156. It's a Buggin' Girl- Part 2

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“Hey, Newt!” Gally called after the two of you as he led you away, “Her hands.” 

“Bloody hell, Gally,” Newt just rolled his eyes and pressed a hand to your back, “I know she beat the shit out of you. But piss off, will ya?”

You had no idea what the two of them were talking about. Your hands didn’t have any tattoos, did they? No, no they didn’t, you looked down quickly just to make sure. 

“Actually,” Alby cut in, “Gally has a point.” 

Newt turned, shocked at the statement, “Are you serious, Alby?? You don’t know-” 

“You’re right, we don’t know.” Alby cut him off, and it was the first time you’d heard him speak harshly. The way his voice switched to such a ruthless tone quite honestly terrified you. If he was the leader of this dangerous new place, you didn’t like your chances. 

At his sudden outburst, Newt fell silent. The pecking order was clear, and Alby as on top. He gave Newt one last glare before continuing, “We don’t know anything. She could be WCKD, or she could just be some kid as scared as we all were our first days.” He waved his arms at the rest of the group, “But we don’t know, and until we do we have to be careful.” 

What was he talking about? The panic-stricken thoughts running through your head had only gotten worse as you learned more about the situation, or tried to at least. You couldn’t remember anything at all about yourself: who were you? Where had you come from? What the hell were they saying about a tattoo on your jaw? Or, most importantly, why was this happening to you? 

In all the chaos you hadn’t even noticed Gally chuck a fraying rope in Newt’s direction, “We’re playing it safe.” 

He turned to you, those kind eyes of his refusing to meet yours as he reached for your wrists, “Your hands, please, love.” 

He actually looked guilty. 

Don’t touch me.” You jerked your arm away, or at least tried to. His grip was like iron, the muscles in his hands not even straining to keep yours in place as he tied them together. 

“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?!” You demanded, “Let me go right now, or I swear I’ll-” 

“You’ll what?” Newt’s gaze shot up to yours, “What exactly will you do?” 

There was a sudden fire in his eyes, and you knew better than to push him any further. So you let your mouth fall shut, and him continue, “Trust me, love, don’t make this any harder on yourself than it has to be.” 

Don’t call me love.” You bit back as he started leading you away once again- so much for keeping your mouth shut. 

“Oh yeah? Then what would you have me call you?” Newt challenged, once the two of you were away from the crowd, “What’s your name?” 

“I…..” Your voice trailed off and your heart started to beat, “I don’t know.” 

God, you hated how weak you sounded. 

Well, don’t worry about that, love. Your name’ll come back to you in a few days, a week at most.” 

“Alright, get in.” He stopped and gestured to what looked like a cage built into the ground. 

At the sight, your stomach rolled with nausea. 

No, you weren’t going in another cage in a million years. In that box you’d felt trapped, you couldn’t breathe, you would never let yourself feel like that again. 

“No, no wait.” You backed up a step, but he was just behind you, “Please, don’t run again, Greenie.” 

“I-I’m not going down there.” Thick beads of sweat started falling down your face, and you felt yourself starting to panic at the idea of being locked up again. 

“I-I, I can’t, I can’t, I-” You cut yourself off, wiping a tied-up hand across your brow. 

“You can, and you will.” Newt looked pained, his jaw clenched tightly as he willed himself to be emotionless, “So, go.” 




Thomas Sangster/ Newt Imagines& GIFsWhere stories live. Discover now