But there's blood on my hands
Yeah, there's blood
_______________

Newt

This is a mess.

A big, bloody mess.

The cream walls were splattered with blood, as the beige carpet was blood stained beyond repair.

The world spun faster and faster before my eyes.
My heart rose to my throat, as a pounding pain hit my head repeatedly.

Everything shook.
Colours merged to one.

Red.

Everything is red.

It feels as if someone is gripping my throat, like they don't want to me utter another word.

I can't breathe.
I can't see clear.

I can't do this anymore.

I don't want to be here.
I want to go back to the crazy house.
Anywhere but here.

I slowly gather my senses once again, just as Minho collapses against the wall, his back hitting it with a slam.
He sinks to the floor, his eyes wide with fear, wrapping his arms around himself.

I'm about to help him when a set of fingers pull at my arm, using me to pull themselves up.

"Newt. Why didn't you stop her!" Thomas wipes the blood from his face onto his hand.

By the time I could push Thomas away from his mother, it was too late.
She was dead.

"She didn't kill her, Thomas!" I snap, reaching the end of my patience.

"She did, Newt! I saw it!"

I shake my head, smacking my lips together.
I draw in a deep breathe, and prepare myself.

"She's dead, Tommy." I state, looking him in the eyes.

"But she was right there! She ran out before I could get her!"

"You're seeing things. She's dead, Thomas."

"She's not dead if she just killed my mom!" Thomas cries, tears seeping from his eyes, his voice shaking with fear.

"She didn't kill your mom!" I yell, raising my voice for the first time.

Thomas pauses in shock for a moment, before taking a few steps to be by his mother's side.
He sits on the bottom step of the stairs, next to her body, yet stares straight ahead at the wall.

"Then who did Newt?" He says sternly, seeming much more calm than just a few seconds ago.

You.

I couldn't tell him.
I couldn't tell him he killed his own mother.
I couldn't tell him he killed his neighbour Chuck.
I couldn't tell him he almost killed me.

"Newt?" Thomas asks, tilting his head towards me.

Another strike of pain hits my head, distracting me.

"Newt!" Thomas screams, making me jump back to reality.

"We need to leave." I change the subject, clumsily.

"What about the body?" Minho finally pipes up, his face pale.

"We have to leave it here." I say sincerely, not looking Thomas in the eyes.

"What!" Thomas snaps, in reply.

"We need to leave, get whatever you need, and then we go." I say before pulling Minho to his feet and walking back into the kitchen.

I hear the sound of Thomas ' feet stomping up the stairs towards his room.

"Newt." Minho mumbles
"What are we going to do?" .

I rub the back of my neck, my head ache getting worse.

"Newt!" Minho hisses "You saw it right! He's a dangerous homocidal maniac! He could kill us!" Minho emphasises.

"What are we gonna do? Do we leave him? I mean-"

"No." I cut Minho off.

"We don't leave him. He'll get better." I bite my lip, hoping that my lie becomes true.

"If you say so." Minho turns on his heels, "Ill be waiting outside." He mumbles.

I rub my forehead, trying to dampen the growing headache I have.

I shouldn't of left.
What was I thinking?

If we get caught, they'll send Minho & I back to the Glade.
And, Thomas...

My Tommy will be sent away. To a criminally insane institute.

He can't be sent there.

I'd never see him again.

The dark well of thoughts drown my mind, only being pulled out when I hear Thomas clambering down the stairs.

"Newt, you alright?" He asks, looking genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, sorry. Let's go. Minho's waiting." I stutter, locking my eyes to the floor yet I can feel Thomas' eyes burning into my back as we walk out the door.

We gather our senses outside, the black sky only revealing silhouettes of my fellow fugitives.

"We don't have any transport." Minho shivers, his breathe visible.

"The town centre is only a bit away, we could get a car from there." Thomas points in the direction.

I nod to Thomas' idea, and we continue our journey.
Only increasing our pace to a run when we hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

An hour or so later, I'm driving a red pick up Thomas hot wired in a back alley car park.

Minho's sat frigid in the backseat, it's scary to see him like this, his eyes set dead ahead.

Thomas' sat beside me, his head pressed against the window. He's deep in sleep yet it makes my heart flinch whenever he calls out for his mom in his slumber.

We drive for a couple hours, until we reach a town with several motels.
After booking a room, I lie next to Thomas, since Minho took the couch.

"Newt." He mumbles, turning over to face me.

"What?" I say sharply, my eyes focused on the ceiling.

"You should sleep, please." Thomas softens his tone, laying an arm over my chest.

"I'll sleep when I'm tired. I'm not tired." I whine almost childishly.

Thomas sighs, closing his eyes once again.

"Newt." He says sleepily.

"Yes, Tommy?" I roll my eyes.

"Who killed my mom?"

-a/n-

super sorry i haven't updated in ages !!!
i promise I'll try and update more !! sorry ive been super stressed/busy about my school work recently and its kinda been hard to find time to write.
hope you liked this chapter!!