Archive of Our Own

Essentially, everything and everyone wanted him dead, for no good reason. That was all Thomas had gathered since his arrival here. The kid that arrived at camp before him, a boy of twelve named Chuck, had been charged with showing him around and making him feel comfortable until he got claimed. Unfortunately, now he has been claimed, and Chuck is still stuck to him like glue. 

The kid was good at calming his nerves, but he was also very straightforward about everything, which just made Thomas freaked out again. He really didn’t feel great about his life expectancy. 

But whatever. Thomas could manage. He was a son of Hermes, and Hermes kids were supposed to fast, or whatever, right? He’d be fine. And apparently this Camp Half-Blood was the place to be for demigods, so he would just have to suck it up and accept his fate. 

“It’s actually surprising you survived this long without coming here,” Chuck says. “Most demigods don’t make it that long on their own. Especially not without being detected. You’re just lucky, I guess.”

Thomas certainly didn’t feel very lucky. Everything wanted to kill him, and his only friend in this whole stupid camp was a twelve year old boy. What about that screamed lucky? He might just be the unluckiest guy in all of existence. 

“Is there anyone my age around here?” Thomas asks, hoping to expand his friend group a little.

Chuck nods like that was the dumbest question in the world. “Duh,” he answers. “That girl Teresa is your age, I think. Maybe a little older. She’s the head counselor of the Athena cabin. She could kick your ass.” He points at a dark haired girl sitting on a bench, reading a book that’s bigger than her head.

She was quite pretty. Thomas was just making a general observation, there but it was the truth. Her eyes were so incredibly blue, so piercingly, strikingly blue. Which was weird. Thomas thought Athena kids were supposed to have gray eyes. And be blonde, for that matter.

“Not so fast,” Chuck says. “You see Gally over there?” Thomas nods hesitantly, remembering all too well his run in with Gally upon arrival. “You see that guy sparring with him?” Thomas nods again. He wasn’t blind. “That’s Minho. He’s a Zeus kid. And he’s Teresa’s boyfriend, so I wouldn’t try anything funny. If Teresa doesn’t kick your ass, Minho will.”

That guy looked like he could beat Thomas to a pulp, so he definitely did not intend to try anything funny. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of starting a romantic relationship with anyone at Camp Half-Blood. Weren’t they all related in one way or another? Chiron said it didn’t count, or whatever, but it certainly counted to Thomas.

“Right,” he says, not sure what else to say. 

He continues to look around the pavilion. Was there anyone else his age? There were tons of kids younger than hims, and a few a little bit older, but…

Okay. Who was that?

There’s one guy sitting on the bench beside Teresa. They weren’t talking, but they seemed friendly. He’s easily the prettiest guy Thomas has ever seen. Not in a creepy way, or anything. Just that he has the fluffiest blond hair, golden when the sun hit it right, soft curls framing his face. And his eyes. If Thomas thought Teresa’s eyes were striking, then the blond’s big green ones must be ethereal. Which is, of course, not to mention the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. 

He must be an Aphrodite kid. He was too stunning to be anything else. Then again, he seemed so isolated. The Aphrodite cabin seemed to travel in a gaggle. He could be an Apollo kid. He had that sun-kissed look about him. But again, he didn’t have the Apollo-confident air about him, either.

Chuck follows his gaze. “Oh. That’s… I can’t remember his name, actually. It’s something weird, though.” He pauses. “I know he has a little sister in the Aphrodite cabin. Sonya. She’s cool. They’re related through their mortal parent, though. Guess their dad must be really cool. He’s gotta be, to pull two different goddesses.”

Thomas nods slowly. Chuck has given him absolutely no useful information. He doesn’t even know this guy’s name. What was he supposed to do now?

“There was some kinda drama with him last summer,” Chuck offers. “Apparently he used to be pretty popular, but then he went through a really bad breakup, and now he mostly keeps to himself, and klunk.”

“Klunk?” Thomas asks, focusing on the part Chuck will have the most information on. 

“That’s my favorite word. It means poo. But it’s what I named one of my worms, too.”

“…You have pet worms?”

“Yeah. Four. I’m a Demeter kid, so it’s allowed,” Chuck explains. “Zart approved them. He’s the head counselor for Demeter.”

“…Right.”

Chuck nods to emphasize. “C’mon! I’ll introduce you.”

“To Zart?” Thomas asks. “I met him already.”

“No! My worms!”

“I… really don’t want to meet your worms, Chuck.”

“Sure you do! Let’s go!”

And then Thomas is being dragged away before he has a chance to put his foot down. Realistically, he could escape this fate. He could push out of the kid’s grasp and leave. He doesn’t, though, because so far, Chuck is the only one that likes him. He wants to have at least one friend in this place. 

So he gets stuck. Before he knows it, Chuck has brought him into the Demeter cabin and is introducing him to all four of his worms. None of their names are real names. They’re all just a bunch of letters smashed together in a sorry attempt at a real word. 

Thomas is supportive nonetheless. Until Chuck asks him to hold the worms. Then he has to put his foot down. He gets hit in the face with a worm. It was not a proud moment. 

It was a bad instance made worse when a girl in the cabin starts laughing. She tells Chuck to put his worms away, and the kid actually listens. She must be feeling sympathetic now. She helps Thomas to his feet, since he had fallen back in disgust when the worm hit him. 

“I’m Brenda,” she says. “Don’t worry. No worms in my pockets.”

“I’m not so sure I trust that,” Thomas says, now that he doesn’t have such a good track record with the Demeter cabin. 

Brenda rolls her eyes. Thomas thinks she’s pretty cool. She hasn’t hit him with a worm, or thrown him to the ground yet, so she’s already better than the other two demigods Thomas has interacted with. 

“You wanna walk?” Brenda asks. “I can tell you who’s worth introducing yourself to, and who isn’t.”

Thomas shrugs. Why not? “Sure,” he agrees.

He and Brenda go back outside. A few things have changed, but not much. 

Teresa has taken to doing crunches while reading. Her hair had been tied into a knot at the back of her head, but it was now slowly falling out of place. 

“Teresa’s cool,” Brenda says. “You met her yet?”

“Chuck told me about her,” Thomas says. “But he said I shouldn’t talk to her unless I want Minho to kick my ass.”

Brenda laughs. “Yeah,” she says. “That’s true enough.”

Minho is even more unnerving up close. He's tall and buff, his tight shirt showing off well defined muscles. Holy shit. Yeah, Thomas really didn't want to get on his bad side.

Minho's chatting with the blond boy from earlier, who doesn't seem as keen as Minho when it came to showing off his body. He's wearing a black long sleeved tee under his bright orange shirt (seriously, what was the thing with bright orange? Out of all the colors they could choose from?) and cargo pants. He's also flicking some sort of weird purple-black concoction at Minho, who doesn't seem to mind until he finds out what the concoction is. 

Thomas kind of wants to know what it is. He also kind of wants to know what that blond boy's name is. He's pretty. Thomas isn't sure if that's an observation that's okay to make, but he's never seen anyone as pretty as this guy. 

"Who's that?" Thomas asks Brenda. "With Minho?"

Brenda frowns at him. "Really? Him?" She asks, surprised. Thomas nods, a little confused. "That's Newt. Son of Hecate."

"What's he flicking at Minho?"

"Could be anything," Brenda says, shrugging. "Hecate's the goddess of magic, so, could range from water with food coloring to liquid death."

Thomas nods, acting like he's never heard anything more casual. But really, after everything he has heard and found out today, the thing about liquid death is only mildly concerning. Jesus, what has his life come to? Is he even allowed to say that anymore? Or is it kind of taboo?

"He's pretty," Thomas says before he can stop himself.

Brenda looks at him with wide eyes. She looks over at Newt and shrugs. "I mean, if you swing that way, I guess," she says. "Though most gay guys don't notice him, when he's always standing next to Minho or Alby."

Brenda gestures to who Thomas can only assume is Alby- a dark skinned guy who is equally as jacked as Minho. "Son of Hades."

"Right," Thomas says. "But look at him! He's adorable!"

"Go ask him out then," Brenda says, shrugging. "He's prolly kind of desperate for attention. Most people here kind of just overlook him. Doesn't say much, and he won't spar with anyone but Minho or Alby. Teresa, sometimes, but no one likes to spar with Teresa. She always wins."

So he was secluded. Who wouldn't want to keep to themselves, given how many things wanted them all dead? And what Chuck had said earlier?

"I'm going to talk to him," Thomas says blankly. Why was Brenda so against that? This guy looked so sweet.

Brenda shrugs again and waves him off. Thomas leaves without another word. Minho nods at him a little skeptically. Thomas nods back, hoping that was some kind of greeting. 

Minho looks at him oddly, and then back at Brenda, who gestures at Teresa unhelpfully. The son of Zeus shoots Thomas another distrusting glare but Thomas raises his hands in surrender, indicating that he's not into Teresa.

Minho shoots him one last glance, but then he goes to talk to Teresa anyway. That was fine. It'd be easier to introduce himself without an audience to make a fool of himself in front of, anyway. 

The blond boy looks a little uncomfortable, now that his friend has ditched him. He puts a cork in the bottle he'd been experimenting with. He eyes Thomas warily, pocketing the vial and sitting down, crossing his arms over his chest. He's visibly nervous.

Shit. The last thing Thomas wanted was to make him uncomfortable. He's.. he's just so pretty. Even more so up close. Thomas couldn't bring himself to say anything because he was lost taking in the blond's appearance.

"I'm Thomas," he says eventually, as he sees the blond boy shrink a little bit more. "Son of Hermes. I'm new."

Newt hesitates, but then he nods slowly. "I'm Newt," he says softly. "Nice to meet ya."

"I just.." Thomas begins, unsure of how forward to be. "I was sitting over there, and I thought that you looked... very attractive. So I thought I'd come over here and introduce myself."

