Newt winced as Thomas grabbed him by the sleeve, yanking him into the corner of the dining hall.

It was always the same room they dined in at the facility, three times a day. White walls, stone ceilings, basic steel tables nailed to the floor, six of them in two rows of three, long wooden benches on either side for them to eat at. He'd heard rumours that there were other rooms like this, identical ones for the other children to eat in. There were hundreds of kids that had been snatched ('rescued', as WICKED claimed), but Newt knew the truth.

What he didn't know was why they had all been separated into groups of 70. That's how many people dined in the mess hall, as the canteen had been dubbed. He had counted them all miserably in his first few days of arriving. But they were down by 10 now, four more children having disappeared in the middle of the night without a trace. No one knew what had happened to them.

Newt had a pretty good idea.

"What the hell did you do?" Thomas ground out, voice low to avoid attracting the attention of the guards that lined the walls. Personally, Newt thought that the guns were unnecessary, but each soldier carried them. Masked, stoic, and armed. For their 'protection.'

Doubtful.

Thomas shook Newt's arm again, leaning closer to his face. "I'm serious, Newt, what the hell did you do?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Thomas huffed out an angry breath before glancing quickly around the room. "I heard Crawford reporting something about classified information being stolen-"

"Of course you know that," Newt rolled his eyes, "what with you being WICKED's little saint and all."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that ten of our friends have been taken away and are actively being tortured, and you're on their side." Newt hissed. Thomas reeled back as if he'd been slapped.

"Newt, you know damn well if there was anything I could do-"

"There is now." Newt leant forward, grasping at Thomas' hand when it was clenched on his shoulder, eyes alight with feverish excitement. "The Right Arm, I've heard rumours that they're in the mountains and that-"

"Are you insane?" Thomas hissed. "The Right Arm betrayed us, they went against everything we stand for-"

"You stand for." Newt interrupted, face drawn tight with anger. "WICKED stand for. I don't. I want out of this mess, and I want to stop anymore of our friends from being slaughtered like animals for the sake of science."

Thomas leaned back, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. Newt bristled. "Listen, Newt, the rest of the world-"

"What world, Tommy? Huh? What world? You've seen out there, do you really think that's fixable?"

"We have to try-"

"I'm done trying." Newt dropped Thomas' hand, face flushing with anger. "I'm doing this. I don't have a choice." Thomas pursed his lips, disapproval written over every inch of his face. Desperate, Newt reached forward again, both hands resting on Thomas's shoulders. "Look, I'm not an idiot. I know I need your help if I'm going to pull this off. I know you don't really approve of what WICKED are doing, I know this is killing you as much as it's killing me. So help me, Tommy. Help me." Upon seeing Thomas's blank expression, Newt leant forward again, until they were practically nose to nose. "Please Tommy, please."

There was a beat of silence, before Thomas closed his eyes. Reaching up, he grabbed Newt's hands and slowly lowered them from his shoulders. "I can't."

Newt's face shuttered, hands spasming in Thomas's grip before he pulled away slowly, any ounce of emotion and compassion dimming from his eyes. "Then stay the hell out of my way."

"Newt-"

Newt shouldered past him, heading towards the doors, any appetite he had completely lost.

"Newt, they'll find out it was you."

"So what?" He countered, eyes flashing. "Let them. By then it'll be too late. WICKED will finally get what's coming to them."

Thomas' arm reached out as if he were going to stop him, but it faltered in mid-air and dropped heavily to his side again. "Newt... Damnit, Newt, this isn't going to bring her back! It isn't going to save her-"

Newt turned on his heel and jabbed a finger into Thomas' chest, anger blazing in his eyes. The guards at the main doors started towards them, but Thomas held up a hand to halt them, desperate eyes clashing with Newt's. "Don't you dare mention her. Not when it was you who helped put her up there in the first place."

"Newt, I didn't know, you know I didn't-"

"I'm going to stop them, and I'm going to get her out of there. And damnit to hell, Tommy, I will die trying if I have to."

"Please don't be stupid, Newt, it's too late to-"

"Listen, Tommy, I need to do this. You know that, I know that, so you can cut the crap and you either help me, or you get the hell out of my way."

With that, Newt turned on his heel and stormed from the canteen, so blinded by his anger that he didn't see the pair of bright blue eyes following him out, having heard every word of his conversation.