Y/N's POV:
Following Gally felt stupid in retrospect.
We left this boy to die; Minho had thrown a spear that pierced him right in the chest, and he crumpled to the ground. No one rushed to his side, or checked that he was even alive – so what would he gain from helping us now?
What would he get out of helping the person who almost killed him? It almost felt more fitting to leave the person who tried to take your life away behind to rot. In my mind it did, anyway.
I wouldn't hesitate to leave someone who tried to kill me; leave them behind to become someone else's problem. Perhaps Gally didn't see it that way; if he helped Minho, maybe he could finally return the favour.
He could help save the boy, make him believe he was safe and finally free from those who had kept him captive, and stick the spear right through his chest.
Piercing the heart with a wooden spear, probably sounded like tit for tat.
I thought Gally would think of it that way – maybe he wasn't the person I thought he was.
"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city. They realised I was immune, stitched me up and nursed me back to health, and then brought me here to Lawrence."
The boy turned the corner, the rest of us hot on his tail. "This group's been at war with Wicked ever since they took over the city. They took control, and gave nothing in return when we gave in and gave it to them. But they can't hide forever, they'll get what's coming to them soon enough."
Gally came to a halt slowly, swivelling on his heel to turn to the rest of the group. We looked up at him like lost puppies, as he rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly.
"Uh, he doesn't get a lot of visitors, so let me do the talking, okay? And, don't stare, it's rude."
Newt shot me a look over his shoulder, confusion written between his brows. I shrugged, filing in behind the blonde as Gally opened the door. I walked into the room, and as soon as my skin touched the air, I shivered.
The temperature had dropped about ten degrees, and I was now regretting not wearing a jacket. The others piled in, rubbing their arms to keep warm, huddling together to maintain body heat.
Upon entering, you would notice that the room was rather bare; the windows were glass, concealed by black tape and newspapers. The shelves were cluttered with decaying plants, each with soil that over filled the pots and petals that seemed to accumulate more on the floor than on the actual flower itself.
But a man stood in the corner, huddled over one thing in particular. Guards were stationed around the room, giving us all hesitant and angry looks. They didn't seem pleased to see us.
The man was tall, rather dishevelled and whispering to himself. The mumbling under his breath came to a sudden halt when he heard our footsteps, and I watched as his head rose, still not turning around.
"Gally," He said, without even needing to look at the boy, "Glad to see you back. Jasper told me what happened."
Gally stepped forward, swallowing. "It was a slaughter. There's never anything we can do against those guns."
The man's attention seemed to have shifted from the thing before him, to what the boy had just said. Very slowly, the man took a hold of the thing next to him, and turned around.
For the first time, I was able to look at his face.
I didn't even know how to describe it.
It was as if it was falling apart – his face was decaying, and the man wasn't even dead yet. I understood what the thing next to him was now. The IV was the one thing keeping this man alive.
His nose had appeared to have been ripped from his face, cruelly stolen from him, even. His skin was pale and clearly on the verge of coming away all together – his eyes were dull, and his lips a tainted purple.
I think even he knew he didn't have much time left.
"No," Lawrence responded. "But they can only poke the hornet's nest so long before they get stung."
The man stuck what's left of his nose up at the rest of us, not even looking directly at a single one of us. "Now, who are these people and why are they here?"
I figured Gally would answer it for us, but because he's an idiot and doesn't know when to shut the fuck up, Thomas moved forward to speak to the man. "We need to get into Wicked. Gally said you can get us through the walls."
Lawrence laughed a humourless laugh, one that stemmed from disappointment and sadness. "Gally should know better than to make promises he knows he can't keep." Lawrence turned back to the object before him, taking great interest in it once again. He spoke with his back to us, "Besides, those walls are only half your problem. Getting inside the actual building is impossible."
Gally cleared his throat. "There might be a way now. But it doesn't work without Thomas."
In unison, the group turned to look at Gally, confusion plastered over our faces. And Lawrence appeared to have the same reaction.
"Is that so?" He said, venom dripping from his words.
