're gonna be by yourself tonight.” Newt sniffs, “Have a good beer pong tournament Thomas.” With that, Newt stalks off into the night to walk the thirty minute walk back to his place, not caring about leaving Thomas behind.

“I thought you were staying at Thomas’ tonight.” Alby, Newt’s roommate asks from the couch where he plays video games while Newt brushes past.

“Change of plans.” Newt grumbles, heading to bed.

Two hours later, Newt is awakened by a knocking on his bedroom door.

“Newt?” Alby calls, knocking.

“Fuck off.” Newt groans, burying his head in his pillow.

“Thomas is here.” Alby tells him.

“Fucking bastard. Bloody asshole.” Newt curses rapidly, pulling on his pants and moving to the door.

“What?” Newt snaps at his sheepish boyfriend, “What could possibly be so important at three in the bloody fucking morning that you had to come barging into my place to tell me?” Newt demands.

“I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be mad. I fucked up, I know. But you left your meds and stuff in my room and I keep thinking about what if you have an anxiety attack and need them, so I figured it's better to bring them now then have you get them when you're having an attack and realize they are still at my place.” Thomas rambles.

“You came all the way here to bring me my medication?” Newt asks in surprise.

“Yeah, and you're a good pillow that you can't sleep without.” Thomas nods, holding said pillow up.

“Did you walk here, this piss drunk in the cold?” Newt asks.

“Yeah, I can't drive.” Thomas shrugs.

“Jesus.” Newt sighs, “Get in.”

“What?” Thomas gapes.

“Get in and lie down before I change my mind, frat boy.” Newt smiles despite himself.

“Oh thank you Newt, I'm so sorry-” Thomas rambles but Newt holds up a single finger.

“Too late at night to rehash this, I'll be mad at you tomorrow. But for now, come lay down and cuddle me for a change, good that?” Newt asks, walking to the bed as Thomas gets on his usual side with his usual pillow.

“Good that.” Thomas breathes a sigh of relief as Newt pulls him close.

Chapter Text

Thomas bolts up in bed, glistening with sweat as his wild and haunted eyes rapidly scan the room for the familiar source of the haunted shrieking that Thomas has become so accustomed to.

“Newt? Newt? Hey it's okay.” Thomas rushes, lifting a hesitant hand out to the trembling blonde in bed next to him and carding cold fingers through curly blonde locks. Newt was still sleeping, albeit a miserable and tumultuous sleep that was plagued by a constant onslaught of nightmares that wouldn't let the blonde get an ounce of peace even when he was asleep.

“Tommy is right here.” Thomas says carefully, waiting for the moment when Newt would inevitably bolt up in bed and Thomas would be able to gauge if this was a good day or a bad day.

Newt’s tear-filled chocolate brown eyes spring open as he panics and flails sitting up. 

“Newt, it's Thomas. You're okay, we're in Safe Haven.” Thomas affirms, reaching a hesitant hand out to Newt’s shoulder gauge if the blonde was okay with touch. The older flinches and shrugs off the younger’s touch immediately. Thomas sighs and sits up, cross-legged and stares at Newt with patient and open eyes as he waits for his partner to make his next move.

“But, I, I, Tommy, he, he… I…” Newt stutters through a sob, looking around the room frantically.

“I'm right here. Look at me.” Thomas coos, placing a gentle hand on Newt’s to test his reaction again, smiling softly when Newt let's him without a reaction of fear. “It's Thomas.”

“No, no, no. I killed Thomas.” Newt shakes his head violently, pushing Thomas’ hand off and curling himself into a ball as he rocks with sobs.

“Newt.” Thomas tries patiently as his blonde companion’s body is wracked with thunderous roaring tears and he wriggles relentlessly as he tries to squirm away from Thomas.

“Newt.” Thomas tries again, voice more commanding than gentle as he places a firm hand on Newt’s collar bone, trying to wedge his fingers in between Newt’s chest and his knees that were pulled into his chest.

“NEWTON!” Thomas finally barks, letting his thumb dig into the scar that he knew so well because he had caused it.

“AHH.” Newt shrieks, breaking from his daze at the pain from such a sensitive and raw area being dug into.

“What am I touching?” Thomas asks evenly while his stomach flips at the thought that Newt’s pained jolt came from his hands. 

“My scar.” Newt sniffles, looking at Thomas with something that was so guilty and haunted in his eyes that Thomas had to swallow the bile coming up in his throat.

“Why do you have a scar?” Thomas continues, cupping Newt’s cheeks and gently rubbing the tears under his eyes away. 

“You… uh you stabbed me.” Newt breathes in deeply as he tries to compose himself.

“Why did I stab you?” Thomas nods.

“So I…” Newt pauses to rub his eyes with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “So I wouldn't hurt you.”

“So am I hurt?” Thomas asks, patience starting to drain.

“No.” Newt shakes his head no firmly.

“That's right, you didn't hurt me. It's okay, it was just a really shitty dream.” Thomas promises.

“But I wanted to hurt you.” Newt’s eyes welled up again, the gentle moonlight from in between the slots in the blinds illuminating his face in a pale and dramatic light that made Newt almost glow.

“You were sick.” Thomas reminds him.

“Oh god.” Newt chokes out, putting a hand over his mouth as bad memories consume him. Newt let's out a tiny whimper, desperate to be held and comforted. 

Thomas knows what comes next well. He takes his time getting comfortable and settled under the covers before dragging the devastated, yet pliant blonde onto his chest and snuggling him close.

“It’s okay. I'm right here.” Thomas reminds him over and over again. 

