A/N: Hello everyone, it's finally time for a new chapter again! For one reason or another, it seems that my chapters are only getting longer and longer.. I hope you can cope with that! Enjoy! x

Right in front of me
Talk some sense to me

Newt and Thomas spent the morning closely together. They went to the Fields to continue the work Newt had begun the day before. Not soon after they had begun, Newt spotted Jeff crossing the grass near them. The fair-haired boy yanked Thomas with him as he ran to meet the Med-jack. Thomas tried to ease himself out of Newt's grasp, whining that there was nothing wrong with him anymore, but Newt was unyielding and insisted that Jeff took one last look at the Greenie.

Back inside the Homestead, Jeff lowered his Med-jack's bag to the table and asked Thomas to strip out of his clothes again so that he could take a look at his remaining injuries. Both Thomas and Newt made a noise of complaint at the same time and glanced at each other quickly. Jeff raised his eyebrows at the two of them.

"I thought it was you, Newt, who insisted for this check-up," Jeff asked in a bit of an accusing tone.

Newt blushed lightly and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, yeah, but I mean – is it really necessary-"

"I'm totally fine, there's no need for-"

"Oh for God's sake, let me just do my job here, okay? Now get out of your clothes, and quickly," Jeff growled, turning around and going through his bag.

Thomas rolled his eyes and glanced at Newt who was biting his lip. A slow smile spread on the dark-haired boy's lips as he quickly threw his shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt, stepping out of his pants, and leaving only his underwear on.

Newt's breath hitched in his chest and he had to swallow hard as his eyes roamed over Thomas's exposed body once again. As he noted the few, fading bruises on his skin that he had missed in the heatened haze of the morning, he felt quilt turning his stomach into knots. He hadn't given much thought to Thomas's lingering bruises and cuts while they both had lost themselves in each other. Newt was just about to step closer as Jeff turned back around and asked Thomas to sit on the bed.

Thomas did as he was told, grudgingly, and let Jeff do his check-up in peace. Newt watched as the Med-jack kept his approach clinical but couldn't quite suppress the hiss that escaped his lips as Jeff placed his hand over the dark bruise on Thomas's side. Thomas took a sharp intake of breath at the pain the touch ignited, but as he heard Newt's hissing the boy raised his head quickly and met Newt's darkened eyes, smiling to him reassuringly.

"Hurts?" Jeff enquired, raising his eyebrows. Thomas nodded, wincing slightly.

Finally Jeff retreated, standing a respecting distance away.

"Alright, it seems you're recovering just fine. The bruise might take a week or so to heal properly since the kick you received in your side was pretty nasty. But other than that.. Do you have any lingering pain, dizziness, troubles with your eyesight, throbbing headache, or any other abnormal symptoms?" Jeff listed with his fingers and Thomas shook his head at his every suggestion.

"Nope, nothing. That's what I've been trying to tell you, I'm as fine as I've ever been," Thomas assured, hopping off the table.

"Alright, good that. There's nothing else I could do for you, then. Now, I gotta hurry to take care of some sick sheep," Jeff muttered, backing away and cursing under his breath. Thomas started putting his clothes back on, chuckling at the Med-jack's swearing. At the door Jeff turned around, having one final thing to say, "Just try to stay out of trouble, Greenie!"

"Yeah, yeah," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, the trouble seems to find me, not the other way round."

As the door closed behind Jeff, Newt rushed to Thomas, unable to hold back the growing uneasiness which seeing Jeff so close to Thomas had caused. Thomas yelped as Newt grabbed his bare shoulders, leaning in and kissing him possessively. The dark-haired boy hummed in pleasure, parting his lips under Newt's angry probing and grabbing the blonde's waist.

After a while Newt drew his lips back, pecking Thomas's jaw and resting his forehead on the other boy's shoulder, breathing him in.

"Newt.. Were you actually jealous?" Thomas murmured, sweeping his hand over the blond's back, amusement clear on his voice.

A growl worked its way up to Newt's throat. "Shut up, Tommy."

