Chapter Text
Her fingers squeeze tighter around Gally’s t-shirt, not daring to let go for even a second. The once soft material has long since been drenched from her tears but if he cares he doesn’t say anything; it’s the least of their problems. She buries her face in his chest, breathing in as much of his nutmeg scent as possible. She hopes, if anything, that she presses herself hard enough against him that he can’t hear her sobs— She’s already tried to stop them to no avail, this is the next best thing— right?
Footsteps around them echo angrily, each boot landing harder than the last, as if marching in time to her thundering heart. With each step— each beat— she sinks deeper into his arms. If only she can mold herself to him then perhaps the maze won’t be so bad. She just needs to stay with him. Everything will be fine. It has to be.
“Listen to me, El,” Gally’s voice is low, muffled by her hair so much that she has to swallow her cries to hear him, “you need to listen. They’re coming for me. The same way they did Newt and Minho and Alby. I’m next. I—” he stops for a moment, his hands sliding up her back, pulling lightly at her head so that her eyes meet his glassy, green ones, “Ellie I need you to know that I love you, alright? ‘Cause I don’t know when I’m gonna’ get to say it again.”
Her heart stops, her mouth going dry— he just— what? He pulls her closer, his hand cupping her jaw softly, and she just barely feels the warmth of his skin on hers. She does, though, and, in turn, she furrows her eyebrows. If someone had told her that the first time a boy would utter those words that she would be clinging to him in a dark closet, moments before he gets ripped away from her to meet his possible demise, she would have laughed. Well, no, she probably would have cried— the same way she does when he whispers it again— painful, choking cries. She knows it isn’t supposed to sound cruel but it does anyway. How can it not?
“Ellie did you hear me,” his fingers tangle in her hair, angling her head further, his voice becoming more and more frantic as the footsteps sound closer, “I love you.”
Despite the circumstances— the audience of cleaning supplies and the brigade of guards zeroing in on them and the aforementioned cruelty of life and love— it sounds even better the second time. It sounds a little worse too but she can’t focus on that; there isn’t enough time for both. Her body is numb— weightless, like she’s back in the bathtub back in her old home, floating without a care as if the world isn’t imploding around her. She knows if he lets her go now she will drop like a sack of potatoes, her limbs useless but her heart full. Yes, this is the cruellest experiment yet, that she’s sure of.
Which means the test to come will be nothing like they are imagining— nothing they could have ever truly prepared for.
Ellie nods, her movements jagged as the words finally sink in. “Gally, I—”
Everything in the next moments feels like a blur. Her words are cut short by the door splintering open in an explosion, showering them in a spray of wooden shards. She screams— at least she’s pretty sure she does; she can’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears, like sirens warning her that danger is near. As if she couldn’t have deduced that herself. Maybe it is sirens, though. She can’t be sure of that either.
Blinding light pours in from the hallway, stinging her eyes, and if it weren’t for the two hands still laced in her hair she would have flinched. For a moment she had forgotten how bright the labs are but it’s back now and harsher than ever. Of course, everything here’s done under fluorescence. Nothing’s hidden. Nothing needs to be hidden. Especially not cruelty. Gally jostles in her arms, struggling against the two men tugging on his shoulders, and she explodes.
“Let him go!” she claws at Gally, her hands slipping over his chest, grasping at air as he’s dragged out of the closet and into the sterile hallway.“Please! Take me instead!”
It’s Gally who answers, not the guards. “Ellie, no!”
I’m sorry, Gal.
Against his protests she chases after them, her lab-grade sneakers squeaking off the tiles as Gally fights against the men, throwing his elbow back into the nose of one of the guards. A gush of red spurts onto the floor as the man barks out a feral noise— something akin to a growl but worse— pointing his free hand at her and yelling something that doesn’t quite register in her ears. It was probably a threat— that looks like it hurt.
The seething man bares his teeth at her, the blood running into his open mouth and coating his teeth in crimson. He makes no move to spit it out as it dribbles down his chin, pooling where his hands splay against the floor. He looks like a rabid dog, one constrained by the last glimpses of control, panting as he tries to get to her. He can’t kill them but she’s not blind— she can see that he wants to. That’s enough to make any sane person terrified.
The other man turns towards her, his face contorted, his dull eyes laser focused on hers. Her heart pounds even harder— if she had hackles they would be raised. They can’t hurt her. She repeats it to herself; a mantra most desperate in nature. They need her. They need all of them. It only slightly works.
The guard takes a step forward, his attention falling away from Gally, and Ellie makes a split-second decision that she knows will have Gally at her throat if they come out of this ali— together. If they come out of this together. Get it together, Ellie, no one’s dy—
Mimicking him, she takes a step back, her muscles tight as she tests the impending game of cat and mouse— please work. By some miracle, he follows, countering her movements slowly. Calculated. She takes a few more steps, shoulders drawn so far back they begin to burn but she brushes it off. Come on, don’t look back. Apparently her luck hasn’t run out yet because he doesn’t, he only continues his advance, a predator after his less than willing prey.
Her senses are in overdrive, the sirens back blaring in her ears. I know, I know— danger. When she’s about halfway down the hall, a reasonable distance away from the boy who just confessed his love for her, she glances at Gally quickly. She notes the way he tenses, fists closed at his sides, and— despite the pain shooting through her chest— she nods once. She has to— she won’t let him get caught— even if that means she will be. It’s a small action, one that goes unnoticed by both guards, but he understands what it means.
Run.