Thomas puts one firm arm over Newt’s back to keep him in place as he starts to freak out and thrash again, while he uses the other to twirl the soft blonde curls at the nape of Newt’s neck. 

The brunette stares up at the ceiling and counts the stars that Newt painted over and over and over again until Newt cries himself out, like usual. 

Thomas lays there, still feeling his adrenaline on high and blood pumping in his ears. Thomas lays there and loathes how this is a good day. How he so selfishly hopes for days like this where all it takes is letting the love of his life cry himself out on his chest. On good days, like today, Newt’s nightmares are about hurting Thomas and all he really needs is a reminder that Thomas is okay and safe.

But on bad days, the subject of Newt’s nightmares are how he got the scar in his chest and more specifically who gave it to him. On bad days, Newt bolts the second that he sees Thomas and runs as far away from Thomas as he can. Because on bad days, Thomas is the villain in Newt’s nightmares.

The sleepless nights from calming Newt down on good days was nothing compared to the sheer terror and panic that Newt had in his eyes when he looked at Thomas on his bad days. Newt would run and hide until someone that was not Thomas went and found him and calmed him down while Thomas would stay smoldering in the tiny house that they shared while he fumed over the fact that he couldn't comfort his partner.

In the daytime, Newt was all sunshine and smiles. He was the same old Glade Mother and voice of reason, spending most of his time making sure that everyone else was safe, happy, and in line. He still tended to the garden when he had a free minute, helped Gally when he needed a hand with a project, helped Brenda in the medical bay when she was overwhelmed, gathered wood for bonfires, helped Frypan cook when he had a spare minute, and at night when everyone at the Safe Haven would gather around to eat dinner by the firelight, Thomas would watch mesmerized from afar as all of the children in Safe Haven would gather around Newt and listen to him tell stories or dance with him. Even with all of his tasks, Newt would wake up everyday at the crack of dawn and paint something on the walls of their cabin. Thomas often woke up later than Newt and he would wake up and scan the room trying to find what the newest doodle on their shared space was. Gally offered to paint the walls a color, but Thomas loved their little tradition and the way that Newt’s drawings oozed love and made it feel like their home.

But in the middle of the night, the strong, independent, caring, and highly-respected leader was reduced to a panicked and crazed mess by his nightmares.

Thomas kept himself busy by running in the morning with Minho and working with Vince to allocate supplies and explore the old cruise ship that brought them there.

Gally spends his days in his workshop with an old radio blasting 80s music as he works his hands to the bone trying to build something helpful instead of stewing on all that he's destroyed. 

Minho found a strange solace in fishing, sitting on the beach in his chair and reeling in dinner while listening to the churning of the ocean.

Brenda found a knack for putting bandages on people.

Frypan cooks and you can taste the love in every meal.

Sonya takes the old ragged and worn clothes and transforms them into jackets, shirts, socks, and whatever else anyone needs.

Everyone found ways to keep their days meaningful, but at night everyone is on guard for one of Newt’s infamous night terrors, especially Minho, Gally, Frypan, and Brenda. 

Minho:

Minho is awoken by an all-too-familiar shriek. Minho’s cabin is the closest to the pair's cabin, leaving him the most likely to hear and check in Newt if something went wrong. Sometimes Thomas had it under control, but sometimes Newt wakes up and wants nothing to do with Thomas at all. 

“It’s okay, it's okay.” Minho hears Thomas’ gentle mantra as he tries to calm his lover down before Minho even busts in. 

“You're trying to kill me! No, please don't!” Newt yells. And as Newt flees, Minho opens the door and Newt flies right into his chest. 

“Hey shank face.” Minho teases as Newt clings to him.

“Please help, he's trying to hurt me.” Newt pleads.

“I would never.” Thomas sniffles, looking up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes.

“No, no he's gonna hurt me. He stabbed me. He wants me dead.” Newt begs for help, squirming too try to get past Minho and bolt to god knows where, but Minho stays rooted firmly in the doorway. 

Minho knows better than to tell Newt it was just a dream, he knows when Newt gets like this nothing will make sense to him ever.

“Do you wanna run?” Minho asks, standing in pajama pants and a hoodie while Newt is in a t-shirt and sweats.

Newt nods desperately.

“Shoes.” Minho nods towards the sneakers by the front door. Newt puts them on without complaint. 

“C'mon let's run.” Minho encourages with a nod, stepping out of the way to let Newt get a head start. 

Newt bolts ahead like a deer being hunted and Minho glances up at Thomas, who is covering his face with his hands to give himself privacy while he cries.

“I'll bring him back.” Minho promises hastily before taking off to chase Newt. The two run on the beach in companionable silence until Newt’s energy finally runs low as the pain from his leg slowly becomes greater than the pain in his heart. 

The two collapse on the sand together as the first licks of the sunrise begin to flicker over the beach. 

“How do you feel about puzzles?” Minho asks.

“Puzzles?” Newt asks with a furrow of his brow.

“Jorge has a whole stockpile of them from the gift shop on the ship.” Minho says, “I think we need to solve something.”

When Thomas finds the two at a picnic table by the beach, Newt is wearing Minho’s hoodie and the two are poured over the puzzle together. The pair of non-biological-brothers are engrossed in what they are working on as they chatter amongst themselves.

Thomas stops to stare at how Minho has a protective arm around the British teen’s back and Newt looks so relaxed.

“Slinthead, that's part of the life raft I’m building. Stick to doing the edges.” Minho chides, elbowing Newt who laughs before looking up and freezes when he spots Thomas.