"You know, it was your idea to have this goddamned check-up-"

"God, you're an idiot," Newt scowled, claiming Thomas's mouth again in a quick, passionate, bruising kiss.

As he retreated slightly, Newt looked over Thomas's face, as if searching for something. In the end he sighed, lowering his gaze and swiping his hands over Thomas's abdomen and the few marks of violence there.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you earlier.. I kind of forgot you might still be in pain," Newt whispered, feeling the quilt stab at his stomach again.

Thomas took Newt's face between his palms, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Hey, look at me. Did I look like I was hurt?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows and in the end Newt sighed, shaking his head as a smile tried to tug at his lips. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Thomas smiled, swiping his thumbs over Newt's cheekbones.

Newt's eyelids fluttered closed as a shiver of pleasure ran over his skin.

"I only agreed to this because I knew it would reassure you," Thomas said, leaning in little by little. Just as their lips were an mere inch away, he breathed, "From now on, you're the only one allowed to touch me."

Newt gasped as Thomas closed the distance between them again, kissing Newt as if his life depended on it.

*.*.*

A few hours later, the twelve members of the Council made their way to the Homestead. Minho had returned from the Maze just in time for lunch and now the Gathering was just about to begin. Thomas had tried his best to get himself involved in the decision making ("But you are talking about my future, don't you think I deserve a say in the matter?"), but Newt had been strict and hadn't given in for an inch ("The rules are the rules, Tommy, whether ya liked it or not. We will call you there when we're ready and you will have a final say about the decision. Can't make any promises, though.. It's always been the Keepers who have decided about the work distribution, and that's the way it's gonna be.").

Finally Thomas had groaned in surrender and given up with his objections. Newt could clearly see the boy was none too happy about it, but offered him a satisfied smile before nudging the Greenie slightly with his elbow.

"Go, Tommy, I'll see you soon," he had murmured, letting his voice low. Thomas had watched him with a slight pout on his lips but at Newt's tone he offered him a lopsided smile, rolling his eyes a bit before starting to back away, making his way towards the Fields instead.

As Newt was now taking the stairs to the large Council room upstairs, he made a mental note to himself to keep his thoughts from drifting back to the dark-haired Greenie. It might be easier said than done considering the said boy would be the topic of the day, the blond-haired boy realised with a groan. His mind had still difficulties to grasp everything that had happened during this morning. He wondered if he had smiled more in the last few hours than during the last few months in the Glade. His cheeks wouldn't probably be able to keep it up for much longer.

Finally at the right door, Newt drew in a long breath and pulled himself together, swiping the ridiculous smirk from his face. He opened the door, stepped over the threshold and felt his neck flushing inadvertently as he realised he was the last to arrive to the room and everyone was already waiting for him there. He swallowed, closed the door behind him and made his way through the large, plain room towards the semicircle of chairs. He tried his best to keep his face as guarded as possible as he could feel eleven pairs of eyes boring into him.

Newt sat down on the only empty chair in the middle, on the right side of Alby. After having settled and nodded to a couple of boys, he moved his gaze to the left and met Minho's eyes. The Asian boy was smiling smugly and winked at him. Newt resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him and instead turned to Alby. Newt raised his eyebrows in an inquiring manner. Alby nodded to him curtly, cleared his throat and a silence ensued.

"Alright, now that the whole Council is present, I declare this Gathering begun," Alby said with his deep voice, eyeing the Keepers on the both sides of him. "The reason for this Gathering is the same as every month. The question of the day is, where do we put our Newbie, Thomas?"

They had been through this so many times already that Newt couldn't help but wonder how Alby still had the patience to all his formal words in their Gatherings. Newt understood order, but he usually appreciated more straightforward action than tricky, pretty words. He respected traditions, though, as they were quite essential in maintaining order in the Glade, so he would never mention his complaints aloud to Alby and in those few occasions when he had had to run the Gathering by himself, he respected Alby's ways, as well.

"Newt, would you take the notes?" Alby asked him, handing over the notebook and the pen in his lap.

