𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐈𝐀 - TMR, Gally ² / ³

𝟢𝟣𝟫，𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬' 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤

"Can I check up now?" Brenda urges, impatient because after Joan explained everything, she ended up falling asleep in Gally's arms, then woke up crying and tried to shake him off, then fell back asleep again, and Brenda still hasn't been able to speak to her.

But twenty minutes ago, she, again, woke up crying, and there's no signs that she's asleep, nor is it confirmed that she hasn't calmed down.

Perfect opportunity.

"But I wanted to—"

"You can go enjoy the pleasure of Newt's company," she interrupts Thomas. "Because I am the girl and you are not, and you suck."

"I want to apologize—"

"And you're a man, which basically means I hate you. And so does Joan. I don't think an apology is what she's waiting for right now."

He sighs, then nods, and motions at the door to Gally's room.

Brenda steps inside, welcomed to the sight of Joan with shaking hands, a cup of tea in them, and Gally next to her, doing nothing more but rubbing the girl's back.

Her gaze softens. "Hi, Joan." And sharpens as it goes to Gally. "You. I like you, but I want to talk to Joan, so please leave."

He looks from girl to girl for a second. "Okay. But be careful. And don't—"

"I can hear you," grumbles Joan. "And I'm not a baby who needs constant care."

Gally holds up his hands. "If you say so, woman. If you say so." And then he has left.

Brenda only sits down next to Joan once the door closes. Gives her a small smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Like a miserable piece of shit."

In some kind of approving way, Brenda nods. "Understandable. Wanna talk?"

"I assume that's the reason you're here."

She watches the smaller girl for a while. Her distant, tired eyes. The wounds and scratches that haven't fully healed yet. The painful twitch in the corner of her mouth, as if she's trying to smile but can't afford to do it. And still, the shake in the hands, tea almost spilling.

"It doesn't have to be," she eventually replies. "We can also just sit and do nothing at all. If that means finally spending some time with a girl instead of stupid men. Sometimes, I wish there were more girls my age back at Jorge's."

"I sometimes wish there were more girls back in the Glade." A pause. "I never really got the chance to talk to Teresa. First thing she knew about me was that I was unconscious and a traitor. After that, never spoke a word to her."

"Well, I don't think you will be anytime soon. No nice words, at least. But we can make the best out of it."

Joan's face lights up at that. "You'd want that?"

"Yeah, sure." A laugh. "If you agree."

"A thousand percent." Slowly, her smile becomes realer. Then just in a second, it fades again. "I'm messed up."

"Tell me about it. Or don't. Anything at all."

She sighs. "Another time, I'll talk about it. I really appreciate Gally and Vince— well, Dad, I guess, but I need some other talks than talks about what happened or just silent hugs."

"We should talk about the way Thomas and Newt have been such dicks."

A scoff. "They're craving each other's dick but something stops them from confessing so they just act like dicks."

Brenda laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. "Yeah, I'll believe that. We should set them up."

"I'm letting them suffer until they're not that... dickish," she decides. "But if you wanna set them up, I'm not complaining."

"I'll keep it in mind."

They sit in silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company. Joan puts the cup that's still full of steaming liquid down and rubs the side of her face before she speaks.

"So, tell me about you and Jorge. Is he actually your father? He seems cool."