𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Futile devices

The noise the gun made when Winston squeezed the trigger ripped through my flesh, rattling every single one of my bones. He was probably lying peacefully, bullet lodged in his skull, blood pooled around his body.

Winston's suicide brought something new to light. I'd never thought that killing myself was a viable option. I hadn't needed to. In the glade I had power. I had love. I had Gally. I was happy. Not all the time, but I wasn't in the actual fucking apocalypse like I was in now.

Gally was gone, I was in a desert that seemed to span across the entire globe, I didn't smell the prettiest I've ever smelled, I had no idea what I looked like due to the lack of mirrors, and I really needed to fucking pee.

What bothered me the most, what really got under my skin, were the repetitive thoughts telling me that I didn't belong here. Only it wasn't just a thought, it felt true.

My existence was unnatural. I was supposed to die in that laboratory, hand in hand with Gally. We were supposed to have our last breaths together.

The fact that I was walking, blood rushing through my veins, feeding my always pounding heart made me an abomination. I was perverted. I was a freak of nature. I didn't belong. It was only a matter of time before my fate decided that too, killing me off to fulfill some sort of sick destiny.

I felt like something bad was going to happen to me. There would be some kind of sick tragedy and I would be the damsel starring in it.

All that was keeping me separated from that unstoppable event was time. The only question was how many years, months, weeks, days, minutes, or even seconds, did I have left?

"Hey y/n." Jeff lifted me up from my dark pool of thoughts. His presence was like a golden ray of light, raining it's sunshine down on me. He was always so warm hearted and so sweet to me in the glade. Nothing like me. He was good.

"What's cracking Slime?" I attempted to do a handshake with him, but his hand was clumsy and confused in mine. We gave up, settling on walking next to each other.

"How's that wound holding up?" He pointed at the place Gally's bullet had pierced my skin. A tingle surfaced in the area, reminding itself of the person who had inflicted pain upon it.

"Oh, it's fine." I had no idea. I hadn't even seen what it looked like under all the bandages and dressing. "Or it could be infected. I honestly have no clue."

"We should probably check that out. Like as soon as possible." Jeff's forehead dropped with sweat, he ruffled up his shirt to create a breeze. "Maybe we should try to find somewhere to set up camp for the night and I could take a look."

"Sure, sounds good."

__________________________

A log landed on the young flames, spraying wild embers into the sky. We were lucky enough to stumble upon an abandoned steam ship that had been flipped sideways, taken over by the sand. It was the perfect grounds for wound care.

Friends surrounded me at first, curious and worried before Jeff told them to give me some space. They obliged the Doctor's orders, spreading out but still remaining relatively close.

My head lay on Teresa's lap. She let me squeeze her hand for comfort as Jeff undid the bandages.

He had a first aid kit beside him, we were lucky enough to find one in the backpack Minho had stolen from Wicked as we fled.

"It's okay y/n, don't look." I wasn't planning on it. I hated blood and guts. They always made me feel woozy. Jeff patted my hip bone lightly, the exposed wound feeling raw. "Just look up. Look up at the stars."

I followed his order, peering up into the night sky. Thousands of stars greeted me, each one glimmering against the only darkness. Teresa brushed back the hair on my temple, calming me.

Involuntarily, I started to form constellations from the scattered bits of starlight. Not Orion or the Big Dipper or some other random shape. Those stars became freckles, bountifully kissed upon skin.

It brought me back to those special early mornings in the glade. When Gally and I's love for one another hadn't been vocalized yet. When we slept in the same bed together and I would catch sight of his sleeping body in the reds and oranges of dawn. The upper half of him was scarcely ever covered, just how I liked it.

I saw it, right there, up in the sky. The curve of his spine, his shoulder blades, the back of his torso, all in a spray of stars. They matched the light brown freckles he had printed on every inch of his skin. I adored them, each and every one. I only wish I could've told him that I did when we were together.

"Gally." I whispered, breath fogging up the sky. Jeff was wrapping me back up, all it took was a few moments. If the process had been painful, I hadn't seemed to notice.

"And just like that, you're all done." Jeff smiled warmly, it was nice to see a smile. They came far and few between these days.

"Thanks Jeff." I shimmied my top down over my exposed ribs. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course."

"And thank you for being my pillow." I stretched up to sit, leaning my head on Teresa's soft shoulder.

"Of course." She petted my hair, leaning her head on mine. "Anything for you."

That closeness I felt in my memories to Teresa was back. My lips plumped in a nostalgic smile, closing my eyes to shroud in the comfort she gave me. The inner child in me was soothed around this girl.

"Thank you Reesa." I murmured, turning my chin to kiss the small of her jaw. She didn't flinch or find herself repulsed. Instead, she relaxed against my touch.

The night made my lids grow heavy. I yawned when the group began to make conversation, tired of talk.

"I thought we were supposed to be immune." Minho fiddled with a Swiss Army knife, the fire bringing a pretty color to his face.

"Not all of us, I guess." Teresa laid herself on her side. I sprawled out, keeping my closeness to her by resting my head by her knees, pointing my feet toward the fire to soak up the warmth.

"If Winston can get infected then we should assume so can the rest of us." Newt's cheek was marred with a cut, he twitched his nose, probably the product of a quick chill.

"I never thought I'd say it," My attention was drawn over to Frypan. His voice was low, soft in his own gentle way. A tear stained his cheek, I longed to hug him. "But I miss the glade."

I could sense the sleep coming along, muting my senses. My eyes were shut, ready to say goodbye, just like Winston had, when I heard someone sink into the sand next to me.

"Do you mind if I- Well you know." Chuck gestured toward me, his hair brassy in the firelight. "It's just cuz I can't stop thinking about Winston and everything."

"I'm gonna sleep." I slurred, voice thick with tiredness. Each bone ached in a specifically different way, my muscle torn into soreness.

"Cool." Chuck wrapped his around me, resting his head on my chest. "Goodnight y/n." I never replied.

I had succumbed to sleep.