She takes one more step, luring the guard further towards her, and then Gally’s moving. Only not in the direction she intends— he isn’t escaping like he should be; he’s charging the guard. No! By the time he notices it’s too late and Gally’s boot is landing hard behind his knees, sending him sprawling to the floor. The crunch his jaw makes as it strikes the linoleum is the stuff of nightmares— all cracking bones and wet snaps— but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it before Gally is grabbing her arm, dragging her down the hall.
“What on earth were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He glares at her from over his shoulder but his eyes betray him— he’s terrified. Of course he is— he’s sane.
Groans sound from the end of the hallway and she pushes her legs harder, trying to keep up with his long strides. They only have a few moments, wasting any of them would be foolish.
“I was trying to help. They can’t—” she sucks in a breath, her lungs burning already— “they can’t hurt me.”
He huffs, tugging her arm harder as they take a sharp left, turning into a replica of the last, sterile hallway. The only indicator that anything has changed is the numbers lining the doors, increasing steadily, and the lack of blood coating the ground. She doesn’t let the cleanliness of this hall give her any false sense of security— it’s all the same lion’s den.
“No, they’ll do worse.” He grinds through his teeth.
This time she’s the one who huffs, wincing at the thud of boots once again not far behind them.
“I don’t care, Gally.”
Gally stops so suddenly that she smashes into him, her body colliding with his larger one. His hand on hers keeps her from dropping to the floor but just barely, catching her too close to the tiles for her liking. She can’t dwell on it— they shouldn’t even have stopped— maybe he isn’t so sane after all. She goes to tell him just as much— to tell him to move— but when she sees his eyes she, too, stops. The usual green is dark and under the bright lights it isn’t hard to see where they’re lined with red. He’s crying— he never cries. Nothing else gives it away, not his stance or the rest of his face.
Not even his voice as he growls out his answer. “I do. I care what happens to you when I’m not here.”
Ellie hears what he says but she doesn’t want to digest the implication of it all— doesn’t want to think about how much she needs him. Perhaps more than W.I.C.K.E.D. needs them.
This is serious.
They won’t die.
He won’t die— but he’s scared.
Will he die?
Will she die— no.
No, no one’s dying.
But they might if they stay here— maybe. God nothing makes sense anymore and there’s not enough time to put the pieces back together. She glances behind them, her heartbeat screaming in her ears. Are you stupid, Ellie, it berates her, run. The pounding of the boots steadily becomes clearer, each step audible enough to count. Have they waited too long?
One, two, three, four— No! There’s no time for this.
She whirls back around, hands gripping Gally’s sleeve. “What are you doing? We need to go!”
Five, six— everything’s happening too quickly, she can’t think!
She can’t breathe. Think or breathe or hear— she can’t hear anything but her heart and the pounding from the other end of the hall. The steps are the soundtrack to their demise, loud and unforgiving and inescapable. Unfair— she feels like a child, barely a teenager but somehow almost an adult— none of this is fair! This can’t be happening. Her vision blurs slightly and she blinks back the fire burning the corners of her eyes. No, no, no. Shouts sound from the end of the hallway and this time she does flinch, her vision refocusing on Gally.
“Ellie, no,” his adam's apple bobs as he swallows— now his voice is beginning to betray him— “you need to go. They’re after me, not you. You need to go, El.”
Alarms— real ones, not just the ones in her head— begin to blare as the futility of the situation finally sinks in. He only calls her El when he wants her attention— when it’s serious. This is serious. There’s nowhere to run. Sooner or later they’re going to get caught— again— and none of this will matter. Serious, serious, this is bad— there she goes again, using childish language, what would Ava say?
Running is childish, Ellie, I thought you were brave? I thought you wanted to help your friends? Your country?
“No—” she grits out and she doesn’t know if she’s answering her memories or Gally— It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter if it’s childish, it doesn’t matter who she’s talking to, it doesn’t matter—
Seven, eight, nine— she forgot about them— time feels wrong. Slow. She can’t think about it now.
“Ellie no!” Gally protests but even so she pulls on his arm, copying the way he shakes his head.
It’s clear what he wants her to do but she can’t— she won’t— she’s not going anywhere without him. Fear pounds on her lungs, knock, knock, knocking on her sternum— stop it, no one’s home! Her heart feels like it’s going to explode— she can’t tell if she’s hearing footsteps or her own blood trying to escape her veins. Toughen up, Ellie, this isn’t the time to give in!
“Gally—” she tries again— her mouth feels like cotton, her tongue like sandpaper.
He presses his lips against her forehead in slow motion— is it slow motion or is she losing her mind?— as the guards, still dripping with blood and foaming at the mouths, clear the corner. Somehow they look worse than before— Gally really did a number on them. He pulls away from her, a soft smile on his lips and a crease between his brows that makes her want to run my fingers over his skin and smooth it away— focus.
But there’s no time— not to comfort him and definitely not to focus.
Ten.
He mouths something as the guards, mere steps away, dive for him— something that looks too much like I’m sorry— she doesn’t like that apologizing to eachother before doing stupid things is their thing— before shoving her forward. She stumbles, noticeably wobblier without him to hold her up, watching for a few seconds as he spars with them again. They seem to have gotten better after the first round, working as a team to hold him down. She watches— still in slow motion— as they pull out a needle filled with bright blue liquid and the scream builds once more in her throat.
Before it has a chance to escape, Gally’s voice, strangled but determined, sounds.
“Ellie, run!”
This time, against everything she stands for— against her name— she listens.