Newt looks confused, and then he seems to falter. "Yeah," he says. "You're very funny. Keepin’ Nick’s memory alive, or whatever. You can go laugh about it with your friends now. Consider me fooled, or whatever."

"I'm serious," Thomas says instantly. Did Newt really think that he was trying to make fun of him? This was the prettiest guy he'd ever seen. "Chuck was trying to get me scared of Minho, but then I noticed you and that all went out the window."

He sits down next to Newt, being mindful enough to leave a respectful amount of distance between them as to not make him more uncomfortable. Newt doesn't look convinced. He's biting his lip and staring at the ground, hands now fidgeting in his lap.

"Very funny joke, Tommy," Newt says quietly. "You're a real laugh, mate."

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Thomas presses. He keeps his tone gentle because this guy has obviously been through something to make him this insecure, and Thomas doesn't want to fuel that. "I... I honestly don't think I've ever seen someone so pretty."

Newt stares at him blankly. And then his gaze hardens. "Oh, I see," he says distantly. "I'm not a girl, Tommy." He seems almost hurt at the insinuation. 

"Guys can be pretty too," Thomas says matter-of-factly, trying to save the conversation. "I know tons of pretty guys."

"What a flirt you are."

Thomas sighs, discouraged. He'd totally ruined all his chances with this guy, and they hadn't even been talking about for more than a few minutes. 

"Can we restart?" He asks. "I think I fucked up a little bit." He pauses, seeing Newt's disapproving stare. "A lot bit."

Newt just shrugs. "I s'pose," he manages. "But I'll be honest, Tommy, you aren't exactly piquing my interest here."

"Right," Thomas says. He can do this. He can do this.

What could he say to let this boy know he was serious? That he wasn't trying to make fun of him, or make a fool of him? What could he possibly say to properly explicate his probably outlandish devotion to him?

"So, um," Thomas says nervously, "do you come here often?"

Newt stares at him for a minute before bursting into laughter. Thomas watches him with wide eyes. If he'd thought his slightly uncomfortable talking had been music to his ears, what did that make his laugh?

"Sorry, Tommy," he says, looking back up at him again. "Not funny. Just.."

"A little funny," Thomas finishes. "It's okay. I wanted to make you laugh. I'm good at stuff like that, but, uh, not so much at serious conversations."

Newt nods slowly. "Yeah," he says. "Me neither."

"So, uh, what were you flicking at Minho earlier?" Thomas asks. He felt he was in a good enough place to be regularly friendly now. 

Newt hesitates for a moment before pulling the vial out of his pocket, handing it to Thomas. It had looked black from a ways away. From his spot by Brenda, Thomas could see the purple undertones, but the green ones hadn't been at all visible. 

"It's a love potion," Newt says. 

Thomas's eyes widen. "A love potion," he repeats. Newt nods. "You can make those? Seriously?"

"Not on my own," Newt says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But Lizzy's an Aphrodite kid, so I had a little help." He pauses, looking over at Minho. "We wanted to trick Minho into confessing his love for Gally, but I guess Teresa was placed a little too conveniently and got in the way. We've been workin' on that one for a while."

Thomas turns the vial over in his hand, watching the metallic shimmer of colors slosh around against one another, never quite mixing all the way. Not quite soluble. 

"Who's Lizzy?" He asks, handing the potion back to its creator. Newt takes it almost timidly, dropping in his pocket again. 

Newt looks over at a group of girls in the lake. "My little sister," he says, pointing at the blonde one in the middle. 

"She's not a Hecate kid, too?" Thomas asks, even though he already knows the answer. He just likes to hear Newt talk. 

Newt shakes his head. "A tad odd, I'll admit," he agrees. "But she really likes it there. I don't really get their stuff, but she loves it."

"They seem to like you," Thomas points out, gesturing to the group of Aphrodite kids that were all waving at them enthusiastically. 

Newt just sighs. He waits a few moments, trying to see if they'll stop. When they don't, he gives in, waving back. They all cheer when they catch the action, and then go back to what they were doing. They must really like him. 

"Brenda was so confused when I kept talking about you," Thomas says. "Looked at me like I grew a second head when I asked who you were, and then almost laughed at me when I said you were cute."
Sure, he changed his choice of word at that last part, remembering how Newt had practically recoiled when he'd called him pretty earlier. Newt didn't need to know that. It probably wouldn't bode over well. 

"Haven't got a lot of fans," Newt says, shrugging. "Not after last summer. Tend to keep to myself. Most people get that. You, though- you haven't taken the hint."

Thomas scoots a little bit closer to him. Newt doesn't say anything to protest, which Thomas counts as a win. 

"Guess you're stuck with me," Thomas says cheerfully. "Trust me, I'm not usually this annoying. You'll love me when you get to know me."

He winks as he finishes his statement, trying to indicate he's just being witty. Newt laughs. He sits closer to Thomas, who pretends not to notice their new proximity. Maybe Newt's taking his previous compliments a little more seriously now. 

"Yunno, Tommy," he says, leaning in a little bit closer. "Somehow, I think you might be right." 

Newt’s already walking away when Thomas comes up with his next little spiel. He’s got a slight limp. Thomas wonders if that had to do with a monster attack. Apparently they were always getting attacked by monsters. 

Thomas is frozen until it's too late, and then he watches Newt meet his sister by the lake. They're laughing about something, probably discussing the failure of their love potion plan.

Thomas ignores the way his face heats up as he goes back to find Brenda. Maybe he stood a chance after all. And he had to brag about that, because quite frankly, it was pretty crazy that he could manage to land someone that pretty.

“Guess who tolerated a conversation with me?” Thomas asks smugly, sitting down next to Brenda. 

Brenda’s eyebrows go up. “Really? That’s all that happened? That’s… surprising, actually.”

Thomas's look must portray enough of his confusion for Brenda to get the hint, because now it's her turn to look smug. And that she does. Thomas has to ask 'what' at least four times before Brenda actually responds.

"Well, y'know, word is he kind of... gets around," Brenda says. Thomas quirks an eyebrow. "Like, he's easy."

Thomas's brow furrows. "Are you trying to call him a slut?" He asks, dumbfounded. That shy, awkward boy? A whore? Thomas didn't think so. The blond had looked almost offended when Thomas tried to compliment him. 

There was just no way. Thomas didn't believe it. Not for a second. That was absolutely ridiculous. 

"Don't shoot the messenger," Brenda says, raising her hands in surrender. "I just know what other people say. That’s why he and Nick broke up last summer. Or that’s what Nick used to say, anyway. He’s died a few months back, though. Otherwise you’d have heard the same story from him."

Thomas just rolls his eyes. "He wouldn't dress the way he does if he was trying to whore around. It's counterproductive."

"He's just really secretive," Brenda says, shrugging. "Keeps to himself. Keeps his head down. People are always bitching about him behind his back. Prolly cause he slept with their boyfriends."

"Or maybe this is all a rumor, and you guys are actually making him isolate himself out of fear of not being accepted," Thomas ventures.

Brenda sighs. “Maybe,” she agrees. “All I know is that he and Nick had been perfect for each other, until they weren’t. Then they were at each other’s throats. Nick smacked him across the face and called him a whore in front of everyone. And Newt didn’t deny it.”

That didn’t really mean anything. People usually made up mean lies about former lovers. Especially if it was a bad break up, and especially if they had something to hide.

“It was a tough situation for anyone friends with them,” Brenda continues. “You had to pick a side. They wouldn’t go near each other. And who were you going to pick, the one that said they were the victim, or the one that wouldn’t say a word?”

Thomas isn’t sure why he’s getting the whole run down of a break up that occurred a year ago. It’s not exactly relevant, is it? If this Nick guy was already dead, then what was the point of bringing this back up? 

“Minho, Teresa, and Alby took Newt’s side, but they wouldn’t give us any details, either,” Brenda adds. “So I guess nobody knows what really happened between them. We just know what Nick said. And… Nick’s not a liar, Thomas.”

Thomas frowns. “The Aphrodite kids like Newt.”

“They like him because Sonya’s his sister,” Brenda says. “And because they like a project. Not because they think he’s in the right. There are only four people that think he’s in the right, and Newt’s not even one of them.”

“Where do you stand, then?”

“I don’t want to pick sides,” Brenda admits. “Newt was a great guy before everything happened. Now he’s just… miserable. And I don’t know what happened. Nobody’s going to tell the whole story. I guess… I don’t even know if Nick’s story was all that credible. But I sided with Nick at the start, so now Newt doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Thomas stares at Brenda for a while. He can sense the guilt radiating off of her from a mile away. She doesn’t really believe any of the rumors about Newt. She’s just struggling to find a way back into her old friend’s life, and acting against him is so much easier than the opposite. 

“So I guess, Thomas,” Brenda concludes, “all I’m saying is that if you do end up with Newt, you better rid him of all that misery. Maybe you’re the only one that can.” She pauses. “And maybe apologize for me?”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, quick to agree. “Of course I will.”

Brenda shoots him a grateful smile. She says nothing else on the subject. “Have you met Gally?” She asks next. 

“I have,” Thomas agrees. “We said two words, and then I got shoved.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Brenda says. “He hates everybody.”

“So, this Nick guy,” Thomas changes the subject back. “Would you say Newt’s hung up on him? Like, still not over what happened?”

“I… don’t know, Thomas,” Brenda says. “I haven’t really talked to Newt since it happened. You’d be better off asking his sister. She’s the one that’s most likely to know anything. And she’s apt to tell you. She loves a good love story. Aphrodite kid, and all.”

Thomas nods slowly, making a mental note to go find her later. He didn’t pursue a relationship with Newt if he was still upset over a very rough break up. That just wasn’t cool for him to do. And whatever happened to him not wanting to date anyone at camp? What happened to the family tree mattering to Thomas? Had all his principles gone out the window the second his gaze landed on Newt? Was that really all it took to change Thomas’s entire view on something?

