Night Visions (TMR) (Newtmas)

17

When Newt finally calmed down, he smiled shyly at Thomas. "Seems like ya gonna bug me around whether I want it or not, isn't it?"

Thomas nodded. "Of course I will. I've told you. You have to be strong for all these shanks, I get it. Go ahead. But we sometimes need some time to ourselves —some time to be weak, too. I am your time to be weak. Just don't make me repeat it over and over. Go ahead and let it go whenever you have to."

Newt opened his eyes wide, shocked for a moment. Having always been kind of the leader, he wasn't at home with being talked to in such way. His bossiest part felt like scolding the Greenie for talking to him that way, but that urge was quickly overpassed by the one to compensate Thomas for his support. "Hungry, Tommy? I am, ya shank. Let's go look for some leftovers from lunch."

They made their way to the kitchen talking and joking. None of them mentioned Alby nor Newt's breakdown, and they both carefully avoided anything that could lead back to those topics. Instead, Newt told Thomas a bit more about the Gatherings.

"They're not always that chaothic," he said. "Well, okay, they are. Though shanks don't usually get that violent. You did startle them, Tommy."

That should've been the third banned topic.

Thomas coughed, feeling unexpectedly violent. It was as if someone had caught him spying on the girls' dressing room or stealing a chocolate bar from the supermarket. Wait. What's a supermarket? Dressing rooms? How did I come up with those metaphors? His heart saddened for a moment when he didn't recall anything, but then he remembered the Gathering they were talking about. Shame took over everything else.

"Urm, yeah. I just —it wasn't fair! I was sitting there, listening to their klunk, and they wouldn't let me talk. And they were talking about me! I just had to say something. And then they went down with that love thing —I couldn't take it anymore. I hate it when people talk klunk without knowing."

Newt opened his mouth, but he didn't say anything. He closed it a few seconds after, and passed an arm over Thomas' shoulders. He wasn't all colleague-y, though. Thomas gave him a sideways look. His expression had saddened beyond humanly possible. It was as if he had been told that all Gladers had been killed by the Grievers while he was telling Gally off.

"I know," he muttered after a while. Thomas hadn't expected any word from him, and so he winked, surprised. "I know."

He didn't say anything else.

Despite Frypan's grumbling, they got cheese sandwiches and raw vegetables. Thomas couldn't help noticing the Keeper's behaviour, staring at him but quickly looking away when Thomas returned the stare. This'll be the norm from now on, he thought. His gut told him.

That, added to Newt's silence, was one of the strongest reasons why they agreed on eating outside, at the west wall, far from stares. Even though his partner and Frypan's attitudes had taken all apetite away, Thomas forced himself to eat. The sandwich was pretty small, yet it seemed to be endless.

"Never seen any Changed shank try to tell us what they remembered. They always refused. I think that's why Alby went nuts and tried to kill himself." Newt bit a carrot, staring at nowhere. His face was somber now. "We have to find Gally. Bugger gone off and hid somewhere. I need to throw his butt in jail —as soon as we're done eating, you're helping me."

"Serious?" Thomas cheered up a bit. Newt wasn't angry with him, then. He shook his head. Focus!, he scolded himself. Quit being such a drama king over every single mood of his. He thought of Gally being put in the Slammer, and felt elation spread through his body. He was more than willing to slam the door closed and throw the key into the Maze himself.