Word Count: 4.5k. Notes: I can tag if someone was interested in that.
Summary: Gally isn't interested in sharing you especially not with those he doesn't trust.
You couldn't remember the last time you had gone into the city. It had been dangerous for a mother hiding her child to stay there, sometimes more so than living amongst poverty and chaos on the other side of the wall. Lawrence appreciated that you had survival skills from a high-stress upbringing and immunity which meant that he granted you his army's protection so that in return you cared for them whether that was doing their washing, cooking their meals, sewing bandages, stitching clothes, or whatever else they might request. You had never before been told to join any of the rebels on a recon mission on the other side of the wall.
Gally said to stay close, but act normal - like you were supposed to be there. To help conceal your identity, you had on a paper medical mask while Gally wore his nearly permanent scowl as armor.
In awe of the cleanliness, thriving trees, and functioning infrastructure, you stared with widening eyes behaving like lenses as your head darted around in an attempt to mentally store everything in front of you. Without the intended subtlety, Gally knocked his shoulder against yours to pull you from your trance.
“You got to look like you live here.” He hissed while watching the crosswalk. “Nobody who lives here is staring at what they got in awe.”
Gally was right and it fixed a scowl that matched his under your mask. These people had clean air, freedom, and sovereignty and they didn't even stop to breathe it in. You would have seethed with anger had the light not changed and Gally bent his head to the side, silently instructing you to follow along.
Oftentimes, at night, when everyone was pretending to relax, Gally would wait for you to finish cleaning up and walk you “home”. Since you had single-handedly kept his spear wound clean from infection, there had been plenty of alone time to pull each other out of your respective shells. Granted, his seemed to have been made from steel while yours was a thick canvas. Usually, he would walk back alone to where he stayed, but after a couple close violent calls and one time where he accidentally just fell asleep, he became a common fixture in your secret world. He would tell you about Chuck while trying to keep tears from his eyes. You would tell him about your mother and how she worked tirelessly to keep you both together even joining a brothel in order to hide you there as a child (and make a living). If he saw the unwarranted shame in your eyes, Gally never said so. He asked you about living in the streets and you, in return, asked about the Glade. He was the closest thing you had to a real friend.
“Hey, I wanted to show you this.” Gally moved toward a newsstand where a man with hair only his face and none on his head sold coffee, candy, and other goods. You were distracted by beautiful women on the covers of magazines and didn't see Gally pull a crumpled bill from his pants. Maybe, he had pickpocketed in the crowd or Lawrence gave it to him. It felt impolite to ask. Grumbling, he argued back and forth with the vendor before giving him the money and then taking a green fruit in return.
“Here.” He handed it to you. A pear. With one finger, you removed the mask from your right ear and took a bite as you two walked. “It's the freshest thing I've ever tried. I wanted to take you there.” He said like it wasn't kind or sweet, which it was, but instead like it was something someone would rattle off when they shake a rock from their shoe.
The juice brought your mouth to life as soon as you took a bite. A little liquid nearly escaped the corner of your lips, but you sucked it back in. If you looked like a deer in the headlights at the sight of the city, you were sure you looked obscene now.
“Right?” Gally laughed as he looked behind himself at you.
“Here you have some.” You held it up to him, but he shook his head. He had only had enough for one and he wanted you to experience it.
“This is WCKD.” Gally stopped abruptly, holding out his arm so that you wouldn't move any further either. For safety, he kept a road between you both and the building. “We can't exactly just walk in, but I've been keeping track of how many guards are at the front at what times and how many are patrolling the grounds. It's been changing lately”
Pear to your lips, you counted six, but that was just at the front entrance. Maybe, some in civilian clothes were also security. Gally put a hand on your back, flat and large, but just as you looked at him, he took it back.
“I'm going to do a walk around. Stay here. Don't talk to anyone. Try to keep track of what guards change and what direction they go.” He didn't jog off completely until you nodded that you understood. They were simple instructions.
As you ate, you walked a few steps backwards to a bench where you could stare at WCKD without seeming obviously malintentioned. In order to use it as a napkin for your sticky fingers, you removed the mask from your ear, but never took your studious stare from the building.
“You're making that pear look very good.” A voice, confident and sophisticated, broke through the serenity and you slowly turned your head like a prey might check on how close a jackal was. He was slim, shorter than Gally, but not small, and wore an eerie smile that seemed to radiate through his eyes and suggest that he had never been wrong once in his life.
“It is really good.” Gally had said not to talk to anyone, but he did also mention to act like you belonged.
