Gally had tried.

Gally had tried, so many times, to describe the things he saw in his mind since the agony of the changing had ripped a hole through whatever it was that had kept his memories from him. Against his own volition, his throat would close up, his head would spin, his world would shift beneath his feet, his own hands had even turned against him for his troubles. It had hurt but he had tried his best, despite himself, to no avail. He would never be able to talk about what he had seen. He was trapped, not only inside the Maze, but inside his own mind. He hated the people who did this to him as much as he was grateful for being kept away from the horrors of the world. It was a feeling that confused him so he tried his best not to think about it.

For so long, Gally had felt terrifyingly bitter towards the ones who couldn't remember. They were lucky and yet all they would talk about was what the world might be like outside, their families, how they got here, why they were there. Gally knew. He had the answers they so desperately wanted, though he would never be able to tell them. It made him angry. So angry and so frustrated, that he buried himself in work, investing in the life he had in the Glade. To make the most of it while it lasted.

The others didn't understand - and how could they? All they saw was an angry boy and eventually, they started to veer away from his despair. He saw the way they looked at him, the sneers and judging whispers. Maybe he shouldn't have yelled at them - it certainly didn't help. Something had snapped inside him that day and Gally had let slip just how hopeless and angry he was. They didn't understand and he could never make them understand so eventually, he just stopped trying. If most of them steered clear after that? Well, that was fine. Most days, he wasn't sure he would tell them if he could anyway. They were better off not knowing.

But not today.

As the boy squinting in the metal cage below him lowered his arm to find the faces staring down at him, Gally felt the foundations of his new life crack beneath him. He outwardly suppressed his horror with practiced ease but inside he felt like screaming, like lashing out in a rage. Flashes of images that had plagued his nightmares for too many days to count, flickered across his vision like an old movie. He knew this boy.

His mind reeled with questions, automatically lowering the rope for the newcomer to latch onto before he could stop himself. Was that the right thing to do? What if he was going to hurt everyone? The mere thought of losing what life he had worked so hard to help build, the thought of losing the only family he had left, was enough to make him sick to his stomach. He wasn't ready for that. He probably never would be, but certainly not now.

Gally searched for a way to warn the others as they hoisted the stranger up towards the sky. He wanted now more than ever to tell Alby what he had seen, to make them realise. Anything. This boy could not be trusted. His heart sank, for he would never be able to tell them why.

How else could they possibly know? The newcomer looked distraught; Like any other Greenie being pulled from the box. The Galders around him jeered as Newt hauled him to his feet, welcoming him into the glade. Gally wanted to throw him back down the metal shaft he came from. The boy looked like he was going to be sick - convincing, but Gally was convinced something was wrong. Why else would he be here? What other reason could this traitor possibly have for showing his face in this place?

One thing he knew for certain: he was going to be keeping an impossibly close eye on this intruder. He could do that much. One foot out of place and Gally would know about it. The others might not understand but that was old news, it wouldn't stop him. He would protect his home and his brothers as best he could. WICKED wouldn't take them from him too.