A Battle With Hope (Newtmas)

Chapter 10

Newt listened intently, never once butting in while Thomas and Minho recounted their night in the maze, from the moment the maze doors closed until the moment they opened. Once the Gladers had finished telling their story, they sat back and looked expectantly at Newt. Newt ran his hands through his floppy, blonde hair, staring back at his two friends, shock recognisable is his large brown eyes.
'So you're telling me, the only reason you shanks made it out of the maze is because of this Greenie who has been here all of 24 hours?'
Thomas smiled sheepishly, while Minho nodded his head vigorously. 'I'm telling you Newt, Thomas, he was amazing out there. I've never seen anything like it. Those grievers were coming for us and I turned and ran like a little girl. Thomas stood there and took them on.' Minho exclaimed in awe. 'He not only saved mine and Alby's lives, but he's the only one of us ever to kill a Griever. Ever. That's worth something Newt.'

Newt sat, looking thoughtfully between Thomas and Minho.
'You're right. Thomas, I'll be forever grateful for you saving these two shanks lives.' He said, nodding towards Minho and hooking is thumb over his shoulder towards Alby's room.
Minho and Thomas exchanged smiles, Minho clapping Thomas on the back.
'However.' Newt continued, holding a hand up to stop the boys celebration. 'Tommy, man. You broke the number one rule of the Glade- you don't leave unless you're a bloody runner and in case you forgot, you aren't.'
'Yeah but-' Minho tried to reason. Newt cut him off. 'But nothing. I'm going to call a meeting tonight and we'll decide what to do. Minho, you'll tell everyone what happened and how Thomas saved your life, and hopefully we can decide on a reasonable punishment.'
Minho tried to argue, but this time it was Thomas who cut him off. 'Minho relax. I broke the rules. I'll deal with the punishment. But I have one condition.'
Newt had to laugh at Thomas' nerve. 'Tommy I don't think you're in any position to be making conditions'
'Just hear me out Newt. I want to be a runner.'
Minho cheered, clapping Thomas on the back and Newt raised his eyebrows in surprise.
'We could use a shank like him in our crew' Minho said, nodding his head in Thomas' direction. Newt looked into Minho's dark eyes, his eyes full of sincerity.

'Look. I'll raise it at the meeting, but I don't think it's a good idea. It's dangerous out there and we don't need to risk anyone else's lives.'
Minho scoffed and a look of disappointment flashed across Thomas' face.
'Alright shuck-faces, you get some sleep and be ready for the meeting tonight. I've got to get to work.'
Newt gave the boys a stern look and turned to leave the room. Once he was almost at the doorway, Newt heard a scuffle and then a whisper. 'Don't worry shank, you'll be a runner, Newt can't resist my beautiful eyes and charming smile.' Newt scowled when he heard Thomas chuckle softly in response to Minho's ridiculous retort.

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Newt spent the rest of the day out in the gardens. He was tense and slightly frustrated after his talk with his friends this morning. While he was glad to see they were okay, and awed to hear what Thomas had done, he was furious at the thought that Thomas wanted to go into the maze again. He channelled his anger into his working, chopping wood for the nightly bonfires. Furiously slamming the axe down on tree branch after tree branch, Newt's mind was filled with thoughts of Thomas' revelation. A runner. The thought was buggin' ridiculous.

The more he chopped, the more Newt felt his anger slipping away. He jumped when he heard someone speak from behind him. 'It's not a griever Newt, just a piece of wood, no need to attack it like a madman'. Newt swung around at the sound of Thomas' laugh. 'Jesus Tommy, you almost gave me a bloody heart attack!' Newt exclaimed. Thomas shrugged, a broad smile stretched across his face. 'So, are you going to put that down?' Thomas asked apprehensively looking down at the sharp axe resting in Newt's hands. Newt laughed and placed the axe at his feet, pulling up his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. As he lowered his shirt back down over his stomach, he caught Thomas' eye. Thomas quickly averted his gaze and flushed a furious shade of red, clearly embarrassed at having been caught staring at Newt's lean, but toned stomach. Newt's own cheeks turned a soft shade of pink at the thought of Thomas' eyes running over his torso. 'It's nothing' he told himself. 'He was probably just looking at your scar, and even if he wasn't, why would you care?'

'It's a beast isn't it?' Newt asked, lifting his shirt once again and running a finger along the long, thin scar on his stomach.
Thomas stepped closer and extended his arm to touch Newt, but dropped it quickly, as if rethinking his actions.
'What happened?' Thomas asked softly.
'Griever' Newt replied indifferently, shrugging his shoulders and dropping his shirt. 'I was lucky I wasn't stung, but I got a good swipe. I was out of actions for days. George wasn't so lucky...' Newt tried as hard as he could to keep emotions from flooding his face. Thomas didn't need to know just how many people Newt had seen killed. Thomas nodded sadly, as if understanding Newt didn't want to talk about it and wisely decided to change the subject... Even if the new subject also turned out to be something Newt didn't want to talk about.
'Look Newt, I need you to hear me out.' Thomas pleaded. Newt studied Thomas' serious expression, wondering what he was talking about. 'I know you don't want to hear it, but this is it. I need you to back me at the meeting tonight. You said that you were going to announce that Minho wants to train me as a runner, but Minho and I have been talking and we know people aren't going to be happy. We need you to help us convince them.'

Newt shrugged his shoulders, annoyed once again. 'Tommy. I said I'd do what I said I'd do. I'm not making any promises. Not to you and not to Minho.' Newt had expected Thomas to back off, after all, Newt's word was one of the most respected in the Glade... but then again, Thomas hadn't been in the Glade for long. Thomas took a step closer to Newt as Newt held his breath, waiting to hear Thomas' wrath, but it never came. Before Newt knew what was happening, Thomas had ducked forward and pressed his lips firmly to Newt's. All of Newt's rational thoughts flew out the window, and his body took over. Newt's hand's wound their way into Thomas' dark, soft hair and Thomas tightened his grip on Newt's waist as their lips melded together, quick and fierce with only an intensity two teenage boys could manage.

It was over as suddenly as it had started, leaving both of the boys standing close, lips parted. 'Sorry' Thomas whispered, still standing so close that Newt could feel Thomas' breath on his cheek. Newt didn't, couldn't, respond. So he did the only thing he could do... the only thing someone who had just kissed a boy for the first time in their life could do... he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Eventually, Thomas got over his shock and laughed along too. Both only calmed once they heard the other Glader's begin to make their way to the fire for dinner. Newt nudged Thomas softly, breaking the silence. 'Hungry?' He asked, blatantly avoiding any talk of what had happened just moments before. Thomas smiled gratefully, clearly thankful he hadn't been punched in the face for making a move on one of the most respected Gladers in this strange little community. 'Yeah, I am'. Without another word, both boys turned and began to walk towards the chatter of the rest of the group, arms bumping casually as they walked side by side and a slight note of tension hanging in the air.