“May I?” He reached out his hand and you two silently engaged in a conversation you didn't understand with just your eyes. Eventually, you gave him the pear and watched as he took a large indulgent bite, returning it to you with barely any flesh left juice running down his chin and hitting the pavement between his leather shoes. “Thank you.” Once he had swallowed, he sat beside you and followed your gaze at the building. “See anything interesting?”
This felt dangerous so you didn't speak. You just shook your head so softly that it could have been missed if he wasn't keeping watch through his peripheral.
“Don't you have somewhere better to be on a Saturday morning?” The man was researching you in the same manner you had been researching WCKD headquarters except there was no road to keep you safe. All he had to do was lift his hand from his pants leg and he could do anything he wanted to you.
“No.” The uneasy feeling that came on when you first heard the man’s voice had not subsided in the slightest and yet you told him the truth. This was the best place for you to be right now. This helped your cause. Of course, he didn’t need to know that.
“Sounds like you could use a hobby.” He mused, a cruelty wet in his throat even though he accessorized it with an expensive smile. “Or a job then. Do you live around here?”
You had no idea where Gally went. He knew how to be sneaky and go unseen in the city whereas you, evidently, stuck out like a sore thumb. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself, I want to go home.
The man was peering down at you, salt and pepper hair barely moving with the small breeze that blew your hair directly in your face, “Off Third Street.” You made up on the spot. On the way over to the building, you saw a fourth street which led you to believe there had to be a third.
He was wordless and you internally panicked that your lie hadn’t made sense. Maybe, the city only used even numbers or third street was a block without any residences. Suddenly, you wished he would say something. Gally had told you to keep track of the guards so you focused on the doors of the building, watching as one masked man brought a walkie talkie to his mouth and then patted the guard to his left, subsequently releasing him.
“I'm Janson. I work there.” His hand came in front of your face, waiting for you to shake it as he nodded toward WCKD. Eyes wide, you devoured him with a blank stare purposefully draining it from the stress that was making your heart race. Janson took the hand and put his hand down and began to stand. He looked over to his place of work and then back to you. “This is where you tell me your name.”
You tried to think of what Gally would do in this situation, but you knew that Gally would never put himself in this situation. You went through a list of names, thinking of your mother, and then decided to tell him your nickname.
“______” Janson repeated it as if he was considering its taste. He must have seen your attention go past him, a little to the left. Gally appeared with a confused expression directed at you. It was practically shrieking.
“Do you know him?” Janson asked. He wasn’t listening, he was studying.
“No.” Shaking your head, you finally gave him a quick response. “I don't know anyone around here. What about a job? You were saying I need a job.” It felt prudent to make it so Gally could go undetected again. He was loitering, trying to read you, but you swatted your hand in the air as if there was a fly only you could see in front of your nose. It was supposed to be a signal to scram and, thankfully, Gally understood.
“A pretty girl like you is vulnerable. You should find something to occupy your time.” Janson advised and finally started to move away, over to the crosswalk that would lead him to his evil business. You imagined him laughing manically inside and making potions and robots that could rule the world. Of course, he could have just been some marketing employee trying to make a living. “There’s a beauty school on Milton.” He patronized. “Can you answer a phone and make coffee?” He pulled out his phone and checked the screen, thinking aloud passively. “They need a front receptionist downstairs. I don’t know what happened to the last one. It doesn’t require much.”
Behind you, Gally was waiting with his back against a cement column and his head on a swivel. On the bench, you watched guards become more alert and adjust their stance to have their long legs further apart by an inch more or so. Janson had just presented you with an opportunity. The Red Army had been trying to figure out how to enter WCKD for ages and all you had done was let a man eat your beloved pear. Through the large glass windows of the reception area of WCKED. Three impeccably dressed women were behind a long desk and glossy red and pink smiles, answering phones and glowing angelically under crystal ceiling light. You hadn’t let yourself imagine a dress as bright as the girl on the end had on, a vibrant yellow that rivalled the sun for its allure.
Janson turned around and whistled for your attention, yanking you out of your dangerous daydream.
“Are you going to come? Opportunities don’t just fall out of the sky!”
Thinking fast on what you should do, you stood to your feet and wiped at the front of your pants.
“I am not really dressed for a job interview.” Something was pulling you back.
“All the more reason to take it!” He eyes the tight maroon top you were wearing, signs of its age around the neckline.
You were starting to walk away from the bench, sneak away with Gally, and then swear off ever coming along on a recon mission or anything that would bring you into the mouth of the city ever again. The lights changed and Janson began to slowly walk toward WCKD and, surprising both you and Gally, you followed.
