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“I wish it was different.” Thomas’s words land hard, they’re met with only the crashing of waves.
Gally focuses on the sound of the water, on the way in breaks against the bank before receding. Each wave pulls a bit of sand away with it, a destructive force. He wishes he was the sand, slipping back with the waves.
In another life, before the maze, they had been something. Not much, but something. Gally can still feel the phantom touch of Thomas’s hands on his face, the soft scratch of his fingers in his hair, the gentle brush of lips. A first kiss, and apparently a last.
They were just children really. Just playing around. But it could have been something if they’d had the time. Except it couldn’t. Because Thomas worked for WCKD. Because Gally was sent into the maze. They were doomed to end before they could even begin. WCKD may have wiped his memories but there was always the ghost of something, of someone. And then there was the changing. Flashes of this boy he apparently knew, always just out of reach. He remembered asking for help, he remembers the boy not offering any.
Then the boy arrives. A destructive force in the home he had helped build, a wave trying to pull them away. Everything went wrong the second Thomas arrived in the glade, everything gally had built was destroyed, everything he loved was ripped away. There was blood on Gally’s hands, yes, but it was all spilt because of Thomas.
“Sometimes I remember how it was before. Only bits, only flashes of it. It’s not all there, just snapshots that are starting to come back. But I remember you, us. Before the maze and everything tainted us. But every time I try to reach for one of those memories, I see you putting me in the maze. Do you remember that? I was calling for you, it felt like I was drowning in the water, but I called for you.”
“And I just watched.” Thomas finishes.
“I don’t blame you. For working with them. It’s not your fault, they raised you for it.”
“What about everything that happened after?”
“Not for that either. You fought for us. You saved us, we’re here now because of you.”
“And yet.”
Gally nods. “And yet.”
And yet Chuck is still dead, and yet Newt didn’t make it, and yet they can’t go back. Gally doesn’t blame Thomas because he never actually did anything all that wrong. He was just a child; they were all just children. But it still created a chasm between them. There was so much anger, mainly from Gally – he can admit that – and so much sadness. It had nowhere to go so it fell on the ground between them, building up into a wall they cannot climb.
“You used to sit with me at night, when I was stressed or overwhelmed.”
“So all the time?”
Thomas smiles. “Pretty much. We wouldn’t talk, we’d just be there, together. You’d hold my hand to help me sit still. You were always so solidly there, it helped me relax and then I could sleep. And you were always still there in the mornings. Do you remember that?”
“No. I remember you sneaking into our dorm towards the end, though. You used to bring me books you thought I’d like.”
“I remember your hands being soft.”
Gally looks at his scarred and calloused hands. “They aren’t so soft anymore.”
They sit in silence again, remunerating on all the things that had brought them here. Remembering the times they’d had together, remembering the times they’d fought too.
Looking at the space between them, Gally wonders if they’ll ever be able to close it. If they’ll ever get back what WCKD took from them.
Looking back at the waves, Gally agrees. “I wish things were different, too.”