A/N: Wow, your amazing response to chapter 10 totally overwhelmed me! I can't thank you enough, all the wonderful reviews you wrote made me so very happy! You're the best.

Christmas is finally just around the corner! Soon all the rush and hurries will be over and we can just sit down and enjoy our holidays with our loved ones. Here's a little Christmas present for you! I'm afraid this chapter isn't exactly one of the happiest I've ever written, but it's a new chapter after all. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! x

It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't
It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed

Newt stumbled his way through the thick bushes and knee-length grass as he wandered off the path in the forest, tears in his eyes blurring his sight. Sharp branches kept cutting the skin of his face and arms as he pushed through the shrubbery, breathing in uneven gasps, his heart pounding painfully, unevenly in his chest.

His ears kept listening to every possible sound of approach behind him, hoping with a false hope that the dark-haired boy would come after him. At the same time he could feel desperation, hurt and grief eating their way through his heart, knowing full well no one would follow him.

He hates you, he hates you, he hates you..

What the hell were you even thinking?

How could you possibly be so bloody stupid as to even believe for a second he could feel something for you?

He can't even stand looking at you anymore.

You're nothing, nothing, nothing..

They were just dreams. Just dreams.

None of it was real.

Newt's foot suddenly got stuck under a thick root sticking out of the ground. He fell hard to the ground, yelping in surprise and then growling in pain. A sharp ache sliced through his left shoulder as it hit the forest floor since he didn't manage to soften the fall in any way. His lungs were out of breath and for a moment his vision went black, white dots dancing behind his eyelids.

As the pain started to slowly subside, Newt rolled gently to his back. He opened his eyes and stared at the trees hovering high over him, coloring the world with all the different shades of brown and green. He tried to draw some air into his lungs again and felt tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

All the fury and anger had drained off of him only to be replaced by overwhelming hurt, grief and misery. He could still feel the all consuming hatred radiating off Thomas's whole being. He could still hear the harsh words, the accusations, the contempt in his voice. Thomas's eyes had been so cold, so accusing.. How could he say things like that to me? Why wouldn't he listen to me when I tried to explain?

Newt had to shut his eyes tightly as he felt another fresh wound stinging and starting to bleed inside him. The memories of drunken Alby flooded his mind; his unfocused gaze; his clinging, bruising fingers; his jealous, sneery voice; his forceful, unyielding hold of him.. It all was so unlike Alby and it still felt so bizarre Newt could hardly believe it had happened at all. Yet, there were way too many reminders of all that had happened in the past few hours, the least of them being the stinging bruises in his arms and his sore lips.

"How could you do that to me?" the words slipped past Newt's trembling lips, a whisper of pain and disbelief in the quiet forest around him. Alby's behaviour had scarred Newt deeper than he could've thought possible. After all, the dark-skinned, gentle and fair boy had been his anchor all these years. Alby had been there during Newt's darkest days and helped him get to his feet again. Newt had always been able to trust Alby unconditionally and lean on his steady, strong and warm presence whenever he needed it. Their relationship hadn't been entirely platonic, and they had had their moments, but all the crush Newt had had on Alby at some point over the years had faded long ago. He loved Alby, but he couldn't see a future with him. Alby didn't make his heart jump to his throat, he didn't make him loose sleep for dreaming about him, he didn't make him feel warm and tingly all over whenever their eyes locked. Alby wasn't anything like Thomas was to him.

Since the day Thomas had arrived to the Glade, the dark-haired Greenie had grown to mean more and more to Newt. He had slowly but surely sneaked his way straight to Newt's heart. By now Newt already realised his feelings towards Thomas weren't anything to take lightly. It wasn't just a passing crush or a shallow need. What he felt for Thomas was something way more deeper. Even though the two of them had known each other for barely two weeks, in his heart Newt knew he had never felt this way towards anyone else in his life, past or present, and probably never would. They shared the kind of connection he would be a fool not to acknowledge it.

The fact that both Alby and Thomas hated him and thought Newt was now the kind of person he had always stood strictly against was enough to make Newt's walls crumble down finally and completely. He curled on his side on the dirty forest floor, hugging his knees and burying his face against them as violent sobs started to escape his throat, his whole body trembling. The lack of sleep, all the shocks and the roller-coaster of emotions his mind had been through for the past hours, days to be honest, were starting to overwhelm him for good. Tears streaming down his face, Newt finally succumbed to the black abyss swirling through his mind, body and soul.