Janson grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he heard your feet behind him. A guard opened the door for him and you knew immediately he was important. He called for Ida, one of the women at the desk, and said you were there for an interview, that he had recruited you himself before walking directly into an elevator.
* * *
Retracing your steps from when you snuck into the city with Gally took longer than you had expected. The young member of the rebellion was right, the exterior beauty of Last City was distracting you. It meant turning too soon and being there after curfew. Members of the army considered you to be clever, not a bruiser or injured. You were a survivor. You were embarrassed that tall buildings and fresh fruit had impressed you with ease.
Up the ladder that was slick as the tunnel was dark, the sound of the curfew bell from miles ago still had your nerves shot. A few knocks on the lid that concealed your return home was all it took for it to be opened. There was no time to adjust to the new light, two hands reached in and pulled you out by the upper arms.
It was Gally, equal parts furious and relieved. His boots scuffed against the ground as he pulled you in a hug that surprised everyone around including himself.
“What happened? I told you not to talk to anyone.” His tone was livid, but both his hands were frisking down your arms and then around your waist, checking for signs that you were unharmed.
“I know.”
“I waited for as long as I could - I should have - “ Gally tried to explain himself. Lawrence had said for Gally to be back before sundown, likely a rule due to bringing someone as inexperienced as you or a punishment because he was reckless a trip before - finding a place to lay back and admire the city lights. Gally hadn’t wanted to leave you, but he also couldn't lose the community and purpose he found with the rebellion.
“I'm really sorry.” Genuinely, you swore and watched Gally deflate, shoulder slumped and finally allowing himself to exhale. You were safe in front of him.
“I'm glad you're alright.” He swallowed around the tightness in his throat and told you calmly before leading you away. “Lawrence wants to talk to you. He's not happy.” Gally warned and took you to the leader of the rebellion, bending down under a curtain of throw blankets. He caught the attention of Lawrence and stepped to the side to reveal you were back before Lawrence dismissed him with a Grandpa smile and confident wave of his hand.
Gally only went out of sight, knowing what half wall to stand behind to listen. He was loyal to Lawrence, but the man was half crank. He could be unpredictable and without sense from time to time. Besides, terrifying ideas of what could happen to you between the walls of WCKD or just lost in the city hadn’t yet stopped in Gally's mind. He had to keep telling his brain to shut up as the same two thoughts teasing him: “Anyone else would have kissed her by now.” and “What if I lose her, too?” No, Gally was not ready to lose you again even if just for fifteen minutes.
Lawrence began cordially, pouring himself something to drink and paying most of his attention to the silver cup, “What did you think of the city?”
“Excess everywhere. Like you have always said.” You were inclined to tell him what you thought he would want to hear. Lawrence would likely not warm to you if you told him that you sniffed a bouquet of roses that smelled so sweet it made your molars hurt. He likely wouldn't be amused by how fresh you found the fruit to be. “It was upsetting.” A whole city of people who could make life easier, better for everyone else and simply chose not to.
“And yet you barely returned to us, huh?” He mused before taking a long sip, sighing once the sting of the liquid hit. Your mouth was open, but words hadn't even come to your throat. Thankfully, Lawrence's question was rhetorical. “Poor Gally, first time he gets to take a girl out and she ditches him for WCKD.” He laughed, actually amused, but his eyes pinned you to the wall like a memo too important to lose.
Behind the wall, arms pressed to the warm and chipped concrete, Gally rolled his eyes. Today hadn't gone exactly how he hoped. He hadn't had the chance to tell you that you meant a lot to him and that he wanted to stay at your “place” every night. He had assumed you two would do some recon, take today's count of exterior guards, and then run around the city together. He would take you to his favorite vantage points with stunning views of greenery and even through Albright Parc where he would pluck a pale yellow primrose for you out of the garden to take back and dry the petals in your journal for a memory. Instead, you went into WCKD with a guy who set off a hundred alarm bells in Gally's head.
“I was invited to go into WCKD by Janson,” That had both Lawrence and Gally's attention, plus the other member of the army loitering around. “He is pretty high up there. Works closely with Ava Page.” Ida at the front desk had told you that while explaining that Janson likely saw you as attractive and vulnerable. It was why he brought you in.
“We've been trying to sneak into that place for years and you walk through the front door, invited by the second in command.” He was giddy, snickering to himself while fiddling his fingers anxiously in front of his decaying face. “What did you two talk about?” After another sip, Lawrence put down his cup and then eagerly leaned forward to hear more. His plan to ream you out had vanished from what was left of his mind.
