Katherine’s head rests against Newt’s bare chest, her fingers lazily tracing the scars and freckles scattered across his skin. His arms cage her in, one hand splayed across her lower back, the other moving absentmindedly in soft, circular motions over her spine. Their bodies remain tangled beneath the sheets, the warmth between them refusing to dissipate. A sleepy grin plays on Katherine’s lips as she shifts, pressing herself even closer to him.

“You tired?” Newt murmurs, his voice low and husky, lips brushing the top of her head.

“Not much.” She tilts her head up to meet his gaze, her grin turning mischievous. “Another round?”

Newt huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re one crazy shank.”

“I know.” She smirks, tracing the edge of his jaw with her fingertip, her touch feather-light.

Newt watches her with something between awe and amusement, his brown eyes softened by the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls. “And the most beautiful girl in this whole world.”

Katherine snorts, playfully patting his cheek. “You’re rambling now.”

“I’m not rambling.” He pouts, a rare sight, but one that makes her chest tighten in affection.

“Yes, you are.” She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself on top of him with effortless ease. His hands slide instinctively to her waist, fingers pressing into the skin as if to ground himself in her presence.

A sudden knock on the door shatters their moment, followed by Frypan’s booming voice. “Guys, they’re back with Teresa!”

Katherine groans, burying her face into the crook of Newt’s neck. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Me neither.” Newt exhales, his grip tightening around her.

“Five more minutes?” She presses a teasing kiss to his neck, feeling the way he shudders beneath her touch.

Newt exhales sharply. “We’re gonna be late.” His fingers brush a stray lock of hair from her face, as if memorizing every inch of her before they have to leave.

“I don’t care.” Katherine straddles him fully, lips hovering over his as she leans in for another kiss, slow and deep. Newt doesn’t hesitate, hands sliding up her back, pulling her impossibly closer.

“And you look bloody great on top of me,” he murmurs against her lips, smirking as she hums in response.

They lose themselves in the kiss, wrapped up in each other, completely oblivious to the sound of the doorknob turning.

“Kat, have you seen my—”

A high-pitched, horrified scream erupts through the room before the door slams shut with a loud thud.

Silence.

Then, from the other side of the door, a string of very colorful curses spill from Thomas’s mouth before his footsteps storm down the hallway.

Newt chuckles, resting his forehead against Katherine’s. “We forgot to lock the door.”

“We did.” Katherine nods, biting her lip before the both of them dissolve into laughter, their bodies shaking against each other.

By the time they finally step out of their room, their hands remain intertwined. Katherine’s hair is still tousled, and Newt wears a small, satisfied smirk that doesn’t go unnoticed. Brenda leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, smirking at them.

“Had fun?” she teases, raising an eyebrow.

Katherine winks in response, while Newt just grins.

Halfway to the meeting room, Thomas is already waiting for them, arms crossed, an expression of pure disgust plastered on his face.

“First of all, you two are disgusting,” he announces, his nose scrunching in exaggerated repulsion. “And I will do anything to get that image out of my head.”

Katherine only sticks her tongue out at him playfully. “Prude.”

“Whatever.” Thomas scoffs, rolling his eyes as he leads the way inside.

The room is tense when they step in. Gally grips Teresa’s arm tightly as he shoves her into a chair, yanking a bag off her head. The second it’s removed, her wide eyes dart around, taking in every pair of hostile glares locked onto her. When her gaze finally lands on Gally, she looks utterly confused.

“Gally?” she breathes.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he drags a chair forward, placing it directly in front of her before sitting down. “Here’s how this is gonna go,” he says, voice unnervingly calm. “We’re gonna ask you some questions, and you’re gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. We’ll start off simple. Where’s Minho?”

Teresa shifts uncomfortably, flicking a glance toward Thomas, her eyes pleading. He doesn’t move. Gally slams his chair closer, blocking her line of sight entirely. “Don’t look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He’s not gonna help you. Now, we know you have Minho in the building. Where?”

A beat of silence. Then, barely above a whisper, she mutters, “He’s with the others in holding. Sublevel three.”

“How many others?” Newt’s voice is sharp, his usual warmth stripped away.

Teresa hesitates, her throat bobbing as she swallows. “Twenty-eight.”

Gally glances at Brenda, who sits beside Jorge, absently twirling a playing card between her fingers before setting it back down.

“I can make that work,” she mutters.

“No. No, you guys don’t understand.” Teresa leans forward, urgency creeping into her voice. “The whole level’s restricted. You can’t get in without a thumbprint ID.”

Thomas exhales slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s why you’re gonna come with us.”

Gally scoffs, pushing himself to his feet and striding toward the table. He picks up a scalpel, twirling it between his fingers. “I don’t know. We don’t necessarily need her. Right?” His gaze flickers to Teresa. “Not all of her. We just need her finger.”

“Gally, back off.” Thomas’s tone is blank, but there’s an underlying edge to it.

Gally tilts his head, unimpressed. “What, are you squeamish? I guarantee you she’s done a lot worse to Minho.”

“I like the plan.” Katherine’s voice is cold as she leans back into Newt’s warmth, eyes glinting with something dark. “She deserves it.”

“That’s not the plan,” Thomas snaps, snatching the scalpel from Gally’s hand. “Back off.”

Teresa exhales shakily. “It won’t make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won’t get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up the—”

“We know.” Thomas cuts her off, crouching in front of her, pressing the scalpel into her hand. “We’re tagged. Property of WICKED.”

