Left Behind -Gally-

Chapter 45

Emma's eyelids fluttered. She felt weak, as if her body had been drained of all its energy. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. A groan slipped out of her mouth. In an instant, someone loomed over her. It was blurry, and making out their features was next to impossible. Distantly, she could hear them speaking, but the words weren't clear. Emma felt as if she was underwater, struggling to get to the surface.

A hand touched hers, warm and rough. The person's thumb soothingly rubbed circles against her palm. She blinked a few more times, and the face above her started to clear. It was Newt. His face twisted, an unreadable expression present. "Newt," she struggled to say. Her voice was hoarse, even to her own ears.

"Yeah, it's Newt. You're okay. Take it easy."

Her head rolled to the side. They were in a tent. Emma wasn't sure where. She could see out of the gap in the flap vaguely. A few people were walking around, but the area didn't look familiar. They weren't in the same place.

That's when the memories came rushing back. Finding the Right Arm. Meeting everyone. Feeling safe. WICKED. Teresa betraying them. Minho.

She was shot.

"Hey, hey," Newt noticed her breathing was getting heavier. "You're okay."

Emma glanced back at him. "W-what happened? Where are we?"

"We're safe, for now. We've moved to a different location. We weren't sure if WICKED was going to come back or not." It made sense, but the rest of it didn't.

"Minho?" She remembered him being taken.

Newt shook his head. "They got him."

"Teresa?"

His shoulders dropped. "She went with them."

The feeling of betrayal still lingered, but it was distant compared to the other emotions she felt. Minho was gone. WICKED had found them, destroyed everything. Someone shot her. She had been shot. "How long have I-"

"A week," Newt whispered, already knowing what she was going to ask. "We were starting to think you wouldn't wake up." His voice was shaky. "That we were too late." Emma had lost a lot of blood. Vince was convinced that she wasn't going to make it after three days of her being unresponsive. Newt lifted her hand, bringing it toward him. He rested his forehead against their combined hands. "You really scared us, Em."

Emma blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with everything. It was a lot. "Wh-what happens now? What-"

"Hey, hey." Newt set her hand back down. Carefully, he placed the same hand on her cheek. "Don't worry about that right now, okay? You just need to focus on getting better." His eyes trailed over her face. Emma had tan skin, darker than his, but now it was dull. It wasn't vibrant and didn't glow like it typically did. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lips were ghostly. She looked sick.

She looked like she was still dying.

It terrified him. There were no words to describe how Newt currently felt. Seeing his best friend holding on by a thin thread, knowing there was nothing more he could do for her, was heartbreaking. "Just rest. It'll be okay. You'll be okay." His touch was warm. It was soothing. Emma didn't have the energy to argue with him. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open. It was a battle, a battle she was losing. "Just rest, Em. I'm not going anywhere."

"I thought I was going to die," she whispered, blinks growing longer.

"Me too."

"I wasn't scared," she kept going, saying more than she should. However, this wasn't a conversation her brain would be able to remember anyway. "I thought I'd see him again." Newt stared at her questionably. "I thought I'd see Gally again." With that, her eyes closed. It would be another three days before they opened again, but Newt didn't know that.