| The Rejected | The Maze Runner; Gally Fic [x reader ver.]

|chapter•seventeen|

After hours of enduring the pain on his body with a smile, (M/n) had managed to sneak into the med room with a pretty good excuse, searching around for the cream Newt told him about, until he found it in the bathroom cabinet where the temperature tended to be lower.

He closed the door and locked it after making sure he was alone, and he took his shirt off, staring at his reflection, a frown appeared on his face when he saw the big purple bruises on his body, mostly around his ribs and lower abdomen, a few of them going down to his thighs and up his chest. He couldn't really check his back, but a bit of the bruise he saw was pretty ugly too.

He sighed and opened the container in his hand, applying some of the cream gently over the bruises, the cold feeling on his heated skin made him shiver, flinching as his muscles contracted, causing him more pain. (M/n) took a deep breath, the pain in his ribs almost fully gone, so at least he knew they weren't broken or anything, and he continued smearing the cream on the bigger and darker bruises he could reach.

Sighing when he was done, he closed the cream and put his shirt back on, leaving everything how it was before he walked in and he unlocked the door, heading out of the med room in complete silence.

And when he stepped out of the Homestead, Stan was conveniently about to walk in.

"Oh~, hey there, she-bean," he chuckled and stopped walking, finding it amusing how (M/n) stopped and flinched when he saw him, instinctively covering his abdomen with his arms, "I'm looking forward to our little fight," Stan smirked and walked past him, purposefully patting his back harder than need, making him grit his teeth and close his eyes at the pain he felt surging through his body.

Stan even had the audacity to look worried, clearly enjoying his pain.

"Oh no, you can't handle a small tap? Maybe you should give up the fight, clearly you're not tough enough for that," (M/n) took a deep breath and turned around to face Stan once again.

"I don't care about the little tricks you pulled," he muttered with a cold tone, looking into his hazel eyes with a death stare, "But you're gonna regret this, Stan."

And like that, he left.

Stan's jaw clenched and his fists closed tightly on either side of his body, "Shucking bitch..." He mumbled under his breath before racing up the stairs to his room.

(M/n) didn't know where he was going, he was walking aimlessly, unaware of his surroundings while his mind ran a hundred miles an hour. He knew Stan was the cause of all of this, he didn't even try to hide it, and even though he wanted to believe Stan was better than that, he was wrong to have hope of someone like him being "good". He was a good-for-nothing like Gally likes to say, and for the first time, (M/n) agreed.

He no longer cared about the pain his body was feeling, he felt almost numb as his conscience planned and skimmed the best way to hand Stan's ass over to him. He was going to wipe the ground with him, one way or another.

//////

Roughly two hours went by when a bonfire was being lit up as the sun began setting, the fighting circle was prepared and the Maze Doors had closed for the night.

With a heavy sigh, (M/n) started making his way there, heavy silence fell in the Glade when he stepped inside the circle, feeling the sand under his bare feet, more and more people slowly making their appearance. He briefly made eye contact with Fry and Jim, who were by the outdoor grill, getting ready to cook some meat for everyone, tables and chairs were taken outside, and logs were placed around just to watch the fight while filling their stomachs.

Gally stood outside the circle, arms crossed as he looked at (M/n), who showed him a tiny smile, one that he responded with a smile back, but it soon turned into a frown when he looked to the side. (M/n) saw Stan approaching, directly in front of him, and a group of guys cheering him on, hyping him up, effectively making (M/n) roll his eyes in irritation.