“Puzzle?” Minho asks invitingly. So Thomas finds himself sitting with the two as they all work to complete a stupid puzzle. But when it's done, the proud smile on Newt’s face is worth how much his brain hurts. Newt and Thomas walk to the kitchen for lunch together and Newt reaches out to hold Thomas’ hand. He never talks about it after, too embarrassed usually, but Thomas doesn't care as long as Newt’s next to him. 

Gally:

“I got it.” Gally volunteers as he sees a blurry, tall, and blonde figure bolt out of the cabin that he was just approaching. 

“Newt slow the fuck down.” Gally calls, giving chase to the frightened teen. Gally knew that chasing Newt would only make him run faster, but Newt only had one good leg to run on so Gally banked on his one good lung carrying him further than Newt’s leg could. Eventually, Gally’s long legs catch up to Newt’s slowly crumpling form.

“You're awfully fast for a shank with only one leg.” Gally sighs, hands on his knees as he pants.

“Look at the pair of us, a couple of proper limpers.” Newt laughs with no light in his eyes.

“Sit.” Gally says, crashing to the ground in the sand by the ocean where Newt had finally stopped.

Newt sits next to his old friend, knees tucked to his chest as he pants.

“What's wrong with you, slint head?” Gally asks, elbowing Newt.

“That's a long bloody list?” Newt snorts.

“Why do you run from Thomas?” Gally asks evenly.

“Complicated.” Newt frowns, suddenly interested in a rock near his shoe and wholly occupied by the streaks of daylight starting to emerge in the clouds over the beach.

“It's not complicated, you dumb shank. You love him right?” Gally asks.

“Yeah, I do love him?” Newt nods.

“So why do you run Newt?” Gally asks with a cock of his eyebrows. “Why do you run and make everyone chase you?”

“Do you ever have a dream so real that you wake up and you feel like you don't know where you are? You feel engrossed and consumed by how real it was?” Newt asks.

“Of course I dream.” Gally rolls his eyes.

“Not what I'm asking.” Newt says evenly.

“Yes I do.” Gally nods.

“When I wake up, sometimes I think that I'm still there and I'm going to kill Thomas and I'M so fucking scared Gally.” Newt admits.

“He thinks that you're scared of him. Because he stabbed you.” Gally supplies.

“That's not it. I'm scared FOR him.” Newt admits, sniffling.

“Don't push him away. Greenies all grown up and he can handle whatever it is that you want to throw at him.” Gally reminds him.

“Gally, you don't get it. When I run from him it's because I'm worried still could hurt him. What if one day I snap and-”

“Newt, I killed the most innocent and loving child who looked up to me despite the fact that I was a dumb shank. Don't you think I have bad dreams about that? About being capable of something like that again?” Gally proposes.

“I guess so.” Newt hums.

“You're not. I'm not. You're cured and so am I. No more bad shit gets to happen to us.” Gally nods. “Now stop pushing away Greenie.”

“Easier said than done.” Newt sniffles.

“C'mon, let's get you back to that dumbass shank.” Gally pokes Newt’s arm.

When Thomas finally sees the pair of old friends walk back with Gally’s arm around Newt’s shoulder, flipping off anyone who looks at the pair wrong, he stops pretending to tend to Newt’s garden and glares with jealousy as Newt ducks by Thomas with his head bowed and heads home, utterly exhausted, to take lay down.

Brenda

It was noon on a Tuesday, but Thomas was still lying in bed with Newt. Vince had given them the day off after seeing how exhausted Newt was becoming and how little light was left in the blonde’s eyes.

Thomas was laying down, reading one of Newt’s books with the book resting on Newt’s back while Newt napped with his head on Thomas’ chest. Minho had given Newt a huge hoodie that swallowed the blonde and Newt’s hands were curled around Thomas as he slept peacefully. With the noise of the calm ocean waves floating through the cabin, Thomas felt at peace. 

Newt had been extra grouchy lately from the lack of sleep, so having the thin blonde lay on him all afternoon was a small price to pay for helping him sleep. Thomas gently twirls a few strands of blonde curls at the base of his lover’s neck every few seconds while the comfort of Newt’s steady breath against the pulse point on his neck almost lulls Thomas himself to sleep.

Everything was calm and perfect until Newt burst up and pushed Thomas away instantly, hyperventilating with tears in his eyes.

“Hey, hey calm down. It's okay, you're ok-” is all THomas got out before Newt took off running, only in socks, a hoodie, and boxers.

He passes by a bewildered Brenda and Minho, who had been eating lunch outside of the cabins.

“On it!” Brenda pushes Minho out of the way to chase after the blonde boy, darting after him.

Brenda purposefully keeps herself on Newt’s heels, banking on him wanting to stoop once he feels how close behind she is.

“Newton!” Brenda yells with determination flickering in her soft brown eyes, corralling the blonde toward the ocean.

Brenda doesn't stop until they are on the beach, running on soft sand, then she tackles the blonde teen to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Newt splutters, completely bewildered as he lies on his back in the cold night sand.

“Take your clothes off now.” Brenda orders.

“What?” Newt panics, pulling his arms up to cover his chest.

“Now.” Brenda pushes. “You can stay in your boxers, but take the hoodie off.”

Newt is so frazzled and emotional that he complies without thinking.

“We’re swimming.” Brenda tells him with no sympathy.

Brenda dives in with a t-shirt and shorts on into the waves without another glance back to make sure Newt was following.

Newt eventually decides against fighting her and heads for the water, wincing with how icey it is.

The two swim in shallow water past the break of the waves, just tall enough to be able to sink under fully.

“I know we never really got along because I'm Thomas’ friend and your Thomas’ guy, but he is one of my best friends and you're hurting him.” Brenda says with her arms crossed as she treads water.

