Last Words: Thomas' Goodbye to Newt

"You're beautiful...

and I don't know what to do,

cuz I'll never be with you." –James Blunt

"Sometimes...the person you'd take a bullet for

is behind the trigger." –Fallout Boy

It hurt. Thomas had never known his heart could break this badly. But here, pinned beneath Newt on the hard pavement, looking up into his friend's sickly eyes, he felt his heart shattering into tiny pieces. He knew what Newt wanted. He could feel the gun in his pocket. But he couldn't do it.

"Thomas, you have to do this for me," Newt begged, his voice desperate and hoarse. His blonde hair fell jaggedly into his eyes, unnoticed. "You have to kill me."

Thomas felt the pieces of his heart tumble into some dark place inside of him. He shook his head, swallowing hard. "I won't do that, Newt," he replied sorrowfully. "Not to you."

Newt shut his eyes, shuddering. "No, I trusted you," he gasped out, as though he had to fight for every bit of his sanity. "I gave the note to you, I trusted you. You have to, Tommy, you have to kill me. Before it's too late."

"I can't." Thomas wanted to move, to stand and reason with Newt, but Newt's hands gripped his shoulders hard. He was trapped. Behind him, he knew the van was waiting to take him to WICKED's headquarters. And he knew that nearby, a pack of hungry Cranks were swarming something foul to eat. But he was only worried about the boy slowly losing himself in front of him. "There has to be another way. Come with me. Please, I can try to do something, help you—"

"HELP me?" Newt repeated disbelievingly. "Look at me! I'm turning into an animal. I'm going to lose my mind, I'm going to lose everything, and become one of THEM. I can already feel it in my own mind, Thomas. I can FEEL it eating me away..." He trailed off in a moan of pain and despair, hanging his head. His shoulders trembled.

"Newt...I...I can't," Thomas said weakly. "I just want to—"

"Dammit, I'm scared!" Newt shouted, cutting him off. Tears glistened in his eyes. "I'm so scared of that moment when I'm going to lose myself for good! I can't go through that!"

"Newt..."

"Kill me, Thomas!"

"I—I..."

"Kill me!"

"No, I—"

"Kill me! Do it now!" In one, blindingly fast motion, Newt snatched the wrist of Thomas' hand, the hand he'd curled around his gun. He forced Thomas' arm upward and pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. Thomas felt real terror fire inside of him. Newt gazed down at him imploringly, tears escaping down his cheeks. He looked so broken, and it hurt so bad. "Kill me," he whispered. "God, please, kill me. Before I turn into a monster."

Thomas' throat closed up, constricted by the sob he was fighting. "I can't," he whimpered. "Newt, I can't."

"Why? Why can't you do this for me?"

Thomas stared at him, tears welling in his eyes. Then, in a burst of strength, he suddenly whipped the gun away from Newt's head; he slammed it to the pavement beside them, pushing himself up into a sitting position. It all happened in the space of a second. And in the next second, he had one hand tangled in Newt's hair, the blonde still straddling him, and they were kissing.

Newt gasped in shock. But Thomas angled his head, softly stroking his thumb over Newt's neck, and Newt melted into him. Thomas was floored by the way he reacted when Newt kissed him back. God, it was just...Newt's lips on his, so soft and sweet, his hands still on Thomas' shoulders. He tasted like the sun, and warm honey, and passion. Thomas let out a tiny sound of pleasure from the back of his throat. He could never get enough of this, never. They were kissing desperately, drunkenly, as though they knew this was the only kiss they'd ever have.

When Thomas pulled back, he whispered brokenly, "I can't do it...because I love you."

Newt's dark blue eyes brimmed with agony at the words. He took a shaky breath. "Don't—don't say that," he stammered thickly. "Please don't say that. It only makes it harder. You don't love me, Thomas."

"I do," Thomas argued. He cradled Newt's face gently in his hands. "I love you, and I've always loved you, since the first day I saw you. You can't pretend I don't. And you can't pretend that you feel nothing for me." He placed a tiny, loving kiss on Newt's nose and Newt whimpered in defeat.

"Thomas..." he murmured, choked. "Tommy. What do you expect me to do?" He looked at Thomas with unbelievable sadness.

"To come with me," Thomas mumbled in a small voice. "Give me a chance. Let me try to help you. I want to save you."

"You can't save me," Newt whispered. "And if I come with you, you'll just watch me slowly go insane. I have no idea what I'll do. If I hurt you, I'd never forgive myself. That's why you need to do this for me. This one thing."

Thomas shook his head. His chest ached with the tears he was holding back. "Don't ask me to do this. I'll do anything for you, you know that, but not this."

"This is what I want," Newt murmured. He reached up and softly caressed Thomas' cheek. His body shivered from the effort of keeping his diseased mind under control. "I need this. Just..." He slowly picked up the gun from the ground beside them and pressed it into Thomas' hand. He folded Thomas' fingers over it, one on the trigger, and touched the weapon to the side of his head. "...just let me die as myself."

Thomas looked at the gun in his grasp, then at Newt's pleading face. He steeled himself and tightened his grip. A sob tore from his throat. "Oh, Newt," he cried, bringing one hand to his mouth as tears streamed down his face. "Oh, God, please, please, Newt, don't make me do it."

Newt brushed the tears from Thomas' cheeks with his thumbs, cooing soothing, hushed words. "Shhhh, darling, it's okay," he breathed. "Angel, it's okay. This is what I want, I swear." He rested his hands on Thomas's shoulders. "Please, Tommy. Please."

Thomas searched his gaze, hoping feebly for some way to change his mind. But there was nothing. He kissed Newt's mouth briefly and murmured, "okay."

His hold on the gun stiffened.

He could feel the trigger under his finger.

Very quietly, Newt closed his eyes and whispered, "I love you, Thomas."

They were his last words.