Seperation // Gally x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Four - Traitorous Whore

"I see why you like it so much."

We finish our bowls incredibly quickly, but the banter doesn't continue. We all just stare into the distance, out onto the restless world waiting to take us in its grasp.

"I wish Alby could've seen all this," Newt says solemnly, resting his leg upon a log. "And Winston," Fry adds. "And Chuck," Thomas says, flicking Chuck's wooden carving between his fingers. I didn't realised Chuck had ended up giving it to him, especially after we specifically told him not to, but I'm glad he did.

"And Gally," I say after a few seconds. They all look at me, some blankly, some sympathetically. I know what they're thinking. I've heard some of them whispering about it when they think I can't hear. One of them saw me searching for Gally that one night in the desert. They don't understand why I still love him, if I even still do. Is that even possible? Well, most of them never understood why I loved him in the first place. Those who did now despise him, for betraying us, for sending a bullet through my chest. But to me his death instantly repaid that debt.

Thomas places his hand on my own, smiling at me sadly. "Hey, Aris!" Frypan calls to the trio sitting on the chairs beneath us. He sends us a friendly wave in the air in return. "I kind of like that kid," Fry says. Minho squints at him for a few seconds. "Yeah. I still don't trust him, though," he says, and we all return to our laughter.

"Hey, where's Teresa?" I ask, realising I haven't seen her since we arrived. "I think she went up there," Newt replies, pointing to a ridge a little further up the mountain. I twist my neck to look at it, and sure enough, a lone silhouette stands in the dying sunlight, staring onto the plains.

"I'll be right back," I say, pushing off the rock. I move with a spring in my step, bouncing over small rocks and fallen branches. My stamina quickly depletes as I move to the rockier section of the mountain, accumulating all my balance and courage into moving over the stones, trying to stay as close to the side as I can.

By the time I make it to her, the glimmering sunset has faded to a depressing grey, casting gloomy shadows over the camp. "Hey, you okay?" I ask, pulling myself up to her level. She jumps slightly, and steps to the side to offer me more room. "What are you doing up here?"

I catch a glimpse of her face, and her eyes are glossy. She hasn't been crying, no, but something is definitely bothering her. "Just thinking," she says, but I'm not convinced. She can't look away from the mountains for more than three seconds at a time.

"About what?"

"Do you remember your mother?" She asks me, her tone serious. My eyebrows furrow and I scoff lightly. "What? Of course not, none of us do. Wait, do you remember yours?" She turns away from the view and stares me dead in the eyes, giving me a sharp nod.

"She was a beautiful woman, everybody loved her. And before WICKED, she was all that I had. When she got sick, I didn't know what to do. I just kept her locked up, hidden," she says, the water returning to her eyes. "Oh god, I'm sorry. That sounds awful," I say, trying to be comforting but really just sounding disinterested.

"I thought she'd get better. Every night she'd make these awful sounds, like screaming. And then, one night, she just stopped. She was finally quiet. I went down to her room, and there was blood, everywhere. But she was just sat there, calm as ever. She said she was feeling better. She said the visions were gone, that she'd taken care of them. She took her eyes out, Y/n."

My eyes widen in horror as my imagination paints the scene. My words hitch in my throat, thick and suffocating. She fills the silence. "There are millions of people suffering out there. Millions of stories, just like mine. We can't turn our backs on them. I won't."

"What are you saying?" I stammer, taking a step back as my concern grows. "I'm saying, I want you to understand," she says.

"Understand what?"

"Why I did it."

And that's when I see it. What I had at first thought to be the first night stars peeking from behind the mountains begin to move, rising and accelerating towards us. Two helicopters shining a cone shaped light down to the earth beneath them. They were headed straight towards us.

I grab the collar of her jacket, shaking her shoulders. "You sold us out!" I scream, anger pulsating through my veins. I take a few steps back, my breathing heavy as I try to think of a plan.

"Please don't fight them, Y/n," she says, and for a moment I could swear I saw genuine shame. "What have you done?" I whimper, retreating back down the rocks. I hesitate, waiting to see whether this is real or just a cruel hallucination. I think of the others, and I know this is real.

I sprint down the mountain, stray branches and the occasional slip sending scrapes across my knees. I run as fast as I can, screaming wildly and hoping that someone hears me. "Run! It's a trap! Everyone hide!"

I turn the corner, but it's too late. The helicopter soars over my head and beats me to the base. "No!" I scream, pushing my body to its limit. A blast of fire rains from the sky, and an explosion bursts at the camp. More occur, the sky becoming a tapestry of deceit and flames. Everything these people had worked for, everything we'd survived for, gone at the hands of a traitorous whore.