“I'm not bloody trying to.” Newt splutters.

“I know.” Brenda nods, sympathetically. “But he's still hurt.”

“I feel like I'm drowning.” Newt admits, fear flickering in his big brown eyes as he stares at Brenda with an expression that conveys pure heartbreak and sorrow

“So let me show you how to float.” Brenda smiles softly.

Brendan lies on her back in the water, arms and legs peacefully spread out like a starfish. “This is what I do when I feel out of control. I float.”

“I can't do that.” Newt frets.

“Try.” Brenda pushes.

Newt panics at first, but eventually floats on his back with his eyes closed, letting the waves gently rock him.

“You can always float Newt, you just have to try.” Brenda tells him softly.

Frypan:

Frypan is beyond bewildered when he gets up in the middle of the night, craving some leftover noodles and in need of a glass of water, only to see the mother of the glade sitting forlornly on the kitchen counter and staring off with teary eyes.

“You alright there, buddy?” Frypan asks cautiously, having heard the whispers of the infamous bad dreams he was having.

“I'm okay.” Newt gives a fake smile and wipes away the tears that were clinging to his face.

“No you're not. Let me make you something.” Frypan says with no room for arguing. He whips up some warm tea and a leftover biscuit from this morning's breakfast, handing both to a grateful Newt.

The two stay in companionable silence, Frypan cleaning and wiping down the counters in preparation for tomorrow’s food as he watches Newt slowly nibble at the biscuit.

Then a teary-eyed and out of breath Thomas bursts into the kitchen and stops short of the pair.

“Newt.” Thomas breathes out a sigh of relief, “I didn't know where you were and no one was with you or had seen you and shuck-”

“I'm sorry Tommy.” Newt says, cutting him off. His eyes showed that he was sorry for more things than he could possibly ever express.

“I know.” Thomas sighs, “It's okay.” Both of them knew that it was not okay, but mutually understood that it would be okay because they had each other.

“Let's go back to bed, ey?” Newt hops down from the counter and gives Frypan a two-finger salute before throwing an arm around Thomas’ shoulder.

“I love you, you shank.” Newt reminds Thomas.

“I love you too.” Thomas melts and the two go home together.

Chapter Text

Prompt “Hi, I would love to read any kind of one shot about Newt's leg acting up, maybe him trying to keep it secret from Thomas who eventually notices it and is all worried, or just anything like that!”

This AU happens after Winston’s death but takes on the assumption that Thomas and Newt are already somewhat more than friends. Also operates on a bit of a stretched Canon timeline, so Thomas was in the glade for a while longer before Teresa came along.

To say the scorch was scorching hot was an understatement. To say the going was tough was an understatement. Everyone in their small hiking group was exhausted, parched, pissed, aching, starving, sweltering, grieving, and overall extremely cranky.

Thomas, who was at the front of the group, was trying to lead with the gusto and natural charismatic motivation that Newt typically provided for the group. The resident “mother of the Glade” was in a sour mood, quite understandably so, after the death of Winston and had taken to herding the back of their group.

Aris, Frypan, Newt, Minho, Thomas, and Teresa were all that was left of the Gladers. Thomas and Teresa, by comparison, were outsiders and newbies, but Newt, Minho, and Frypan had spent years in the maze before Thomas wandered along. Years and years of eating with Winston, joking, laughing and going through everything good or bad as a group. Thomas had no clue what the pain that they were feeling felt like.

Newt was the one who made the call and the one to hand him the gun. Brave, bold, and fearlessly kind Newt made that decision and surely it couldn't have been an easy one to live with. Sweet and kind Newt who bandaged upon Thomas’ cuts, was as loyal as a golden retriever, and slept every night curled up with Thomas in the same hammock. How could the same Newt who so delicately cares for Tomato plants be okay with the moral conundrum of handing his friend the key to ending his life? As more and more time passed with Thomas staring off into the endless desert in front of him while the others trudged behind him, he found himself thinking more and more of just how not okay the blonde must be.

Thomas and the older blonde Glader had established something back in the Glade. They had no words for it and had never really discussed what it was, but when Thomas lost control and the world started to spin rapidly around his head, all it took was Newt’s soft hand in his to feel okay again. When Thomas woke up, screaming and thrashing in his hammock, Newt’s hand rubbing his back was all it took to calm down. When Thomas was running the Maze, the thing that motivated him the most was knowing that the blonde would be at the entrance with a smile on his face and warm open arms to embrace the exhausted brunette with. Usually, even in the desert when there was no comfy hammock, Newt still fell asleep with his head on Thomas’ shoulder. But not tonight. In the brief glances Thomas was able to steal behind him, he could see that the blonde had a look of fury and irritated anger on his face.

Eventually, they pause for the night and start a fire, everyone staring into it bitterly with tears in their eyes and heaviness in their heart. They were one Glader short of the minimal amount of Gladers that were left.

Newt offers to take the first watch and Thomas glances up at him, seeing the cut on Newt’s cheek. When did he get that? Thomas hadn't even noticed the blonde boy getting cut. How could he have missed it? When was the last time Thomas had really bothered to take a good look at his blonde companion?

While everyone else lays down and closes their eyes, Thomas lays down and watches Newt watch the fire with a pained expression on his face until he can't take it anymore.

“Hey.” Thomas says quietly, knocking his knee against Newt’s as he scotches over closer to him.

He expected Newt to be grumpy or nudge him back or even shove him, but what he did not expect was Newt’s eyes to widen in pain and his whole body to tense up.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asks, bewildered.

“Fine.” Newt grits out, eyes bearing the same pain as he turns his gaze back to the fire.