"Sure," Newt said, accepting the tools and setting the tip of the pen on the paper, ready to write.

"Thanks. So, Keepers, what are your impressions of Thomas?" Alby enquired, looking around before settling his eyes to the boy on the far right, the Keeper of the Gardens. Before Alby could urge the boy to tell his opinion, however, there was a loud snort on their left.

"That slinthead's one shucking piece of klunk that will only cause trouble wherever he goes," Gally sneered, his arms crossed over his chest. Newt's fists tightened almost unconsciously on his lap.

Alby turned his narrowed eyes at him. "Did I, by any chance, give you permission to open your mouth?"

Gally shrugged. "You can't deny that-"

"We don't have all day for interruptions, Gally, you know that very well. We will hear each of you out, one by one, and then discuss the propositions. Wait. For. Your. Turn," Alby emphasized every word with such a strong authority in his voice that it caused Gally to back off.

As Alby nodded for Zart, the boy on the far right, to finally speak, Newt eased his whitened knuckles.

The fair-haired, broad-shouldered boy straightened up slightly and said, "Thomas worked really hard in the Gardens. He has strong muscles and clearly could manage physical work in the Fields, too. I would gladly take him to work with me."

Newt scribbled some of Zart's words to the notebook and chuckled inwardly as he recalled Thomas's complaints while they were working together on the Fields and Gardens few hours ago. If Zart is to be his Keeper, Tommy will be absolutely delighted. Shaking his head lightly, he raised his gaze again as it was Frypan's turn to speak.

"Thomas is a great fella and I'd gladly keep him around. After putting some thought to this, however, I think kitchen isn't exactly his place. I think it's better to put him somewhere else," Frypan stated, going straight to the point.

Alby was nodding along and asked for the next boy to speak up. He was a black-haired, short boy and in charge of the Sloppers, the least appealing work option in the Glade.

"Well, to be honest, I'm pretty sure we'll be able to figure out something a lil bit more challenging work to do for Thomas than cleaning the toilets," the boy mumbled, not looking like he had much of an opinion about the whole thing. Some of the Keepers rolled their eyes and soon Alby gestured for the next boy to speak aloud.

Winston was smiling and shaking his head while he gave out his thoughts. "I was the first Keeper to have Thomas and I could tell the boy wasn't exactly thrilled with all the slicing and stuff. Not much use of someone like him when it comes to slaughtering. He doesn't really have the blood lust in his eyes, if you know what I mean," the boy sniggered to his own joke, which didn't exactly have the desired effect on others and his laughter died out shortly.

Next up was Newt, but since neither he nor Alby were Keepers, they were skipped, as usual, and the rest of the Keepers were heard out first.

A hesitant 'maybe' for Med-jacks (not ideal), a 'maybe' for Track-Hoes, a 'no' for Baggers,...

And then it was Gally's turn.

"I wouldn't take that shank to work with Builders if it was the last choice we had. Can't stand the guy and I'm pretty damn sure the feeling is mutual. I'd say we simply put him with the Sloppers, that's were that shuckhead belongs," Gally scoffed, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Newt's hands were shaking so badly it was no use trying to write a thing down anymore. Somehow Alby seemed to sense that his friend was just about to snap and gave the blond a warning glance. It wasn't easy, but Newt managed to swallow most of the bile that had risen up to his throat and keep his words to himself.

Minho had been silent for the whole ordeal but as Alby finally nodded to him in acknowledgement, the black-haired boy smiled ruefully.

"Not many of you seem to quite know what to do with our Greenie, huh?" Minho enquired, his gaze sweeping over the group of Keepers. "Anyway, I have a suggestion for you. I'd say we make him a Runner Trainee."

That certainly erupted some chatter amongst the boys. Newt stared at Minho for a long time, feelings and thoughts mixing inside him.

That's what you've been thinking about yourself, too, right?

Isn't this what Thomas has been on about the whole time he's been here?

There haven't been many who have deserved the chance to be a Runner so soon, but Thomas is definitely one of them, and you know it.

