I'm aliveeeeee. Sorry about the wait. Hopefully this chapter is worth it. Oh, and @myownpage250, happy late birthday. I lava you and your present will be done soon love x <3

Shouting emerged from the hallway, and Newt pulled himself away from Thomas just in time to turn around and see staff all run the same direction. Looking back at the taller boy, he could see him just as lost and confused. They shared a glance, enough to know that they were both curious to investigate on what was happening.

Thomas subconsciously reached for Newt's hand, linking them in a desperate grip to keep the blonde safe. He needed to know that Newt was there, which for now, he was. The blonde would've pulled away with anyone else, but he'd always been open to hold Thomas' hand from the very beginning. He was uncertain, not knowing if what he was doing was right or normal, but right now he'd let all that slip away. Newt didn't know how, but he had, and now it was only etched into his mind.

"What do you think they're running from?" Thomas asked him, looking down at Newt carefully, waiting for the blonde to look back. He never did as he was too fixated on the shut door.

"I-I think t-they're running to s-something." The blonde stepped forward, moving his free hand to the doorknob before opening it, letting Newt and Thomas step out into what could potentially be utter chaos and madness. It was quiet between them, something dense and unspoken hovering over them, intoxicating their lungs so that they were unable to speak. Because deep down, they already knew that something had happened. And it was something bad.

Newt could feel that Thomas was scared by the way his grip tightened around Newt's slim fingers. He felt the fear radiating off from the other and it did nothing to calm his own nerves, making his heart speed up as they made their way downstairs.

The library was surrounded by patients, all seeming confused over what was happening, and as Newt and Thomas took the last few steps towards the others, the feeling of something being really wrong collided with them and made them pause. They stopped walking, sharing another look after not having made eye contact in a while. Newt looked down first, frightened as he nibbled on his lower lip, his body heating up from nerves and sweat before he started to walk again.

Suddenly he stopped. Not by Thomas holding him back, but by a similar voice that belonged to another. A boy he was familiar with, fearful of. Stiles said one word, a name in a hushed whisper that was eerily calm.

Newt.

"Newt?" The blonde snapped his head towards Thomas, seeing the boy look concerned, but Newt only looked forward. He was looking at the entrance to the room he loved, filled with books. The room where he met Thomas. And the room where Stiles was now pulled out on a gurney. Newt's eyes widened, and he shook in a panic because he knew who that was. He didn't like the boy, but he knew him. And that was enough for him to want to run up to Stiles.

So he did. He pushed through everyone, despite his fear of crowds. It was all a blurry mess from his tears and he couldn't hear much of anything. He faintly remembered hearing Thomas scream his name, but it went away just as quickly. It went away as soon as Thomas had seen what Newt had spotted, and he stumbled back before he ran away.

He ran back up the stairs, up to his room and slammed it shut. It had been Stiles lying there. Thomas knew that it was. And now he'd left Newt down there alone as well. Newt was where Thomas should be, with his brother.

Thomas cried out, screamed in agony because he didn't know what had happened. He didn't know why Stiles was unconscious, and he felt more responsible than he should've. And now he'd panicked. He was panicking still, his breathing heavy and uneven, all sound blocked out as he held his hands to his ears. Tears fell unevenly down his face as he shook his head like an aggressive dog shaking its victim, and he couldn't think anymore. His mind was a complete blank, he didn't even realize he was having a panic attack anymore until he no longer found himself being able to breathe.

He gasped for air, knowing that if he didn't, he would die. And the fear of death didn't help his situation. No one was there to help him, but that only made it worse as he felt selfish for thinking that. Stiles needed him, and he wasn't there.

Newt had stayed. Well, he'd tried to anyway. But as soon as he'd turned around to scream out Thomas' name, he'd panicked. Not seeing Thomas, his safety, meant he was all alone. And then he realized where he was. There were people surrounding him, Stiles wasn't moving, and he was being pushed back by staff members. And it may've been fine, but Thomas having made a run for it, and with Newt's lifeline, his rope to hold onto, gone, he had nothing. He was utterly lost in a sea full of people, and Newt was drowning.

That's the last thing he remembered before he closed his eyes, before he stilled, and he fell to the ground with darkness looming over him, and the fear of not having the one he needed gripping at his heart, begging to stay.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Thomas held Newt's hand, looking down at the beautiful blonde that was stuck in a hospital gown now, exposing his arms for Thomas to see as he was not able to hide them now. Newt's breathing was slow and steady as he lay there, sleeping softly with his chest moving occasionally to show that he was alive. Thomas had rushed down to the hospital wing as soon as he'd gained some sense of what was happening. Originally he'd gone for Stiles with panic over where Newt's whereabouts were, but those were unknown. However, when he'd gotten into Stiles' room, he'd noticed another figure in a bed across from his unconscious brother. And lying there peacefully, was Newt.

