FOREVER. newt

nine. every last drop

If I was being honest, I had completely forgotten about him. I thought that he died.

But now, seeing him infront of me healthy made me realize that he could, in fact, survive a spear through his chest.

Gally was a healthy boy; if the spear passed through the heart or major artery; aorta, SVC, pulmonary artery or vein, or major branches thereof— he would last a few minutes minutes. It obviously isn't, then.

If a lung, he might have drowned in his own blood or he might've not - but he still has another lung and there would probably be time to save him if he got to medical assistance quickly. If he didn't get tension pneumothorax.

If it hits nothing vital, then he'd probably last a long time - Chuck has been shot in the chest, which was even worse than impalement since a bullet involves significantly more shock trauma, so Gally surviving, now that I've realized, wasn't really that surprising.

Chuck.

Gally killed Chuck.

The last time I saw him, Gally was crumpled on a ground with a spear on his chest. But I vividly remember not giving him any attention back then because I was too busy trying to save Chuck.

I let go of Newt, who's eyes are clouded with sadness and disbelief, probably not believing that the boy who murdered Chuck was here, alive and healthy. His breathing started coming out in shallow breaths as he glanced at the state that Gally was in.

He killed Chuck, and he was standing in-front of us alive and healthy? It was abso-fucking-loutley not fair.

I feel anger start to swell up in me. I just had to do something. To show him that it wasn't fair that he was standing infront of us right now. To smash that stupid fucking eyebrows off his face. To rip his eyes from his fucking face. To smash his head into a wall until his face deforms into this huge clump so that no one would recognize him ever again.

Then, I heard a yell.

Two yells, actually. My own roar of rage. Gally. Thomas and I lunging towards the boy, with him hitting him right in his cheek while I used my knee to kick him in the area I knew would hurt the most— just like I've done when I first entered the Glade.

Gally topples to the floor, his mask flying midair. While Thomas is desperately punching him, my hands find their way towards Gally's face, the sudden urge to rip his eyeballs of his stupid fucking face consuming me.

"Nini, stop!"

Stupid fucking face. Stupid fucking Gally. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him.

"Nini! I said, let go!"

Suddenly, I'm pulled away rather harshly from Gally. My first instinct was to punch whoever the hell would do that to me, but my throat hitches when I see who it was— Newt.

His eyes breaks away from mine, and he suddenly pulls Thomas back. Me in one arm and Thomas in another. My hands are shaking in anger while Thomas' lips quivers, his eyes set on Gally with the deadliest look I've ever seen as he croaks out; "He killed Chuck."

"I know, I know," Newt whispers. "I remember; I was there too. But I also remember that he was stung and half out of his mind." he briefly looks around worriedly, to the masked men pointing guns at the three of us, before turning back to Thomas and muttering, "Just calm down. Alright?"

He was stung. Gally was out of his mind.

I knew that. I knew it from the start. But why did I get so mad?

Newt's words slap me back into reality; as he lets go of Thomas, he grabs me and whispers reassuring words into my ear, but I didn't take notice of them at all.