Ahh! WTF! Sorry to what ever happened to this FIC brides. I have no idea what happened!
Thomas clutched his pillow. He wondered what Newt would be doing right now if he hadn't died. If he hadn't turned into a crank. If the world hadn't turned to shit and decided to kill majority of it's population.
Would Newt be happy? Would he still be the leader? Would he have made paradise 100 times better then it was? Better farming? More social? Would he be proud of Thomas' leadership?
Thomas sighed. Hearing Newt's pleading words for death, and having to pull the trigger was the toughest moment of his life.
How could he have failed Newt? But also, how could have granted him, his last wish? What option was the right thing to do?
"How could I have killed my best friend. Taken an innocent life." He mumbled to himself.
"Because he asked ya to." Came a voice.
Thomas froze and looked to the door, seeing the Asian ex-runner.
"You talk in your sleep, Ya know? Beggin' for forgiveness."
Thomas shook his head. He didn't deserve forgiveness. Not from anyone.
"It's fine." He shrugged.
"It's really not. We're worried 'bout Ya." Minho stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
Thomas sat up, looking down at his clean hands.
"I can't seem to get the blood off, ya know." He whispered.
Minho frowned.
"He wanted ya to do it. He'd be thankful. That much I know."
Thomas sighed and looked to the older boy.
"Will you lay with me till I fall asleep?" He asked, with desperation clear as day etched on his face.
"Of course. Lay down." Minho whispered, pushing lightly on the younger boy's shoulder. He got under the blankets and wrapped his arm around Thomas.
"Get some sleep."
Thomas smiled for what felt like the first time in ages.
"Thanks Minho."