Reunions part III -- Gally

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Hehe hi everyone 👋👋👋

Ok so I know it's been quite a while since I updated this particular story (and my other one that I'm writing at the moment) but I've been having a few issues with school and friendships and all that (gotta love school, right?) so I haven't had much motivation or time or energy to do anything lately. 

However, my school finished just last Friday so now I'm on break! I'll have more time and probably more motivation (*cough* boredom *cough*) so I'll most likely be doing more than I have been lately. 

Anyway, this idea's been floating around in my head for a while now so I decided to write it and yeah... here it is. 

I stand stock still, staring across the room as the guard pulls off his mask, casting it to the side. My head swims, so many emotions and thoughts filling me up until I think I might vomit. I see his lips move, but don't hear anything but the roaring in my ears.

I watch as Thomas hurls himself across the room, tackling Gally and punching him hard in the face. Newt runs forward, catching Thomas's fist before he can strike again and whispering something to the other boy. Thomas gets up, Gally following suit.

"Kinda had that coming. Anyone else?" he asks. "Fry? Newt?" His eyes meet mine, and he freezes.

"We watched you die," I whisper. "How is this possible?"

A muscle in Gally's jaw twitches, and his gaze shifts over my shoulder. "No," he says, "you left me to die. And if we hadn't found you when we did, you'd be dead right now. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Minho," Newt says, "WICKED has him here, we're looking for a way in."

Gally looks at Newt like he's nuts, then turns to Thomas. "I can help with that, follow me."

"We're not going anywhere with you." Thomas's voice is soft, but the words cut through the air like a knife.

"Suit yourself," Gally shrugs, "but I can get you through those walls."

I'm numb the entire time we're walking through the city, the entire time Thomas is talking to Gally's new boss, the entire time they're scouting for a way in, and the entire time they're getting Teresa. It's only after I've had my tag removed and am changing into one of WICKED's uniforms, watching Teresa carefully stitch up the back of Gally's neck that it really sinks in that he's alive, that he's ok and he's right there. 

He gets up, dabbing at the cut with a piece of gauze. He looks around, spotting me where I'm perched on the edge of a crate. Our eyes meet, and I tilt my head slightly to the side, raising an eyebrow. He glances around the room quickly, then crosses over to me.

I shuffle sideways on the crate, making room for him to sit down beside me. "Hi." I say softly.

"Hi," he replies, "been a while."

"I guess." Without thinking, my hand goes to the little square of paper I keep. After Gally died, when Teresa was still friends with me – with all of us, she suggested I write down everything I wanted to tell him. I think she meant temporarily, but I can't bring myself to get rid of the list.

"What's that?" Gally asks.

"It's a list."

"For what? Groceries? Box supplies?"

"Not quite." I pull it out, carefully smoothing it over my knee.

"Is that...?" he peers over my shoulder, brushing a finger over the smears of blood, runny ink, torn edges and deep creases on the list.

"It's kind of old," I say, a little embarrassed by the fact that I've been carrying it with me for over eight months now. "But it's all the things I wanted to say to you and couldn't because you were dead. Or missing, I guess."

"I missed you, (Y/N)." He takes one of my hands in his, leaning forwards to look me in the eyes. "I didn't know where you were, or even if you survived."

"Yeah?" I say, "I watched you throw yourself at a Griever, try to shoot my friend and kill a little kid, then take a spear to the chest. What the hell were you thinking?"

He doesn't say anything, but flinches when I mention Chuck's death. He shakes his head, looking down at our intertwined hands.

"Sorry," I mutter after a minute.

"No," he says, "you're right. I don't know what was going through my head."

"Can we stick together from now on?" I ask, watching his face carefully.

"You still want to be with me, even after...?"

"Yes," I murmur, "yes I do."

"God, I love you, (Y/N)." He whispers, then leans forward and kisses me. It's far from the most comfortable or practical kiss we've shared, but it's everything I've wanted since his death; full of love and passion and warmth – all the things that I adore about Gally.

"We're ok?" I ask when we finally break apart.

"Yeah, we're ok." 

Ok so it's not the best but like... it's alright? 

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