And you also know Thomas would be great in it, don't you?

Truth was, Newt believed Thomas would make an excellent Runner. There was no doubt about that. Lately, however, Newt had found himself more and more affected by the thought of Thomas becoming a Runner on a personal level. Being a Runner was nothing to take lightly under any conditions, and just the thought of Thomas there, trapped inside the Maze, out of Newt's sight, made Newt's blood run cold in his veins.

Newt was shaken out of his thoughts again as he heard Alby's voice beside him. "Would you care to explain us a bit what has convinced you to suggest something like this, Minho?"

There was a doubt in Alby's voice and Newt was suddenly reminded that their leader didn't think about their newest Greenie as fondly as one would assume.

"Well, for one, he's in perfectly good shape. He has some pretty interesting thoughts in that shuck head of his, and most wickedly.. he isn't afraid of the Maze. Not in the slightest. Since day one, he's clearly indicated his interest and willingness to become a Runner. He saw what's out there through that window on his first day, and he just shrugged it off. He wants to be a Runner more eagerly than any other Greenie I've ever met. And I don't care if that makes it sound like he's been whacked for good.. We don't have enough people like him here. Let's make him a Trainee and I'm shucking sure that he'll prove himself to be one of the best Runners we've ever had."

The smile on Newt's face grew gradually bigger at his friend's words.

Alby regarded Minho silently for a minute. Then he nodded slowly. "I can see you've put thought into this, and as you are the Keeper of the Runners, the Council will trust your judgement." Then Alby turned to Newt. "What do-"

Gally seemed to finally shake himself out of the shock that had taken over him at Minho's words. "That is the stupidest suggestion you've ever stuttered out of your shucking mouth, Minho. Thomas, a Trainee!? That's pure klunk! Pure-"

"GALLY! Which part of 'wait for your turn' did you not undestand? EVERY Council member gives his opinion first, and only after that we'll discuss them and vote. Until then, if I hear one word from you, I will have to ask you to leave this Gathering. Understood?" Alby snarled, a clear threat creeping up to his voice. Gally looked utterly pissed but lowered his furious gaze to the ground.

"So, Newt, will you tell us your thoughts on the matter?"

Newt bit his upper lip, drawing his mouth to a straight line as he pondered how to put into words the mess that his thoughts were. Soon, however, the answer came to him, and he talked with a strong sincerity in his voice, "I think Tommy could manage brilliantly wherever we decided to put him. And like Minho, I can also see that he clearly has great potential to become a Runner. He's clever and highly motivated, a bit impulsive, too, but that's not always a bad thing.." the last few words were a hasty stutter from Newt's lips as the boy flushed lightly. In a second, however, he gathered himself and continued, "I agree with Minho. Let's make him a Trainee."

As Newt glanced at Alby beside him, he was taken aback by the sadness he witnessed there. Soon, their leader turned his gaze away, though, and opened his mouth to speak.

"I can tell by your words and from what I've witnessed that our newest Greenie isn't quite the kind we get here every month. A few of you have agreed to take Thomas under your guidance with a good reasoning. I think.. We are quite soon ready to vote."

*.*.*

The discussion turned out to be short-lived, and the voting was over within the next thirty minutes, as well. After the decision had been made Thomas was invited to join them. As soon as the dark-haired boy stepped to the room, Newt's heart started to pound harder for the mere sight of him. Their eyes locked almost immediately, and Newt couldn't help smiling at him. Alby beckoned Thomas to step forward and asked him to sit down on the chair before the Council.

Thomas sat, eyed the boys before him and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Thomas, the Council has just come to an agreement of your future Keeper here. If you find yourself strongly disagreeing with the decision, we might reconsider it but I can tell you that never once has the Council's first decision been changed before."

Thomas nodded slowly, and Newt could see the boy was starting to get amused by all the formal words Alby offered. Thomas's eyes twinkled a bit as he asked with eagerness clear on his voice, "Well, what is your decision, then?"

"Greenie, you've just been elected as Runner Trainee. Congratulations."