Work Text:
"Gally?"
Thomas regretted speaking immediately, especially when he noticed Gally raise an eyebrow in his peripheral vision. They sat here on the edge of the beach most nights, like the insomniacs they were, but never talked. They watched the waves in silence, listening to the shore and the breeze, not each other.
"Hmm?"
Shaking his head, Thomas mumbled, "Nothing. Nothing, forget it."
Gally snorted. "Thank you for that fascinating insight into your brain, Greenie." He leaned forward to stand.
"Do you feel lonely here?" Thomas asked quickly, before Gally could leave.
Even without looking, Thomas saw Gally freeze, then sink back into his previous position. His jaw tensed, eyes fixed straight ahead. "Why?"
Looping his arms around his knees and clasping his wrists, Thomas swallowed nervously. "Just... Everyone's pairing up. Or they've got their one best friend. Or they're... y'know, Frypan and married to the kitchen."
Gally actually cracked a smile when he snorted again. "Keeps him happy."
"Yeah."
Their regular silence settled over them again, listening to the waves crashing in the distance, and Thomas realised he wouldn't get an answer to his question. Although, the absence of an answer, he supposed, was almost as clear an answer as he needed.
Of course Gally was lonely. Thomas watched him on his lone walks, had seen him working silently alongside the other builders, knew how far from everyone else he would sit at dinner. Even if no one else was actively making him feel that way, Gally was imposing loneless upon himself.
Huffing a sigh through his nose, Gally leaned forward and pushed himself to his feet. "These nights make me feel less alone," he said quietly, then turned and headed back to his cabin, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Thomas turned to watch him go, something cold and heavy settling in his stomach. Like maybe he had ruined something. And perhaps he had, because unlike every other night he and Gally had sat together silently on the edge of the beach, this time Thomas watched the sunrise alone.
The next two nights, Thomas was by himself, this toes buried in the sand and a ball of regret slowly twisting itself in his chest.
After lunch, Thomas went looking. There was no sign of Gally along his usual walking path, and he was suspiciously absent from the building site. When Thomas had asked one of the other builders, he had pointed Thomas in the direction of the workshop.
Before Thomas had been able to leave, the builder had quickly added, "Can you make sure he's okay? He doesn't normally disappear like this. We're worried about him."
Thomas walked with a stable warmth in his gut. He wondered if Gally had any idea his coworkers cared enough to worry. Then another thought occurred; maybe Gally didn't realise that there were people here in Safe Haven that would readily call themselves his friends, if only he would let them in.
Giving a short knock on the workshop door, Thomas poked his head inside. He found Gally on his knees, sanding down a bedframe in the middle of the space. "Gally?"
With a huff that could easily have been mistaken for effort as he worked, Gally grunted, "Greenie."
Thomas stepped inside and closed the door, Gally never lifting his head from his work. "The other builders are starting to worry about you."
A snort. "I'm fine."
Chewing his lip as he considered his next words, Thomas tried to keep his voice casual as he commented, "Missed you the past couple nights."
Gally just kept sanding. "Sure." He shifted to reach the next section of the bedframe, keeping his eyes deliberately away from Thomas.
"You okay?" Thomas asked, watching Gally's shoulders tense.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Taking a few steps into the room, Thomas sighed, "You said sitting together made you feel less alone."
Gally finally stopped sanding, but didn't move. "Guess I did," he muttered.
"Do you mean that?"
Clearing his throat, Gally resumed his sanding and stayed silent.
"Gal." Thomas moved to sit on the floor beside him. "Gally."
"What?" Gally huffed, slamming down his sanding block and glaring at Thomas.
"If you feel less alone sitting with me, why'd you starting hiding from everyone after you said it?"
Gally flicked his eyes back to the bedframe, thumbing across the wood as if he were checking for splinters. "Been waiting for you to tell everyone how pathetic I am," he mumbled.
"Why... would I do that...?" Thomas frowned.
Pressing his thumb under a snag in the wood, Gally muttered, "Because you hate me."
Breathing a laugh, Thomas asked, "You think I still hate you? Gally, what about the past six months has made you think I hate you?" Eyeing Gally's face, a wave of horror washed through Thomas. "Wait..."
"Don't you have shit to do, Greenie?" Gally huffed, shoving himself to his feet and stomping over to his workbench.
"Not until you talk to me."
Gally made a frustrated noise, pressing his palms flat against the bench. "Why you gotta be like this?" he snapped, shooting Thomas another glare. "Why couldn't you just leave it the way it was?"
Still sitting on the floor, Thomas folded his arms and shrugged, "Never been very good at leaving things how they were."
"Yeah, no shit." Gally hung his head, huffing out a long sigh. He just stood for a while, incredibly still but for his steady breathing. "Yes, I mean it," he muttered eventually, his arms and back tense.
Thomas nodded, though Gally still had his back to him. "Okay. I'll see you tonight, then," he said certainly, climbing to his feet. "And maybe make an appearance at the build site, yeah? Let the others know you're still alive." Without waiting for an answer, he headed back out into the settlement, wiping his palms on his pants and ignoring his racing heart.
Sitting alone on the edge of the beach, Thomas gazed out at the inky water washing over the sand under the moonlight. An awful feeling chewed at his stomach; it was late, and Gally wasn't here. It had been months since he had cried in this spot, the wounds of their losses having finally healed to a fond ache. But tonight, feet in the sand and the space beside him empty, he let a few tears fall, that ever-present solitude crushing down on his shoulders.
He wasn't searching for it. While Gally sought his time alone, Thomas wanted to be around others. Every second he had spare, he was sitting in the kitchen with Frypan, or jogging with Minho, or sorting provisions with Vince. He didn't like being alone, despite outward appearances. The only reason he had taken to sitting here at all was because Gally started doing it first.
Of all things, Thomas just wished he could sleep. If he were asleep right now, he wouldn't have to feel like this. Is it really solitude if your dreams are full of people? He didn't even fear nightmares anymore; his brain just didn't know how to shut off.
So instead, he was sitting by the beach, his feet soaking up the last of the day's warmth retained by the sand, leaning his forehead against his knees and sniffling into his own chest.
Just as the first fingers of dawn crept up over the horizon, Thomas heard footsteps approaching, clearly trying to be softer than they were capable. He felt a warm presence beside him, radiating heat and taking the chill from Thomas' skin.
"Didn't think when you asked if I was lonely... that maybe that was your backwards way of telling me you felt lonely."
Sniffing back his tears, Thomas kept his head down, a warmth of his own spreading across his cheeks. "Maybe you're just stupid," he mumbled, internally cursing his voice for wobbling.
A snort. "Sure. I'm the one that's stupid."
Thomas didn't lift his head. "Shut up, Gally."
After a moment, Gally shifted closer so their sides pressed together. "I'm not the one who brought talking into this, Greenie," he pointed out, but his tone was low and calm.
"Guess not," Thomas whispered. With a final sniff, he slowly sat up, then swallowed his nerves and leaned his head on Gally's shoulder. "M'so tired..."
"Yeah," Gally agreed softly. He tipped his head to lean his cheek on Thomas' hair. "Me too, Greenie." After a short silence, he whispered, "Sorry I left you out here."
Thomas just shook his head slightly. He relaxed into Gally's side, soaking in his warmth and breathing the smell of sawdust on his clothes. Something in his chest tugged pleasantly when Gally turned his head and buried his nose in his hair.
And if Minho found them a few hours later, leaning together and fast asleep, he certainly didn't say anything. He may have smirked, though.