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"Together."
One word from Thomas, and Gally thinks his legs might not be able to hold him up any longer. He puts on a brave face, because in a world where death runs alongside you, tracking you, stalking you until it senses weakness, bravery is all he can offer to those around him.
He gives a nod to Thomas, then to Minho, Frypan, Newt, Winston—
The girl. And, reluctantly, Chuck. Gally feels pained by the very thought of the small boy being caught up in all of this, but knows that if there was one person here Thomas would protect, it's Chuck, and Gally trusts Thomas more than he lets on.
Their group is swallowed by the Maze, and Gally has never felt smaller. He's not physically small, having always been the obnoxiously tall guy who seems to think he's smaller than he is — the amount of moonshine glasses he's accidentally knocked over, and people he's mistakenly bumped into, is countless — and so when he looks up to the Maze walls and actively feels them dwarfing his figure, nausea builds in his stomach.
Each step they take forwards means another step away from the Glade. From home. Gally glances back as many times as he can, trying to memorize the way they came. Even so, he has a sinking feeling that he'll never see the Glade again. Fine. He deserves this. He broke the rules.
Thomas' hand reaching out and gripping his arm anchors him, if only briefly. "Focus." Thomas whispers. Yet again, one word, but one word spoken to Gally and Gally alone. Gally holds onto it, shrugging Thomas off to try and mask his dependence on the assurance.
Minho tells them that the Maze has ceased to move after another minute of them all walking along, huddled together shielded from moonlight. Gally closes his eyes and sure enough, he is unable to hear the groaning of stone at all. The same sound that kept him awake for days on end when he first arrived here, now silent.
"Gally." A voice speaks to him, and Gally stops dead in his tracks, realising that they've all paused and just managing to stop himself from bumping into Jeff. Gally looks to the speaker, seeing Minho stood beside him, wary, "Where'd that change of heart come from, shank? I thought this place terrified you, especially after…"
The Changing.
It doesn't have to be said. Hell, it stings just to be reminded of. Gally remembers being sat up on the Medhut bed after waking up, with Minho pacing back and forth across the room, calling him a string of insults. They both know Gally never even gave the Maze a second look after that.
Standing up a little straighter, Gally rips his eyes off of Minho, gaze drifting to another. Minho follows his line of sight. "I broke a rule, Minho. This is what I get."
"Huh," Minho squints at Thomas' back, "you broke a rule, which means you leave the Glade with us and get to see another day?"
"Minho."
"Quit actin' like you've just been banished. We're getting out of the Maze. This is a good thing, Gally." Minho claps him on the back, but through his tone, he comes off more condescending than Gally would have appreciated. Gally doesn't comment on it. He's just glad Minho didn't send a punch of his own at his face after what he did to Thomas.
Thomas sticks his head around a wall, then shrinks back in on himself, staring at everyone worriedly. "Is there a Griever?" Chuck asks, voice timid. Thomas can only give a sad yeah. Hushed murmurs break out between everyone, but Gally is solely focused on the Greenie. How his face is so concentrated, his tongue pinched between his lips and his eyes fixated on nothing.
That is until they find Gally. All at once, Thomas seems so much more sure of himself, and Gally shares this feeling, even daring to stand a little straighter as Thomas gives him a nod. "We charge as one, and we leave as one. Got it?" Thomas is speaking to the group, but his eyes don't roam from Gally once.
Gally knows he is finished when he hangs off every word out of Thomas' mouth, suddenly overcome with devotion towards Thomas' wishes. It's hard to believe that he — the same Keeper so dedicated to breaking Thomas down to fit their norms — is now prepared to dive head first into battle over an escape he never even wanted to begin with.
They are charging before Gally's mind has gone into focus. He yells, picking up someone's fallen spear and driving it into the neck of a griever. Gladers on either side of him copy, all defiant with each breath and step. Weirdly enough, for the first time since he can remember, Gally doesn't feel alone. As if Thomas has read his mind, Gally hears, "We're all in this together, c'mon!" across the commotion, Thomas' voice cutting through massively.
