The Maze Runner Oneshots & Imagines

Gally - Nightmare

During the day, Gally was strict and rough around the edges, but as night fell and those doors inched shut, he loosened up. He willingly played games, stomached his stubbornness, and engaged in typical teenage behaviour. You liked Gally for most of his snarky decisions, and even when you couldn’t agree with them, you understood his perspective. Gally stood for order and normalcy, something you were happy to have, having been thrown into the Glade. Between Alby rules and Gally’s blunt determination, you felt safe. Well, for the most part. While Gally shook off his grumpy exterior at dusk, you took on a more frightful interior as the first star twinkled in the dark sky.

It was no surprise when you woke up shaking and crying and completely out of it. Your hands scraped against skin and cloth wildly, searching for something tangible; some sort of anchor.

Gally jolted awake, his callous, ready-to-pounce grip already on your wrist. You were seated upright, staring unseeingly into the blackness as shivers racked your body. After realising the lack of physical danger, Gally shifted, careful eyes landing on you. You felt his arms slither around your waist, pulling you closer.

Still, you shook, wild breaths leaving your mouth in short gasps. You briefly glanced at Gally, and you saw the crease between his brows; worry.

You could barely remember what the dream had been about, but it didn’t matter, it had clawed itself into your very core. You still felt like the poison soaked and gnawed at your skin.

“I’m…I’m—okay,” you stuttered eventually, focus still on empty space. Gally gave you a reassuring squeeze. Trying to regain whatever dignity you had left, you lay your head on his shoulder numbly. Then, you could feel yourself moving backwards, towards the pillows, against his chest.

Gally began to talk, quite amicably; something that would be considered unusual outside the realm of night time. You made out a few things; some of the builders being ‘slintheads’—what he hoped Frypan cooked in the upcoming days. You were grateful that he didn’t ask you about it, and instead, calmed you down and provided a welcome distraction.

You buried your nose against his jaw, humming a few agreements here and there. And when his skin raised with goosebumps, you smiled to yourself—just a bit.

Who would have thought the boy with a sandpaper personality made for an intuitive bedfellow?

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A/N: First and foremost, I’d like to apologize for the lack of updates. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn’t; either way, it felt weird to go from posting every other day to nothing for two weeks. Honestly, I didn’t feel like writing, and instead branched out into a few other hobbies. I’m coming back around though. In two days, I start a new year at school—my senior year—so I’m expecting things will get quite busy. I’m not sure how it will affect my updating. Just something I wanted to let you guys know about!

Next on the agenda: I wanted to talk about one of the reasons why I decided to start writing imagines/oneshots. I read quite a few of them beforehand, and one thing I noticed was that authors and readers very eagerly romanticised an abusive relationship/dynamic, particularly with Gally’s character. While these things can be interesting to write about, I definitely do not like how this behaviour is encouraged as healthy or okay to an influential audience. Just something to keep in mind.

Thanks for reading—till next time!