The man crept closer, tugging along the IV each step he took. Lawrence got rather close to Tom, making it a point to get close to his face, and speak directly to him.
"I take great pride in my work, Thomas. And in doing so, I consider myself to be a rather successful businessman. Now, let's say for instance that I trust you. Which, I would just like to make clear, I don't, but for this scenario, let's just say I do."
The man grew a smile wider than I thought possible in his condition, creeping closer to Thomas' face. "I might trust you, Thomas. But I do not trust her."
I didn't understand who the man was talking about for a second, but once I noticed his slender finger pointed directly at me, I realised what was going on.
Everyone in the room had turned their attention towards me, and surprisingly enough, it was not something I enjoyed.
Lawrence noticed my muddled expression and clearly took joy from it. He lost interest in trying to intimidate Thomas, instead, turned his attention to stagger over to me, just to try the same thing.
"What a pleasure it is to see you again, Miss Y/n."
Shit.
"I must say, our last encounter was much more exciting, don't you think?" The man laughed, taking pleasure from the fact that we were not going to get what we wanted, and I was the reason for that.
Yet again.
"Don't you remember?" He asked, waiting for the flash of recognition. "You must do, it was surely significant, don't you think?"
Gally looked angry, turning his head to look at me. "How do you know Lawrence, Y/n?"
The boy had a harsh edge to his words, almost as if he already knew, and just needed confirmation. The issue with that is, I don't know how I know this man. I'm sure we've crossed paths, he seems adamant he knows me, and clearly our encounter was not pleasant.
"I don't know." I said, not breaking eye contact from the man. I watched as his face morphed into a smirk, thinking my words a lie.
"Oh, you don't? Do you not remember what happened that day? The day Wicked had decided to make a surprise visit, and take so many lives of so many people we had to go into hiding, just to ensure the lives of the rest of us."
The man looked at me with disgust. "Do you not remember that?"
I swallowed, but stood my ground. "No. No I do not." The man couldn't seem to decipher my answer, watching my eyes for any hint of a lie.
But when he found none, he sighed. "You know, so much was taken from me that day, and you don't even have the decency to recall it."
I could feel Newt creeping closer to me, reaching out to tell me he was there. I heard his voice before I felt him. "She had her memories taken from her – she has even more decency than you could even begin to imagine."
My darling Newt, always right there to defend someone who doesn't deserve it.
"Really? What a coincidence." Lawrence scoffed, taking a step back from the group to steady himself. "Mind if I refresh everyone's memory then?" The man asked, grinning wickedly.
After not responding, Lawrence took my silence as a yes and opened his mouth anyway.
"Two years ago, the lovely Y/n graced us with her presence and infiltrated one of our camps alongside her very good friends, Wicked the absolute wankers."
The nickname was fitting, albeit.
"We were well known for not liking Wicked, and we made it very clear that we thought your practices inhuman and disgusting. And what did you lot to decide to do to combat this issue? Shoot and kill as many of our men as you could."
I felt something turn in my stomach, but yet, the man continued on. "I had almost made it out, scrambling through heaps of people to reach where I knew was safe. And just when I was a step away from that, your royal highness over here knocked me on my arse."
That isn't so bad? Right? There has to be more, there's no way that's what he is upset about-
"Oh, and here's the kicker; she took out her large machete, and instead of just putting me out of my misery right then and there, she did this."
Lawrence elegantly lifted his finger, taking his time however, finally pointing right at where his nose used to be.
It made sense now.
I heard quiet gasps from Brenda and Fry from the back, but ignored it. I don't care what they think.
"Don't think she's so nice now, do you?" The man laughed, sitting down on a stool in the corner.
"Now, I will continue with what I was saying earlier. While I may trust you, Thomas, I do not and will not ever trust you, Y/n." Lawrence sat comfortably in his stool, hands placed firmly on his IV.
Gally did not look pleased, but still managed to make the effort with the man. "Lawrence, please see reason. We're not asking you to do this for her, we're asking as people who hate Wicked just as much as you-"
The man suddenly looked furious. "Is that so? Then why have you got a Wicked soldier sitting in your ranks?!" Lawrence yelled, finishing up with a cough.