“He just dropped me off at reception. He said there is a vacancy at the desk.’
“And you're going to fill it.” It was an order. His tone didn't change, but Lawrence stood up straighter and sounded so quiet, but confident.
Charging out from behind the wall, Gally was talking long before you nor Lawrence spotted him. He had one hand flexed into a fist, fury holding his face hostage.
“Over my dead body!” Lawrence gave Gally a second chance at life. He respected him and was loyal, but having a punctured lung hadn't altered anything about Gally besides his ability to breathe easy. He was not going to stay quiet when he felt passionately about something. “Janson has tpo much power. That's a suicide mission.”
“Stand down, Gally.” Gently, Lawrence warned the young soldier.
“I saw him talking to her. It was predatory. For all we know, he knows she's affiliated with us. He could be luring you to him. I don't like any of them, but they aren't stupid!”
“Gally-”
“Ida said the job is mine if I want it because what Janson says goes. It's just Mondays and Fridays that they need coverage. I wouldn't have access to much more than the mail room and the coffee machine.” You would still be free to work bloodstains and sweatmarks from their clothes. Your focus left Lawrence just to check on Gally, his chest rising and falling like a rollercoaster cart. His eyes glaring a hole at the table in front of his leader as he tried to listen to you over the tantrum in his head.
“It's an in.” Lawrence explained to his team including Gally.
“It's real risky.” Gally continued, unmoved.”.
“She said I have to dress appropriately and I don't have anything.” Arms out and shoulders to your ears, you shrugged. This was your best shirt.
“Well, there you go, too bad. We'll have to keep memorizing the guard schedule.” Gally summed up for everyone.
A heavy silence slipped into the room like a ghost, a prelude to news that would change everything. Lawrence embraced it, striding around the table and picking up his cup again. He walked right by Gally without so much as a glance and over to you.
“I'm very proud of you, ________. This won't be easy. You're going to have to be careful and report back to me after every shift.” He was sizing you up, seemingly trying to figure out how to best use you in order to own the upperhand. “If Janson wants you to bring him a coffee, memorize his office, which direction his window faces. If there is an after work party, you attend.”
“Yes, sir.” You agreed, Gally's breathing starting to sound as if he was attempting to breathe fire. “I'll need papers, documents that make it seem like I'm a citizen of their utopia.”
“You leave that to me.” From one of the holes in his nose, a whistle came out of Lawrence as he sharply inhaled. He couldn't believe he had never considered this idea before. “Gally, boy, if you're so concerned about it, you escort her there every Monday and Friday and bring her home.” Lawrence raised his hand to summon Gally's attention (though he instantly had everyone's). “Tomorrow, take her to the brothel. They'll have some clothes she can use.” Lawrence was finished, but he pat your cheek with his palm and whispered, again, that he was so proud of you.
Behind him, their steps loud and not all uniform, two rebels followed and it was just you and Gally in the open space, but all you felt was his stress. It seemed like disappointment and you supposed that you deserved it.
“You should have lied.” Gally yelled, turning away from you and busying his hands touching blanket walls as he passed them. “You should have told him nothing happened. Did something happen? Did that creep touch you?” Gally shook out his arms at the thought.
“No. I didn't even see Jansen after he left me at reception. He went to the 21st floor.” Information they hadn't had before, but you saw him press the elevator button. “And if you didn't want Lawrence to know, why did you tell him I went in?”
“I said someone at WCKD took you inside. He needed to know that much. What if they interrogated you and…?” Gally was talking so quickly that he didn't stop himself in time. His tongue got carried away.
“And I compromised the cause? Gee, thanks.”
He dragged the toe of his boot in front of him in a line, dust kicking up and glowing under the dim lamp light.
“Gally, what did Lawrence mean when he said taking a girl out…”
Gally's embarrassment felt large enough for him to climb inside of and hide, but he knew he couldn't do that forever. You healed people, you cared too much to let anything go. It was through being so diligent about his stab wound that you two became as close as you were. He couldn't keep how he was feeling away from you for long, especially not when he was starting to feel helpless to them - something he loathed.
“Is that why he let me come with you today?”
“He said he noticed that we…” Why was this so hard to talk about? Five different shades of red met in the center of Gally's face. “He said that we wouldn't have a lot of chances to have, like, a normal…nice…” He sucked at this and wished so badly that someone else would charge in and end the conversation. “I wanted to take you to this park. I wanted to show you…” Putting him out of his misery, you came up right behind him and clasped one of your hands on each of his.
