Gally Imagines

=FORTY-NINE= Freedom

"Y/N, it's time."

You heard Gally's low voice from behind you, but didn't move, focusing on the metal nail between your fingers in one hand and the heaviness of the hammer in the other. You knew by the deepening-purple sky that what he said was true. There was only a short amount of time now before the maze Doors were activated by some unknown trigger, sliding with force until they locked shut. With Dan scheduled to be on the other side of them.

Oh could you dare to hope...

"You don't have to watch," Gally said after a moment. "Go into the woods and wait; I'll meet you there afterwards."

"No," you said, overriding your desperate desire to agree with him, shutting your eyes. "Gally, I have to watch. I have to see it for myself. I don't want to—trust me, but I have to—" your voice cracked. "I...I'll never have any peace otherwise."

The suffocating force of anxiety pressed against your chest making it hard to catch your breath. The cold weight of the hammer hung heavy in your hand, like the ominous dread pulling you down. Nausea unsettled your stomach, and a slightly-growing pain in the back of your neck made your head ache. You were vaguely aware of crickets chirping, but they sounded out of tune and only added to the overwhelming feeling of dread and isolation. Your fingers gripped the hammer's handle tighter, and you bit your bottom lip hard trying not to cry, struggling to breathe. You didn't dare to even entertain the thought of a hope that this could be the end of Dan. He had been around so long that you couldn't even remember what it had been like to not be constantly watching your back. Afraid that at any moment...

You jumped as you felt something on your shoulder, then realized that it was Gally's hand. The soft weight of his palm and fingertips lightly gripped you, pressing into your skin. His touch was gentle and soft, but also firm and secure.

Safe.

The presence of Gally's warm hand on your shoulder began to seep through your skin, gradually melting away the overwhelming, icy fist of dread, fear, and uneasiness that griped you. The weight of his hand began to shift your focus from the uncertain future back into the present—to here, this moment. The hand that rested on your shoulder told you that Gally loved you as clearly as if he had said it out loud. You were not alone. He was with you.

You turned towards him and immediately found your face buried in his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

"It's okay," he said softly, his deep voice rumbling. "Y/N, everything is going to be okay."

You looked up, gazing into his green eyes staring kindly back at you, and you couldn't help but wonder why you had been so afraid before. With his arms around you, you knew that nothing could hurt you. Ever. He wouldn't let that happen. And you realized that no matter what the outcome of tonight was, everything was going to be okay. You were with Gally, and nothing could tear you apart. And with that knowledge you found that, even though it was hard, you could somewhat breathe again.

~~~~~

By the time you and Gally came in view of the wall there was already a ragtag cluster of Gladers forming into a group. At the sight of those boys, and the knowledge of what their gathering together meant, the uneasy feeling of dread began to rise up within you once more, causing you to stumble slightly. Gally's hand caught you, interlacing his fingers with yours and throwing you a reassuring glance; you forced a weak smile and gripped his hand a little higher.

Gally pushed his way through the crowd of Gladers, forcing a path for the both of you. As you broke through the barriers of backs and arms, your line of vision was caught up by a separate group of Gladers standing in a half-circle next to the Maze entrance. Each of them held a long pole, one end resting on the ground, the other in the sky with another smaller piece of wood attached to it forming a "T" shape at the top. You recognized Frypan, Minho, Zart.... Your gaze stopped at Newt, the dark bruise visible beneath his left eye. He stood there, resting his hands on the pole but holding it away from his body as if he didn't want to be tainted by it. His jaw was set firmly, determination etched into his features; but also resigned to the task at hand, accepting the undesirable position he was staked to that could not be avoided.