“Hey Newt. I know that it wasn't an easy call to make, but you did the right thing with Winston-” Thomas starts.

“The right thing.” Newt scoffs. “Thomas, I basically killed one of my closest friends in the entire world. How is that the right thing?”

Newt calling him Thomas certainly stung, but Thomas kept in mind that the blonde was exhausted and grieving not only Winston, but also Alby, Chuck, and every other Glader that they had lost in the past few days. Just a mere week ago, Newt’s life was completely different and all of his favorite people were alive, but then Thomas came and shucked it all up. Of course Newt was feeling resentful of Thomas, Thomas concluded in his head.

“I'm going to take a leak.” Newt grumbles, and Thomas realizes that he's been so lost in thought that he hasn't even responded to Newt’s loaded question.

When Newt gets up, Thomas notices the way he grits his teeth and his entire body seems to sag to one side. It takes just three steps from Newt for Thomas to cover his mouth with his hand as he realizes just how pronounced his limp has become. How is this another thing that slipped through the cracks?

“Hey, wait up.” Thomas rushes, catching up with Newt’s pained and limping steps in just two strides.

“Going to come babysit me while I take a leak?” Newt scoffs, still limping forward.

“Your leg.” Thomas pouts, making Newt freeze and cringe at how hurt and sad Thomas sounds.

“What about it, greenie?” Newt snarks, eyes flickering with hurt as he faces away from Thomas still.

“It must really be hurting you, how come you didn't say anything?” Thomas says with pleading eyes.

“When was I supposed to say something? When we were being chased by cranks? Or when Winston was bitten? Or when we were being pelted by freaking lighting bolts? Or trekking miles and miles through the scorch? Or being chased by Grievers? When exactly would be a good time to say ‘Let's everyone sit down and put themselves at risk because Newt can't push through a little pain’” Newt snaps.

Thomas wraps his arms around Newt from behind and hooks his chin over the blonde’s bony shoulder. “I'm sorry I haven't been paying more attention to you.”

“How the bloody hell are you supposed to stop and take time for me when the world’s ending?” Newt splutters.

“You are my world.” Thomas says simply, “I'd be lost without you. Go pee and then come sit back with me at the fire. I have an idea for how to help you, at least for a little bit.”

“Alright don't look at me like that, I'll come sit with you just turn off the bloody puppy eyes.” Newt sighs, pulling out of Thomas’ arms and ruffling his brown hair affectionately.

When Newt hobbles back, Thomas is seated back by the wall of the shelter as he fiddles absently with his sleeve.

“Alright you crazy shank, let's see what magical cure for a shucked up leg you have up those sleeves of yours.” Newt nods, settling in next to the brunette.

“Put your bad leg on my lap.” Thomas requests.

“Your lap?” Newt cocks his head in confusion.

“Just trust me.” Thomas tells him.

“Alright, alright.” Newt placates, lifting his leg with a grimace and twisting his body so his legs are drooped over Thomas’ lap and he's sitting perpendicular to his best friend.

“Just tell me if I'm hurting instead of helping.” Thomas says to Newt as he starts to gently massage around Newt’s aching knee.

“You could never hurt me.” Newt promises, planting a quick kiss on Thomas’ cheek before laying back and letting his boyfriend make him feel better.

Chapter Text

Thomas Greene was having a no-good, terrible, horrible, and overall very bad day.

He slept through his alarm and was late to work. He ran out of coffee pods and forgot to replace them so he was stuck uncaffeinated. He did a load of his laundry with all of his work shirts with one of his husband’s red socks thrown in by accident and turned almost every work shirt pink. The steamer wasn't working and he forgot to go to the dry cleaners’ yesterday, so his only work shirt that wasn't pink was rumpled and wrinkled. His car had a flat that he didn't have time to change, so he was stuck taking the train to work. He forgot his data report for his super important meeting and looked like an idiot having to excuse himself to go get the report when he was called on to talk during the meeting. He had a killer migraine and the yellow lighting in the lab was no help. 

His job as a biomechanical engineer came with a lot of good things and he loved his work, but some days it made him want to throw his coffee cup at the wall and watch it explode. However, today his coffee cup was unfortunately empty so it would not be satisfying to do so.

On the train, Thomas sat slumped over and exhausted as he watched the drenching rain outside pound down on the tracks as lightning flashed. 

Thomas was exhausted, uncaffeinated, cranky, tired, and just wanted to melt into his bed as he trudged up the four flights of stairs to his apartment because of COURSE the elevator was out of service. Why would it be in service?

When Thomas dropped his satchel and everything fell out in it while he looked for his keys, all he could do was laugh without mirth.

Thomas fucking hated his day and walked in ready to punch the wall or burst into tears or even both.

But then his gaze instantly softened when he heard the sounds of his and Newt’s favorite television show on, playing Thomas’ favorite episode, and spotted his favorite dinner steaming on the table.

And all of a sudden all of the shitty things that had happened to Thomas that day seemed to be swept off to the far off and forgotten corners of his mind.

“Newt?” Thomas calls.

“In the living room, my love.” his favorite British accent called back, sounding soft and sleepy like he had been dozing off on the couch.

Newt was sitting on the couch with two glasses of Thomas’ favorite wine in front of him and facing the television looking so natural and comfortable that Thomas felt his stomach churn over with a warmness that spread throughout his entire body.

“Hey you.” Thomas smiles, leaning over the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around his husband from above him. Newt brings a hand up to curl his fingers around Thomas’ arms and gently stroke the brunette’s sleeve with his thumb.

“How was your day sweetheart?” Newt hums, gently nuzzling his head into Thomas’ arms.

