Chapter Text
"Newt, where's my- Newt?"
Thomas freezes in the doorway, staring into Newt's room. His jaw clenches. The house is silent; Minho is out, and because Thomas hasn't seen Newt at all in a few hours, he'd figured that the boy had holed himself up in his room - Newt does that sometimes. But the room is empty; Newt isn't here.
Thomas cocks his head, thinking. The house is too quiet, even with it just being the two of them here, and now that Thomas has realised he doesn't actually know Newt's whereabouts, there's an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.
He's probably overreacting, though. Newt's probably in the kitchen (even though Thomas has just been in there and Newt was nowhere to be seen), or maybe he's in the bathroom. But Thomas knows he isn't, and he feels his fingers begin to fiddle with each other as nerves begin to fill him.
Actually, now that he's beginning to think about it, Thomas realises that Newt has been acting off all day. He and Minho had been in the kitchen that morning, and Newt had stumbled in, clearly exhausted, and headed straight to make a cup of coffee. It had been as if he hadn't been aware that Thomas and Minho were there because he hadn't said a word, just made his coffee and stumbled back out again.
Thomas doesn't like seeing Newt like this, so low-spirited and depressed. When Thomas would find him in the early hours of the morning, skulking in the darkness of the kitchen, so sleep-deprived that he looks half-dead. The things he says in those moments; he completely opens up, and the things he talks about, sometimes, terrify Thomas. Newt doesn't normally talk about his feelings, doesn't like to burden other people with his problems (despite how many times Thomas has told him that he wants Newt to talk to him, that he isn't a burden), so Thomas likes to take advantage of those rare situations, and he'll listen because it's what Newt needs, even if the boy denies it.
But sometimes Newt says frightening things. Sometimes he talks like he doesn't have any hopes left, like all happiness is drained from him, and it terrifies Thomas. But then Newt's fine the next day, and he's happier than he's ever been and Thomas almost forgets about those late night conversations.
Almost.
But not now. Now, all Thomas can think about is how Newt can spend days on end in a trance, barely speaking a word to anyone and how, sometimes, they won't even notice. They'll put it down to Newt's crankiness, and Thomas and Minho will just give him space because it's what they think he needs but it isn't and Thomas knows that but if he tries to talk to Newt, Newt will push him away and Thomas can't handle Newt being angry at him. So he leaves him alone, because, sometimes, he doesn't know how to help. Newt is stubborn; Thomas has tried to push him to accept comfort, to just let Thomas hug him until he falls asleep because Newt, you look shucking exhausted, man but Newt won't listen.
He never listens.
And now Thomas is worried, because Newt has gone somewhere and Thomas doesn't know where and he's scared. He's actually scared because Newt isn't himself right now and Thomas knows the thoughts that go around in Newt's head, knows what that boy will think about when he's alone and feeling like this and Thomas needs to find him right now.
"Newt?" he calls out, aimed into the hallway. He glances around inside the room one more time, searching for any clues about where Newt could have gone.
There's no answer; Thomas tries not to let it get to him. He's definitely overreacting, Newt does this sometimes. Sometimes, he needs space, and he hides away from everyone else.
But where? Thomas doesn't understand where Newt has gone.
He steps out of the room, frowning at the silence. Shoving his hands inside his pockets to hide the fact that they're shaking, he makes his way down the hallway, glancing into each room he passes, but Newt isn't anywhere.
Thomas soon reaches the door to the attic, and he's about to walk away when he notices it's open. He goes to close it, but then he realises that the door is never open, so why is it open now? His heart feels heavy when he pushes the door open more and climbs the stairs, and glances around the attic. Still no sign of Newt, but Thomas's stomach drops when he notices the window. It's open.
Newt is on the roof.
Thomas takes a deep breath to calm himself. There's probably a reasonable explanation for this. Except, there isn't, because how can there be a reasonable explanation for being on the roof of a house?!
His hands shake, even inside his pockets, and he closes in on the window, desperate for Newt to not be there and for this to all just be a coincidence, and for Newt to just be safe inside the house because if this is really happening, Thomas doesn't think he'll be able to handle it.
He pokes his head out of the window, glancing to his left, and then to his right, and he's pretty sure his heart stops.
Newt's sat on the slanted roof, knees pulled close to his chest, arms crossed over his knees and chin resting on his crossed arms. He looks deep in thought, brow furrowed, and Thomas has seen that expression too many times to know that they aren't good thoughts.
Newt hasn't noticed his presence yet, so Thomas takes this chance to climb onto the roof. He hoists himself up through the window, and onto the slanted roof. Thomas doesn't dare look down; he's not the biggest fan of heights, especially not where there's a chance someone can actually fall. His foot slips underneath him slightly and he inhales sharply, composing himself and regaining his balance.
Newt glimpses to his left momentarily, finally noticing that Thomas is here, but quickly turns his attention back to the view in front of him (which, Thomas thinks, is nothing special; it's just streets and houses and a few trees - plus, it's nighttime so it's dark out - there's not much to look at). Thomas sits down, quite far from Newt but he's giving him space because the air is heavy and Thomas is actually terrified right now because why the hell is Newt on the roof?
