A/N: Hello everyone! Christmas is getting closer, yay! I'm very excited and looking forward to the holidays already. I have so much stuff to take care of before that, though, but I won't forget about you! Here's chapter 9. This is one of the chapters that makes me very anxious about your response.. Anyway, here we go! *takes a deep breath*
You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies
Few hours later Newt woke Thomas up again. This time the dark-haired boy's response to being forced to cut short his sleep was far more irritated. There was some exhausted bickering between the two boys as the other one tried to assure there was nothing wrong with him while the other refused to let the younger boy sleep again until he had made Newt somewhat convinced.
The morning light fought its way to the small room through the window. Newt blinked his exhausted eyes open as he heard the familiar sounds of the Glade waking up and starting a new day. He had been more or less dozing off again after waking Thomas up for the second time. He hadn't let himself fall asleep deeper this time, though.
Newt rose from his chair and stretched his arms over his head, yawning. He took a few steps to stand in front of the window. The Gladers were making their way to breakfast and others were already starting their work of the day. Newt spotted a group of Runners near the Map room, ready to head for the Maze soon. He also saw Chuck walking towards the kitchen, his head hanging low, his stance defeated. Newt found himself wondering what had gotten the young boy so upset and if the beaten Greenie currently snoring softly on the bed had anything to do with it. Thomas had grown quite close with the chubby kid over the last two weeks, Newt had observed.
The loud, screeching and familiar sound of the walls of the Glade opening pierced Newt's ears as his eyes observed the event behind the window. Suddenly he heard a loud gasp and the sound of bed sheets rustling as the boy on the bed was woken up by the sounds drifting from outside. Newt turned around and found Thomas leaning on the bed with his elbows that tried to hold his upper body up. He looked ready to rush out of the bed at any moment until his wild eyes settled upon Newt and he relaxed visibly, seeming to finally realize where he was.
"Good morning," Newt said with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his back to the wall next to the window.
"Morning," Thomas mumbled, sweeping his hand over his face and scratching the back of his head, frowning at the slight pain.
"How are you doing?" Newt asked, stepping closer automatically.
Thomas rolled his eyes, trying to sit up but then stopped as he started swaying, growled and squeezed his eyes shut. Newt rushed to put his hands on Thomas's shoulders, placing him back on the bed carefully.
"Tommy?" Newt whispered, worried. The dark-haired boy slowly opened his eyes again, squeezing his forehead with his fingers.
"I was feeling fine but then all of a sudden the room just started to spin," Thomas explained, avoiding his gaze.
Newt straightened up and started to sort through the bag on the table. "Well, Tommy, I'm no Med-jack, but I guess eating some food will help you feel better. You haven't felt sick in hours so I guess you can handle these for starters," he reasoned, snatching a few granola bars from the bag, handing them to Thomas.
The dark-haired boy took them eagerly and started to tore open the wrapping, taking a huge bite of the bar in seconds.
"Thanks," Thomas murmured, his mouth full.
Newt snorted at the boy's eagerness, amused, earning a glare from Thomas.
"Anyway, I suppose I should get Jeff to take a look at you and decide what to do with you next," Newt said and glanced at Thomas's bare chest, swallowing. "I should probably find you something to wear, as well."
Thomas eyed him, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, good that."
Newt nodded, starting to back away towards the door. "I'll go grab something for you from my room and find Jeff. You be a good Greenie and stay right there, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Newt stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
*.*.*
Newt closed the door of his room, leaning against it. He let out a deep, shuddering exhale. He had no idea what had been going on between him and Thomas last night but there was no denying something was definitely happening. Newt swept a hand over his tired face, willing his beating heart to calm down.
Finally he stepped away from the door and made his way toward his small wardrobe in the corner. Newt opened the top drawer and pulled out a long-sleeved, pale gray shirt. Then he opened the second one and eyed his pants collection laying there in neat piles. Newt had a pretty slim waist himself so he wondered if any of his trousers would fit Thomas. He had to swallow hard as he remembered how it felt to hold those strong, muscled hips under his hands. After a moment of indecision, he grabbed the largest trousers he could find, deciding they'd have to do. For a moment he hesitated, looking at the pairs of clean boxers, but snatched one of them as well.