As soon as Thomas saw Newt, he scrambled over, tripping over his uncoordinated legs that Stiles would've laughed at. But Stiles was sleeping just like Newt, and so he had nothing to say. Thomas was desperately holding onto the blonde, cursing at himself for leaving him behind like that. He should've never done that, he knew Newt well enough to know that the blonde relied on him.

"I'm so sorry, Newt." Thomas whispered, leaving a lingering and broken kiss on Newt's knuckles of the hand he was holding onto with his own.

"I shouldn't have left you." He confessed, looking ashamed at the fact that he had. His chest ached at seeing Newt, wanting to lean down and kiss him. Thomas wanted to mend himself with a kiss he was not allowed to give.

"Fucking hell. Newt, please wake up. I need you to tell me it's okay. Newt, tell me it's okay." Thomas begged, pleaded as best as he could as he began to cry. He knew that Newt would wake up, that nothing that bad had happened. Yet getting no response when he so miserably needed one, broke him and beat him down. It felt like something was throwing him down and constricting him from doing anything. He couldn't make up for leaving, and he just wanted to be told it was okay.

"It's okay." A voice from behind him said. Thomas turned, seeing Stiles lying there, awake and awfully normal. So the other kept his guard up, he wasn't sure how long Stiles would keep up this act, if it was one.

"How long have you had your eyes open?" Stiles shrugged, smiling a bit as he sat up. But the process of him straightening his back took an awfully long time, and he winced almost every time he repositioned himself.

"Long enough to hear you apologize to him." He gasped out after the raging pain tearing at his sensitive flesh had made itself noticed. It was all part of his plan, he knew what he was doing, but it was painful nonetheless.

"I didn't mean to leave him there. I panicked when I saw you unresponsive." His brother laughed, finding his worry more amusing than anything else. But then the laughter quieted down, and Stiles seemed quite vulnerable. The way he sat in that hospital bed, his eyes red, his skin pale and his personality stripped from him to reveal someone quite fragile. It was like seeing Stiles again before everything had gone wrong, before he'd ended up here after having lost his mind.

"Stiles, what the hell happened to you?" His brother smirked, chuckling before twisting his head slightly. Then he unwrapped his hospital gown, letting it fall to his hips, revealing a bandage around his ribcage, down to his stomach.

"B-bloody hell." Mumbled a small voice, and the twins turned their heads simultaneously to Newt, now awake but still laying down with dazed eyes and a frown. His one hand still held by Thomas', and the rest of his brittle body unmoving.

"Sleeping beauty is awake." Stiles uttered sarcastically, still smiling a lot more than he should've. Thomas growled, his protectiveness over Newt showing vividly.

"Shut up, Stiles. Now, what the hell did you do?" He snapped at his sibling, Stiles putting his hands up in mock defense before his smile grew even more bizarre and crazed.

"Oh, you know, I just cut a gash along my ribs and held a lighter against it to make it burn a little bit." Stiles began to laugh again, as if the dangers of his actions hadn't affected him at all. As if he hadn't realized quite what he'd done.

"Are you fucking mental?" Thomas screamed, Newt jumping slightly in his bed, the most movement he'd done ever since he ran towards Stiles a few hours before.

"Forget I asked that." He continued, looking between the two boys in their beds, one who was just laying there, awfully quiet, and the other that was smiling at the violence he'd inflicted on himself. Newt begun getting up though, groaning as it started to feel like his head was splitting open. Thomas instantly reacted, placing a hand on Newt's small back, making small circular motions with his thumb.

"What do you need, Newt?" Thomas was willing to run around if he had to for the blonde, and the blonde himself blushed as he glanced up at the other boy.

"Bathroom T-Tommy." He said, finally standing but steadying himself by holding onto Thomas' shirt with his fists.

"May I offer to carry you?" Thomas heard Stiles scoff from where he was, and the standing boy flipped his brother off before looking back to the smaller boy that now stood next to him.

"I'm too h-heavy for t-that." Uttered Newt, nevertheless beginning to snake his arms around Thomas' shoulders and around his neck. Thomas smiled at the boys gentle grip and his tenderness, the urge to at least kiss his cheek, growing with every second.

"Newt, I can assure you're not. Please?" He tried, seeing Newt let his guard down and deflate ever so slightly as he nodded. Thomas wrapped an arm around the blondes back before hooking the other beneath Newt's knees, lifting him from the ground and into Thomas' arms. Newt winced, a small squeak leaving his chapped lips, and the others' eyes widened.

