Newt arrives to take Thomas to the Slammer, and his grin tells Thomas the world is okay. End of Chapter 29.

Thomas picked up his plate and took it to the counter.

"All i want is one normal day - one day to relax."

"Then your bloody wish is granted," said a voice from the kitchen door behind him.

Thomas turned to see Newt there, smiling. That grin sent a wave of reassurance through Thomas, as if he were finding out the world was okay again.

"Come on, ya buggin' jailbird," Newt said. "You can take it easy while you're hangin' in the Slammer. Let's go. Chucky'll bring ya some lunch at noon."

Thomas nodded and headed out the door, Newt leading the way. Suddenly a day in prison sounded excellent. A day to just sit and relax.

He followed Newt, drawing level with the older boy. As they walked across the Glade he watched the others at work, the peaceful atmosphere almost soothing.

"You realise some of the others don't think one day in there is enough for what i did." he said thoughtfully, more of a statement than a question.

Newt looked over at him. The sunlight filtered through the fringe of his hair and danced on his eyelashes. He smiled that smile again, and Thomas couldn't help but smile too.

"Oh, i know. Had to give ya somethin', you broke Rule Number One. But you saved two of our own, Tommy. I hardly think that a week in the Slammer would be a fittin' reward, do you?"

Thomas shook his head, looking down at his feet to try to hide the size of the grin on his face.

"Thanks."

Newt snorted, before casually bumping a fist to his shoulder.

"Try to keep in mind that it's a punishment, not a privilege."

Thomas glanced up in surprise at the touch, catching Newt's dark brown eyes on him. The older boy's gaze held a friendly humour that set a flicker of affection alight in Thomas's chest. He felt his face warm.

"I'll try to keep it in mind."

Newt chuckled, shaking his head.

"I don't know what to make of you, Tommy. You're just chock-full of surprises, ain't cha?"

Thomas spread his hands and shrugged, feeling emboldened by the other boy's mirth.

"What can i say. I'm told enigmatic is charismatic." he said with a cocky half-smirk.

Thomas jumped as Newt threw his head back, a loud laugh booming into the air as though startled from him. He turned his brown eyes on Thomas again and the younger boy felt an odd quiver run through his abdomen at the indecipherable look that lay within them.

"That it is, Tommy. That it is."

Thomas grinned, oddly pleased.

"Although around here, mysteries and unanswered questions are rife, and not too welcome." he glanced at Thomas before looking away, forwards. Thomas watched the side of his face as he spoke, "Best really just to come out and say whatever it is that's goin' on inside your head."

Thomas stumbled, almost tripping as he looked at Newt and his words sunk in. Could he possibly be referring to what Thomas thought he might? A flush of heat rose within him from his toes to his scalp and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice only wavering a little towards the end.

If Newt noticed, he didn't react. Instead he hummed the affirmative, still looking straight ahead of them. Thomas could feel his brain working as he looked down at the grass passing under his feet and thought over the other boy's words.

The Slammer stood in an obscure place between the Homestead and the north Glade wall, hidden behind thorny, ragged bushes that looked like they hadn't been trimmed in ages. It was a block of roughly cut concrete, with one tiny, barred window and a wooden door that was locked with a menacing rusty metal latch, like something out of the Dark Ages.

Newt took out a key and opened it up. He looked at Thomas then, and Thomas felt something within himself steel in determination. They were practically hidden from the Gladers where they stood, and he met Newt's brown-eyed look. The blonde simply looked back at him, his eyebrows slightly raised. Thomas licked his lip and looked away, into the Slammer.

"You know, i like you. I think you're about the nicest thing about this place." he said before he could chicken out, still looking into the dim room instead of at Newt. Newt hesitated, before his face split into a warm grin. Thomas couldn't help but look at him then.

"You know, i like you too Greenie. Dunno what it is about ya, but i like it just the same."

Thomas could feel his face growing warm and suspected he was blushing quite badly. Newt didn't mention it.

"About the enigmatic is charismatic thing… I- well. I'd like to think it worked on you."

That was the last of his bravery holding out, and he ducked through the doorway into the small room of the Slammer feeling much like an uncomfortable coward. His stomach was doing somersaults as he looked around the small space. There was nothing in the room but an ugly, rickety chair. He realised his heart was racing and swallowed.

Newt popped his head in the doorway, making Thomas jump. The blonde merely grinned, his brown eyes glinting.

"Tommy, i'd like to think you'd know it does."

And then he was gone, the door closed and the latch drawn across with a rasping snap of finality. Thomas stood blinking at the door, the space where Newt's face had just been seeming vastly empty.

He looked down at the lone piece of furniture. It was going to be an uncomfortable day. Mind you, it would be a whole day of pondering the blonde and his words, and the odd shivery feeling Thomas got in his abdomen every time the blonde looked at him, or smiled. Or called him Tommy.

A whole day of relaxing. A normal, lazy day just like he'd wanted.

Though something told him there was a better chance of Gally bringing him flowers than of passing a day in the Glade with nothing strange happening.