𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Marshall looks like Dominic Fike #Yasss

Gally's POV:

When I woke up, well let's just say I wished I never had. My eyes snapped open. I was trying to breathe but every time I did a shooting pain hit me on my upper left chest.

"Y/n." I gasped, eyes darting around for her. She was no where to be seen. Vision blurred as my conscious dipped and pivoted. Was I dying again? What was going on?! Why did it hurt so much to breathe?! Where was she?! Where was she?

A shrill beeping noise came from a monitor I was hooked onto. Hating the noise, I tore my IV out, teetering my way out of the cot. The room was plain. Cracks decorated the walls like paintings in motels, shaggy carpet was soft on my bare feet.

Where the hell were my shoes?

Taking a downward glance, my eyes widened. My shoes weren't the only thing that was gone. I had been dressed in grey sweatpants, for some strange reason there was no shirt to accompany them.

I shook my head at the inconvenience, grunting something I didn't even catch under my breath. This was stupid, it was distracting. I needed to find y/n. She must be holed up around here somewhere. Still off my balance, I managed to make my way to the doorframe,

"Y/n!" I slurred, calling their name out, pounding my heavy fist against the door. "Y/n where'd you go?!" I hit the door harder, with a bruising force. No y/n came. Someone else did though.

A guy around my age with skin of a dark golden hue came hurdling through the door, knocking me backwards. I fell against the opposite wall despite the other boy being much shorter.

How'd he do that? I drunkenly wondered, blinking my eyes to take him in.

"Johnny Boy's awake, huh?" A smirk came smack dab in the middle of his face. His hair was a curled bleached blond, he had colored it on purpose. Tattoos scattered themselves across his face.

"Johnny? Who? What?" My brows furrowed at his nonsensical words. "What are you talking about?"

"John Doe." He explained, leering at me like a predator would look at a piece of meat. "That's you, ain't it? The big mystery dude who keeps crying some girls name in his sleep."

I made up my mind. I hated him. That wasn't an impressive feat. I hated most people. I even hated y/n a little when I first met them.

"Where is she?!" I started towards him, taking up a handful of the front of his shirt. Even in my drug riddled body I still had my strength, it made it easy to press him up against the door. "Where the fuck is she?!"

"Hey listen man, I don't know where the hell your little girlfriend is." He remained cool, collected even under literal pressure. "What I do know is that you should be on your knees crying like a little girl and thanking us for saving your sorry ass."

My grip faltered, I let his feet touch the ground again. He still kept me alert, so I never let go of his stupid white shirt.

"Saving? What do you mean my saving?"

"Listen Big Guy," The dark eyed boy gave me a shifty look that twinkled before slipping away like a sly fox, out of my grip. He nimbly stepped back towards the cot, quick on his feet. "When we found you, you were laying on the floor of one of Wicked's labs with spear through you...you kinda looked like a shish kebab."

A spear through me? Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Someone must've thrown it at me when I fired off that gun. Someone with spiky black hair and tanned skin. Someone like Minho!

"Minho." I uttered privately to myself, tenderly touching the place the spear had impaled me. "It was Minho." Something didn't quite sit right with me. What Minho had done made sense, but who the hell were these people and where was y/n? She was just as badly injured as I was, did these people save her too?

"Oh great you talk to yourself too." The boy gave a grin to his own jabbing joke. "I told em I wasn't sure about you. You crazy or somethin'?"

Taking a few steps back, I brought myself onto the bed. As long as I could remember, people had usually always been at least a little intimidated by my frame. If I were sitting maybe the dude would answer some of my questions.

Looking him up and down I realized that I was going to have to swallow a lot of my pride to get y/n back. Why not start with sitting.

"No." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not crazier than you. Who are you anyway?"

"Oh I forgot to introduce myself, my bad Big Guy." He spit on his hand sticking it out to me. This guy really expected me to shake his filthy hand? By the obnoxious look on his face, yup. So I did. Even though the sliminess made me want to hurl I fucking did it. "The name's Marshall but you can call me Marsh. Only my Ma used my full name and she's dead now. I'm one of the newer recruits to the resistance. Lawrence assigned me to take care of you."

"Okay, what's this resistance thing?" Taking back my hand he shook for way to long I rubbed off the saliva on my sweatpants.

"The resistance is our organization that pushes back against Wicked. We're trying to get back immunes, protest against Wicked, and try and infiltrate the Last City." Marsh explained, leaning against the wall. "We're stationed outside the city which is quite valuable because it's basically the home of Wicked's headquarters. Pretty cool, right?"

"Yeah, very cool." I said dryly, no enthusiasm to be found in my voice. "Listen, when you saved me from the lab, did you see a girl next to me? She had been shot, she has a real pretty face."

"Sorry man." He shrugged, taking out a piece of candy and popping it into his mouth. "No hot chick, just you. Was that y/n?"

My ears pricked up at their name, body raising up along with them. How did he know their name?

"How did you know-"

"You've been saying her name in your sleep ever since we fixed you back up." He put a hand on his forehead, mimicking a damsel in distress, mocking me. "Oh y/n, no no no I didn't mean it I swear. Mmh y/n just like that!" Marshall moaned, the sick impression he was doing made my body burn. "Please y/n please forgive me please!"

"Hey!" I shouted, rising off my bed and grabbing for his throat. I took hold, shoving his neck against the wall. "Don't ever do anything like that again, okay. Don't talk about her and me like that, got it? Got it?!"

"Got it." He choked out, clawing at my hands. I let go, letting him breathe again. Like nothing had happened, I sat back down on the bed. "Jesus Christ man chill out, it was just a joke."

"Didn't make me laugh." I grumbled, waiting for him to catch his breath.

"She must be pretty special to you, huh Big Guy."

"She's the only thing I've ever loved. Ever."

"Well there was no girl when we saved you. Wicked must've taken her with them."

"But they were practically dead. Why would they save them."

"Probably for the same reason we saved you. They saw some potential." Marsh rubbed his throat, it was probably achy from when I roughed him up. "Every team needs some muscle, that's why we didn't leave you to die."

"Thanks." I murmured, mind stuck on y/n and where they could be.

Were they alive? There's a chance I suppose because Wicked probably has a million Doctors along with their other million scientists.

"What's your name anyways Big Guy?" Marshall asked, sitting beside me on the cot. "Or do you like John Doe? I could also call you Hot Head or Muscle Man."

"My name is..." My full name is Galileo, like the  one old dude. Everyone always called me Gally and I liked my name, but this was different. Wherever I was, if Wicked went after me, I knew it wasn't safe to outwardly give people my name. So I pulled out another part of my name to use. "My name is Leo. Call me Leo."