Gally looked over at me, confusion mixed with anger caressing his features. He turned to face me, but Thomas put a hand out to stop him. "It's a long story, and one we do not have time to talk about right now. We need to get to Minho."
Lawrence scoffed, sliding into a laugh. "It's hilarious to me how you lot think having her with you is a smart idea. She will kill every single one of you given the chance." The man kept on gritting out statements of pure hatred, driving the knife in further and further.
I had heard very similar things from very similar people before – I think I'm beginning to become numb to it.
To defend myself, I laughed. "If my plan was to kill everyone here, I would have done it already. I'm not a fan of wasting time."
Lawrence chuckled, slowly removing himself from his seat to stand. "Now that right there is something a Wicked soldier would say. Cold and calculating, even to people you are supposed to care for." He said, glaring at me.
"I'm only cold and calculating to people when necessary-"
Jorge got quite clearly fed up and yelled over the crowd. "Enough!" He turned to Lawrence. "If Thomas can get us in, then we won't need you to help us. We're sorry for bothering you."
Jorge turned around, heading for the door, not waiting for a response. Lawrence did not look confused, or angry – instead, he sat back down in his chair.
"I'll help you."
--
Newt looked very hesitant as he knotted his laces together, preparing to enter the tunnel that granted him, Gally and Thomas entrance to the city.
I watched as he fiddled with his shoes, tentatively touching his arm before switching feet and readjusting the other lace.
I placed my hand on his knee. "Nervous?" I asked, as he looked up at me like I had just broken him out of his thoughts.
"No, I'm not nervous, per say." The boy replied, although I caught how his leg still bounced up and down.
I gave him a weak smile, clutching tighter at his hand. "It's going to be fine. You'll only be gone for like 30 minutes."
"I thought I said I wasn't nervous?" Newt smirked, pulling my hand to his lips to give it a tender kiss.
I chuckled quietly. "I can't say I believe that."
The boy smiled, pulling me closer to him so I could rest my head on his shoulder. I wondered if he was nervous – it was standard procedure, and he had done much more dangerous things before.
Perhaps he wasn't even nervous at all.
"I'll be back soon, okay? And then you'll have me all to yourself." The blonde smirked down at me, and I laughed. "Lucky me." I responded sarcastically.
Watching as Gally did up his coat, I realised it was only minutes away from when they would have to leave, as I peered around the corner to see how Thomas was getting on.
Breaking into the city to check for the easiest way to get into Wicked seemed rather idiotic to me at first – but the idea is growing on me.
Thomas didn't jump for joy when the plan was concocted, however. I think he fears he may see Teresa, and not that he would have to speak or interact with her, more that it would mean that what had happened back at the Right Arm was real, and that we weren't all just dreaming.
The girl he clearly had feelings for tried to get us all killed, and joined forces with the enemy.
"You ready to go?" Gally spoke to Newt, handing him a flashlight. He barely even looked at me since our conversation with Lawrence.
If things weren't tense with us already, they certainly are now.
"Yeah, I'm ready." Newt replied, and Gally nodded, heading over to Thomas.
Newt stood, pulling me with him. He kept a hold of my hands, gave them a small squeeze and smiled. "I'll see you in no more than half an hour, okay?" He said and I nodded.
"It's literally 30 minutes, I think I can handle being without you for that long." I said, and the blonde pouted. "Who says I can?" He asked, and I laughed.
Newt pulled me into a kiss, warm and sweet. Tentative and kind, but sadly short. "30 minutes."
I nodded, assuring the boy. "30 minutes."
He let go of my hands slowly, heading over to Thomas and Gally, and followed in their lead as they lowered themselves into the man hole.
This was going to be a long 30 minutes.
-
A/N: the codependency with these two is killing me.
how we feeling after finding out about Lawrence and yn's previous encounter? i thought it was hilariously painful for both of them.
kisses <3