“Perfect now that you're here.” Thomas beams, tilting Newt’s chin up with his index finger so a pair of huge loving chocolate-colored eyes look up at him with such admiration and pure innocent love that the last of Thomas’ worries melted away.

“Come here lovely.” Newt wiggles out of Thomas’ grasp and lays down across the couch, opening his arms out wide and motioning for Thomas to follow him.

Thomas wastes no time before clamoring on top of his husband and tucking his head under the blonde’s chin.

“That's alright just go ahead and squish me, you bugger.” Newt chuckles while wrapping his arms around his husband and planting an adoring kiss on the top of his head. Thomas closes his eyes feeling safe and warm and loved. Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Twenty-seven-year-old Thomas Murphy is in the lab inputting data in the computer when his cell phone rings. He works for a biomedical engineering company and works weird hours, but is known to be completely immersed in his work when working. Everyone important to him, aka anyone with his number, knows to call only in an emergency so they don't distract him. 

“Hello.” Thomas answers, annoyed. His coworker, Minho, shoots him a glance from the lab table that he's working at.

“Is this Thomas Murphy?” A female voice asks, and Thomas can hear beeping and murmurs in the background. 

“Yes.” Thomas answers, unsure where this is going.

“You're listed as an energy contact for Mr. Newton Isaacs.” She says.

“Yes, that's my fiancée.” Thomas nods, his blood running cold and pulse speeding up.

“I'm calling from Glade General Hospital. Mr. Isaacs was in a car accident this afternoon-” 

“Oh my god, fuck is he okay?” Thomas bursts up from his seat, gathering his phone and stuff into his work bag as quickly as he can manage. 

“We cannot disclose the conditions of patients over the phone.” The nurse says.

“Fuck, shit. I'll be right there.” Thomas curses, hands shaking and knees threatening to give as he hands up.

“What's the matter?” Minho asks, putting a solid hand on Thomas’ shoulder.

“Newt. Accident. Hospital.” Is all Thomas can choke out as he panics and hyperventilates. 

Newt always knew how to deal with Thomas’ anxiety. From the first sign of a bouncing leg or shaky hand, Newt always just knew. He knew what to say or when to rub Thomas’ back or when Thomas was too hot or too overstimulated or needed a hug. Newt seemed to just know what he needed from the moment that the pair had met. 

It was Thomas’ second week on the job five years ago and he was already having a shitty day when his computer would not let him log in after lunch, saying the password was incorrect several times. When Thomas called IT, a snarky blonde in an IT polo shirt showed up and listened to Thomas rant and rave with intent and polite eyes for a few minutes before disappearing and saying he knew exactly what Thomas needed. 

Newt had come back with a coffee and a smirk on his face and told Thomas to take a deep breath and a long sip of coffee and input his password again slowly. Naturally, the same password as always worked when Thomas slowed down. Newt had clapped him on the shoulder as he walked away laughing and Thomas had realized that he felt calm all of a sudden.

From then on, Thomas put in IT requests almost daily for the stupidest things just to talk to the blonde until Newt finally gave up and gave Thomas his number on a yellow post-it to just text him directly when he had an issue. The two texted all day long and Newt began taking his lunch break at the same time as Thomas until the two started hanging out after work together all of the time and eventually admitted mutual feelings.

That was five years, two shared apartments, and an entire engagement ago. Newt got off earlier than Thomas, as he had actual hours while Thomas just worked in the lab as long as he needed, so he had gone home to cook dinner for the pair like always.

“Okay, let's get in the car.” Minho does not even hesitate to grab his keys and go with Thomas.

Glade General was about fifteen minutes from work, but Minho managed to make it in ten.

“I'm here for Newton Isaac.” Thomas pants, glancing up at the bored and unimpressed receptionist as she takes Thomas in with some judgment before typing in his name.

“Relationship to patient?” She asks while chewing gum.

“Fiancée, you guys called me, I'm his emergency contact. Thomas Murphy.” Thomas rushes. 

“He's in room 505, on the fifth floor, making a left.” She tells him.

Thomas barely has time to thank her before rushing off. 

As he raced down the hallway, practically slipping on the sleek linoleum, visions of Newt all pale and bloody while hooked up to all of the possible machines lying under harsh fluorescent lights in a blood-stained pale blue gown danced through his head.

When Thomas burst in, Newt was sitting upright in a hospital bed wearing his old scuffed high-top Converse, his ratty old faded jeans, and his coffee-stained IT Polo. He had a shiner over his eye and a few stitches across his cheek as well as his right arm in a sling, but he was awake and breathing which was better than Thomas had been imagining.

“Hello love.” Newt smiles up with a hopelessly in love look as he sees Thomas.

“Newt holy shit you asshole.” Thomas bursts out into tears.

“Darling, it's okay. I'm okay.” Newt cops, a frown gracing his angelic face. 

Thomas hops up and squishes in next to Newt, who tucks his lover’s head under his chin and throws the arm that's not in a sling around him. 

“They just told me you were in an accident and to come here.” Thomas sobs.

“It's okay sweetheart. I'm okay. Some asshole blew a stop sign and t-boned my car but I was so lucky and it all turned out okay. My phone was smashed to smithereens, but it's okay we’ll get a new one.” Newt soothes, rubbing his only free hand over Thomas’ back.

“You're the one in a hospital bed and here I am crying.” Thomas snorts, wiping the snot from his nose with his sleeve. 

“I'm so lucky to be loved so much by you.” Newt beams. 

Later, when the two were at home laying in bed with a bag of ice over Newt’s pounding head as he layed in Thomas’ arms, giggling as Thomas drew stupid doodles on the cast on his arm, they were both thinking how lucky they were to be loved by the other.

