Later that night, after Newt had written in his journal and long after the sun went down, Newt lay curled up in the same corner he'd slept the night before, but this time without Evelyn.  All was dark and all was quiet. Mostly quiet. Crickets chirped outside and Keisha was back to her soothing ocean-sound snore. Dante's snore was also soft; Newt could almost believe a little puppy slept on the other side of the room. Weariness and sorrow pulled at him like a sinking tide. 

He had no idea what Evelyn was up to, where she was and if she was okay. Tears leaked past his clamped eyelids. He had been a slinthead. He couldn't believe he had left her. Again. He had her back, he had promised  to be beside her the whole time, he promised to hold her hand into the next life, he promised to end it before she went past the Gone, and yet, he got cold feet and left. He had too much...crazy? Too much chaos? Too much Crank? And he left, like the coward he was. More tears leaked out and slid down his temples into his long shaggy hair. 

"I'm sorry Evey. I'm so sorry!" He whispered into the darkness. 

Would she even want to see him after leaving her behind? Maybe this plan of enlisting this Jonsey and his Boss into helping. He had no idea if this was going to work. He spat this idea out, half formed and with no real idea of HOW to actually execute this wild plan.  First step was find Jonsey and Evelyn. Second step was to throw himself down in front of Evelyn and beg forgiveness. Then go from there. His stomach twisted in fear and anxiety of what he had to do.

What had he gotten himself into? He didn't regret what he'd done, what he'd promised Keisha. In fact, he cringed at the thought of not having done it. His mind kept going down rabbit holes of alternate endings to the day's events. Chickening out. Keisha saying no. Not getting to Keisha in time, before she attempted bribing her way past the guards. Of course, the day could've gone a hundred disastrous ways- Crank Palace, apocalypse, all that. But they were alive, and he had a goal. He felt good.

But that didn't mean he wasn't bloody nervous. Nervous as hell. But a good nervous. He hoped. He needed Evelyn back. He felt like half of him was missing. His better half. He rolled onto his side, holding her notebook tight to his chest, it was the closest thing to holding her he could. He wished with all his hurting heart he had her in his arms; his heart, his Love, his family. He looked over at Keisha who had Dante wrapped in her arms. Family. How he wished him and Evelyn could have a family-

A sharp pain stabbed Newt right behind the eyes. He heaved himself off his back, rocked forward, curled into a ball, grabbed the sides of his head with both hands. The pain didn't stop, kept slicing back and forth inside his skull, as if someone were trying to saw his brain in half. He muffled the cries that wanted to leap from his chest; on some misty level of awareness he didn't want to wake Keisha, didn't want to alarm her. He squeezed his head, rubbed at his temples, prayed to all known gods that it would go away.

The pain lasted a minute at most. But then it faded, quickly descending into a dull ache, and then going away completely. He sat up, pushed his back into the corner, tried to catch his breath without being too loud. Holy hell, that had hurt. He understood why Evelyn would randomly grab her head and cry in pain. The relief from its absence was about as blissful a feeling as he'd ever had. He blew out a heavy huff and closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall. It had something to do with his memories, the Swipe. The virus had attacked it, maybe.

The episode had been triggered by those thoughts of Keisha and her kids. A mom, a son, a daughter. A mom, a brother, a sister...his sister Sonya. Newt didn't understand the why's or how's or what's. This is what he knew—he'd been stabbed with pain, and then the pain had vanished. And now...

Mom. Dad. Sister.

Newt remembered a little more. Play with his Sonya in the yard. Chasing her at the park, tickling her until she giggled wildly. 

Just enough memories to make him sad. Just enough to confirm that he needed something to keep him occupied or he would sink forever into the darkness. Sink and never see the light again. He had to keep occupied. Even if Evelyn didn't want to, he knew he needed something. Had to keep busy and leave a last tiny mark on the world. 

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Newt stood just on the outside of the gate. His backpack strapped to his back, with his journel the launcher and Evelyn's things tucked in his bag as well. As much as he trusted Keisha,...he didn't trust her no to take their things again. So he had packed up his things and with the promise of coming back with the plan in place, he left Keisha and Dante in the little shack. 

