017.

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.*・。. FLARES! .*・。.
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017.
THE HEIGHT OF
DECISIONS.

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   Shortly after Kennedy had left the council house, and Minho had whisked Thomas away to the map room, Newt had tracked down his female counterpart to let her know that she had made a good decision.

Whether it was the right one, or not, only time would tell. But Newt supported her in it, and that was all Kennedy ever wanted.

If Newt was alright with her choice to make Thomas a runner — which had been very reckless of her, and impulsive — then she couldn't have made too much of a mistake. Since Minho had been the one to suggest it at Thomas' council meeting, she hadn't been able to rid it from her mind. Kennedy had heard his words loud and clear, and she trusted Minho. He had seen how Thomas was when they were stuck in that maze, for a night.

Gally, however, had not.

Her decision couldn't have been that bad... could it?

It stayed as a weight on her shoulders; the uncertainty. How had Alby ever managed to make decisions? She really wasn't sure, and she hoped she wouldn't have to do it for much longer. It was hard.

Kennedy didn't like the feeling that it gave her. With great power came great responsibility, and that was a heavy burden. Alby was a machine. Dealing with the responsibility of those boys every single day took guts. While Kennedy had always felt that responsibility, to keep them safe and sound, she had never been put in charge of them like Alby was. Everything went through Alby. He knew every single thing about every single person. Nothing happened without his word of approval. Alby had made difficult decisions from his very first day in the glade, and there had been some really difficult ones — Alby had watched boys die, and he had deal with it. Hell, Alby had decided some. All because he was their leader, and he did what it was that he had to do. Always.

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