Chapter Text
V
"Bloody hell, is it time already?" Newt asked, looking up as the siren blared. That meant the Box was coming up, but to Newt it felt like Chuck had just come up yesterday.
"Yeah, man," Frypan laughs, slapping a hand to Newt's shoulder. "Let's go welcome the poor guy."
Newt grinned and him and Frypan set off towards the center of the Glade. All the newer guys were running over to catch a look at the new guy, but Newt had witnessed enough new people for the rest of his life. It was always the same.
"Where am I? Who are you? What is that?"
Quite tiring.
But as second in command, his job, he supposed.
"Poor bugger," Newt muttered. "This one's got Gally's face as a welcoming."
Frypan laughed, and Newt tried pushing to the front to catch a glimpse of the Greenie's face, but then he off, running across the Glade like Minho in the Maze. Newt raised his eyebrows and looked to Alby, who was watching the runner with calculating eyes.
"Good build," Newt commented as he went to stand by their leader. "Could be a runner."
"Yeah, maybe-" Alby started, but stopped as the boy tripped and tumbled to the ground.
Newt let out a laugh and shook his head. "Never mind."
He headed back to the gardens to continue working. He helped Zart plant the new batch of carrots that had been sent up, and thought about how boring this job was compared to his last one. But he'll take it. He'll take anything after what happened.
When he decided Zart was alright on his own, Newt scanned the Glade and saw Alby talking to the new Greenie alone. He wiped his hands and decided to go over and say hello, seeing as it was probably part of his job.
"Hey, you alright, Alby?" Newt called as he walked up to the pair.
Alby grinned at Newt, then looked to the newbie. "Greenbean, meet Newt. When I'm not around, he's in charge."
"Hi," Newt smiled, shaking the boy's hand. "What's your name?"
"T-Thomas," he replied, staring intently at Newt.
Tommy.
Newt blinked. Where had that come from? He was good a nicknames but that one... it felt like it had already been his brain, just waiting to jump out at the perfect time. The longer he looked at Thomas, the odder he felt. It was like an itch, but he didn't know where to scratch.
"Well... it's a good thing you're always around then," Newt said slowly, taking his hand out of Thomas's and looking back at Alby. "Listen, that was some dash you made earlier. You know, for a second I thought you had the chops to be a runner. 'Til you face planted."
Alby laughed, but Thomas just looked even more confused. "Runner?"
"Newt, do me a favor," Alby said. "Go find Chuck?"
"Alright," Newt nodded, and started heading off to where the younger boy hung around.
He could feel Thomas's gaze. Looking back, he saw Thomas staring at him until Alby grabbed his shoulder and made him face front, continuing the tour.
Newt could've sworn he's seen this boy before.
He looks around the Glade, trying to tell if maybe he just looks like someone else there.
He doesn't.
No one else looks like this boy, Newt decides.
No one else has his exact color hair or his hazel eyes that Newt can read as clear as day, the eyes that bore into Newt's and make him feel like he's something being analyzed.
He could've sworn he's seen this boy before.