Newt found him in the depths of the forest, still sweaty, lying under a tree. His head was slightly tilted to the right, resting on his shoulder, and the muscles of his face, which were usually contracted in tension, fear or concentration, appeared completely relaxed now, confering him an innocent and calmed expression.
He couldn't help smiling. Biting the side of his lower lip, he bent besides Thomas, and carefully pushed some strands of dark hair away, caressing the boy's forehead with pale fingertips as he moved his hand. His cheeks were slightly puffed; Newt guessed that he had run into the Maze. Taking into account his fixation with the hell that surrounded the Glade, it was more than probable.
Sighing, he was about to shake Thomas awake when he thought about it twice. He had gone through many things during the last days; and if it had already been harsh for Newt himself, he couldn't imagine how it must be being a Greenie and not knowing a thing about his new home. Thomas was truly strong to endure what he was enduring, and Newt admired him for it.
Admiration... Was it what he felt? Yes, at least partly. But there was something else going on. Something more... Intense. Something that was waking up inside of him, and that he was afraid of letting go. Something that promised to be wonderful, but that could destroy his already fragile existence in the Glade.
He shook his head, and bent down in front of Thomas, his back facing the sleeping boy. He threw his arms over his shoulders; his dark-haired head fell over his right clavicle immediately. Snorting, Newt passed his own arms under Thomas' legs, and gritted his teeth as he lifted him. Jumping slightly, he made sure that Thomas' weight was well distributed so as not to hurt his back, and he began walking towards the Homestead.
Thomas breathed lightly and steadily, and Newt could feel his warm breath on his ear and cheek as the boy inhaled and exhaled. It made it even harder to erase the smile from his face; it enlarged it instead. Even though he had denied it to death in the Gathering, he was getting used to being like that with Thomas. Sharing their things, helping each other out, having visions. Occasionally hugging. Not that he would ever admit it, but he actually enjoyed the Greenie's presence.
When they reached the Homestead, Newt had to make an extra effort to tiptoe between the sleeping Gladers, who were spread everywhere. You knever knew how many of them there were until you tried to traverse their sleeping zone. He finally managed to find Thomas' hammock and sat on it, allowing himself to rest for a moment before carefully letting Thomas' body slip backwards. He cupped his hands around his cheeks, and placed his head over the upper part of the hammock.
He waited another second before standing up, just looking at the boy's face, which emmited a pale gleam under the moonlight. He could've stared at him for ages, and wouldn't have ever felt any urge to do another thing; but he had to sleep well. His boys had finally found Gally in the forest, and he would have to judge him the next day. It wasn't going to be an easy journey.
"Hey! Morning, Newt," Minho greeted him, patting his shoulder. "Got some work, right?"
"Yep," Newt answered, groggily rubbing his eyes. "The Gally slinthead was in the forest. Gotta judge him today."
The Keeper of the Runners shook his head. "I don't know why you're that tolerant with him. I would've kicked his ass outta here after what he said in the Gathering."
Shrugging, Newt looked away. The sun shyly peered over the walls of the Maze, bathing the Glade in a golden light. Seeing it dyed in orange and yellow tones, no one would've said that the Glade was such a dangerous and desperating place. "I know. But I can't do that —the shuck-face has some allies."
Minho frowned. "Who cares? Let him try to befriend the Grievers —let's see if he can." Despite his dark mood, Newt smiled, shaking his head.
"Sounds good. Good luck today, shank."
The Runner let out a bitter laugh. "As if that ever worked."
Newt watched him as he ran into the Maze and disappeared. After, he turned and didn't look back.
"All I want is one normal day —one day to relax," Thomas was telling Chuck. Frypan's breakfast had already been eaten up when Newt entered the place, and everyone was carrying their plates to the counter.
The Glade's second-in-command smiled. "Then your bloody wish is granted," he said. When Thomas turned and saw his smile, Newt could've sworn that his face lit up. The boy's own grin made Newt feel like the world was okay again. "Come on, ya buggin' jailbird," he said. "You can take it easy while you're hangin' in the Slammer. Let's go. Chucky'll bring ya some lunch at noon."
Thomas nodded, as if he had just thought of that. "Suddenly, that sounds like paradise."
"So, Gally. Hiding at Deadheads is dishonourable enough to kick your ass out of here, but the reasons behind that are even more hideous." Newt slowly walked in circles in the Gathering room, under the alert eyes of Zart, Frypan and Winston. Gally, sat on a wooden chair, clenched his fists as he listened to what the boy was saying. "You've threatened to kill another Glader and Keeper, Minho. You've harassed another Glader for reasons that aren't legit at all, nor any of your business. You've behaved like a lunatic, and endangered us all with your attitude. Give me a bloody reason why I shouldn't Banish you right away."