"Oh god, did I hurt you?" He hastily asked, starting to make his way over to the bathroom that was accessible in the room as it was joint together with the shared space.

"J-just a c-cut on my back. It's o-okay, Tommy." Newt assured, reaching down to open the bathroom door for Thomas before he was let down again. And then he disappeared into the bathroom, a click echoing when he locked the door. Thomas began to make his way over to Stiles, who was clearly amused by what he'd just seen.

"You lo-" Stiles started, but Thomas quickly glared and lay his hand over his brothers mouth, silencing him.

"Yea, I know." He confessed, letting go of the other when he figured that Stiles wouldn't say anything else.

"What's stopping you?" Thomas sighed, sitting down exasperatedly in the chair beside Stiles' bed, and he held his hands to his lips as his eyes held sorrow and the fear of not knowing anything.

"Everything?" Newt walked out of the bathroom after that, not letting Thomas and Stiles continue their conversation on Thomas' hopeless feelings, much to Thomas' dismay. His brother probably wouldn't have been much help, but who else was he supposed to talk to?

The blonde slowly walked over, as if he didn't know if it was okay to come closer. Thomas nodded him over, and Stiles moved his feet as best as he could so that the blonde could sit by the foot of the bed. Newt hesitated, his body shaking a little as he let out a nervous breath, but he sat down anyway, his legs crossed as he hid his arms behind his back, not liking that they were exposed.

"They're locking me up." Stiles confessed quietly, but the other two heard it so clear that he may've as well shouted and screamed it out. Newt didn't know what his response should be, he'd never cared enough about Stiles to have a polite response. Yet he was shocked, and also concerned. Thomas, on the other hand, was upset. And that surprised him more than the declaration itself. The fact that he actually cared enough to wish that wasn't going to happen.

"Why?" Thomas wondered.

"Suicide watch. Stupid if you ask me but they're treating this like a suicide attempt. I faked the whole thing but they take it very seriously." Newt shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, the mention of suicide being familiar to him first hand. He noticed that Thomas was looking at him, and when he stole a glance into the others eyes, he knew that Thomas knew. He didn't dare to look anymore, his brown eyes fixated on his hands that were clasped together before him.

"Newt can tell you all about what that's like, if you're wondering." Thomas stood abruptly, leaning his body against the wall as his mind started blurring and he begun to feel lightheaded. He'd expected that Newt would know, he really had, but hearing it being said made him feel physically sick.

"Tommy?" Thomas turned to Newt, giving him the best smile he could muster before he gasped for air, biting down on his hand harshly to control himself.

"S-Stiles is r-right. I k-know what it's l-like down there. Being w-watched." Stiles beamed, thinking he was finally getting somewhere with his intentions. Then Thomas cut in though, looking pained like the boy confessing.

"Newt you don't ha-" Newt bolted out the door, tears suddenly overwhelming him as the reminder of his suicide attempts tore at him, ripping him apart and exposing him. He'd laughed just like Stiles had when he woke up again, and he'd never felt more like the boy that was lying in that bed. But Newt didn't want to be like Stiles, he couldn't be, and that's why he cried and screamed in the secluded hallway. The blonde bashed his head against the wall several times before he was pulled back by Thomas.

Thomas had run after him and was now trying to say something. The blonde couldn't hear it though. He could see Thomas' mouth move as he clawed at Thomas' skin, trying to push him back with the pathetically little strength he had. But it was nothing compared to the strength Thomas had, and so he caved.

"Newt? Newt say something to me, please." Nothing. The blonde couldn't hear, and before either of them could do something, a nurse had shown up to tear Newt away from Thomas, thinking Thomas was hurting him.

"Don't take him. Please don't take him from me. I just want to help him." Thomas cried, trying to get to Newt but being held back by another male nurse that had showed up. The scene unfolding reminded him eerily much of what had happened right before he and Newt were locked up, and he hoped this wouldn't end the same way.

"You've done enough." He heard someone say, but he didn't know who. Thomas saw Newt give in, collapsing from exhaustion of trying to get away from everything, and Thomas could only stare blankly as Newt was carried back into the room he'd come from. The room with Stiles still inside. As soon as that registered within Thomas' brain, he was back to moving, trying to get to the blonde, but he wasn't allowed. He hit the door harshly with his hand, but he was stopped.

"O'Brien you have to wait." A hand was placed to his chest by the nurse that had held him back earlier, and Thomas glared at the man but then shook his head in worry.

"No, I have to see him. I have to see Newt." He gasped, his breathing picking up speed once more, the irregular patterns being familiar and doing nothing to help.