As Newt pushed both of the drawers shut on the same movement, he heard the door to his room open. He turned back to face the room and was taken aback by the sight of Alby, standing at his door and closing it shut behind him.
"Alby?" Newt asked, surprised, wondering if something had happened. "What's going on?"
Alby exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I just threw Ben to the Slammer after trying to find out what happened yesterday. Such a waste of time. The things he said.. I don't know whether to believe half the things coming out of his mouth. He really hasn't been himself after.. what happened to him," Alby sighed. He raised his gaze to fall upon Newt and a frown appeared on his face.
"Have you been up all night again? You look even more tired than yesterday." Alby started to step closer, his eyes falling to the heap of clothes Newt held in his hands. The dark-skinned boy stopped suddenly, something shifting in his eyes as the boy looked at Newt's face again. "Don't tell me you've been staying with the Greenie the whole night? You were the one who Jeff said was taking care of him," Alby realised, his tone turning accusing.
Newt frowned, utterly taken aback by Alby's words. "Um, yeah, I did look after him. Of course I did. He has a concussion and someone had to watch over him," he explained, irritation starting to tug at the edges of his mind. "Is there a problem, Alby?"
Alby's eyes turned dark in a way Newt had never experienced before, not when his eyes were focused on him. Alby took another step closer, only few feet separating them now. There was a strange stench drifting from Alby, one that Newt didn't immediately recognise. Newt felt coldness sweep down his spine again, making him shiver slightly.
"Yes, Newt, there is a problem. What the hell is going on with you?" Alby demanded, his tone turning dark, poisonous. "You barely see me these days, you flinch when I barely lay a finger in your direction, you avoid me in every situation possible. But you have no problem with Thomas, the bloody saint. You keep looking after him, touching him, looking at him as if he's a bloody saviour of the world," Alby spat, gripping Newt's shoulders, pushing him hard against the drawers.
Newt gasped, his eyes widening. The edge of the drawer bit painfully into his back. As the boy pushed himself closer, Newt realised he stank strongly of alcohol. "Alby! What the hell-" he shouted, but was cut off as Alby suddenly lifted him on top of the drawer, pushing against him and freezing Newt, the clothes stumbling to the floor from his hands.
Alby held him tightly, squeezing his arms with such force that made Newt's eyes water. The dark-skinned boy ignored the trembling boy in his arms as he sneered, "You know how I recognize your way of looking at him? It's because you used to look me the same way." Newt stared at him, utterly speechless. Alby growled and attacked Newt's lips that were slightly parted from shock.
Newt's brain shut down for a moment. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Was Alby – the kind, loving, caring Alby – trying to- No!
In a flash Newt became aware again of the way Alby's tongue was assaulting his mouth and the way his hips ground against him. He tore his mouth away from Alby's attack and pushed the older boy hard to the chest with his other hand. The boy hardly flinched and gripped his hair again, tightly.
"Alby, stop this! You're hurting me-" Newt tried to plead, desperation and hurt and anger mixing on his voice but Alby claimed his mouth again, unrelentingly.
Suddenly Newt's ears registered the sound of a door opening on the opposite side of the room. He turned his head slightly to stare at the intruder and as he realised just who exactly it was standing there, Newt felt coldness and fear swallow him completely.
"Newt? I-" Thomas, clothed in his old and bloody rags, started as his gaze swept over the room but was immediately cut off as his eyes descended on the two boys at the other side of the room. Thomas's eyes widened and he stumbled a step back, looking as if he'd just been punched in the face. His lips thinned into a grim line, a cold detachment and hurt mixing in his eyes, and he stumbled out of the room as fast as he had burst in just a moment ago.
Newt felt his insides turn cold all over. He could only imagine what the situation must've seemed like for Thomas. Newt was basically draped all over Alby from Thomas's point of view. Newt's hands against Alby's chest, his legs on both sides of the other boy's waist, Alby hovering over him and kissing him hard. He felt some strength flow through his limbs as an irresistible urge to run after the dark-haired Greenie overwhelmed him. Newt snapped out of his momentary shock and he bit down Alby's lips, hard, and finally managed to tore his mouth free again.
"Thomas, wait!" Newt shouted, desperation clear on his voice as he planted his hand against Alby's chest, once again trying to push free. All of it was in vain though, since the door slammed tightly shut after Thomas. It was too late.