Title: Two For Joy
Paring: Gally X Reader
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Author's Note: I always sing a nursery rhyme when I see a crow (magpie), and thought I'd get it out via fanfiction.
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Three months after you'd come up in the Box, there was a song stuck in your head that you swore you'd never heard any of the boys saying, or ever in your life. Yet, it was stuck in your head, reminding you the meaning of it in times when there wasn't much work to do.
You were Frypan's prep-chef; something he loved you eternally for, and together, you'd make the meals for the Gladers. Whether it be tomato soup, or something spicy with homemade bread, you were the one to put everything out, get it ready and clean up after the meal was cooking, and made everyone satisfied until the next meal.
This job made you half-popular; everyone had great admiration for Frypan, maybe because he was the only one who cooked in the Glade. And because you helped Frypan create all of his delicious homemade ice creams, stews and cook-ups, you were looped in with his greatness. Even if you just washed dishes and chopped the raw chicken so he didn't have to touch it too much (you had to agree, raw chicken felt awful to touch).
But this song in your head...
It came to you as you were throwing the prep scraps into the compost bin, under your breath as a hum. You didn't even notice it, not until you began saying the words.
"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy..." you murmur, pushing the hair from your face. "Five for silver -," A branch cracked; who had left firewood lying around the Glade? But before you could answer your question, or at lest, resume where you were up to in your song, you met eyes with another Glader. Gally was a tall boy, with short hair, and a short attention span; not many people knew, but he had trouble keeping on his task as the Keeper of the Builders. It was why he was so hard on himself, and often, others.
"Is Fry around?" He asked you.
You shake your head. "He's visiting Clint and Jeff for a headache, I think." You reply, dumping the smelly compost into the bin. It will make good soil soon, good for the Track Hoes, for the food you cooked with. "I can help you if you want."
He nodded, and placed his hammer onto the grass by his feet. "I wanted someone to help hold onto a beam, we need an extra pair of hands on the job."
You nod. "I can help with that. Just hold on three minutes, I have to store the lunch meat so it doesn't go off before we cook it..." you rush back into Frypan's kitchen, cleaning up the utensils he had left every which-way. Unbeknown to you, Gally had followed you in; you wouldn't blame him, not many people had privy to the kitchen, it was quite a sight. Rather, it looked like something from a house out in the middle of the countryside than a restaurant (from what you remember what restaurants are). "Oh, Gally, you frightened me," you gasp, noticing him in the doorway.
He nodded. "Sorry, _______. I didn't mean to."
You shrug. "That's alright. I'll just be -,"
"What was that song you were singing before?" He interrupted you, watching you closely. "The one...you were counting things."
You place a spatula into the right tub, and face the Builder, but before you could find the words to explain the silly song, you were taken by the sight of him before you. The way he almost brushed the door frame with the tip of his head, his broad shoulders that seemed to not notice just how built he was. You'd known Gally ever since you had come up in the Box, but not as others had known him. He was never rude or mean. He didn't get rough around you, never lifted a finger to hurt you. Newt had joked that you two had a deeper friendship than him and Alby. You had just thought you were under his radar.
"Uh," you sigh, "It's just a silly song. I think my parents might have sung it before I came here, or something," You pushed a hand through your hair, and swept past him toward the latest building project in the Glade. "Come on, let's get this over and done with."
He grunted agreement, following you suit.
The next Greenie who comes is a little boy, with bright eyes and thick curls. He is both curious, and shy, hiding away from the rowdy crowds of boys. Almost at once, he finds his way under your wing, and you don't mind. He remembers his name to be Chuck, and as soon as that comes, he finds a little more bravado in himself.
The bonfire is roaring, Gally fighting in the ring to prove his strength. He was soon to be eighteen, a year older than you were, and with Chuck being no more than twelve, even his bravery didn't cover the ferociousness Gally displayed in the fighting ring. Even though the bonfire was for him, he sat beside you on a log, sipping some of your homemade juice from the orchards.
"Why is he so scary?" He asked you, overhearing a roar as Gally was knocked over by Winston after the Keeper of the Slicers had feinted, and won the round.
You glanced to Chuck, and chuckled over the apple juice. "Gally? He's just pretending, you know." You whisper to Chuck through the melee of the boys' cheers and jabbers around the fire and fighting ring. "He's a nice boy, at least to me. If you're afraid of him, you should meet him when he's alone with me."
Chuck nodded.
You returned your gaze to the fighting scene ahead of you; Gally had regained his footing, and taken a swig of his mixture, and readied himself for another round. Before you knew it, you had been sitting there for hours, just observing the boys around you. Chuck, had fallen asleep beside you, leaning his head of curls against your side. It was almost like you'd known him all your life, maybe that you were his elder sister.
The fire was dying down to ashes and white embers, boys scattering into the night to their bunks and hammocks. Frypan was helping Clint and Jeff take the bruised and battered boys who had fought to the Medjack hut for the night, drunken boys assisting their friends in making way to their beds. You took Chuck in your arms as best you could, making way to your hammock in the Homestead. Lifting him in, the young boy snuggled into the material.
He looked so small; too small to live in the Glade. You stood by the side, watching him from the corner of your eye, watching the moon in the night sky from where it had breached the walls of the Maze. The silvery light watered the grassy area you lived in, brightening the night with its crescent shaped appearance.
"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy..." you whispered, stroking the hair from Chuck's face where he slept. "Five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told." You took a deep breath in, realising the song was a nursery rhyme. "Eight for a wish, nine for a kiss. Ten for a bird you must not miss. Eleven for health, twelve for wealth..."
"You have the prettiest voice, _______."
Jerked from the pleasant moment, you slip backward, landing on the floor of the Homestead. In the moonlight, you soon see the figure of who interrupted your song's end. He's so tall, he almost blocks out the light that barely spilled onto his face. Gally.
"You frightened me, Gally," you whisper, pushing yourself back to stand. "Go...go to sleep. You're drunk."
It was almost a new month by the time you saw Gally again. You were serving the meals by the entrance of the kitchen, delivering plates for the Gladers to take to the eatery. Ever since that night, his words had haunted you, the way they had been something you'd never expected to hear from him, or, from anyone to you. But you did not dwell on that memory, not when he stood before you.
"Have a good lunch," you echo the same words you say to every Glader. But when you spoke, it sounded like a whisper, something not intended to be heard by the boy before you. "Gally, about what happened -,"
He nodded. "I'm not good at words, _______...I'm even worse at telling people how I feel. But you - you make me feel like butterflies live in my heart whenever I see you. Your voice, it's beautiful," he takes a step toward you, taking the plate in his hands. ''I think I like you more than a friend, ________."
"I think I do too," you feel a heat come to your face as you confess.
A head peeks around from behind Gally, full of curls. Chuck's face is lit into a splitting smile. "You two should kiss!" Gally glances between the two of you, and closes the distance between his lips and yours. "This is so cool!"