"You can see him in a little while. Just breathe." Thomas coughed, inhaling sharply before he shook his head again and tried to move.

"But he needs me." He stammered, fear coming back to him because he wasn't able to see Newt. He couldn't do anything to make sure that the blonde was okay.

"I n-need him." He broke down once more, coughing as he tried to gain the breaths he'd lost, back. He was so desperate, caring for Newt more than anything. His heart broke when he knew that he couldn't be there, they wouldn't let him for now. And just like Newt, he gave in and started being taken elsewhere.

It took a while for him to register that he was in front of his therapists office. He didn't have a scheduled meeting with her today, but he guessed that after refusing to leave Newt's side but having no choice, they'd decided to bring him here.

The door opened, and he was let inside by Mrs Miller before taking a seat. He didn't protest, knowing that he wouldn't be allowed to see Newt anyway. He'd do that later, but for now, he stayed sat neatly with his legs crossed and arms folded. The woman sat across from him, clearing her throat as she looked through Thomas' file.

"How are you doing Thomas?" She asked, Thomas rolling his eyes as he held a glare.

"You took me from Newt." He spat, teeth clenched together tightly before he looked down. Thomas wanted to go back, to turn around and leave that instant. He wasn't comfortable sitting where he was, he never had been, but now it was worse than ever.

"I understand that you've grown to care for that boy very much. But I can assure you he's safe." Mrs Miller tried, her assurance going right past Thomas because he still worried just the same.

"Is he?" Thomas challenged.

"Yes, but that is not what I'm here to talk to you about right now." She continued, and that's when Thomas grew attentive. He didn't know why he'd been sent here so last minute, he assumed it was because of Newt, but apparently not.

"So, what is it?" He snapped, wanting to leave as he anxiously bit down on his knuckles.

"I've been taking a look at the progress you have made, and me, your group therapist and your doctor all think you no longer need to stay here. You are to be released by the end of the week." And that was it. Thomas' heart sunk to the floor as he heard the declaration. He could go home, but his thoughts instantly went back to the boy he'd have to be without.

"What? No, I c-can't." He pleaded, feeling how his heart was ramming against his chest as the thought of being without Newt sunk in. Of having to wake up and knowing that the blonde was stuck somewhere unsafe, and Thomas couldn't even help him anymore.

"You'll still be on some of your medication that will be prescribed to you at home, but we do not feel your case is severe enough for you to stay here." She continued, but Thomas wasn't having it. He refused to accept that he was going to leave.

"But I can't leave N-Newt." Thomas said, his voice cracking as he said the others name. He needed Newt. He may've only been sixteen turning seventeen, and maybe he was naive to think they could last forever, but he needed the blonde.

"You may visit him." He clenched his fists, and his body started to burn. But not from heat, but from his slowly losing temper that was being overtaken by anger.

"No. Okay no. I'm not leaving him!" Thomas shouted, and that was his trigger. He was the bullet that had been shot, and that made him lethal.

"Thomas, you do not need to stay here. You've proven to be perfectly capable of controlling your actions and handling yourself around people and in the real world. Your dad agreed with us and is signing the papers to release you." Mrs Miller was awfully calm for the fact that Thomas had stood and hovered over her. She'd dealt with patients far worse, and she knew of Thomas' issues with anger well enough to know that she'd made him snap.

What she hadn't expected fully, was for Thomas to start tearing apart her office. He grabbed stacks of papers from her desk, throwing them to the floor that left a mess that would be impossible to clean up well. And then he moved to the bookshelf and threw most of the books down with such force that they flew across the room.

Normally she would've not let it slide so easily. But Thomas was young, and she knew that he cared for Newt so much that he couldn't bare to leave. She understood.

"I'll make you a deal, Thomas." Mrs Miller began, waiting for Thomas to show a sign that he was listening. He screamed at one point, hurling another book at the wall before he seemed to stop for just a second.

"I don't want a deal unless it means I stay." He snarled, kicking the plant in the corner despite it hurting his foot as the vase was thick porcelain.

"I can't do that." She said.

"Then I'm not interest-" Thomas tried to say, but he was cut off as he made his way to the bookshelf again to throw another book.

"I can let you stay with Newt in the hospital room tonight. No one would bring you back to your room. You get to stay with him if you stop tearing apart my office." And suddenly Thomas was very interested, a book in his hand that he was about to throw, carefully slipped out of his grasp, and his mouth was agape.

He'd still do everything possible to stay with the blonde, to keep him in his arms just a little longer, but for now he calmed. Thomas may've been furious, a lethal weapon when he was mad and hurt, but the thought of Newt brought him right out of it.

He knew that Newt would keep him from losing his mind, and he'd do anything to prove that.