“What’s his last name?” Thomas asks next. 

He knows so little about this guy. Maybe he shouldn’t be planning the wedding just yet. All he really knows is that his name is Newt, he’s a Hecate kid, and he went through a really messed up break up that Thomas was sure wasn’t his fault. 

And did he really want to go out with Newt, or did he just want to solve the mystery? Did he just want to figure out what had happened, since the rumors seemed so unlikely to him? And what kind of bias did he have, what kind of information had he actually acquired, when he’d been here all of one day? 

Maybe he should take this whole thing a bit slower. Having a bunch of monsters out to kill him didn’t mean he was on borrowed time. He could afford to live his life at a moderate pace. He didn’t have to rush through it and entirely restart everything. He could take his time figuring out what being a demigod meant before pursuing a guy that was obviously surrounded by problems and taboo at the moment. 

But he really didn’t want to wait.

He wanted Newt. That was stupid, it was irrational, and it was totally out of line. But it was the truth. Thomas was an impulsive person, but he’d never felt like making this impulsive of a decision. He needed to take his time with this. For Newt’s sake, if not his own. He needed to play the waiting game. 

That didn’t mean it would be easy. 

“Isaacs,” Brenda answers. “What? Need to know what you’re gonna change yours to?”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “No. I was just curious.”

“You could just go talk to him,” Brenda suggests. “Prove the whole camp wrong about him. I know you want to.” She frowns. “This better not be just a project to you.”

“It’s not,” Thomas assures her. “I swear. I really do…” What was his line of thought here? He felt sympathetic for a guy that was obviously being mistreated? Was he attracted to him? Most definitely. Did he like him? Yeah. It was the only explanation for all of this. 

Brenda nods slowly, knowingly, like she’d been aware of Thomas’s real feelings here before he had been. “Go on, lover boy. Spread some cheer.”

Thomas promises to catch her later, and then goes off in search of Newt. Unfortunately, it’s as if the blond has totally vanished. He’s not outside anywhere. Thomas stops at the Hecate cabin, but the counselor said he wasn’t there. Thomas got the feeling that he wasn’t going to be welcomed back to the Hecate cabin any time soon. They didn’t seem too keen on having visitors. 

His next stop is the Aphrodite cabin. He knocks on the door hesitantly, not sure what he would even say to whoever answers. 

A blonde girl opens the door. She looks just like her older brother; has the same curly hair, the same green eyes, the same complexion. So this must be Sonya. This was probably the best case scenario, except now Thomas had to explain to a fourteen year old girl that he was looking for her brother because he wanted to go out with him. 

“Oh, you’re the new kid, right?” She asks brightly. She’s quite cheery, all smiles. Thomas wonders if this is how Newt used to act, before everything had happened. “Thomas?”

Thomas nods. “Yeah, that’s me. I was looking for your brother. Is he in here?”

“No,” Sonya says. “But he was telling me about you. He seems to really like you, Thomas, so don’t mess this up. If you’re screwing with him, I’ll kill you myself. And I’ll get away with it. The pretty ones always do.”

Thomas knows for a fact that she isn’t kidding. 

“I’m not screwing with him,” Thomas promises her. “I actually really like him. He’s the only one I’ve met so far that I feel… comfortable with. If that makes sense. I’m kinda on edge around everyone else. But not Newt.”

Sonya shoots him a small smile. “Good,” she says. The previous warning is not retracted. “He might be in the Hades cabin. He and Alby hang out in there all the time.” She pauses. “And Thomas? Don’t let him push you away. He’ll try.”

Thomas nods pointedly. He had a feeling she was telling the truth about that one. He thanks her for her help and heads off in search of the Hades cabin. He gets lost. Chuck points him in the right direction, and then he’s off again. 

He’s a little frightened to knock this time. The Hades cabin isn’t nearly as welcoming as the Aphrodite cabin was. It’s not worse than the Hecate one, though, so he bites the bullet and knocks. Just once. Nothing excessive. He doesn’t want to piss anybody off. 

The cabin is quiet for a second. Two. And then the door opens. Alby opens the door. Thomas hasn’t spoken to him yet, and the guy is a lot more intimidating when standing right in front of him. Thomas is a little more than a little frightened.

“You’re the Greenie, right?” Alby asks, sounding uninterested. Thomas has no idea what that means, so he doesn’t answer. “Newt’s been tellin’ me all about ya. And I’ll be frank, Greenie, I don’t like you yet. You’d better not-”

“Will you quit scarin’ him?” Newt asks, joining Alby at the doorway. “Shank’s only been here a day. Don’t spook him outta here.”

Alby rolls his eyes. “I just don’t want this to be like last time. I let Nick take too much initiative, and look what happened.” Newt shoots him a look. “Fine. I’ll get outta here. My own cabin, by the way.”

Then Alby pushes past Thomas. Thomas takes this as his cue to enter the cabin, and so he does. Newt welcomes him in. They both stay standing, like they’re not sure what else to do. Thomas has a feeling Newt spends quite a lot of time in here. 

“You came back,” Newt says, surprised.

“Of course I did,” Thomas answers. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Figured you’d heard all the rumors by now, is all.”

Thomas shrugs. “I don’t care about the rumors. I don’t think they’re true.”

“They are,” Newt admits. “Well, some of ‘em, anyway. There’s a lot to it that nobody knows about, though. I don’t wanna correct ‘em. Rude to speak ill of the dead, and all.”

Thomas nods slowly. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. “You actually cheated on him?”

“No. Not really,” Newt says, sighing. “We had just broken up. I was drunk. But Nick didn’t see it that way. Guess he thought we were still together.”

“Why didn’t you correct anyone?” Thomas asks. “If you told them that, I bet they’d stop calling you a whore.”

“Maybe,” Newt ventures, “but then they’d start callin’ me a liar.”

Thomas had to doubt that. If these people could believe in gods and monsters and the like, surely they’d believe a teenage boy coming clean about a toxic situation. He hadn’t been here all that long, but wasn’t it common decency to believe someone who was opening up about something that serious?

“Why’d you guys break up in the first place?” Thomas asks. 

It’s not until after it comes out that he realizes Newt might not be comfortable discussing something like that. That whatever had happened might be a very sensitive subject that Newt doesn’t want to talk about with someone he just met.

Newt’s gaze drops to the ground. “It’s a long story,” he says finally. 

Thomas takes the hint. 

“Right. Sorry,” Thomas is quick to say. “I didn’t mean to push, or anything. I only wanted to help. I figured that this Nick guy wasn’t so great behind closed doors.”

“He certainly wasn’t,” Newt agrees. “Just not for the reasons you might expect.”

Thomas doesn’t push the discussion any further. 

By the time night rolls around, Thomas is informed that they’re supposed to play a game of capture the flag. He’s hyped. At first. He’d always been really good at capture the flag in elementary school. But then Brenda says it’s a special kind of capture the flag. She seems very annoyed at the thought. Maybe Camp Half-Blood capture the flag is different than regular capture the flag. 

“Suit up,” Brenda says. She’s really taken him under her wing. She’s gesturing to racks of armor. Thomas thinks that has to be overkill. 

"So this capture the flag thing," Thomas says, confused. "It actually requires armor?" 

Brenda nods gravely. "Oh, yes," she says. "Wish I was joking, Thomas, but you could get seriously hurt."

"And this is like...cool? Like, it's been approved by health and safety laws?" Thomas asks. Brenda stares at him blankly. That's answer enough.

"Does anything here look like it's abides by health and safety laws?" She asks. Thomas looks around. The answer is no, not really. So he stays quiet. Besides, this is just capture the flag, even if there's armor. How bad can it possibly be?

Very bad. The answer is very bad. 

Thomas is playing for all of two minutes before someone tackles him to the ground. He gets a trident in the face, which wasn’t nice, but doesn’t get gravely injured by it. He’s decided it’s time to venture out deeper into the woods. Away from the danger. He hasn’t been trained in any of this. 

He braces himself against a tree, leaning over as he tries to catch his breath. Brenda was right to warn him. This was insane. 

“See, now I reckon you’re finding ways to ran into me.”

Thomas pushes off the tree, straightening up as he turns around. He’s a little frightened that the girl with the trident has come back to finish him off, but then he sees it’s just Newt. Good. Thomas really wasn’t in the mood for a fight. And while he and Newt are technically on opposite teams, he knows Newt isn’t going to attack him. 

“Hiding?” Thomas asks. “Cause that’s what I’m doing, too.”

Newt shrugs. “Sort of,” he says. “Technically, ‘m not supposed to be playing.”

“No?” Thomas prompts. “Why not?”

He wonders if it has to do with all the alienation. He can’t imagine it would. Social isolation couldn’t involve being excluded from camp sanctioned activities. Not even Thomas’s “new guy” status excluded him from the camp sanctioned activity. 

Newt gestures unhelpfully at his left leg. Thomas does recall he’d walked with a limp earlier. “Broke my leg a few months back. Hasn’t healed all the way. Jeff, one of the Apollo kids, he says I’m not to exert myself. Says it’ll never heal all the way if I don’t take a break.”

“This is your definition of taking a break?” Thomas asks next. “Standing around in the forest? I don’t think that’s very good for your leg.”

“Perhaps not,” Newt says, “but ‘s better than participating.”

“You should sit down, at least,” Thomas continues. “C’mon. I’ll keep you company.”

Newt looks like he wants to protest, so Thomas takes him by the shoulder and gently pushes him down. Newt rolls his eyes, but relents. Thomas sits down beside him, careful to leave a thoughtful amount of distance between them. He didn’t want to seem too imposing, after all. 