His stomach was twisting and turning as he stood outside the gate archway. The wild noises of the Central Zone crashed into him like violent waves of the ocean-

His brain felt like it was splitting open again. He clamped his hands around his head. The pain was so intense he crumpled to his knees. Waves of the ocean.

Hey! Come here! Look! Look at this sea shell! "Owwww!" a small voice squealed, "It's so pretty!"  The sound of waves crashed behind him, warm water lapped at his bare feet buried in white sand.

Newt growled, and thrashed his head a few times. He blinked a few times a the pain subsided, with tears in his eyes he got up, before he could chicken out again, he stepped through the arche way. He needed to find this Jonsey and Evelyn. 

"My Good British Lad! Welcome back to the Central Zone!" 

Newt stopped dead in his tracks, and looked around at the voice he recognized from yesterday. The Mad Hatter guy was standing beside him. He swept his huge ridiculous hat off his head and bowed low. 

"Of course its you." Newt muttered. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." Newt sighed. 

Hatter frowned at Newt, then tapped his chin while he jammed his hat back on his wild curly orange hair. "Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?" He said brightly. 

It was Newt's turn to look at him confused. His already sore head felt like mush when he talked to this crazy Crank. Newt was almost positive there was more wrong with this guy, but looking around the Central Zone, it might just be the Flare. 

"What?"

"Nothing." Mad Hatter said with a shrug. 

Newt opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly confused now. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pounding in his head and damped his irritation. 

"I'm looking for someone." Newt said, running a hand down his face. 

"Well young British Chap, there is lots of someones around." He swept his arm wide towards the chaos in front of them. 

"A very specific person." 

"Well, why didn't you say so?" His wild eyes lit up. He turned and took a few steps, "Are you not coming?"

"You don't even know who I'm bloody looking for!" 

He froze, a foot in the air, a look of complete shock on his face and he was back in front of Newt, almost toe to toe now. "Too true. Too true." 

Newt took a step back. 

"Who?" Hatter asked. 

"Who, what?" 

"Who are we looking for?"

"Uhh, the girl I was with yesterday. Her name is Evelyn. Or... a guy with long greasy hair...I think he went by the name Jonsey?" Newt asked, hope flooding his veins when he saw Hatter's face light up again, and smile mischievously. 

"I know the very person." 

"You do? Where? Which way?" Newt cried excitement building up in his chest. 

Hatter, grabbed his chin, and pulled his wild orange eyebrows together and made a very over exaggerated thinking face. He snapped his fingers, and pointed straight ahead.

"Oh. He went, um. This way. He went this way. Follow me." He took off skipping into the chaos.

"Thank you so much!" 

"No problem." He called over his shoulder, a huge smile on his face. He was fast. It was easy for him to wear and wind, he was small, Newt's limp was acting up again. It had been getting more noticeable. 

"Hey. Wait!" Newt cried, trying to keep up. 

He saw the Hatter glance over his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. He wove a little more, and glanced over his shoulder again, the fear and panic on Hatter's face made Newt frown, what was he worried about. Newt looked over his shoulder, there was no one following them. He turned back around and slammed into Hatter. He had stopped abruptly, he poked Newt in the chest.

"Will you quit it?" He yelled.

What?!" Newt asked utterly bewildered now. 

 "I'm trying to walk here. What, The Palace big enough for someone like that? You got a problem, buddy? Huh? Huh? Do ya? Do ya? You want a piece of me? Yeah, yeah, ooh, I'm scared now. What?" Hatter poked Newt continuously in the chest, making him take a few stumbling steps backwards. 

"Wait a bloody minute-"

"Stop following me, okay?!" Hatter hissed.

"What are you talking about?! You're showing me which buggen' way Evelyn or Jonsey went!"

"Jonsey? Hey, I've seen Jonsey. He passed by not too long ago. He went this way, it went this way." Hatter turned back around and waved Newt to follow, "Follow me, British Chap!" He started to skip through the crowd again.

