Trapped: A Maze Runner Fanfic // Gally

Chapter V: Rise and Shine

        You’re sitting atop a cold metal table, legs dangling off the side. To your right are monitors, each being tended to by a man in a white coat. A lab technician is smiling in front of you, explaining how the procedure will work, but no audible words are coming out of her mouth. You lay back onto the hard surface, palms clammy, forehead sweaty. Clenching your fists into tight balls, you grip either side as a woman injects a long needle into the soft part of your elbow. You grimace at the sharp pinch, but her words calm you almost instantly.

“No worries, y/n. Close your eyes and go to sleep.”

The feeling of someone gently shaking your shoulders awakes you from your deep slumber. Your eyes pop open to see Gally leaning inches away from your face, obviously trying to rouse you.

“Rise and shine, greenie. Day one.”

“I barricaded the door. How’d you-“

“You really think I didn’t suspect you’d lock the door? C'mon, you have work to do.” You’re frustrated at Gally’s disregard for privacy.

He hands over a pair of fresh clothes, leaving the room to let you change. It feels good to strip off yesterday’s attire. Exiting the med-jack, you follow him across the Glade, not in the mood for conversation with the rigid boy.

“You’re going to the gardens today. Newt’ll show you around. Maybe you can pick a few tomatoes if you’re feeling especially productive.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Because I’m a girl.”

“No, because you’re obviously not a builder or a butcher-“

You stop walking. “Stop acting like you know me. I’ve been here for less than 24 hours and you’re already pretending like you own me.”

Gally stops, too, leaning forward where you can feel his breath on your face. “You’ve been here for a day. I’ve been here for three years. I suggest you stop talking now, greenie-“ 

“And I suggest you stop calling me that. My name’s not greenie. It’s y/n.”

You expect a comeback, but you’re surprised to see his face relax. He starts to walk again, this time hastier.

“I’ll tell you what, y/n. If you can spend a full day training with the builders, the job’s yours. But for today, you’re with Newt.” You’re satisfied with the small victory. Maybe Gally’s not as hard to break as you thought.

            He takes you towards a patch of vegetables and fruits, surrounded by a small chestnut fence. Newt grins as he sees you approaching, walking over to greet you.

“Well, have fun with your initiation.” Gally begins. “Oh, and Newt, make sure she doesn’t burn the whole shucking place down.” He flashes you a millisecond-long devilish smile before walking off to tend to his own duties.

Newt stares at you strangely. “Let’s get to work then, shall we?” He hands you a bucket of what looks and smells like death.

“What the hell is that?” You ask, turning your head to avoid the stench.

He laughs at your reaction. “That, love, is cow klunk. We use it as fertilizer for the plants.” He demonstrates how to mix it with regular soil, guiding your hand down to the dirt. When he thinks you have the hang of it, he leaves to direct other gladers. After about an hour of dung-spreading, he returns, carrying a pile of sticks.

“Think you could run to the Deadheads to grab some more?” He says, referencing the bundle in his arms. You get up, wiping the remaining fertilizer on your pants.

            The Deadheads are just as dark as they appear from the outside. Beams of light peek through the tree cover, but not enough to eliminate the creepiness. At the bottom of a shallow slope runs a tiny, gurgling stream. On the other side is a small clearing containing about 10 cold, lonely headstones. No wonder they call it the Deadheads. You’re far from the garden now and, despite the spooky vibe, the place is oddly calm. Your footsteps crunch on dead leaves as you make your way to the nearest pile of twigs, picking up as many as you can hold. Out of nowhere, you feel a cold hand clasp over your mouth, causing you to drop your load. You whip around to see a glader you don’t recognize smiling sinisterly.

“Shh, shh…” He whispers, one finger to his mouth. He pins you against a tree, his hard shaft pressing against your crotch. You squirm against him, the all-too-familiar feeling of panic sweeping over you once again. He scans you head to toe, licking his lips when he reaches your covered breasts. Your face shakes away from his hand long enough to let out a good scream, before he slams your head against the tree trunk a good four times. Your body doesn’t register the pain; you’re in too much shock from the sudden blows. Through your doubled vision you watch him unzip his fly with his free hand. Next, he rips halfway through your thin shirt, letting out a low groan at the cleavage from your bra. He forces you into a kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. Still in your mouth, he raises his hand to your chest, squeezing your breast, moaning at the feel. You scream into his mouth, desperate to make any noise you can. It’s no use. Head throbbing, you use the little strength left in you to bang your fists against him. As he’s fumbling with your bra, a figure appears from the edge of the forest, sprinting as fast as he can.

“BENNNN! GET THE SHUCK OFF HER, NOW!” The figure screams, coming at your attacker with a closed fist. Now free of his tight grip, you sink to the ground, feeling warm blood seep from the back of your head and onto your neck. Through the blur of hot, salty tears you watch your savior slam the boy against the ground over and over, screaming all the way.

“Hurry up, get over here now!” The mystery boy yells. A group of Gladers appears, confused at all the commotion.

“Shuck, Gally! What’s wrong?” You recognize the voice as Newt, who soon enough answers his own question. He runs over, crouching down beside you.

“Jesus, y/n, what happened?”

“He just… came up b-behind me. It was s-so sudden…” You watch as Thomas and a couple others pry Gally off the unconscious boy, forcibly holding him back. He wriggles free from their grasp, rushing over to you, pushing Newt out of the way.

“Y/n- I heard you screaming and- shuck, you’re bleeding- I came as fast as I could-“ He cuts off, out of breath.

“T-Thank you, Gally- you-“ Your voice shakes uncontrollably.

“Let’s get her to the med-jack.” Newt orders. Gally immediately scoops you up.

“I-I can walk,” You argue. Gally ignores you, running you over to the med-jack. He gently lays you down on a cot. Outside, a Glader calls him over.

“Gally, get you ass over here! Ben’s been stung!” Gally casts a glance at Newt, who nods his head in approval.

Seeing Gally’s reluctance, Newt reassures him. “Jeff and I can take care of her from here. Go deal with Ben.” He gives you a final glance before running out to help. The boy who must be Jeff comes over with a wet cloth, dabbing blood from your wound. It stings, but you don’t complain. 

“I’m f-fine, just scared, t-that’s all.” Though your head is throbbing, you’re speaking the truth. Most of the trauma is from shock, not injury.

Once again, you’re ignored. You watch as Jeff pulls out a needle and thread.

“This is gonna hurt.” You lay still, letting him stitch you up. Once he’s finished, he ties it off and hands you a mug of brownish liquid, identical to the one from last night. You eagerly take sips, ignoring the burn. It numbs the pain enough for you to sit up.

“How do you feel?” Newt asks.

You tip your head back against the bed frame. “Shucking fantastic.”