 “You can go play, if you want,” Newt says, breaking the silence.

Thomas looks over at him. “I really don’t want,” he admits. “I was there for, like, four seconds, and I got a trident to the face.” 

He gestures to the cut on his temple with displeasure. He was probably bleeding, but he couldn’t really tell. Did having blood running down his face make him look unattractive? Maybe it made him even more attractive. He hoped it was the latter.

Newt leans forward, brow furrowed. He reaches forward hesitantly, two fingers brushing across Thomas’s cheekbone. Thomas stays perfectly still, as if maybe if he moved, Newt would pull away. That certainly wasn’t something he wanted to happen. Newt’s fingers push against the cut ever so tenderly. 

“You’re in luck,” Newt says, “you’re not bleedin’ anymore.” His fingers drag across Thomas’s face as he pulls away, probably wiping away the blood that remained. 

“Thanks,” Thomas says dumbly, because he doesn’t know what else to say. 

“Here,” Newt says, producing a small vial of blue solution from his pocket and handing it to Thomas. “It’ll make ya feel better.”

Thomas stares at the tonic, not sure if he should take it or not. “Is this gonna make me fall in love with Gally?” He teases, hoping Newt will provide an actual explanation. 

“No, ‘s just a painkiller,” Newt says, laughing gently. “And a disinfectant. Shanks ‘round here typically don’t sanitize their tridents on the regular.”

Thomas decides he trusts Newt enough to believe him, and uncorks the vial. He hesitates only momentarily before downing the tonic in a single swig. Too much hesitation would probably just make Newt think Thomas didn’t trust him, which wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He really didn’t want that to happen. They’d already gotten off to a rocky start. 

He does start to feel better. Pretty much right away, actually. He didn’t know a potion like that was even possible to brew. Why were they wasting their time with regular medical practices when they had a get out of jail free card?

“They don’t use that in the infirmary?” Thomas asks, hoping to prompt a conversation.

Newt shrugs. “Not allowed to,” he answers. “Apparently it’s too unreliable. One test subject sprouts wings, and all of a sudden your invention’s a hazard.” He stops talking when he sees Thomas’s expression and bursts out laughing. “Kidding, Tommy, I’m kidding.”

“Please tell me I’m not your first test subject,” Thomas says playfully.

“I promise you’re not,” Newt says. “’S perfectly safe. No one’s actually suffered any horrid side effects.” He pauses. “Yet. You might be the first. So watch out for that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Thomas assures him, winking to indicate that he’s still teasing. Anyway, he hopes that last bit was still a joke. Maybe he shouldn’t blindly drink random tonics given to him, regardless of who it was that had given it to him. 

He stares at the empty bottle in his hands, turning it over casually, just to give his hands something to do. 

“I trust you way more than I should,” Thomas says. Newt shoots him an odd look. “I mean, I just found out that everything’s out to get me. I should have every defense up. I should go completely bonkers and build some kind of bunker. But instead, I’m out here in the middle of nowhere, with you, doing whatever the hell you tell me to.”

Newt smiles softly. Then he leans over and pecks Thomas on the cheek, still saying nothing. 

Thomas stares at him, dumbfounded. Had that really just happened? Was it bad that Thomas wanted to close that distance between them once more and kiss him properly? Probably. They barely knew each other. He needed to take it down a notch. 

“What was that for?” He finally manages to ask. 

Newt shrugs. “Want me to take it back?”

“No,” Thomas says quickly. “I really don’t.”

And it was the complete and honest truth.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Thomas spent a considerable amount of time doing absolutely everything, all at once. He further developed his friendships with Brenda and Chuck. He trained with a sword. (Archery, too, but he wasn’t any good at that.) He did his best to steer clear of Gally. He tried (and failed) to get on Alby’s good side.

And, above all else, fell head over heels in love with Newt. 

A large section of every day was dedicated to hanging out with Newt. Thomas knew everything there was to know about him, or just about. He knew about Newt’s middle school obsession on the color orange, and how he adored playing chess (Thomas had challenged him several times, and lost every game), and how he had a strange love for old western novels. 

Was it odd, how quickly Thomas had fallen for him? Maybe a little. But it felt like they’d known each other for years. Maybe that was just how it was, when you fell in love. Maybe you know your soulmate all your life, but don’t realize it until you meet for the first time. Or maybe Thomas was just grasping at straws because of how utterly whipped he was. 

“Okay, so I have to ask,” Thomas says. “What is the deal with you and the Aphrodite cabin? They’re, like, obsessed with you.”

Newt takes some time to consider this. It had to be a valid question. They adored him. Every last one of them. And from what Thomas had seen, Newt didn’t really interact with any of them, aside from his sister. 

“I dunno,” Newt says finally. “I guess they think of me is family, since we’re related through Lizzy. They’re a bit… loud, though. Most of ‘em, anyway. I don’t tend to spend much time over there.”

That was another thing Thomas had learned about Newt. He didn’t like to be anywhere busy. Hanging around in a big gaggle was an absolute no-go. But just him and Thomas, standing by the lake? That was okay. It got iffy if there were other people hanging around, but at this point in the day, they were fine. 

“Gotcha,” Thomas says. He shrugs. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be around you? I get it.”

Newt tilts his head to the side, smiling softly. "I really hope you're not doing this because you think I'm easy, Tommy," he says. He leans forward a little, to the point that Thomas can feel his breath on his neck. "'Cause I'm not."

"I'm doing this because I think I'm in love with you," Thomas says instantly. "You're the prettiest boy I've ever seen. And, like, not in, like, a feminine, I-think-you're-a-girl way." He pauses, smile growing a little bigger. "And you're obviously a really nice person, and you care about your sister a whole lot, and you have quite the incredible sense of humor."

Newt hesitates. His smile twitches a little bit, like he hadn't been expecting an answer like that. Like he'd been expecting a half-assed lie. Maybe he had been. 

"You... are you serious?" Newt asks. He's always been quiet and soft-spoken. But this is even more timid than usual. "You.. like.. you genuinely..?"

"I'm not planning on giving up," Thomas says, smiling kindly. "So you'd better get used to seeing a lot of me."

Newt takes a step closer to him. He leans onto his toes and kisses Thomas on the mouth. He pulls away just slightly, his breath hot on Thomas's lips. "I think I can deal with that," he murmurs. 

"Is that a yes?" Thomas asks.

Newt tilts his head to the side, and then he nods. "Sure it is, Tommy," he says brightly. "Never asked someone out before?"

"Nope," Thomas says. 

And then he wraps his arms around the blond's waist, pulls him flush against him, leans down, and kisses him. Newt doesn't even hesitate before looping his arms over Thomas's shoulders, kissing him harder.

Newt pulls away first. "Am I your first boyfriend, Tommy?" He asks.

"Course you are," Thomas says instantly, still holding him close. "Never been as attracted to someone as I am to you."

"You really know how to make a guy feel special." Newt kisses him again. It's just as gratifying as the first time, though it's a little more chaste. Not by a whole lot, of course, but it's shorter all the same. Thomas pulls away this time, hands lingering on the blond's hips. 

“Capture the flag tonight,” Newt says quietly. “You wanna stick with me?”

"I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I'd follow you to the end of the Earth if you asked me to," Thomas says quickly. It's a little weird to realize that that wasn't even an exaggeration. 

Newt hesitates, a little bit unconvinced, but then he smiles softly, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. At least he actually believed it now. That alone was an upgrade. The kissing was nice too. 

"Hey, you're the Greenie, right?"

Thomas turns around, a little bit disappointed to have removed his hands from the blond. Being even this far away filled him with longing. It's Minho, the one that called out to him. That was a little surprising, given their first meeting. 

"I... maybe?" Thomas answers. He still doesn't really know what that means. 

Newt laughs quietly. "It's his slang. For newbie," he whispers, his breath hot on the brunet's ear. 

"Oh, then yeah," Thomas says, looking at Minho again and trying his best to ignore the way his face heats up, given his and Newt's new proximity. 

Minho laughs, stopping about a foot away from them. "Y'know, for a second, I was worried you were into Teresa," he confesses. "But now I guess I should tell you that I'll kill you if your hurt my best friend."

He's smiling and his composure is laid back, but Thomas is absolutely positive that his statement is more of a warning than a threat. So he nods and assures him that he wouldn't dream of it.

And he wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. He'd known Newt for all of two months, and he was more in love with him than he's ever been in love with anyone. 

"Good," Minho says, satisfied but still slightly skeptical. 

Newt rolls his eyes. He mutters something bitter to Minho, but Thomas doesn’t quite catch it. Whatever is said, Minho is not perturbed by it. 

Minho continues his spiel about being protective and not wanting him to get hurt, adding an extra little flare of dramatic. Newt ignores the warnings and threats, opting instead to place his hands on Thomas's biceps and kissing him again.

Thomas's hands fly to the blond's waist on their own accord, gripping tightly and pulling him closer. Newt doesn't seem to mind, pushing closer of his own volition. 

They pull away only when Minho starts gagging loudly, adding coughing and sputtering into the mix when he notices they're still holding each other. He actually doesn't stop until there's a good foot of distance between the two of them.

"You know, I just think you two are a little close," Minho says eventually. "Actually, let me just..." he grabs Newt by the wrists and drags him to his side, even farther away from Thomas. "Yeah, yeah. That's better."

Newt hesitates. He winks at Thomas and then shows Minho the remnants of the love potion. "I will dump this on you and force you to confess to Gally," he says blankly. "Do not push me."

Minho eyes the potion warily. He takes a step away from the blond. "Fine," he relents teasingly. "Go fuck in a public space. See if I care." He pauses, elbowing Newt in the ribs. He stops his teasing when he hears the blond's sharp inhale to make sure he's alright, but continues when he is. "Just use protection~ I don't want any... any quartergods running around here."

