Good That

Newt's POV

The next few days passed in a blur, like a flatline, and the events that happened were the heart beats. Taking care of Alby and listening to him scream was one of them. Me having to control fifty shanks was another. But the worst was the counsel meeting where Thomas began his life as a runner. I was devastated. We had all been sitting there, discussing what should happen to my Tommy. He had broken the number one rule, but he had saved Alby. Out of nowhere, Minho stood and announced that he was nominating Thomas to take his place as the keeper of the runners. My heart lurched. He couldn't possibly, because I had to keep him safe! My mind raced, but I forced myself to stay calm as everyone gave their reasons. My eyes met Tommy's, and he mouthed "Deadheads corner. Tonight," and winked. I smiled and sat in my seat, happy. I was contemplating taking a little nap when Gally stood up and Minho attacked him. I snapped out of my peaceful mind and sprang up. "Woah!" I shouted, pulling them apart. The commotion settled and everyone looked at me expectantly. They were waiting for me to say what would happen to Thomas. I looked him in the eye with an expression that said I was sorry. "Okay," I ran my fingers through my hair. "Thomas broke the rule, but he saved Alby, so we can't forget that. For saving Alby he gets to become a runner, but not the keeper. Minho, you're the keeper so you know that job doesn't come with klunk. However," I grimaced. "For breaking the rule he will spend a whole day in our tiny jail," I finished, and turned away before anyone could see the guilt in my eyes. Tommy looked crestfallen, and his little frown showed. "Okay the keepers are dismissed," I slammed my hand on the plaster wall. The boys flowed out, and I turned to catch Tommy. "I'm sorry," I murmured. He wouldn't look at me. I brought him to the door and led him in. "Make yourself at home," I announced half-heartedly. Thomas looked at me. "Why?" he asked, angry. I wanted to hold him. "Because if I didn't do it then everyone would be breaking the rules left and right," I explained, and reached for his arm. He jerked back. "I'm sorry Tommy!" I pleaded, but he just turned so his back faced me. I shook my head, sad, and left him there. I visited to bring him food, but he wouldn't say anything or even look at me. Finally, for dinner I brought the food and two cushions. When I entered the room, my Tommy glared at me. I sat down gingerly on one of the cushions and motioned to the good. Reluctantly, he sat and nibbled at a pork chop. "Tommy? Are you gonna talk?" I asked. He looked at me. He stood and closed the door, locking it. On impulse, my hand traveled to the haft of my machete. "It's okay, I understand," Tommy said. I was slightly relieved. "I just...we were going to meet at the deadheads an then you made this happen, even though you knew what we had planned," Tommy sat and picked at his food. He reached over and stroked my hair. "Good that?" he asked. "Good that," I smiled, and we dug into the food.