dmfjmfmmsm ok we were doing about the holocaust in history (i nearly started crying whilst watching one of the videos) and long story short it made me 1) sad, 2) daydream and 3) sad

then like the ghettos and stuff (fucking hitler ihy if you werent already dead i'd kill u) 

so like newtmas au where newt + the gladers are in a ghetto, not necessarily a holocaust au, and teresa + thomas are like posh bitches who have money money money

anyway this is for tmr bingo aGAIN, the prompt this time was 'a different decade'

"What's it like being rich?"

Chuck's voice was quiet and hesitant. He was too young. Much too young.

When Thomas was twelve, his biggest worry was making sure he didn't do anything that would damage his status. He had everything at his fingertips and he never had to worry about starvation or being shot or money issues. He was given what he needed, he lived in a big house and he had no idea what went on in the outer world. His father made sure of that.

He looked at the ground with a shrug. They were huddled around a small campfire, trying to get as much heat from it as possible. Thomas felt bad. He was in a proper Winter coat, and his friends were freezing. 

His friends. 

The word felt nice. He had never had friends other than Teresa.

"It feels normal to me." His eyes widened once he realised how that sounded. "I mean like, I've never had to deal with much hardship. Money was always something I took for granted. Father never explained how things in the outer world worked, and, sure, I got a few glimpses at poor people on the streets occasionally, but Teresa and I were sheltered."

The only sound was the flickering of the flames as they ate up the air before anyone spoke.

Chuck looked up. "It must be nice not having to worry." He looked so vulnerable. So, so vulnerable.

Newt scoffed. "You're making Tommy feel bad, mate."

It's true. He definitely was. Thomas felt so guilty and he wanted to give away everything to these people.

"He should feel bad." Gally spoke up, arms crossed as he leant against a wall. "He gets given everything and we see people starving on the streets. Hell, we're starving. We're all gonna fucking die from starvation if we don't get shot first."

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but Teresa pipped him to the post. "We have to worry about getting shot too, you know. We're giving you stuff, and that's illegal."

"Teresa-"

"No, Tom. It's true." She huffed, looking at the ground. "Everything isn't exactly dandy for us two."

"Yes, but we aren't petrified of walking on the streets or starving, are we?" 

"No, no we aren't." Teresa stood up and walked away in a bit of a huff. Her opinions were usually very.. strong, and it was an admirable quality, but not when she was being plain unreasonable.

Thomas let out a sigh, looking over at the group. "Sorry. She's... I don't know."

"A bitch?" Minho supplied, brow quirked.

"No." He was quick to back her up. He might get annoyed by her at times, but he'd never hate her in that sense. "Just.. unreasonable." He shrugged. 

Nobody replied once more, and Thomas was starting to think people were dropping off. He looked at Chuck, who was still awake, picking at crumbs on his knee and eating them. Minho was just merely looking at his nails, picking out any dirt. Alby had his eyes closed, although Thomas didn't think he was still asleep.

And Newt.

Newt had always seemed.. different in a sense. A good different. He felt like home and him and Thomas were good friends. Thomas didn't necessarily prefer him, he just got some small thoughts occasionally, like, 'I wonder if Newt would like my coat to wear.'.

His thought about his coat snapped him out of his small daze and he dug into his pockets. "I snuck away some snacks and water. It isn't much. I'm sorry. I'll try to bring more, I just-"

"Tommy," Newt placed a hand on his knee, a smile toying on his lips. The action felt comforting and nice. "You're doing more than enough just being here. Like Teresa said, you'll get shot if anyone finds out you're even sneaking away."

Thomas shook his head. "No. I'm not." He placed a packet of biscuits and a water bottle down. Chuck was the first to jump up, and it was still quite a slow action. The cold and lack of food wasn't doing anything to help their movement.

Thomas thought for a second, before standing up and shaking off his coat. He covered it over Chuck, who looked up, eyes wide and watery. "Won't you get cold?"

"I'm fine, Chuckie." He forced a small smile, even if he felt like crying for the boy's sake inside. "I'll drink alcohol or something and that'll warm me up."

The friends shared a quick smile at the pair. As much as they disliked the richer people of higher social status, Thomas was an exception. Ever since he and Teresa had visited the Ghetto with Janson, he had wanted to try and help.

Minho took a biscuit soon afterwards, taking a small bite and raising his arms comically to try and imitate an angel of kinds. "Heavenly! Good gracious, these are delightful. Melt in the mouth, high standard. Absolutely magnificent."