Chapter Text

“Calm down, someone's going to think you're a druggie trying to get painkillers and call the police.” Thomas chides with an eye roll, placing a hand on his husband’s knee to stop his restless leg from bouncing a hole in the floor.

“I can't bloody calm down Tommy. You try calming down when you know that at any second some doctor fella in a white coat is going to come bring you to a room, stick a needle in your arm, and cut shit out of you while you're passed out and vulnerable.” Newt manages to snap back, speech garbled by him biting his cuticles.

“Jesus Chirst.” Thomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation as he hangs his head in defeat, “You're getting your wisdom teeth out, not getting your liver taken out in the back of a van in Mexico.”

“Thomas. They’re gonna cut out my perfectly good teeth for no good reason. Slice my gums open and leave me with stitches. What if they take out my liver or something?” Newt pleads, with wide brown puppy-dog eyes.

Thomas can't help but melt at the ridiculousness of his usually strong and unshakable husband in the face of a dentist and some general anesthesia. The nurse had told Newt to wear comfortable clothes, but he insisted on wearing his black skinny jeans, a light blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, and his turtle shell glasses in case he needed to read the fine print in any consent forms to make sure they weren't stealing his organs. Such serious attire on such a nervous wreck made Thomas’ annoyance at his husband melt a little, but not a lot.

“You're so dramatic. No one wants your liver, there's more Earl Grey tea than the Boston tea party in there.” Thomas quips.

“Tommmyyy, you're being so mean to me.” Newt whines, starting to bounce his knee again.

“Taawhhmayyy.” Thomas mocks Newt’s accent before intertwining his fingers with Newt’s, “You're gonna be fine, you big baby. I would never let someone steal your liver.”

“Promise?” Newt demands.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Thomas mocks again. “You will be fine. When I got mine out, it sucked for like two days but I got ice cream and my mom let you sleep over to take care of me. And all my organs stayed intact.”

“Yeah, but you were nineteen when you got yours out. I'm 25, it's much harder on older people.” Newt insists.

“I'd say you're not older people, but you do go to bed by nine and have no knowledge of how to use your own phone.” Thomas laughs.

“Newton Greene?” a nurse interrupts when she calls from the front desk.

Newt gulps and rises to his feet and Thomas follows suit, “That’s me.”

“Is there someone here to drive you home?” she intones.

“Yep, that's me. Thomas Greene.” Thomas raises a hand.

“Sign these forms, and you can come back and pick him up in about an hour. We’ll bring him out to the waiting room when he’s done.” she tells him.

“You're leaving me here?” Newt says sadly.

“No, don't worry I'll be in the waiting room the whole time.” Thomas reassures him. The two fill out some insurance forms before the nurse beckons for Newt to come in the door to the clinic part of the office.

“Can he come with me? Please? Just until I'm out.” Newt begs, looking completely petrified.

“He's never been under before and he's a complete stress ball.” Thomas explains to the unimpressed nurse.

“Sure.” the nurse relents with an eye roll, “Follow me to room A5.”

Thomas and Newt go into a regular dental room where a nurse checks Newt’s vitals and has him sign a few more consent forms before the dentist in the white coat comes in to place the IV.

“You're okay, you're fine.” Thomas reassures Newt, taking the hand that was not being prepped with an alcohol swab and holding it tight.

“I don't want to do this.” Newt whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It's okay. He's just gonna stick a tiny needle in your arm and when you wake up, I'll be there to take you home and take care of you.” No longer teasing Newt and growing genuinely concerned about his husband. Newt was never afraid of anything. He was the first to run into the unknown and jump off a cliff without a second thought. He gets his shots every year, so it's not the needles he's afraid of, but still the twenty-five year old lays there trembling with his chest heaving nervously as they insert the needle.

After about five seconds, Newt’s eyes fling open in a panic and he sits straight up. “Shouldn't I be out? Is something wrong?”

“It's okay, it takes a few seconds.” the dentist reassures.

“Tommy, I'm scar-” Newt manages in a half-sob before his eyes flutter closed and he falls back in the chair.

“It's okay, angel.” Thomas whispers, leaning over to wipe away the tears that had trailed down his husband’s cheeks and placing a quick kiss on his forehead before standing to leave.]

Thomas retreated back to the waiting room to answer some emails on his phone and play some Candy Crush to pass the time. After only about forty-five minutes, the same nurse appears back and calls for Thomas.

“Thomas Greene.” she says, sounding annoyed.

“Yes, what's the matter? Is he okay?” Thomas’ heart begins to race as he instantly clammers to his feet. What if something did happen to Newt?

“He's fine and the procedure is done, he's just a little emotional and won't let us put gauze in his mouth or clean his face or anything else that we need to do to help him.” the nurse explains, “Can you come back and calm him down?”

“Of course.” Thomas breathes out a sigh of relief.

When he's led back to room A5, two nurses are trying to get Newt to take his hands off of his own face as he cries.

“Hey, give him some space please, thanks so much.” Thomas instructs quietly.

“Newt, hey look at me, it's Tommy.” Thomas says, going up to Newt and gently prying his hands away and holding them in his own.

“Tommy, they stole my teeth.” Newt sobs.

“We actually paid them to do so.” Thomas reminds him while the nurses work to clean him up.

“We did?” Newt gasps in horror.

“Yeah, over $500 that insurance wouldn't cover.” Thomas tells him with a spark of teasing in his eyes.

“Did they steal all my teeth?” Newt asks.

“Nope, we could only afford for them to take 4. The rest are still there.” Thomas assures him.