Teresa’s fingers curl around the blade as her shoulders tense. She already knows what comes next.

She’s going to help them. One way or another.

Teresa’s lips press into a thin line as she glances at the others. One by one, they watch her warily, a mix of anger and unease clouding the air. She takes a shaky breath before nodding.

"Try to relax," she murmurs as Katherine sinks onto the chair, brushing her long hair aside. "This is gonna sting."

"Just get it over with," Katherine sighs, fingers twitching in her lap as she tries to ignore the cold press of the blade against her skin. A sharp pinch, then a deeper sting follows as Teresa makes the incision, her hands surprisingly steady. Katherine clenches her jaw, inhaling sharply.

Across the room, Gally grumbles, rubbing his neck where Teresa just removed his tag. "Pretty sure she enjoyed that a little too much."

"No complaints," Frypan adds, wincing. "Except, next time, maybe warn a guy before you start slicing."

Katherine huffs a quiet laugh as she watches them, momentarily distracted from the burn at the back of her own neck. Thomas, standing nearby, dabs at his own wound with a tissue, his entire posture tense as he deliberately avoids looking at Teresa.

"You and Newt seem to have a healthy relationship," Teresa says, attempting small talk as she continues working. "You're literally glowing."

Katherine gives her a blank stare. "Thank you?"

"How’s Thomas reacting to it?" Teresa presses, voice hesitant, as if she’s unsure she even has the right to ask.

Katherine doesn’t hesitate. "He’s happy for me. Even if he acts like a jerk every time he sees us together, I know there’s a part of him that wishes it was him and you instead." Her voice drops, turning cold. "You didn’t just betray us, Teresa. You broke my brother's heart. I’ll never forgive you for that."

Teresa flinches, but before she can say anything, Katherine hisses as another wave of pain sears through her neck. She clenches her fists, forcing herself to stay still. "How’s Vera?" she asks, changing the subject.

"She’s fine," Teresa replies softly. "She’s been by Minho’s side, taking care of him."

"Yeah, I heard." Katherine smiles, gaze flickering toward Jorge and Brenda, who are embracing on the other side of the room.

"She's looking good. Healthy. How've you been getting her serum?" Teresa asks, her eyes set on Brenda.

"What are you talking about?" Katherine asks, confusion mirroring her eyes as Thomas arrives to them with a raised eyebrow.

Teresa hesitates. "Brenda. I didn’t think she’d still be alive. When was her last treatment?"

Katherine frowns. "At the Right Arm. Right before you betrayed us."

Teresa’s brows draw together in concern as she yanks the tracker out of Katherine’s neck. "That was months ago. That’s not possible. She should have turned by now. There’s no way—"

Katherine shoves her chair back with a screech, standing abruptly. She snatches the bloody tissue from Thomas’s hands and wipes her own neck, tossing it onto the table with a sharp exhale. "Oh, shut up, Teresa. You can try to manipulate my mind, but it’s not working."

Teresa turns to Thomas, desperation creeping into her voice. "Thomas."

"I don’t have time for this," Thomas mutters, shaking his head.

"You don’t even believe me?" Teresa asks, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"Do you really expect me to?" Thomas’s voice is hard as stone. "You made your choice."

Katherine doesn’t wait for Teresa’s response. She moves toward Newt, exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders. She doesn’t want to talk. Doesn’t want to hear Teresa’s excuses. Instead, she reaches for Newt’s WICKED uniform, helping him adjust the collar with a small smirk. "How come you look good in this, too?"

Newt flashes a grin, leaning in slightly. "You tell me."

"Charming bastard." Katherine rolls her eyes, but her teasing tone falters when his lips brush against hers.

For a moment, the world melts away. The exhaustion. The anger. The fear. It all disappears into the warmth of Newt’s lips, the press of his body against hers. Her fingers slip into his blond hair, tugging just enough to make him let out a low grunt. He pulls her closer, erasing any space between them, and neither of them needs words. The kiss says everything—love, desperation, a promise neither of them wants to break.

Newt’s hand slides up to the back of her head, deepening the kiss, holding onto her like she’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart. And maybe she is. Maybe they’re both holding each other together in this mess of a world.

When they finally pull apart, Newt searches her face, memorizing every detail. "You can’t blame me," he murmurs, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "I’m just trying to enjoy my last few moments of us."

Katherine’s heart clenches, but she forces a small smile. "I can assure you, this is not the last moment of us. There’s going to be more. So many more."

Newt tilts his head, studying her. "Do you have any idea why I fell in love with you?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Because I’m amazing?"

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You’re independent. Strong. Free. A fighter. Reckless as hell. But most of all, you’re the only one who can fix me." His voice drops, filled with raw honesty. "I might be the glue holding everyone together, but you... you’re my glue. You’re my cure. And us? It’s the best thing I’ve ever had."

Katherine swallows, gripping his hand. "Then don’t give up on us. Promise me you’ll fight. If you feel like you’re losing it, talk to me. You have to keep it together until we get the cure, okay? Fight it. If not for yourself, then for me."

Newt hesitates, the shadows in his eyes flickering with doubt. But then he exhales and nods. "I promise."

"Not good enough. Say it again."

Newt gives her a small, tired smile. "I promise."

She squeezes his hand, holding onto him like a lifeline. "Good."