A Battle With Hope (Newtmas)

Chapter 11

Dinner felt as though things were settling back to normal in the Glade. Well, as normal as things can be with their leader on his death bed. There was a constant chatter around the fire and Newt was more than happy to be sitting by Thomas, their arms brushing against each other every so often. He couldn't help but notice his heart pounding harder than usual in his chest and the blood that rushed through his ears. While Newt felt content to be sitting there by Thomas, one thing was for sure, he was confused about what had happened earlier today, oh boy was he confused. The kiss had been nice. More than nice actually, but Newt couldn't remember whether he'd ever kissed anyone, so maybe that's just what kissing felt like with both boys and girls. He furrowed his brow. For a moment he considering asking Minho for some advice but he could almost laugh at the absurdity of that idea. Minho would laugh until the cows came home and then laugh some more.

Newt shook his head, resolving to think about it later, once Thomas' fate was decided by the group leaders and there was a little less to worry about. Newt wasn't too worried. While some keepers were harder than others and this Glade was run by all of them, currently Newt had the most influence and he was sure he'd be able to sway the group one way or another.

Once the Glader's had almost finished eating, Newt leaned into Thomas, briefly enjoying the sturdiness of Thomas' lean upper body, before lowering his voice. 'These meetings...They can get a bit out of hand. Everyone has an opinion, so you need to keep your cool and only speak when spoken to. Okay Tommy?' Thomas nodded curtly, as Newt stood up and began to head to a small makeshift structure towards the Deadheads. Thomas stood up to follow him, and he noticed, so did several other Gladers, Minho included.

Newt entered the shack and waited for the keepers to take their seats around him. Thomas stood beside him quietly, more subdued than Newt had ever seen him. Newt was unable to resist giving him a quick wink and leaned back against the tall table covered in scraps of paper at the front of the room. The last to amble into the dark, wooden room was Gally and Newt set his gaze on him, trying to determine how this was going to go. Newt got an indicator of Gally's mood pretty quickly, as he reached the last chair and threw himself down on it with a loud thud, making the Gladers on each side of him wince. Newt shook his head slightly before calling the Gladers to attention.

Newt quickly explained the task at hand, determining an appropriate punishment for Thomas, and then called Minho up to the front of the room to recount his night in the maze. Newt silently praised Minho for his enthusiasm and awe of Thomas, emphasising Thomas' role in their survival. This was exactly what the keepers needed to hear right before they decided on Thomas' punishment. Just as Minho reached the end of his story, the moment the Glade doors re-opened, he was interrupted by Gally's booming voice. Newt scoffed as everyone in the room turned to Gally. 'Yeah that's all very well and good Minho,' he spat with enough venom to fill a griever, 'but how do we know you're telling the truth? And even if you are, it doesn't change anything, this shank,' he pointed roughly at Thomas, 'disrespected OUR rules. He took it upon himself to decide what he could and couldn't do. That is not on. We've never stood for it before and we won't stand for it now.' Gally finished his rant, abruptly crossing his arms. His outburst was followed by a soft murmur of agreement by the surrounding keepers.
'I didn't disrespect anything!' Thomas protested angrily, before Newt caught his eye and shook his head. 'Do not speak unless spoken to Tommy.' Newt murmured quietly out of the side of his mouth, only loud enough for Thomas to hear. Thomas nodded curtly, a stoic expression crossing his face, replacing the look of fury Newt had just caught a glimpse of.

Newt fixed his own cold stare on Gally and looked down at him. 'It's one thing to question a Greenie, but questioning a fellow Glader?' he asked coldly. Gally didn't respond, merely shifting in his seat. Newt shook his head annoyed, before turning to address the rest of the keepers.
'The question isn't whether or not it happened,' he spoke, loudly and clearly, the air of authority leaving no doubt amongst the Gladers as to who was in charge. 'It's about what we're going to do about it.' Another quiet murmur went through the room as Newt stood defiantly, broad shoulders squared and eyebrow cocked.

Frypan, the Glade's cook, stood up, nodding his chin in Thomas' direction. 'I don't think he should be punished to be honest. He saved Alby's life. He killed a Griever and he didn't even think twice about running into that maze. We need people like him.' Frypan's comment was not met with much enthusiasm. As Frypan sat down, Winston stood up. 'That's just ridiculous. Of course he should be punished and in case you're forgetting, he didn't save Alby's life. Alby is lying half dead and completely delirious in the homestead right now.' The Glader's on either side of Winston nodded and Gally made a sound of agreement from the back of the room. Newt held up his hand, silencing the group. 'Okay Shanks, we could go on all night like this, so how about we take a vote; if majority agrees to punish Thomas, he spends one night in the Slammer and if majority says he shouldn't be punished, then we don't punish him?' Gally stood up furious and ready to protest before the Glader beside him placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Gally's brow furrowed, before smoothing and a nasty smile crossed his face. He sat back down, without another word and Newt's stomach churned. That was not good.
'All those for punishing Thomas?' Newt asked, surveying the hands that went up around the room. He turned around and gave a small smile to Thomas and Minho. 'Sorry Tommy,' he said. 'Looks like it's unanimous.' Thomas shrugged his shoulders and Newt directed two of the keepers to lead Thomas away to the Slammer.

Once he was gone, Newt turned to the remaining keepers. His face hardened into a fierce expression, gone his usual cheeky smile. 'Thomas is going to be a runner. He spends one night in the slammer and then he goes out with Minho.' As Newt expected, there was almost an instant uproar. Newt ignored them, turning his back and padding out of the room, Minho stomping along behind him.

They walked to the middle of the Glade together, before Minho broke off and headed towards the gardens, where it had become almost a ritual for he and Newt to find a soft patch of grass and settle in for the night under the stars. Newt did not follow him, heading for the homestead. He surprised even himself when he stopped just outside the slammer. He sat down and crossed his long legs, looking down into the cage.