And then he skips off, probably to find Teresa. Newt mutters something about "quartergods" under his breath and he returns to Thomas's side, still gasping a little to catch his breath. Had Minho elbowed him that hard?

"You alright?" Thomas asks softly. This seems like it's on the brink of something very important, and Thomas doesn't want to push him. 

Newt nods slowly. But then he looks up at the brunet, eyes shining with guilt. "Actually, maybe... maybe there's something I should tell you. Before we get... serious, I guess."

Thomas nods, a gesture for him to continue. A patient one, though. But Newt just takes him by the hand, interlocking their fingers as he leads them up towards the lake. He stops in a little clearing, the one the Aphrodite kids had been standing in earlier. And then he pulls them both down to sit.

"It's kinda hard for me to...y'know, to say," Newt manages. "Not many people know this. Min, Alby, Teresa. Nick did, back then. Don't ask about that."

Thomas raises his hands in surrender, assuring the blond that he would not. He's really very curious now though. What was he about to find out? Was it something illegal, maybe? A dangerous secret?
He patiently waits for Newt to continue. He's not going to force him to blurt out something that's obviously a difficult topic. That's just not cool.

"I'm...um," Newt cuts himself off. He's staring at the ground in front of him, rather than at Thomas. Like he can't bring himself to meet the brunet's gaze. "Wow. This is harder than I thought it'd be."

Thomas squeezes his hand tightly in reassurance. He was sticking around. Nothing Newt could tell him would ever drive him away. No matter what. And he was going to stick by that. 

"Take your time," Thomas murmurs, smiling his encouragement. 

Newt glances at him briefly, smiling anxiously. And then his gaze fixes on the lake instead. Thomas was getting a little bit worried, though he'd never admit that. 

"Sorry," Newt says quietly. "I've just... I really care. About you. And what you think of me. And I don't want you to hate me."

Thomas's brow furrows. He places his free hand under the blond's chin, turning his head to look at him. Newt's eyes are wide and glassy, bottom lip trembling. Oh no.

"I could never hate you," Thomas assures him. "I promise. There's nothing you could ever say that would ever scare me away from you."

Newt smiles nervously, squeezing his hand a little tighter. It's starting to lose feeling now, but Thomas decides against saying that. He can suffer for a little while if it assures Newt's comfortability. "I'm.. I'm trans," he finally utters. "And-"

"And he elbowed you and you couldn't breathe," Thomas finishes for him, looking around for Minho so he could yell at him. "And he knows? What a jerk!"

Newt stares at him anxiously. Waiting for an actual response to what he'd said. Waiting for approval. Or maybe waiting for Thomas to get up and leave and never speak to him again.

"Sorry," Thomas says softly. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have been the first thing out of my mouth."

Newt shakes his head, indicating his agreement. Thomas snakes an arm around his waist, hand closing on his hip and pulling him close. The blond goes willingly, head falling onto Thomas's chest. 

"I don't hate you," Thomas begins, his free hand closing over both of Newt's which had been fidgeting anxiously in his lap. "I don't see you any differently, either. I'm just... holy shit, do I feel bad for calling you pretty. You should've hit me."

Newt smiles, pressing a little closer to him. He doesn't say anything, which is fine, because Thomas isn't done whispering reassurances.

"I love you," Thomas continues. "I love you so much. Nothing could ever change that."

Newt looks up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you, too."

“Can I ask you something?” Thomas asks.

“Anything.”

“Why did you and Nick break up?” Thomas inquires. Newt shoots him an uncomfortable look. “You don’t have to go into specifics. I just wanna know where he went wrong so I don’t make the same mistake.”

Newt hesitates, tenses momentarily, and then he relaxes again. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ve already passed.”

“What? You mean his issue was with you being-?” Newt nods. “Seriously?”

“He said it wasn’t,” Newt explains. “He was totally accepting about it, actually. Until he wasn’t. Until we…” His voice trails off.

Thomas nods patiently. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. He really hoped he was wrong. He knew enough about the break up to figure out how it must have ended. For Newt’s sake, he hoped he was wrong, even if he was quite sure he wasn’t.

Newt’s hold on him tightens. “I guess I didn’t know what to expect. It was my first time.” He stares intently at the ground. “And he called me a girl.”

So Thomas had been right. Nick had absolutely fucked up, and for whatever reason, Newt had never told anyone, or outed him. Now, however, Thomas saw the truth for what it was. Newt never told anyone the truth because it meant coming out to the whole camp. Even if he left that part out, Nick would surely have filled in the little details.

“Oh, Newt…”

“I guess it all clicked after that,” Newt says quietly. “He’d been treatin’ me like a girl since day one. I’d just never realized that.” He pauses. “But I was so upset I was just kinda… frozen. Horrified, but frozen. He finished, and stood up, and I told him I was leaving him.”

That seemed to make everything fall into place. No wonder Nick didn’t realize the relationship was over, if Newt had dropped it on him like that. But Thomas didn’t think he could have acted any differently, had he been in Newt’s position. To be so open and vulnerable, only to be entirely invalidated and violated in return… Who could blame Newt for reacting the way he did? Breaking it off like that must have taken a lot of courage. 

“So, yunno, reasonably, I’m a mess. Minho finds me. We get drunk.” Newt looks over at Thomas. “I reckon you already know what happened after that.” His eyes widen. “This was before he started goin’ out with Teresa, mind you. ‘M not a homewrecker.”

Thomas tries to play this off nonchalantly. So his boyfriend had hooked up with the hottest guy at camp. Okay. No competition there. Right? Minho was with Teresa. Then Thomas remembers that this is not at all the point of this discussion. This is about Nick, and how he royally fucked up. 

“Sounds like you had a pretty reasonable reaction,” Thomas ventures, trying to let Newt know he was on his side. “I don’t think anyone could blame you for any of that.”

Newt shakes his head. “I was being stupid and irresponsible. I should have talked it out with Nick, rather than stormin’ out. And I never should have gotten drunk.” He sighs. “Most importantly, though, I should have told him to stop.”

“It’s perfectly normal to freeze up in a situation like that,” Thomas informs him. “That’s not on you. Nick should have been checking in. Especially if it was your first time.”

“I messed up, too,” Newt insists. “’M not gonna do that this time ‘round.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Thomas tells him, “because I would never put you in that position in the first place. What Nick did was totally wrong, and you had every right to react the way you did.”

Newt frowns. “I don’t even really remember it,” he admits. “Guess I dissociated so bad I blocked it all out. Everyone calls me a whore, and I don’t even remember what it feels like.”

“What, you don’t remember from your time with Minho?” Thomas asks, only slightly jealous. He immediately recognizes that he should apologize for being so inconsiderate, but Newt seems more amused than anything.

“I was insanely drunk, Tommy,” he says. “I dont remember a thing.” He shoots Thomas a teasing smile. “I was quite sore when I woke up the next morning, though. I reckon you might have a lot to live up to.”

Thomas rolls his eyes. Then he hugs the blond a little tighter to his chest. Jokes or no, this was still an incredibly delicate situation, and needed to be handled accordingly. Thomas still had lots of reassuring and consoling to do. Even if Newt seemed to be treating this lightly. 

“You’re not a whore,” Thomas tells him. “And I don’t see you any differently. I’m so sorry you had to deal with all that on your own.”

Newt shrugs. “’M not a victim here. I fucked up, too. I don’t really have any ill will towards Nick. He messed up, and so did I. ‘S all a thing of the past.”

Thomas doesn’t think it’s so simple. There’s something Newt isn’t ready to tell him yet, and he doesn’t intend to push. He’s heard a lot today. Newt’s been vulnerable enough for one day. Thomas doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“Gotcha,” Thomas says. “Well, thank you for telling me everything. I’m so glad you feel comfortable enough with me to share all of this.”

“’S your turn now,” Newt says.

“Huh?”

“Well, I shared a big secret,” Newt elaborates. “Now you’ve gotta share one.”

Thomas wasn’t sure he had any big secrets. He hadn’t had a very eventful life prior to coming to Camp Half-Blood. Did he have a story to tell? Not really, but he’d do his best. Anything for his boyfriend.

“When I was twelve,” Thomas says, “I really liked one of the girls in my class, and I wanted to impress her.” He pauses. “So I stole four hundred dollars worth of candy to give to her.” Newt looks unimpressed with his secret. “Only, my mom caught me, and made me give it all back. I was really mad, so I told my dad she was cheating on him.”

Newt’s eyes widen. “Really? Why-?”

“Well, I didn’t know she actually was,” Thomas concludes. “I thought I was making it up. To this day, she blames me for the divorce. Guess it was a win, though, because the girl agreed to be my girlfriend when she found out.”

“You’re not serious,” Newt says, incredulous. 

“Quite serious,” Thomas says. “The girl dumped me a week later. That’s when Franky Stephens broke his leg. You just can’t compete with a guy with a cast and crutches.”

Newt nods slowly. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. See, now Thomas has just made everything awkward. This is why he doesn’t tell stories about himself. He totally kills the mood.

“Well, ‘m very sorry your relationship didn’t work out,” Newt finally says. “But not too sorry, actually, because we’re dating now and I’m probably much better.”

“Oh, definitely much better,” Thomas promises him. “You’re my Franky Stephens.”

“Oh, man,” Newt says sarcastically. “That’s what I’ve always wanted to hear. I didn’t know you were such a charmer.”

“Woah! Look out!”

Was that Chuck? What on Earth was going on? Thomas turns around. Just in time to see the biggest dog he’s ever seen running towards them. This thing was huge. And not just average, run-of-the-mill huge, but alien huge. Like, bigger than Thomas and Newt combined huge. 

Newt does not look at all alarmed by the literal anomaly barreling towards them. Thomas thinks this might be a bit of an under reaction. How is he so calm? They’re gonna get seriously trampled in a second. 