“I'm sorry I didn't get to go there with you.” Against his back, you pressed your cheek in as he lifted your hands up and hugged himself. “Sometimes, when I'm kind of starting to fall asleep, you hold my hand.” His desire to duck into a black hole and never return. He thought he had been sneaky. “I really like it.” You admitted and Gally poked his head out of his pretend shell. Letting go of your hands, he finally turned around to face you. “The pear was great, but it was perfect because you gave it to me.”
His brooding and tough skin shed and he let you see his tissue soft heart on the outside for a second as a sheepish smile accepted the compliment.
“I'm scared about going to WCKD, but it's not so bad knowing I'm going to come home to you -”
“With me.” He corrected, three of his fingers dipping into one of your pants pockets and urging you closer.
“Yes, with you. This could be really good.”
He didn't know if you were referring to you infiltrating WCKD or being with him, but he didn't clarify either. He just adored you in the shadows, finally calming down from an exhausting day.
As soon as you stepped foot out of Lawrence's den, sometimes called his “war room”, Gally halted. He tugged you back by the hand. He wanted to go back to your place. He wanted to rest. He wanted to have you right by his side.
“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted the stillness and let you into his brain. Today, he had been nervous about having you and all night, he had been scared to lose you. As soon as you said ‘yes’, Gally leaned down and hoped for the best. He pushed his mouth against yours, making a guess at how to kiss. He had seen a perfume ad on one of the screens in the main square or the Last City and he tried to copy the male model in it, snaking a hand up your neck to your jaw until his fingertips met your ear. Your chest was leaning into his which he took as a good sign and you reached up to move his head, adjusting him slightly which he welcomed.
“That okay?” Gally checked. He wanted to know more than he wanted you to see him as macho.
“You're even better than the pear. And I really liked the pear.” You promised and walked hand in hand with him back to where you lived. Neither of you knew what was coming, but the feeling of unavoidable change was hard to ignore.
Most people hate Gally, from what I've seen. But I think Gally is just afraid of the Glade's order being disrupted and everything falling apart and being destroyed. He was just wants to keep everyone together.
Reader is an older immune, think >=24; not a prisoner, not an accomplice, but a secret third thing (just there, lmao [reader was over on the bench!]). Almost might take place before the events of The Scorch Trials, possibly Maze Runner itself idk.
**
A gray sweatshirt hangs from his hand.
"Take it."
His eyes flicker at you quickly before going back to... whatever it is he occupies himself with.
Janson is strange; you can't quite get a read on him. You don't trust him, not completely, but still, you find yourself seeking him out. There's moments where his good deeds seem genuine, moments where it is clear it's misleading, and moments when the leashed rabid dog comes out to play (that part is terrifying).
Your fingers close around the softer than expected fabric, tugging it over your head. It fits nice, just right kind of loose while being snug enough that you don't feel like it's losing its purpose.
"Thank you," you murmer, still hovering, still absentmindedly gazing out the window of the building. The view outside is a stunning blue, the sky shimmering like the dark blue of the Atlantic.
"What are you staring at?"
Maybe in a different world, such a sudden break of the silence would have normally startled someone, but seldom is anyone totally at ease in the world you live in, and seldom are you not able to sense Janson's presence. You glance at him, finding his eyes moving between you and the world outside.
"You don't stop long enough to look, Janson."
"Really?" He steps closer to you, nearly boxing you in against the work table, but there's just enough room you could side-step him if need be. "And how would you know what I spend my time looking at?"
"You've lost all whimsy," you state, voice serious, but eyes light. The corners of his lips quirk upwards quickly for a split second, his eyes flicking down before returning to meet yours.
Sliding his finger under your chin, he raises your face upwards.
"This whimsical enough for you?"
You can feel the smirk against your lips like you can suddenly identify the smell of the sweatshirt you're wearing. His left hand circles you, where each of his fingers burn into your back, not quite holding you down, but with pressure hard enough to make it clear exactly who you're with.
He pulls away, watching as your eyes open slowly, not even hiding the half-baked smirk on his lips. Yet, there's something in his eyes that's softer, more fond, and it's meant only for you.
His right hand drops from under your chin, but his left still presses into the sweatshirt, keeping you close. Standing on the tip of your toes, you press your lips to the corner of his before stepping away, his hand falling from your back.
The radio beeps to life, reminding you of the strangeness of the reality you live in, and you move towards the door. He growls, snatching the walkie up from his hip, eyes never waivering from your disappearing form until he's forced back into the job.
