"Thomas, you have to do it."
"Newt, no, you can't expect me to do it. I-I can't, n-no, you can't make me."
Newt let out a groan.
"Thomassssss."
He ran his fingers through his hair and groaned again.
"Thomas, you have no idea how much it hurts. How hard it is for me to even talk calmly right now. I'm so scared… you have to do it…."
"I can't! I care about you too much. You can't give me a decision like that. I won't choose! Everyone's leaving, you know that as well I do. All the tests, all the trials, all the subjects and variables, they mean something, and I can't lose another person to them!"
Newt dug his fingers into the ground, and as he leaned over to place his head on the bright yellow sand, Thomas could see a bright red gash on the back of his neck.
Newt let out a hollow moan and seemed to crumple in on himself.
"I was so sure you could do it Thomas. If anyone could do it, it would be you. I really thought you could give me the perfect death….."
Before Thomas could contemplate what Newt meant, the latter fell forward, collapsing onto the sand, which was being dyed a horrible red.
"Newt!" Thomas yelped, catching the taller boy and cradling him like a small child.
Newts hand flew forward to latch onto his friends arm, and only then did Thomas realized that Newts hand was a bright, ruby red.
Thomas chocked.
"Newt," he whispered, rocking the boy and brushing some dirty blonde hair from his face.
Newt's eyes had fluttered closed, leaking tears that trickled down his dirt streaked face.
Then Thomas saw it. The silver hilt of a knife protruding from the Blonde's stomach, which was pooling blood, soaking through the white t-shirt that covered him.
Thomas felt his heart stop.
"I'm sorry Tommy," Newt rasped. "I had to do it. It's the only way…."
A lump rose in Thomas's chest and he choked as the tears began to fall.
"I love you Tommy. You're the best friend I could have had. Thank you for making me see the light when all I could see was darkness."
Thomas's tears were falling into Newt's hair and mixing with the tears on his cheeks.
"Newt, I'm so sorry, I-"but he couldn't talk anymore. He couldn't breathe.
Blood soaked his t-shirt, but he didn't care, he just held on tighter.
"Tommy you didn't do anything wrong. You saved us. All of us. You are the real leader."
Sobs were racking through Thomas's chest and his whole body was shaking. He'd never felt this much pain in his whole life.
"You can't die, you can't, and you're the glue….."
"WAS the glue Tommy. Now you need to let go. Unstick yourself."
But Thomas couldn't do that. Newt was too much a part of him.
Newt's chest was rising and falling rapidly, his face pale, and his hair softly glinting in the late afternoon sun.
Thomas knew all hope was lost on the thin British boy now, and all he could do now was hold him and cry.
They were silent for a few minutes, just grieving and crying together as time ran out.
"Thomas." Newt whispered.
Thomas opened his tear-filled eyes to look at the blonde boy.
"Get them out, ok? Keep them safe. Stay alive. Make sure you finish what we started."
The boy's chest was slowly rising up and down now, and he only had moments left.
"Ok," Thomas whispered, stroking the taller boy's face gently. Softly, he leant over and pressed his lips against Newt's forehead.
Newt's face cracked to show a small smile.
"I'll miss you Tommy." He whispered, and then slowly, he let out his breath.
"I'll miss you too," Thomas whispered, but it was already too late.
Thomas kept cradling the boy even after he had gone limp. He was crying so hard that he thought his ribs would break.
He lost track of time as he sat there, covered in blood, sobbing, and cradling a broken angel in his arms.