Newt snickered, also taking a biscuit. "Why do you always change to a British accent when acting posh?" He shook his head, taking a bite. "But seriously, these are good."

Thomas grinned at the bickering. "I made them myself, I'll have you know. My mother's recipe. She used to make them all the time before she passed."

Alby opened his eyes and spoke, to Thomas' shock. "Tell us about your mother."

"What?"

The darker-skinned rolled his eyes. "Anything. What she was like, I don't care. I want a story or somethin'."

"Oh. Uh, alright." He let out a breathy laugh and watched the cold smokey stuff the action made. He hadn't the slightest clue where to start. "Uh... Lady Mary Greene. She was a nice woman. She had the best recipes! Not just the biscuits - cakes and savoury stuff too. She was so smart. Amazingly clever. She was the best mother as well. She kissed me goodnight every single night, until one day she just... stopped." He frowned, but looked up with a soft smile. Newt thought it looked quite handsome. "I won't be depressing. Anyway, a story? Hm. One time when I was younger, like, much younger, I tried to bake something with her, but then I dropped the flour all over her. I swear, I couldn't stop laughing for 3 days straight."

Newt cooed. "Young Thomas Greene. How cute." He laughed a hearty laugh that made Thomas want to laugh too. 

So he did. For no reason at all really, because cooing over yourself as a child isn't exactly comedy. The rest of the group looked at them like they were absolutely insane.

Once the pair calmed down, Newt looked up, still grinning manically. "Seriously though, I'm sorry she's dead."

Thomas hummed. He missed his mother - there's no denying it. He just hoped she was in a better place, looking down at him with pride.

Alby scoffed. "You're so awkward with each other sometimes." He shook his head, amused by their behaviour.

Newt and Thomas looked at each other with a frown and furrowed brows. What was Alby on about? 

Minho smirked. "Yeah. I get what you mean."

Newt clearly seemed to get what they were hinting at, because he instantly shook his head with a laugh that held no humour. "You're joking. Do you know who he is?"

"He wouldn't rat you in even if we said what we were thinking, Newt."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed accusingly. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"No!" Newt blurted out, face going bright red afterwards. He spoke too loudly and too quickly and the looks he was receiving just showed that even more. "I mean no. It's just.. you probably wouldn't like me if I told you what they're thinking."

"Why wouldn't I like you?"

Minho and Alby looked at each other, feeling obvious pity for the blond. He was in quite a bit of a predicament, and the pair were clearly to blame. Idiots.

Gally scoffed. "He likes men. Alby thinks you two like each other." He let out a sigh.

Thomas blinked at Gally. Then at Newt. Then at Gally. Then at Newt. Then he stared at Newt. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to respond to that because he couldn't like men and what he was feeling for Newt was simply platonic and he needed to get a wife not a husband and-

"I need to go."

He got up and ran. 

He didn't know where he was going. He was just trying to get away but he was crying and why was he crying? He was confused.

He fell to the ground, fists by his knees as he knelt on the ground.

He didn't know how long he had been there for. His crying had subsided but he still didn't know exactly why he had been crying.

"Tommy?" 

A gentle voice that Thomas thought sounded like honey and sweetness and safety and.. love. Platonic or romantic, he didn't know. Maybe it was more romantic than he thought. 

Romance between two men.

The thought was insanity but it didn't disgust him like it should have. Janson would've barked out a sinister laugh at the mere thought of it. Teresa would've recoiled if he ever spoke to her about it. Thomas didn't do either. No, the thought made him want to run to Newt. It made him want to change everyone's mind somehow. 

It made him annoyed. He wanted people to be free. Not cooped up and dying like animals sent to the slaughter house. Not forced to act a certain way, dress a certain way, speak a certain way. Not made to feel insignificant or irrelevant to society. Not made to feel absolutely petrified of showing off who you love.

Thomas wanted to show off who he loved. He wanted to tell everyone 'hey, I love this person!' whether 'everyone' liked it or not. 

So, not giving himself time to think about it, he shot up and ran to Newt. He wrapped his arms around Newt's neck, and rested his head on his shoulder. He didn't care. He didn't care if this was going to get him killed. All he cared about was this man in front of him and the people he had run from. 

"I'm getting you out of here. All of you." 

He didn't know where the words come from, nor the sudden burst of confidence. 

Newt let out a sad yet amused chuckle, the breath hitting his neck. It made Thomas shiver. "I hope you do, Tommy." A teardrop dropped onto his shoulder. "I hope you do."

Thomas pulled away and his vision was blurred again. "I promise I will. I promise."

y u h   y u h

idk how bad this is but yk

angst again????