One shot (teen wolf & maze runner)

Gally - Fight

The Glade was alive with its usual hum of activity. The Maze Runners had returned, reporting the same bleak news about the shifting walls and elusive patterns, while the Builders, under Gally's stern command, were reinforcing structures and working on the latest project near the Map Room.

Mae had spent her day tending to the crops, her hands busy but her mind troubled. She'd noticed a change in Gally over the past few weeks-he'd grown more distant, more irritable. It was as if the weight of their predicament had finally begun to crack his steely exterior.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the Glade, Mae sought Gally out. She found him near the Builders' hut, his brow furrowed as he studied a piece of blueprints.

"Gally," she called softly, walking up to him. "We need to talk."

He glanced up, his expression hardening as he saw her. "Can it wait? I'm busy."

"No, it can't," Mae insisted, her voice firmer. "Something's been bothering you, and we need to address it."

Gally sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

Mae took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "You've been distant lately. Angry. It's like you're shutting me out."

"Shutting you out?" Gally's voice rose slightly, his frustration evident. "Mae, I'm doing everything I can to keep everyone safe. Every day, I face the reality that we might never get out of here. Excuse me if I'm a bit preoccupied."

Mae's eyes flashed with hurt and determination. "We're all in this together, Gally. You're not the only one struggling. But pushing me away isn't helping anyone."

Gally's jaw tightened. "You think I don't know that? I have to stay strong for everyone. I can't afford to let my guard down, not even for you."

The words stung, and Mae felt a surge of anger rise within her. "Not even for me? Gally, we're supposed to be a team. We're supposed to support each other. But lately, it feels like you're just using me as another problem to solve."

"Maybe I am," Gally snapped, his voice cold. "Maybe I don't have the energy to deal with your needs on top of everything else."

Mae recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her cry. "If that's how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Gally stared at her, his expression a mix of shock and anger. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"It's not what I want," Mae said, her voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't keep doing this. I can't keep feeling like I'm a burden to you."

Gally looked away, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Maybe it's for the best," he muttered. "Maybe we both need to focus on our responsibilities here."

The finality of his words hit Mae like a physical blow. She stood there, rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. "Goodbye, Gally," she whispered, turning on her heel and walking away, her vision blurred with unshed tears.

The following days were some of the hardest Mae had ever faced in the Glade. She threw herself into her work, tending to the crops with a fervor that bordered on obsession. She avoided Gally, and he seemed content to avoid her as well, their paths never crossing.

The Gladers noticed the tension between them, but no one dared to ask. Whispers followed Mae wherever she went, but she ignored them, focusing solely on her tasks. At night, when the quiet settled over the Glade, she would lie awake, replaying their argument in her mind, wondering if there had been anything she could have said or done differently.

Gally, meanwhile, buried himself in his work, directing the Builders with a ruthless efficiency. But even as he worked, his mind drifted to Mae. Her words haunted him, and he found himself replaying their argument over and over. He knew he had been harsh, that his words had cut deeper than he intended. But his pride kept him from reaching out, from admitting that he had been wrong.

One evening, as Mae was returning from the fields, she saw Gally standing near the edge of the forest, staring into the distance. She hesitated, torn between the urge to walk away and the desire to confront him.

Before she could decide, Gally turned and saw her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Gally took a step towards her, his expression unreadable.

"Mae," he said quietly. "Can we talk?"

Mae's heart ached at the sound of his voice, but she nodded. "Alright."

They walked a short distance away from the others, finding a secluded spot near the wall. Gally took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. "I was wrong to say those things. You were never a burden to me. I was just... scared."

Mae looked at him, her eyes searching his. "Scared of what?"

"Scared of losing you," Gally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself care too much, it would hurt more when something happened to you."

Tears filled Mae's eyes, but this time she let them fall. "I was scared too, Gally. But pushing each other away isn't the answer. We need each other, especially now."

Gally reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. "I don't want to lose you, Mae. I'm sorry for everything."

Mae leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. "I forgive you. But we need to work together, not against each other. Promise me you'll let me in, even when it's hard."

"I promise," Gally whispered, pulling her into his arms.

For a long moment, they stood there, holding each other as the world continued to spin around them. The future was uncertain, the Maze still an insurmountable challenge, but they knew they could face it together.

As the first stars appeared in the sky, Mae and Gally walked back to the center of the Glade, hand in hand. They knew there would be more challenges ahead, more arguments and heartache, but they were willing to fight for each other.

In the Glade, surrounded by walls that seemed impossible to breach, they found a glimmer of hope in their bond. And as long as they had that, they knew they could endure anything.