“What have I told you about using a leash?” Newt asks Chuck, sounding disappointed, exasperated, but not at all frightened. “You know how Bark is when he gets out.”

Chuck groans. “But he looked lonely, and I wanted to scare Thomas! It’s a win-win situation!”

Newt frowns at him. “It certainly is not-”

That’s all he gets out before the hound (Bark?) tackles him to the ground. Thomas makes to rush over and help, but notes it seems more playful than violent. In fact, Newt bursts out laughing as the dog starts licking his face. Newt allows this for a few moments before shoving the hound off of him and pulling himself to his feet. 

“Tommy,” Newt says, “I s’pose it’s time you’re formally introduced to the resident hellhound.”

“His name’s Bark,” Chuck adds unhelpfully, coming to stand next to Newt and Thomas.

Since when had they had a resident hellhound? Weren’t those things supposed to be crazy dangerous? Brenda and Teresa had both told him that. This one, Bark, certainly didn’t seem too bad.

“Don’t let Bark lie to you,” Chuck continues. “Bark’s still dangerous. He likes Newt because he’s a Hecate kid. Dogs are Hecate’s thing. The Hades kids are cool, too. Everyone else still has to be careful.”

Thomas nods slowly, not sure what the hell that really means. But he didn’t need Chuck to tell him to stay away from that thing. He didn’t want to get mauled. That’d be a pretty rough way to go out. 

“What’s Bark doin’ out, anyway?” Newt asks Chuck. “Did you sneak him out again? We’ve talked about this. Several times.”

“Chiron wants him out for capture the flag tonight,” Chuck says defensively. “I didn’t execute any break outs this time.”

Chiron wanted this thing out while they were playing capture the flag? An already deadly and violent game of capture the flag? Surely Chuck was joking. This place tended to disregard the health code of conduct, but this had to be pushing it.

“You’re not serious,” Newt says, clearly thinking along the same lines. “Bark won’t do well around that many people in that sort of environment.” Okay, maybe not quite the same lines. “He’s way too buggin’ anxious for that. Bring him back.”

Chuck sighs, disappointed. “Even if Chiron said?”

“Even if Chiron said,” Newt confirms.

Chuck sighs once more, but he calls out to Bark to get his attention and then leads him away. Thomas is quite relieved. And then he begins to dwell on Chuck’s choice of words.

“Chiron never asked him to do that, huh,” he says.

Newt shakes his head. “No, he certainly didn’t.”

“Well, good thing he rain into you, then,” Thomas says, reaching over and threading their fingers together.

“That bloody dog loves me,” Newt says, sounding exasperated. “It really wasn’t luck.”

Thomas nods slowly. He did see that. He had to wonder how often this sort of thing happened.

“We ought to get going, anyway,” Newt says, changing the subject. “Can’t be late, now, can we?”

Thomas could argue that being late could do the two of them some very serious favors. Skipping capture the flag never killed anyone. 

Actually, Thomas would really love some alone time with Newt. They had only just started dating. They needed some time to themselves to figure out who they were as a couple. Shouldn’t they start that now?

But Newt is already leading him up the hill, so Thomas supposes it’s too late to make such an argument. 

“What do you want me to do?” Thomas asks.

He’s been training for several months now, but his skills in capture the flag have not improved in the slightest. He knows it. And Teresa knows it, too. 

“Just… stay out of the way,” she says. “And don’t get caught doing anything explicit in the woods. It reflects badly on the rest of us.”

Thomas nods in understanding. The same plan as always then. 

But, as always, he’ll stick to Newt and at some point, they’ll sneak off and chat for the rest of the night. How bad could a few minutes of playing possibly be?

Very bad. It can be very bad. And it is. 

It's terrible. Dangerous and horrible. Thomas was in the game for all of ten seconds before he got punched in the face. According to Newt, he should be thankful he didn't get stabbed in the face. 

"You guys actually like playing this?" Thomas asks, incredulous. 

He and Newt are a little distance away from everyone else. Which is totally fine by him, since he really doesn't want to get involved in this game, and he really wants some alone time with his boyfriend. 

"Well, lots of kids do," Newt says. "Me, though? I'm with ya one hundred percent."

"So, hypothetically, we could sneak away?"

"Well, no," Newt says. "But there are plenty of things we can do in a desolate woodland, Tommy." 

Maybe it's the flirtatious tone, or the subtle wink. Or the seductive way the blond's hands are dragging down his arm. But he knows exactly what's going on here, and he is not about to put a stop to it.

"I'm sure there are plenty of ways this could go wrong," Thomas says instead. Because, really, of all the places, they're going to fuck in the woods? "What if someone walks in on us?"

Newt presses flush against him, hands looping around his neck and drawing him impossibly closer. "They can mind their business."

"This is such a bad idea," Thomas continues, grabbing the blond's hips and kissing him hard. Maybe he should listen to his own instincts. But when have his instincts ever actually been right about anything?

Newt giggles, kissing the corner of his mouth before pulling away a little. "Really? I think your body's betraying you, then, Tommy."

"I think my body's just really into your body," Thomas says back. That sounded dumb, he decides, but Newt doesn't seem to mind, rolling his hips into Thomas's. 

Thomas kisses him to suppress a groan. He bites at the blond's bottom lip, earning a sharp inhale and a little gasp. The brunet takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside Newt's mouth, running it along the backs of his teeth. 

He whimpers. Actually whimpers. And Thomas loves the sound of it, so he does it again. 

"Just," Newt utters, pulling away slightly. His lips brush Thomas's as he speaks. "Just bloody fuck me already."

"In the middle of the woods?" Thomas asks. He's not exactly opposed to the idea. Well, he is logically, but his body is screaming shut up at his logic. "What if we get caught?"

"Sounds like their bloody problem," Newt says, hands brushing the bare skin of Thomas's abdomen. When had his hands even drifted that low? 

Thomas's hands dip under the blond's shirt, tracing shapes on his bare hips and waist. Newt gasps, arching into the touch. How does his back even arch that much? His hands gravitate a little higher, fingertips just dipping under his binder, grazing soft flesh. 

He stops there, searching the blond's face for a sign of discomfort. He doesn't find any. He asks anyway. "Is this okay?"

"Gross! Ew!"

Newt turns around slowly, shaking Thomas's hands off of him. "Min," he says calmly. "You won this thing yet?"

Minho's got his hands over his eyes, gagging teasingly. The fake coughs and sputters are so loud Thomas isn't sure he heard Newt's question. Not that it was for anything but a greeting, anyway. "I thought the objective here was to get the other team's flag, not get fucked by the other team!" Minho continues, shaking his head in staged disgust.

"We're actually on the same team," Newt says. It doesn't vouch for their innocence, but Minho's probably seen enough for it to be past the point of no return. 

"Did you find anythi- oh, hey Newt."

Newt manages a tense smile. Obviously getting caught in real life wasn't anything like it had been in his little fantasy. "Hey, Alby," he says. "Have you meet Tommy?"

"Sort of," Alby "This is the boyfriend Minho told me about? The one I don’t like?"

Newt nods pointedly. "Yeah," he says. 

"You're not gonna hurt him, are ya?" Alby asks pointedly, glaring at Thomas. The threat goes unspoken. It doesn't need to be vocalized. Hurt him. See what happens. 

Thomas shakes his head adamantly. "Of course not!" He says. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Stop bloody interrogating him," Newt says teasingly, squeezing Thomas's hand tightly as he takes another step away from him. 

Fair enough. They'd still been standing practically flush against each other, and it was making it fairly obvious to the others what they had been up to just a few moments earlier.

"Guys! Help!"

Thomas turns around quickly. He doesn't see the others, but he's sure they do the same. Teresa's running at them, waving a flag eagerly. There's another boy chasing after her, probably on the other team.

Newt’s brow furrows. The color drains from his face. Thomas has been around here long enough to know that whatever’s going on here isn’t going to be good. If whoever’s chasing Teresa is scary enough to frighten Newt, then he’s definitely not a force to be reckoned with. 

“That’s not…” Newt manages. “It can’t be.”

Teresa runs past them and crashes into Minho’s chest. Minho wraps his arms around her protectively. None of them wanted this guy around, then. 

“You’re dead,” Newt says, incredulous. 

“No,” the guy says, stopping a few feet away from them. “You all left me for dead and assumed the worst. There’s a difference.”

Thomas tries to use context clues to put two and two together. It’s just that his only idea doesn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be him, could it? But if he was as dead as everyone said he was, then that was literally impossible. 

“You have some nerve comin’ back here, Nick, after what you did,” Alby snaps.

So Thomas’s speculations were right. Somehow. This was Nick, cold and dead as he should be. He didn’t want to ask how. Not when it was clear that no one had the answer.

“What I did,” Nick repeats. “It’s always about what I did, isn’t it? After all, your precious whore here can’t do any wrong.”

Alby’s stare hardens. “What you did was a hell of a lot worse.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Minho adds. “You don’t get to talk, Nick. Don’t you dare play the victim. You have no idea what you put Newt through. What you put all of us through.”

“Newt’s a fucking slut, and we both know it,” Nick says. 

“Don’t call him that,” Thomas snaps. 

Newt, he notes, has remained strangely silent throughout this whole exchange. That wasn’t like him. Nick coming back from the dead must have really shaken him up. 

“Oh? And who are you?” Nick asks. “Newt’s newest victim?”

“His boyfriend, if that’s what you mean,” Thomas says.

“A pretty prize, I’ll admit,” Nick says. “Even prettier when he’s pinned beneath you, shaking, gasping, breasts heaving with every sharp breath-”

“Watch it, asshole,” Teresa interjects.

“A pretty prize,” Nick repeats. “It just so happens he’s a prize that’s very easy to win.”