"Hey," Thomas whispers, voice shaky even though he tries to hide it. Newt's gaze drops, but he doesn't reply so Thomas presses further. "You okay?"
No reply.
Thomas isn't surprised; he expected this. But, this time, he's going to make Newt talk, or at least he's going to get him off of this damn roof because Thomas is terrified that, right now, Newt is contemplating whether or not he wants to jump.
Thomas shuffles closer to Newt, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from his body. It's now that Thomas realises how cold it is, the chill of the night's air sending shivers up his spine. He wonders how long Newt has been out here; the boy's in a t-shirt, he must be freezing. Thomas can see that Newt's trembling, goosebumps formed on his pale arms.
Newt doesn't seem to be paying attention to Thomas's presence, continuing to stare out into the night's sky. There are tears glistening in his eyes, and the boy looks seconds away from a breakdown, but Thomas guesses he's holding it in because he's there, too. He wants so desperately to just pull Newt close and let him cry; he doesn't even have to talk, but he has to let all of these emotions out somehow.
But after they get off the roof. After Newt is safe.
"What are you thinking about?" Thomas asks, not really expecting an answer.
Newt sighs deeply, tightening his grip on his knees. "Everything."
Thomas stares for a few seconds. As always, Newt's answers are short, and don't explain much, but it's a good sign; at least he's saying something. "Do you have to think about everything up here?" he questions, and he means it to sound slightly amusing but the tremble in his voice gives away his nerves.
Newt stiffens, and Thomas sees his jaw clench. Thomas doesn't want to push him, but he has to. One wrong move, one wrong word and Newt could fall (or worse, jump). "You wouldn't understand," the blond mumbles.
Frowning, Thomas angles his body so he can look at Newt more easily, the possibility of falling not even a care anymore. "Then help me understand, Newt," he says, pleading.
Newt shoots him a glare. "Just leave me alone, Tommy." Thomas watches Newt stare at the ground for a minute, looking contemplative, and it does nothing to ease the nerves within him. "I don't want you here. Go away."
Normally, Thomas would oblige. He'd give Newt a little time to himself, time to cool off but he can't right now. He can't leave him alone. Can't risk it. "I can't, Newt," he says, eyes full of guilt. "You know I can't. I know what you'll try to do."
Newt moves away from Thomas, closer to the edge (it takes everything within Thomas not to just grab the boy right then and there). "You don't know anything!" Newt shouts, and Thomas can see that he's seconds away from letting the tears fall.
"Newt-"
"Stop!" Newt yells. "Stop pretending that you understand, that you care! I can't- Tommy, I can't handle this anymore." The tears fall, and Newt's crying, and Thomas's heart is breaking and he's close to crying as well. "Just go away. Let me do this on my own."
Thomas's eyes widen, and his mouth opens and closes for a few seconds, no sound coming out. "I- what? Newt, are you insane? I'm not- don't you shucking dare tell me that you expect me to let you jump!"
Newt wipes at his eyes, looking away from Thomas. "It's not your bloody choice," he whispers, voice broken and scared.
Thomas shuffles closer, carefully, so there's very little space between them. He could pull Newt tightly into his arms from here. "I can't lose you, Newt. Please, please don't do this." Thomas inhales deeply - shakily. "I won't let you do this. Newt, you don't deserve this, you deserve-"
"I can't deal with any of this any more!" Newt cries, and he's full on sobbing now. "Tommy, please let me go, let me-"
"Don't you dare say it," Thomas growls, angry, but Newt doesn't falter. "I will not let you die. I won't let you do this to yourself." Newt hesitates, and Thomas takes this opportunity to continue. "What about Minho, huh? Can you really do this to him? He won't be able to handle it, Newt, you know that."
Newt shakes his head. "He'll be better off without me."
"You can't honestly believe that," Thomas begs. How can Newt think that they'd be better of without him? They need him; Newt's the glue that keeps them together, the reason they're all still together.
"I do," Newt whimpers, and the break in his voice tells Thomas that there's no doubt in Newt's mind about this. He really believes it. "Both of you - you'll be better off without me."
Now it's Thomas's turn to whimper, and he wants to scream because Newt does not deserve to think like this. Like he's not good enough for them, like he shouldn't be here. "I need you. I need you to stay, Newt, please don't leave me." He leans forward, closer to Newt. "We can help you, we will help you, please-"
Thomas is crying now, too, and now he's wondering where the hell Minho is because he needs to get his ass back home right now and help him.
"You can't," Newt says, voice so calm despite the falling tears. "I'm sorry, Tommy."
Newt stands, and Thomas's heart literally stops, because this is happening, he can't let this happen, he has to stop this. Newt takes a step away from Thomas, and he loses his balance, and Thomas cries out no! before he - stupidly - grabs Newt's arm, trying to pull him back.
But it doesn't work; instead, they both fall.