The Reason

Old Friends

Thomas and Newt trudged after Gally in a foul sewer pipe. Newt loudly complained about the smell but was unable to get any conversation going between either of the boys.

"We've got a ways to go, stick with me," Gally told them as he flicked on some string lights along the curved tunnel wall. He figured he had plenty to atone for, but they weren't going to be his friends any time soon.

"So, are you ever going to ask about Nikola, or should I just start telling you?" Newt finally bit the bullet and launched into a touchy topic. "We seem to have time."

"I saw you guys in the city," Gally said without looking at him, his hand clenching into a fist by his side as he remembered how close Nikola had been to Newt. "I can put things together."

Newt let out a short, humorless laugh. "Are you kidding? I couldn't even compete with you when you were dead," he informed his old friend, finally receiving a glance from him.

Gally felt his chest constrict a bit and his hand went over his scar, Newt's eyes following the motion.

"Bet you've got a bloody big scar, aye?" Newt asked. "She has one too."

"How?" Gally asked with furrowed brows.

"The spear grazed her shoulder before it hit you. You'd hardly notice it if she could keep her bloody hands off it. It's her tell for when she's thinking about you," Newt informed him, his lips pressing together in a sad sort of smile.

"And how would you know that?" Gally asked, wondering why Newt was even telling him this. He'd been the bad guy, the one who took over the glade and killed Chuck. And on top of that, Newt loved her too.

"Because she always looks sad when she does it. Gally, I'm sorry you think we 'left you to die', but don't think of her that way."

"It took four men to drag her away from you," Thomas added, making both of them turn to him in surprise. His eyes had a far off look, as if he were remembering. It was obvious he was thinking more of Nikola than of Gally. "I'll never forget how she was screaming."

Gally could vaguely hear it ringing in his ears before he blacked out, but it wasn't nearly as haunting as what Thomas remembered. It hurt Gally to think of it so he turned and tried to keep them moving.

"I heard her one night in the scorch," Newt wasn't ready to drop it, not until he sussed out just who Gally had become. "She was on watch with Fry and thought we were all asleep. She blames herself for you and Chuck-"

"What?" Gally asked as he came to a dead stop and turned around, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow a lump in his throat. Newt almost ran into him. "Why would she?" He almost begged for an answer as his eyes became glassy. It reminded Newt of how he'd looked when he was stung and crying.

"She thinks she could have taken the gun from you. Then you never would have fired a shot, and Minho never would have had to put a spear in your chest," Newt explained, hating that she'd never entrusted that information to him personally.

Gally bit his lips and looked away, running his hand over his hair which was even shorter now than it had been in the glade. "Oh, Shuck," He said with a shaky breath, his bad lung acting up on him.

Newt smiled at the sound of an old glader word. It had been a long time since he'd heard it. "You two have a lot to talk about when we get back, so let's hurry this up, yeah?" Newt suggested and they got moving again.

It was late when they returned. Fry and Brenda were still there waiting for them but were leaning on a wall half asleep. Gally looked around for Nikola, his brows furrowing when he didn't see her. He wondered if he'd been right to have suspiscions about Lawrence and his interest in her.

"She went to go rest," Fry told him with a yawn. "I don't know where."

"Alright, I'll take you guys somewhere we can talk and then I'll go get her," Gally told them.

He asked around and finally found out that they'd actually taken her to his room. She lay on the bed with her back to the door, her jacket laid over her like a blanket and her hair splayed across his pillow, probably making it smell like her. He stood in his own doorway just looking at her for a moment. He thought he'd never see her again, that she'd either be dead or taken by wicked or hiding from wicked so that he'd never have a chance of finding her. But there she was, on his bed. Like it was meant to be.

Slowly he walked over, looking at her peaceful profile before gently putting a hand on her shoulder. "Nikola, wake up," he said softly.

Despite all his efforts to wake her up calmly she woke with a start, gasping and looking at him with wide eyes as she went up on her elbow. Then she shut her eyes tightly and looked down, putting a hand over her face. "Sorry. Sorry, I forgot for a second," She told him as she sat up.

"It's alright," he said as he glimpsed the scar on her shoulder through a tear in her old and ratty shirt. In fact, he almost thought it looked familiar, it might be the one she'd been wearing that day. After talking to Newt he knew he couldn't repeat his mistake in the glade. He had to talk things out with her. "Listen," he said kneeling by the bed, her face softening in surprise. "The others are waiting. We're gonna go talk about what to do next, but after that... can we talk?"

Her eyes went slightly wide and she swallowed, reminding him of the face she'd make when he would come over to correct something she was doing wrong. It made his chest feel tight again.

"Yeah," she finally answered, nodding a little too much. "Sure."

She hadn't been that close to him yet and it threw her for a loop. She could have sworn he was even bigger than before. His hair was shorter now and his face was slightly harder, life having aged him and whittled off most of his soft, boyish edges. But those were still the same plump lips she so vividly knew.

He nodded, straightening up, and she got off the bed and put on her jacket again, noting how his eyes traveled down her body. Maybe he was thinking she looked different now too. Maybe she did, she wouldn't know, it's not like she had much time to look in a mirror even if she had one.

"What happened there?" He gestured to her hair as she was gathering it up in a ponytail again as she followed him through the halls. There was a section of hair on the left side that was significantly shorter than the rest of it.

"Oh, uh," she stuttered, the not so fond memory popping into her head. "A crank grabbed a fistful of it. It was either lose my hair or..."

His jaw clenched as he thought of her so close to a crank. Aside from Lawrence, he hadn't seen one himself, not the kind she'd encountered in the scorch that is, but he'd seen people who had begun to turn. It wasn't pretty.

"Hey, Gally," a girl stepped into the hall and gave him a smile that disappeared when her eyes landed on Nikola.

Gally gave her a nod and kept moving, noticing Nikola reach for her shoulder out of the corner of his eye.

Nikola was realizing just how much could happen in a year. She couldn't believe how much had happened to her, but she'd been so busy fighting for her life against cranks and Wicked and being betrayed and trying to get Minho back that she'd only thought of one boy, a dead one. Or so she thought. He could have been up to anything with anyone. Someone else could very well know Gally the way she knew him, or even more. Sure, she knew he didn't want her back in the glade, but at least back then he didn't have any other options, she didn't have to worry about him loving another girl because she'd been the only girl. That was no longer the case.

"Right here," Gally said, opening a door a pulling her out of her thoughts.

Everyone was waiting, looking tired, but Newt and Thomas gave her a look she didn't like.

"What did you find?" She asked them warily as she approached, stepping into the light of the single bulb dangling from the ceiling.

"Teresa," Thomas answered, making her reel back like he'd tried to slap her.

"Oh... shuck," she muttered with barely contained rage as she rubbed her right thigh, another scar courtesy of their good old two-faced frenemy.