Thomas doesn’t notice Newt has left his side until the blond is in front of him, striking Nick across the face. There’s nothing to fault him for, either. Quite frankly, Thomas is surprised he held off that long. 

“We were over,” Newt says firmly. “I never cheated on you.”

“Yes, because you made the break up so abundantly clear, did you!?”

“You called me a girl!”

“I called it like I saw it!”

“’M glad I slept with Minho,” Newt says angrily. “He was much better than you. Bigger, too.”

Teresa nods soundly. “He’s not wrong.”

Newt and Nick continue arguing. For someone who was “totally over it,” Newt’s had a lot of colorful words to throw Nick’s way. 

“Should we stop them?” Thomas asks.

“Nah, let Newt have this,” Minho says. “We’ll step in if he starts losing.”

“That was our business,” Newt snaps, recapturing Thomas’s attention. “You had no right to do that in front of the whole camp. Especially not without trying to discuss it privately, first.”

“You cheated on me!”

“We were over! I left you! Getting with Minho was inconsiderate of me, but it wasn’t cheating!”

“Well, what did it look like, Newt!?” Nick demands. “You ended it immediately after we finally do it, and then hook up with Minho within the hour? It certainly seems that you were only in it for one thing.”

“We’d been dating for months,” Newt argues. “You should have known me better than that.”

“You betrayed me.”

“You betrayed me first.”

“Oh, so I say one wrong word, and it’s over? Wasn’t it you that told me a relationship only works with good communication?”

Newt’s brow furrows. “You were treating me like your girlfriend. Communication can’t fix that.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly call you my boyfriend, could I?” Nick asks. “Especially not when you looked like that. The epitome of femininity.”

Thomas figures Newt’s going to hit him again. Really, why wouldn’t he, after an insult like that? Hell, Thomas was inclined to do the hitting himself. But Newt doesn’t hit him. The blond’s face falls, and he takes a step back. Nick follows. Newt takes another. He keeps backing up, and Nick keeps chasing him. Someone ought to step in now, right? He looks at Teresa for answers. She shakes her head. Not yet. 

Newt’s back is pressed against a tree trunk. For three seconds. And then he’s falling backwards through some sort of hidden trapdoor, shouting and cursing in surprise. Nick waits a second, and then follows suit. And Thomas really doesn’t like the idea of Nick being there alone with his boyfriend, so he’s going in right after. He can only hope the others are coming, too. 

The second Thomas is on his feet, he is getting in between Nick and Newt, whose argument is very quickly becoming physical. Minho is right behind him. Minho grabs Nick, holding him back and pinning his arms to his sides. Thomas opts to take a gentler approach, carefully taking Newt’s hands and wrapping his arms around the blond’s waist. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. We’re all here. We’re all on your side.”

Newt doesn’t fight him. He slumps back against Thomas’s chest, oddly quiet. That’s what told Thomas how much that last dig hurt. 

“Are you alright?” Thomas asks, even though he knows Newt won’t tell him the truth.

“’M fine,” Newt says, just as Thomas expected him to. 

“Alright,” Teresa calls out, getting everyone’s attention. “Where the hell are we?”

Right. They had all thoughtlessly jumped through a random false tree trunk. Were they stuck down here now? With Nick, of all people, who was supposed to be dead? This might be the worst ever game of capture the flag. 

“Daedalus’s Labyrinth, I think,” Teresa continues. “There’s an entrance in the woods somewhere, so that must be it. Only…”

“We’re shuckin’ screwed, if that’s where we are,” Minho finishes. 

Yeah. That sounded about right. Thomas hadn’t heard a whole lot about the Labyrinth, but from what he did know, it was not the place to be. 

“Is the trapdoor still open?” Alby asks, the first to react. 

It was. Thomas could see the light of the setting sun through the small crack. It was the only thing illuminating the dark, dingy corridor they now found themselves in. 
But was it just Thomas, or did that small crack seem to be getting even smaller? Was the gap closing, or was that just a trick of the light? No. It was closing. And if they didn’t act fast-

Thud. Well. That really sucked.

The doors close shut with a resounding slam, leaving them in complete and utter darkness. Well. If they thought they were screwed in the Labyrinth with the lights on, how were they supposed to find a way out with them off? They were going to be trapped in here forever.

“Uh oh,” Minho says.

“It’d be nice to have an Apollo kid right about now,” Alby ventures. “Does anyone have a flashlight?”

Thomas was fresh out of flashlights. Unfortunately, so was everybody else. So they were stuck in the dark, then. Well. Living had been fun while it lasted. Where was Newt? Maybe Thomas should kiss him one last time before admitting defeat.

“Hang on.” Newt’s voice rings out in the blackness. “I’ve got to have something somewhere…”

“Shuck,” Minho says. “You can brew something up, can’t you? Or could the Mist help?”

“The Mist won’t do anything if I can’t picture what the Labyrinth actually looks like,” Newt says. “But I reckon I could brew something. Just give me a minute.” Thomas hears the sound of glass breaking, followed by a string of accented curses. “Give me more than a minute, then.”

Thomas carefully crosses the hall, following the sounds of clinking glass. He waits until he hears Newt speak again before cautiously reaching out and reaching out one hand to rest on the blond’s waist. Newt freezes, going completely and entirely rigid.

“That better be Tommy,” Newt says slowly. “Because if it’s-”

“It’s Tommy,” Thomas assures him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Definitely not,” Newt tells him. “Quite frankly, love, there’s not much even I can do. I can’t bloody brew this thing if I can’t see what I’m doin’.”

“So we’re stuck in the dark,” Nick muses. “That’s just fantastic.”

“Maybe not,” Teresa speculates. “There are supposed to be lights in here. It’s just this bend where they’re out. If we can find our way somewhere illuminated, we can find our way out.”

That sounded like as good a plan as any, so Thomas was down. Nobody else offers any genius ideas, so they follow Teresa’s voice as she feels her way along the wall. Thomas learns from her and rests his free hand along the old, cracked stone that made up the wall. 

“You can let me go,” Newt murmurs.

“I’ll lose you if I do,” Thomas answers. “And you like me being close to you.”

“Sure, but-”

Thunk.

Okay, what the hell was that? Something cool and spherical brushes against his leg. That thing definitely hadn’t been there before. And why was it so-?

“Hot! What in the bloody hell is that!?”

Ah. So Newt had been touched by one, too. Thud. Another one of these metal balls hits the ground. They were dangerous. They had to be. Killer steel balls melting down from the ceiling. That was really just the icing on the cake, wasn’t it?

“Okay,” Minho says, likely having felt a ball of his own. “Everyone watch out for these things.”

“Yeah, these things will boil your face off,” Teresa agrees. Thomas nearly laughs. “I’m serious. I think they were developed by Hephaestus. Not demigod friendly.”

That was more than believable. They had to get out of the dark before these balls came and killed them all. They were on even more of a time crunch now than before. Regardless, Thomas’s hold on Newt tightens quite considerably. 

“You’re gonna break my ribs, holdin’ me like that,” Newt says. “C’mon, Tommy, we’ll be fine.”

“Seems like you’ve met your match,” Nick says unhelpfully. “A man that’s always got his hands on you. That craves your body just as much as you crave his-”

“Stop callin’ me a whore,” Newt snaps. “I didn’t cheat on you. I’m not a slut.”

Nick says nothing in response. Good. It’s about time he shut his mouth. Of course, miracles do not linger for very long.

“I didn’t really mean to call you a girl,” Nick says, a little less angry then before. “You were just the first guy I’d ever slept with. I didn’t know how to treat you differently.”

Newt is quiet for a time. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“I didn’t want you to know I was having such a hard time with it,” Nick admits. “I was supposed to know how to do everything. Guess I was just scared to mess up.”

Newt sighs. “I wish you’d communicated all that.”

“I don’t,” Minho says loudly, ruining the civil conversation. “You can’t come in here with your sincere apologies and expect us all to forgive you.”

Thomas didn’t really get it. If Newt wanted to forget and move on, why was everyone else refusing to? They weren’t the ones Nick had wronged. And sure, maybe Newt forgave too quickly, but if the both of them wanted to forgive and forget, Thomas didn’t see the problem. So maybe he was still missing some details.

“Will you tell us how you came back from the dead, now?” Newt asks.

“I never died,” Nick says. “I just never came back to Camp.”

“But Brenda said-”

“Brenda said what she thought was the truth,” Nick says, cutting Teresa off. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Teresa certainly didn’t want to leave it at that, and Thomas could tell. But it wasn’t out of interest. She just didn’t want Nick having anything to wave over their heads. She didn’t forgive Nick, either, then. Interesting. 

After several close calls and a broken toe, they emerged from the darkness. Dim torches illuminated the halls from here on out. And, most importantly, no steel balls decorated the ceiling, waiting to attack. 

At Minho’s suggestion, they decide to get some rest. Newt immediately goes to talk to Alby. Thomas does not take it personally. He needs to talk about Nick to someone who had all the pieces of the puzzles. Minho talks to -interrogates, more like- Nick. Thomas decides to speak with Teresa.

“So,” he says. “You still hate Nick, huh?”

Teresa groans. “I guess Newt hasn’t told you what Nick drove him to. With all the names and isolation.”

“…No, he hasn’t,” Thomas says. “What happened? Is it bad?”

“Very bad,” Teresa agrees. “He really didn’t tell you? It would be better for you to hear it from him.”

Thomas glances back at Newt, and then returns his gaze to Teresa. “I’d rather not trouble him any more. He’s going through enough right now.”

Teresa hesitates. She looks at Newt over Thomas’s shoulder, chewing on her bottom lip. “If I tell you, you can’t ask Newt about it. Not until he’s ready and brings it up himself. Deal?”

“Deal,” Thomas says quickly.

