Trapped - Gally x Reader - TMR

33. Keepers

That got the crowd talking again...whispers and tension and murmurs. Gally raised his voice over it all.

"If you wanna throw the newbie a parade, that's fine. Go ahead. But if there is one thing that I know about the Maze, is that you do not..."

A sharp, mechanical beeping rang through the air. We all turned. We all froze.

"No," someone whispered. "It's too early."

The Box was coming up.

People rushed outside in a panic. I tried to stand up. My head spun. My leg burned.

"Woah, woah...easy, little one." Minho appeared beside me. "I got you." And without waiting, he crouched, pulling me up on his back.

"I feel like a backpack," I mumbled against his shoulder.

He chuckled carrying me outside where the others were already gathered.

Inside was a girl. Pale. Still.

"She's the last one." Newt read out loud as he took the note.

Then...she gasped. Her blue eyes wide.

"Thomas," she breathed. "Thomas!" And she was out again.

Everyone turned to look at him.

I blinked, still dizzy, still clinging to Minho like a half-dead sloth.

"Well," I whispered, "looks like she had a nice dream."

I winked at Thomas. Gally, standing beside me now, looked around.

"You still think I'm overreacting?"

~~~

"Gally." I whispered exhaustively. I was propped up slightly on one elbow, watching him pace.

He was quiet. That alone told me how bad it was in his head.

He didn't answer. His jaw was tight, and I could see the little muscle in his cheek twitch. His fists were clenched.

He sat on the edge of the bed. His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing along the curve of my face. I could see it now, more clearly than anything else...he was scared.

"Gally," I whispered, curling my fingers around his wrist. "Everything's gonna be fine. We're gonna figure something out."

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me with this haunted expression, like he wasn't convinced.

Then he slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled something out...a thin leather cord, and hanging from it, a tiny fox, carved from wood.

"I made it," he muttered, not quite meeting my eyes. "When you were in that damn Maze."

My throat tightened.

"I couldn't sit still, and I didn't know what else to do. So I carved. After Thomas and Minho returned without you."

I blinked. "Why a fox?"

He shrugged. "'Cause they're clever. Brave. Always underestimated. And fast on their feet." His thumb brushed the fox once. "Sly"

I couldn't help it. I leaned forward, even though it hurt, and pressed my forehead to his.

"Gally..." My voice cracked a little. "Thank you.. it's lovely."

Gally stood slowly, brushing my hair to the side. His hands were warm against my skin as he tied the leather string around my neck. The little wooden fox settled just above my collarbone.