Confused and feeling very impatient now with this guy Newt chassed after him, and grabbed his arm, "Wait a minute! Wait a bloody minute!" He cried, turning the crazy man around, "What is going on?! You already told me which way Jonsey was going!?" Newt could feel his blood pressure rising.

"I did? Oh, no..." Hatters face fell into such despair Newt almost felt sorry for him. Newt almost felt like wrapping his arms around the poor silly fellow and patting his back. But then his moment of pity was gone replaced by anger, his body started to shack, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.

"If this is some kind of bloody joke, it's not funny! And I know funny! "

"No, it's not. I know it's not. I'm so sorry. See, I suffer from short-term memory loss." Hatter wailed, throwing a hand over his face. 

"Short-term memory loss? I don't bloody believe this." Newt grumbled. 

"No, it's true. I forget things almost instantly. It runs in my family. Or at least I think it does." He had a far off look in his sad crazy eyes. "Hmm. Where are they?" After a moment he looked back at Newt who was standing in disbelief at the man. Hatter cocked his head to the side, "Can I help you?"

Rage like Newt had never experienced before flashed through him, he saw red for a moment. He growled, and narrowed his eyes. "Something's wrong with you. Really. You-you're wasting my buggen' time. I have to find Jonsey."

"Some say my name?" 

Newt spun around. Standing behind him was Jonsey in all his stringy greasy haired, pipe wheedling muscled glory. Newt's red anger washed away instantly. He wanted to jump and do a happy dance. Instead he let out a wild gleeful cackle. 

"Yes! I've been trying to find you!" He glanced around, and then frowned. "Where's Eve?" 
Newt's eustacy dissolved and panic took over. His body was exhausted with all these wild swinging emotions. Where was Evelyn? Why wasn't she with him, he led her away. 

"She's with The Boss." He shrugged. 

"Take me there." He demanded. "Now." 

"As you wish." Jonsey turned, "Hatter...back to your post." 

Mad Hatter stood straight up and saluted Jonesy, and skipped back towards the archway. Newt shook his head, this place would drive him crazy if the Flare didn't. He turned back to Jonsey and nodded. 

"After you." 

_____________________________________

Evelyn had stayed up late into the night, sitting on Gooses desk catching  him up on what happened after she was shot and he had to go back to Saints & Sinners. Half way through her story someone knocked on the door and brought in food, drinks in brown bottles and clothes for Evelyn. Where they found it, she had no idea, but if she could get ride of anything and everything that was owned by WICKED she would.  As soon as the door snapped shut, she ripped the t shirt off with a growl of disgust, and threw it into the corner of the room. She grabbed the new shirt and pulled it on. She didn't care what it was or who wore it last, but it was clean, surprisingly. 

It was a short cropped top, more like a long sports bra. It was soft and comfortable, it fit her tiny frame and most importantly it wasn't WICKED's. Next she kicked her boots off and pulled the pants that were way to big and tossed them into the corner as well, and pulled on the pants. She took a deep breath, a breath of relief. She had ride herself of everything from WICKED. Well, except her Trauma, anxiety, nightmares, and the Flare...but those couldn't be helped now. 

Turning back to the desk, she saw Goose watching her with a dark greed in his eyes. she popped a hip and crossed her arms. 

"What?" 

"Kitten...you are not the shy little thing." His voice growled. 

"No. I've had to survive. And." She said picking up her hatchet again, sauntered closer to him, slowly leaned down, placing a hand on his chest she leaned even closer, so their faces were only inches apart, and whispered threateningly,  "I've killed many...MANY people. Keep it in your shucken pants Goose!" 

He growled again and smirked. Evelyn straightened up with a smirked, her green eyes held some wild lunacy in them. She backed up and sat back down on the desk. Goose chuckled at her, he propped his boots up on the desk beside her and twisted the cap off a bottle, and held it out for her.

"Though...I'm sure I'm better then Little Miss Muffit."Evelyn smirked.

"Probably." Goose nodded. He took a sip from his own bottle, and wrapped one of his huge hands around her calf and brought her foot into his lap, gently massaging her muscle.

"Okay, keep going, the story was getting good. You almost died, saw the guys who were supposed to have died but were actually still alive!"

"Yeah...Alby and Gally..." 

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