“He tried to kill himself, Tom,” Teresa says, keeping her voice down. “That’s how he broke his leg. Jumped off the roof of the Big House. Nick made him so miserable and feel so alienated  that he thought that was his only option.” She swallows thickly. “I can never forget that, so I’ll never forgive Nick. Never.”

Thomas’s heart drops. For a moment, he is so overwhelmed by dread that nothing else exists. Newt. His Newt. His Newt had attempted suicide, all because of what Nick had done. How could he possibly forgive Nick for something that had driven him that far?

His wonderful, sunshiney Newt had tried to kill himself.

“Newt…” Thomas’s voice trails off. “My Newt.”

“Your Newt,” Teresa echoes. “And it’s all Nick’s fault. I hope you see why the rest of us will never, ever forgive him.”

“Newt did,” Thomas says. 

“Newt doesn’t value himself half as much as he should,” Teresa says. “I think you might have known that already.”

He did. Of course he did. From the moment Thomas had first laid eyes on him, he’d known. He just didn’t realize how much Newt was really struggling. Should he say something? Or would that just make it worse? Newt never really liked to talk about his feelings.

“Jesus,” Thomas murmurs. “Wait, am I still allowed to say that? Or does it go against what we believe in?” Teresa shoots him a look. “Sorry. I just… What am I meant to do? How am I supposed to help him?”

“Honestly?” Teresa answers. “Just pretend you don’t know how depressed he is. Treat him like normal. You’re the only one who does, so that’s what he needs from you.”

Thomas sighs. “I just can’t do that. It feels wrong of me. Like I’m ignoring something that’s obviously capable of becoming a big problem.”

“I know,” Teresa says. “Just don’t bring it up, Tom. He loves you, and he trusts you. If he needs you, he’ll come to you. You just need to have enough faith in him to trust he’ll do that.”

Thomas nods slowly. Right. Just sit and hope Newt will come to him and ask for help. As if Newt’s ever asked him for help before. 

“I, uh, I need to talk to my boyfriend,” Thomas says. “I’ll catch you later, Resa.”

Thomas doesn’t really wait for Teresa’s response. He immediately rushes over to where Newt and Alby are sitting, dropping down beside his boyfriend and inviting himself into their conversation. 

“And everyone thinks he’s dead, anyway,” Alby concludes a theory Thomas hadn’t heard. “No one would miss him.”

Alby shoots Thomas a look and then gets up and heads off to help with Minho’s interrogation. So Alby still dislikes him. Okay, then. 

“What’s up?” Newt asks.

Thomas leans in, kissing the blond hard. Newt lets out a surprised squeak. And then he’s kissing back. Thomas kisses his way across the blond’s jaw and down his neck. Newt’s hands are on him in an instant, encouraging Thomas’s mouth as it trails kisses over every open inch of bare skin. 

“What are you doing?” Newt manages to ask. 

Thomas hesitates, mouth just a few centimeters away from Newt’s neck. “Just showing you how much I love you.”

“I know that already,” Newt presses.

“I thought you could use a reminder,” Thomas murmurs, kissing him again. “You’re so perfect, my love, and I’m always here if you need to talk.”

Newt’s brow furrows. “Teresa told you something, didn’t she?”

“…Maybe,” Thomas admits. “But it wasn’t anything I didn’t already suspect. It’s not like I’m trying to pity you, or anything, baby, I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. Always. And you can tell me anything. Whenever you’re at a low, just come talk to me. Okay?”

“…Okay,” Newt says quietly. 

Thomas opens his mouth to continue, but a horrible screeching sound echoes around the dark corridor. Minho looks at one end of the tunnel, the mechanisms turning louder.

"Let’s loiter later, and run now," he suggests. 

They start bolting in the opposite direction. It's hard in the tunnel, the Maze, really, but it's not so dark that Thomas can't see everyone. 

And he's not such a fan of how close Nick is to Newt, so he runs in between them, grabbing the blond's hand and squeezing tightly. Newt glances back at him, just briefly, and smiles his reassurance.
Thomas is not very reassured. Especially if they're going to be trapped in here for the foreseeable future.

They stop once the mechanical creaking sound fades away into nothingness. Into silence. How long had they been running for? A while, probably. Taking the odd twist or turn, luckily not running into any dead ends. Would they be able to find their way back? Did they want to?

Newt practically collapses against the wall, breathing heavily. Most people were in rough shape, but.. it wasn't a lack of fitness that drove this. It was a lack of oxygen. 

Hadn't Thomas learned that lesson from when Minho had punched him? He was binding way too tightly for it to be safe, and he couldn't breathe properly in the best of situations. 

Thomas takes a step closer, back to the others. He takes the blond in his arms, hooking two fingers under the front of his binder, creating just enough space of his lungs to actually expand.
Newt's practically pressed against his shoulder, clinging to him like a life line. Thomas doesn't move for a while, for what could be minutes but was probably only a few seconds. 

Way too long for his fingers to be that close to the blond's chest, anyway. Thomas feels his own chest tighten for a reason completely unrelated to breathlessness. And with every sharp inhale…

No. He can't think about that. Definitely not right now, with everyone watching them. That would be one hell of an awkward situation. 

Newt stays in his embrace, even after his breathing evens out. Thomas goes back to just hugging him, hoping that he'd be okay now. 

"Thanks, Tommy," he murmurs, still a little breathless. 

Thomas just smiles weakly, feeling a lot more relieved than he probably should have been. He'd feared for a moment that the blond would have ended up passing out. Which, obviously, wouldn't have been great. Especially with how little Thomas was trusting Nick currently. He didn't know how things would play out if Newt wasn't conscious. 

"Maybe you should loosen that a little," Thomas manages, kissing him on the cheek.

"Nice try."

Thomas turns back around to face the others, who seemed to be in various states of disarray. Teresa was shedding some of her battle armor, claiming it'd only weigh her down.

Nick was struggling to look away as her shirt rode up, which gained a smack from Minho and disapproving looks from Alby and Teresa.

"So, does anyone know what that thing was?" Thomas asks, breaking the silence. He'd like an answer from any of them, but he stares at Teresa, because he's certain she's most likely to have the answer.

Teresa looks at the darkness behind them. "I think they're called Grievers," she says hesitantly. "Hephaestus made them to catch Aphrodite and Ares, but they went rogue."

"It must have escaped from the gods' junkyard, then," Alby offers. Teresa nods pointedly, agreeing. 

"So we don't wanna get caught by that thing, then," Minho concludes. They all nod simultaneously.

Thomas sighs, taking a few steps closer to the rest of the group, Newt at his side. "Maybe we should keep moving, then. Look for another way out."

"The thing," Teresa says, "is that we're demigods. In Daedalus's Maze." Thomas stares at her, confused.

"It's virtually impossible for us to get out of here on our own," Newt offers. "It's designed to trap us. Get us confused."

Thomas nods slowly, disappointed. "That's great," he says sarcastically. "Absolutely fantastic."

"What if we blew a hole in the ceiling?" Minho offers.

"It'll bury us alive," Teresa says just as blankly. 

"Let's just take a leisurely stroll, then, and hope for the best," Thomas says brightly. Optimism. 

Teresa doesn't look convinced. But it's their only half-decent idea, so they roll with it.

So they walk. They walk, and walk, and things attack them, and they kill the things, and then they walk some more. It’s really not very inspiring. They’re going to be stuck down here forever. 

“Your leg’s not bothering you, is it?” Nick asks.

Thomas frowns, only because the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d been so worried about Newt’s unsafe binding that he hadn’t stopped to consider his bad leg. And stupid Nick had beat him to it. 

Now that Thomas was really looking for it, Newt’s limp was a whole lot more pronounced than usual. That wasn’t good. How hadn’t Thomas noticed it sooner? How had Nick beaten him to it?

“’M fine,” Newt says.

He definitely wasn’t. He needed to get off that leg before it gave out on him. Maybe Thomas should offer to do something to help. Then again, what could Thomas do right now? There was no way for them to take a break right now. 

“Do you want me to carry you?” Thomas asks. “I don’t mind, babe.”

Newt shoots him a look. He’s not going to go for that. Thomas knows it. But he needs to prove to Newt that he’s still his best option. Nick can’t upstage him. Maybe Nick and Newt had had their issues, but they still had several months of a relationship under their belt. Thomas and Newt had, like, two days. Not great odds.

“Do not carry me,” Newt says. “I already told you, ‘m fine, love.”

“Bullshit, blondie,” Nick says. “Decline one more time and I’m throwin’ you over my shoulder myself.”

So Thomas is not a fan of the nickname.

He needs to act quickly before Nick acts on his promise. So he hesitates only a second before lifting his boyfriend into his arms. 

Newt smacks his chest. “Thomas, you need to put me down right now.”

“I’m not letting you walk on that leg.” And he’s not going to let Nick beat him to a punch, either.

Newt whacks him one more time before giving up. Good. Thomas isn’t going to let him hurt himself. Or let Nick carry him. Newt was all Thomas’s. Not Nick’s. Not anymore.

“Hey, woah, I see a door!” Teresa exclaim. 

Just in time. 

"No way," Chuck says, crossing his arms.

Thomas frowns pointedly. "Way!" He presses. 

He's been explaining what happened the night prior to Chuck, who thinks he's bullshitting it all. Newt, who's snuggled up against Thomas's side, constantly confirms the story, but the kid still won't believe any of it. 

"Nick did not come back to life, and if he did, you did not punch him in the face," Chuck argues. "And even if you did, there's no way you're capable of breaking his nose."

Thomas just shrugs. "He kept hitting on Newt," he says simply. "I had to do something."

"Teresa will confirm this story, if I ask her?" Chuck offers, waiting for the non-existent facade to splinter.

Thomas nods. "Absolutely," he says. "Except for the part where we found a dragon. That I made up to keep you engaged."