Gally pressed his lips together before answering. "I hid because everyone wanted my head. When I threatened Minho, we were all very pissed, and my words were obviously fueled by anger, just like everyone else's. I didn't harass anyone, either. I just pointed out evident facts—"
Newt punched a wall, enraged. He was sick of Gally's flattery. "Quit the polite façade, Gally! It's no mystery why you menaced Minho, as you two've always been like two roosters in a henhouse. But you insulted Thomas basin' your nasty opinion in a matter that's none of your business —and one you know nothin' about."
The Keeper stood up, his face bright red. "You know as well as I do that he's drooling over you, Newt! But you like the attention, don't you? You like having someone paying attention to you, huh?"
"Gally..." Frypan stepped towards the boy, raising his arms as a warning. "I think you'd better shut up."
"I won't lose my home because of this... Aberrant thing!" Gally screamed. "Listen, guys, I've seen the Thomas guy before, during the Changing, and he's not what you think. He's not the hero you all wish for, not by far. He's with them!"
Newt lost it.
He quickly approached Gally, and grabbed him by the neck of his dirty T-shirt. Riveting his eyes, he spoke in a quiet voice, making sure that the other boy heard each of his words. "Your stupid hatred," he spitted, "is the only aberrant thing 'ere. Thomas is just as amnesiac as we all were, and is the only one who's still hopeful enough to try to get our asses out of this bloody Maze you call home. I don't give a klunk about his past —just as I don't give a klunk about yours, Minho's or Alby's. I care about the present —and, right now, he's far better than you are."
Letting go of him, Newt crossed the room and sat, trying to calm down. He felt a hand over his shoulder, followed by Frypan's distinctive sigh.
"I say we dissolve this mock Gathering until we're all Keepers here," the cook carefully said. "We'll make the decision then, through fair voting."
Winston and Zart looked at each other before nodding. "Fair enough."
Newt snorted, seeing red. They were right. He couldn't just kick Gally out of the Glade, though he would've loved to. It was against the Rules. It would make chaos run wild.
"Alright. But I want him surveilled twenty-four seven."
With another sigh, Frypan nodded. "I'll take good care of him."
Unhappy with the result of the session, Newt harshly nodded, grunting. He had thought that it was impossible to hate Gally even more than he did before Thomas' arrival, but he had been wrong. His previous hate had been nothing but a mere candlelight compared to the bonfire that burned inside of him now.
"Havin' fun, Greenie?" he asked.
"Well. At least it's quiet here," Thomas answered, shrugging. Newt grinned with a crooked smile, looking away.
"Don't ya worry. 'Ts almost over, and then you'll be a super Runner. Just as you wished."
Thomas smiled as well. "I'm dying to! How did the day go?"
Well, I got in a terrible row with Gally, I found out that our strawberries are all dry and I spent all day tryin' to figure out why you make me grin so much and make me feel like there's a thousand fireworks in my stomach. What 'bout yours?
"It wasn't bad," he said instead. "Though it pales in comparison with a journey down there, obviously."
When the boy laughed, he thought his heart had skipped a beat. "Please. You envy me right now. You wish you could be down here."
I do, Newt thought, but not in the way you think.
Never in the way people think.
That same night, Newt couldn't quite sleep. His mind wouldn't stop thinking of what Gally had said. Not because they infuriated him, but... "You know as well as I do that he's drooling over you, Newt! But you like the attention, don't you? You like having someone paying attention to you, huh?"
Was that true? Did he just talk to Thomas and defend him because the boy was on his side? No. The answer was firm and clear. It wasn't that interested... But... He did like having Thomas paying attention to him. He liked seeing him smile and hearing his laughter. He enjoyed his quirky sense of humour, and the way he always thought about everything. He adored the slight frown in his forehead when he was concentrating, and the light in his eyes when he was happy or excited. He was head over heels about Thomas' open mind and attitude, his interest, his determination.
He tossed and turned on his bed, suddenly uncomfortable.
Thomas wasn't the only one drooling over someone.
Everyone's in love now! (Except for Gally —he doesn't have the slightest drop of love inside of him) Our lovebirds now have to get together —will they? Won't they? What'll happen? Soon here, in NV... Or maybe not! :)