Blood. Whoever's it is, Gally doesn't know, but it splatters on him, already staining his shirt. Grime from the Griever sprays too, coating each boy in rusted dust and muck. And still, each time they think themselves successful, another mechanical monster appears, lumbering towards their group with malice.
Gally cannot stop shaking, for unpleasant memories from the Changing bubble beneath his skin cruelly, taunting him with his cowardice and weakness. Yet, he doesn't back down. Not now. Not after he broke the rules. Especially not with Thomas beside him, shoulders pressed together as they use all their might to shove the attacking Griever a safe distance away.
Thomas is talking to Minho, Gally catches pieces of that. Their conversation is only interrupted as something flies down from above, crushing Minho flat. Gally calls out to him, but what is there to do? Minho is inches from the beast's jaws—
Gally doesn't think his brain processes a thing until the danger subsides. He blinks and he's in a dimly lit hallway, sterile lights buzzing over his head. It's unnatural. It's cold.
He wants to cry, and he's definitely not the only one, but it's not only for the lives they've lost. Homesickness is already polluting his system, his mind and heart yearning to turn back and flee whatever sanctuary they may find out there. The Glade may no longer be safe, the Glade may kill him, but it's his home and the place that has sheltered him for as long as he can remember and it was his haven until.. until Thomas.
Staring at Thomas' back, drenched in sweat, fabric ripped and bloodied, Gally feels no hatred any longer. The venom in his eyes, where has it fleeted to? Instead, the frozen air surrounding Gally's aching body is smoothed over by a blooming inner warmth he definitely should not have. He allows it to absorb him nonetheless.
As they move as a group through the tunnel, an exit sign comes into sight over a door. Frypan speaks, "Seriously?" and despite the bitterness Gally feels toward his life, he almost cracks a smile at Fry.
Thomas opens the door, unease threaded through his muscles as the handle creaks downward. The sight inside is almost as awful as the scenes they have just escaped. Before anyone enters, Gally spies numerous bodies littering the ground. The sight of blood makes him itch as he becomes aware of just how much of the stuff is coating him.
Its Thomas who goes first, who leads them into this secondary stage of misery. They all file in pass a block of glass in the wall, with Minho freezing as he stares through it. Gally follows his eyes, spotting two bodies laid beside each other. He recognises them—
Newt pulls them both away, continuing their walk into the room. Fizzing sparks spray down from the concrete ceiling, and many tables lined with screens and keyboards illuminate the dullness of this strange area. Recognition slaps Gally across the face, more blurred images from the Changing being pushed to the front of his tired mind. He would like to call these images memories, but it feels wrong when he has zero emotion attached to them. Just emptiness.
"You okay?" Someone asks him. He barely acknowledges it.
Thomas triggers a screen across the room, light seeping into the shadows. Gally frowns, eyes falling upon a woman with neatly done hair and eyes that bear through him. All of them drift forwards.
The lady talks. She talks to them. And about things Gally has always known. Just like he prophesied due to the changing, the world outside is not a safe one. Plague, fire, destruction— meaning the Glade truly was a lifeboat in the centre of a raging ocean. Gally looks behind at the door, feet steering him towards it. He barely hears the lady informing them how they are lab rats, and he doesn't hear at all how they are under threat for being immune.
It's like he's being pushed, with his body instinctively moving on its own accord. "Just comply." A voice echoes behind his eyes, frightening Gally to his very core. He is too shaken to fight it. No one notices him leaving their group, every Glader present absorbed completely by the glowing screen.
Gally's body takes him to the door they entered through, but he goes no further.
"This isn't what we wanted." The voice speaks smoothly, no trace of emotion embedded in any word.
"We're free, we're free," Gally murmurs to himself, grating his teeth together, "we're free.." It doesn't seem to matter how many times he repeats those words in his head, as his body moves by itself, crouching and locating something on the ground. Cool and black, weighted in his palm.
Now holding something he knows is dangerous, Gally forces himself to stumble towards the others, praying at least one of them can help him. His footsteps must be loud and uncoordinated enough to be heard over the video, because Thomas turns around slowly, facing him with worry etched into his expression, "Gally?"
"No—" Gally grunts at the realisation, trying to fight against his hand, but it is too late.
He is armed.