“Thank god.” Newt sighs, mouth garbled with spit and blood that dribbles down his chin.

“Now lay still so they can put gauze in your mouth.” Thomas instructs, caressing Newt’s hair while the nurses work to put gauze in Newt’s mouth.

“You're gonna be okay. Let's get you home and get you some ice cream.” Thomas promises, staring lovingly at his dramatic and endearing best friend.

“You're gonna take care of me?” Newt manages through the gauze.

“I took the next three days off work and we have the whole weekend to recover. Of course I'm going to take care of you.” Thomas smiles.

And the two did spend the next few days huddled up together, binging Netflix, eating ice cream, and having Thomas ice Newt’s face before he was as good as new again.

Chapter Text

Sonya was always under the impression that her brother had the perfect marriage. How could he not? His husband, Thomas, was his high-school sweetheart. The two had their dream jobs with Newt as a writer and Thomas as a biomedical engineer at a huge company that paid rather lavishly.

The two had a gorgeous sprawling mansion on the beach in southern California with a huge inground pool, waterfall, hammocks under shady trees, a huge garden that the two tended to as a hobby, and four acres of land for their two dogs to run about on.

Thomas was undeniably handsome with his oversized sweaters and bright smile. He was charming, smart, and one of the kindest humans that Sonya had ever met.

He was also a love-sick fool for her brother and worshiped the ground that he walked on. Thomas would do absolutely anything to hear Newt laugh or smile. When Newt had the flu last month, Thomas slept on the bathroom floor with him. Despite how hard Thomas worked, he would come home every night and cook dinner with Newt while still having endless energy to hear about his husband’s day and read what Newt had written during the day. Even though Thomas was constantly going and doing, he always found time to lie down with Newt and listen to him read because Thomas knows how much it calms Newt down when he's anxious. Sonya has witnessed how kind and patient Thomas gets when Newt is panicking or worked up. She’s seen Thomas sing Newt a lullaby and cradle him to sleep when the three shared a hotel room when they stayed in Australia together last year/

Newt, for his part, is just as love-sick. He wakes up early every day to cook Thomas breakfast, pack his lunch, and will never let Thomas leave without one of Newt’s little post-it's of encouragement that he writes out for Thomas. Growing up, Newt tended to be shy and rigid, but Thomas has brought forth a new side in Newt. Now, whenever Thomas is stressed or stuck on something, Newt just comes up with the craziest ideas like swimming in their pool in Halloween costumes or having a picnic in the rain to shake things up for Thomas. Her brother is always the first to pull Thomas in to include him in absolutely anything whether it's a slow-dance at a wedding or meeting their friends at a bar. Newt will also never shut up about how perfect and smart and amazing his husband is to the point where it annoys Sonya.

So, when Sonya came over for a barbeque with their whole family to celebrate Newt’s 25th birthday, Sonya was surprised to see that they weren't speaking to each other.

“Why’s Newt so quiet today?” Gally inquiries, feeling an automatic sense of protection over Newt. 

Newt had been quiet today now that Sonya thinks of it, keeping to himself and not even swimming. Newt loved to swim. He liked the feeling of being underwater, the pressure was soothing when he was anxious. He used the pool every single day at the house, doing physical therapy stretches for his leg under water. Now, the birthday blonde was just lounging on a chair in the sun a few feet away while everyone prepared for dinner.

“How the fuck should I know, he's not even speaking to me.” Thomas rolls his eyes while cooking hot-dogs on the barbeque, shirtless and looking rather infuriated.

“He's not speaking to you?” Sonya gapes.

“What did you do?” Gally accuses, eyes narrowing.

“He's being a brat.” Thomas tells them flatly.

“Am not, Thomas.” Newt shoots from his chair, rising to his feet.

Thomas breathes a deep sigh, “I cheated on Newt-.”

“You did WHAT?” everyone splutters. Newt swaggers over with his arms crossed over his chest, looking smug for a second before Thomas continues.

“-in his fucking dream!” Thomas spits out.

“I can't even defend you.” Sonya admits.

Gally averts his gaze and scratches his eyebrow.

“Newt, I was ready to beat him up.” Teresa whines.

“See, total brat. Like I said.” Thomas points out, pulling the last of the hot-dogs off of the grill before shutting the BBQ lid and taking his “Kiss the Chef” apron off. 

Before Newt even has time to understand what’s happening, Thomas scoops him off of his feet and tosses him over his shoulder.

“Thomas, put me down you shucking slint headed shuck faced-” Newt rants for a few seconds before Thomas tosses him, ungracefully and unceremoniously into the water.

“I would never cheat on you, looser.” Thomas tells the blonde when he resurfaces, “Clear your head for a bit and then come to me with a real complaint when you figure out what's actually bothering you.”

Sonya can't help but smile at just how well Thomas treats her brother, handling Newt’s insecurities and anxiety with such grace and kindness while pushing him to be better at the same time. Sonya couldn't have done that better herself.

“I'm so sorry Tommy, I just had such a bad day and a really scary dream last night. Can you help me up?” Newt pleads with huge puppy dog eyes and tears glistening in his eyes.

Sonya can't help but giggle to herself, knowing what's about to come. Like Newt would ever ask for help up when there's a perfectly-good ladder three feet away from him.

“Of course, come here. Let's go get you dry- AH” Thomas shrieks as Newt pulls him in.

Everyone laughs from the side of the pool at the two husbands wrestling each other in the pool, a litany of frustrated curses and shrieks of laughter erupting in cycles from both of the two equally.

After about ten-minutes of their antics, the two emerge from the pool, dripping wet and holding hands.