*.*.*

"Hey, Newt, wake up."

There was a hand on Newt's shoulder, shaking him slightly. Newt drew in a fast, sharp breath and started to blink his heavy eyelids open. He turned his head slightly, his stiffened neck cracking a bit as his eyes tried to focus on the boy hovering over him.

"Minho?" Newt croaked, his voice hoarse from sleep. Slowly he started to become aware of his surroundings and the aches on his body. He frowned deeply as he eyed the darkened forest around him.

"Yeah. Man, you're a mess. Figured it'd be best to get you out of the woods already," Minho muttered, crouched down beside him.

Something about Minho's words and the fact that the light of the day had remarkably changed was bugging in the back of Newt's mind. "Wait, are you saying I've been bloody sleeping all day?" he asked, horrified.

Minho shrugged. "I guess you have, princess. Everyone whom I asked about you were saying they had only seen you shortly in the morning. They figured you didn't want to be found so they left you alone. When I came back from the Maze you were nowhere to be found so I got worried and here I am," Minho smirked at him good-naturedly.

Newt had risen to lean on his elbows and swept a hand through his dirty hair. Minho looked at him with scrutinizing eyes.

"Newt, are you okay?" Minho asked, his voice laced with worry, his eyebrows drawn.

Newt sighed heavily. "No, Minho, I'm not okay," he answered truthfully. Minho looked as if he was gonna say something but Newt cut him off fast, "Let's just get out of here, okay?"

Minho closed his mouth and nodded, helping Newt to get up. As Minho hooked his arm behind Newt's shoulders, helping to steady him, Newt pushed him off, mock-irritated. "I'm not a bloody baby, Minho!" Newt scowled but his eyes betrayed him. He looked at Minho with warm gratitude in his eyes as he nodded his head to sign they should get going.

Minho smiled at Newt and clapped the blonde-haired boy to his back before falling to step beside him.

*.*.*

Newt went straight to the showers. He wondered his luck as he found the small room completely empty. He stripped quickly and stepped under the spray of water. As the warm water hit against the sore muscles of his back and ran over his filthy skin, Newt's mind was blessingly empty. Eyes closed, he stood under the spray for good fifteen minutes before using the soap and cleaning his body.

Newt grimaced slightly as he realised he had to wear the same clothes he had arrived with. Accepting his fate, he toweled his hair and put his clothes on, swearing to change them as soon as he arrived to his own room.

Minho was waiting for him outside the shower room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He smirked happily as Newt stepped out of the door.

"Ah, you start to look like a human being again," Minho quipped. He stepped forward, handing Newt a bag he had been holding in his other fist. Newt scowled but accepted the bag, taking a look inside. A delicious smell of fresh bread rolls, apples and goat cheese hit his nostrils and his stomach let out a loud growl.

Minho snickered. "Figured you might be hungry by now."

Newt closed the door and looked at his friend, a warm feeling squeezing his chest. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

"Nah, it's nothing. Anything for my buddy," Minho reassured, winking his eye.

Newt let out a laugh, feeling remarkably better than just hours ago. "Listen, I think I'm gonna head off for my room. I feel I could get back to bed already and anyway, I.." Newt's voice grew unsure by the end of his sentence.

Minho came to his help quickly. "I get it. Go ahead, sleepyhead. You sure could use all the sleep you can possibly get. I wonder if those bags under your eyes will ever smooth down," Minho said with a wondering tone. Newt slapped him in the arm but Minho only laughed.

"Okay, okay. See ya tomorrow, shank," Minho farewelled, raising his hand and starting to back away.

"Good that," Newt answered. He watched as the Asian boy walked back towards the kitchen. Newt sighed, turning around and starting to make his way toward the Homestead. Stubbornly he kept his thoughts on his warm bed waiting for him in his room. He wouldn't let his mind slip astray. Sleep would let him forget the pain hovering in his chest. Sleep was the only thing he needed.

Oddly enough, as soon as Newt rested his head on his pillow after having eaten and changed, dreams claimed him, enfolding his exhausted mind like the warm blanket around his body.