CHAPTER SEVEN

Alby had been the first one at the Glade. This made him the leader. Minho and Newt happened to be the ones who had survived the longest, next to Alby. So, they were the other undisputed leaders, though Alby could overrule them.

When Ben had woken up in the Glade, he had been so confused, not knowing what was happening, where he was, what were these other boys doing there, and could someone please just give a straight answer!?

He was about to have an anxiety attack, when this calm, strong boy, whose name he later learns to be Newt, comes up to him, laying a hand on his chest and tells him to just breathe.

And so he did, looking into his eyes, letting the calm wash over him and anchor him to reality.

Since then, whenever he was overwhelmed he would find Newt, and sit by him, letting his presence anchor him. And Newt understood.

Ben was under no delusions that Ben was special to Newt, or something like that. He knew very well that Newt was just doing his job and would do this, be a support, for any of the Gladers.

Knowing it, wasn't enough to keep him from being infatuated with Newt. A small part of him was jealous that he could never have the easy camaraderie that was between Alby, Minho and Newt. The only consolation for Ben, no matter how bitter it may be, was that Newt was not interested in any of the others.

That is, he was fine with it until the Greenie.

Thomas.

Ben was filled with crippling jealousy and unreasonable hate, whenever he saw how Newt went out of his way to help the newbie. He could only grit his teeth as he watched Newt and Thomas catch the other's eyes and exchange soft smiles.

He poured all his frustration and anger (that should have been him) into running. He was broken out of that haze by a sharp pain below his ribs. He stumbled to a stop and saw that the other runners were running to another section of the Maze.

"Come on, Ben!" Minho shouted.

Ben shook his head and put that pain out of his head. He took off after the other runners, not wanting to be left behind.

He should have seen what had caused him that stinging pain. He should have, but he didn't.

So, when he was overcome by a red haze covering his vision when he saw Newt smiling playfully at Thomas and bumping his shoulder, he lost it.

He was only vaguely aware of following Thomas into the woods. He could hear someone shouting, though he didn't know who.

"It's your fault! He should have been MINE! He IS mine! You took him away from me. It's your fault!"

He wasn't even aware of running. He was snapped out of his haze only when he felt something hit his side strongly and knock him to the ground. Newt's face swam in front of him. He looked beautiful with the sky as the background. But he was frowning and gesturing angrily.

"Newt? What...?" Ben muttered, confused.

Alby came to stand next to Newt. He was frowning too.

"Lift up his shirt," Alby ordered.

Everyone gasped, when his torso was visible. Ben himself couldn't believe it.

He had been stung.

Ben looked up at Newt again. But he saw him worrying over Thomas. Thomas looked like he had been in a fight. His clothes were all rumpled, leaves were sticking in his hair, he had a cut lip which Newt was dabbing at slowly, clearly trying not to cause him pain.

Only then did it strike Ben just why everyone was looking at him with grave faces.

He had tried to kill Thomas.

And in that moment, he knew exactly what his fate was going to be.

After Ben was taken to the pit, Newt couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He muttered something to Alby and Minho and escaped from there. He didn't see them exchange worried glances.

Clenching his hands to fists, he walked blindly into the woods, dodging branches subconsciously.

He couldn't get the moment of Thomas running, shouting for help, with a feral looking Ben chasing after him, out of his head. He remembered that paralysing feeling when he saw Thomas go down after Ben tackled him.

He wasn't even aware of running to them and swinging the shovel at Ben.

Newt was jarred out of his thoughts when he felt someone catch his shoulders and turn him around. He didn't even notice that he had been leaning on a tree, his hands still clenched into fists.

"Hey," whispered a familiar voice.

Newt looked up at Thomas, looking concerned for Newt. Thomas, who was recently attacked by a maniac, was concerned for him. Newt didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Newt," said Thomas, softly. "Are you okay?"

His eyes roamed over Thomas' face, lingering over the cuts on his cheeks and the split lip. Without conscious thought, his hands lifted to cradle his face, careful not to touch any of the bruises.

Newt let out a strangled chuckle.

"You are asking if I am okay? Tommy, you were the one who was attacked!"

Thomas shrugged, unconcerned for himself.

Newt wanted to smack him.

Instead, his thumb traced the split lip lightly. It wasn't very deep, but it still looked painful.

"Does it hurt?" Newt asked, in a low voice.

Thomas lifted his own hands to catch Newt's, but didn't move them away from his face. He just held them in place.

"It stings a bit, but otherwise I am fine."

Newt lifted his head slightly to see Thomas staring at him intensely. He felt a blush steal over his cheeks and cursed his pale complexion.

He gulped when Thomas leant towards him. Newt's eyes fluttered shut as Thomas rested his forehead upon his.

"Newt," began Thomas, in his gravelly voice. A small part of Newt wondered if it was because of Thomas' proximity to him.

"Newt, I am fine, alright? I am not hurt." Here, Thomas gave a wicked smirk. "I'm pretty sure it's Ben who is hurt. You've got a very strong arm, Newt. Very flexible, to be able to twist that shovel and swing it that fast."

Newt shoved him away, cheeks burning, a bright grin on his face.

"Oh shut up, Tommy," he said, snorting. He tried to smack him again, but he dodged, laughing all the while.

Newt didn't understand what this Greenie was doing to him. He made him laugh genuinely, made him care, and worry. He didn't realize how truly apathetic he had been all this time. The last time he could remember feeling anything strongly, was the pain that broke through his depression as he broke his ankle. Oh, he laughed and joked when he was with the other Gladers. But, he was pretty sure only Alby, Minho and Frypan realized that he was putting on a mask.

What are you doing to me, Tommy?

A/N: There we have Ben with a bit more of Newtmas interactions.

And if you find any mistakes, let me know.

I love hearing what you think!