He wakes in a cold sweat, just a few days after skipping out on sparring with Ash. She'd been so preoccupied earlier that day, still worried about Newt after his 'accident'. Gally has suspicions it wasn't one, but he hasn't told anyone about them— not even Newt, Alby, Minho, or Ash, who all clearly know the real story, whatever that may be.

Gally isn't sure he wants to know the truth, especially after the nightmare he's just had.

His chest feels tight, like he can't breathe, and he stumbles out of his hammock and toward the Homestead door, out into the open air of the night. The moon is slowly on the path to descent, and Gally estimates it's around two or three in the morning, maybe. He slowly shuffles toward the smoking remains of the bonfire, unsure what he's doing.

He just doesn't want to go back to sleep.

After a few minutes, where he just stares into the last remaining embers, watching them die one by one, someone joins him. He doesn't have to look to see who it is— he can tell by their footsteps that it's Ash. She's the only one light enough to barely make any noise.

If it hadn't been so quiet otherwise, she might have scared the klunk out of Gally just now.

"Hey," he says quietly, unable to bring himself to ignore her, but she doesn't reply. She only sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Gally's brows furrow. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Can't sleep," she croaks, not looking at him. He doesn't say anything, letting her collect herself and decide if she wants to elaborate further. He doesn't want to pry, but he hopes she trusts him enough to tell him.

"I just— I can't stop having nightmares," she admits. "I keep seeing all sorts of awful things... Grievers, George, Newt... sometimes I'm running in the Maze, all alone, and then suddenly—" She cuts herself off, wiping tears from her eyes. Whatever happens next in her dreams, she's clearly terrified.

Before he can think about it, Gally opens his mouth. "I get nightmares, too," he admits. "It's... one of the reasons I keep working at night. So I don't have to see them."

"What are they about?" she asks, voice wobbly. "I mean... only if you don't mind."

He does mind, but he doesn't dare tell her that. "Mostly... things I can't remember. Sometimes I wake up and feel like I've been drowning, but I don't remember what causes it. Other times... when I can remember them..."

He sighs, debating with himself. He's already broken almost every single rule for this girl, he might as well tell her.

"Other times, I dream about you," he mumbles. "Sometimes happy, sometimes sad or angry. The worst ones are... where you die. And I can't save you."

"Gally..."

He looks at her as her breath catches in her throat, and she's already staring at him with wide eyes. The light from the full moon makes her look even paler than normal, casting a cool toned glow over her. Her freckles stand out more than usual, and he wonders vaguely if he'd ever be able to count them all.

Part of him wants to try, but his thoughts are interrupted when she speaks again.

"My worst ones involve you getting stung by a Griever," she admits. "And I can't do anything to help you. You just... you're in so much pain."

Now it's Gally's turn to stare breathlessly.

Him? Not... not Newt? She'd mentioned having dreams about what had happened to Newt, but they weren't the worst she feared?

Gally cautiously pushes a lock of hair away from Ash's face, and she leans into his hand, ever so slightly. Her eyes dip from his, toward his mouth, before making contact with his own eyes again.

That's all the encouragement he needs at this moment, and he ducks in to press his lips to hers. She kisses him back, grabbing his hand still near her face.

Holy shit.

Every inch of his body is on fire, but nowhere is hotter than his mouth, where it meets hers— his hand, where she's holding it. Gally had never thought this would happen. That she'd be kissing him back like this—

But then Ash pulls away, her brown eyes wide in shock, and she lets go of his hand to cover her own mouth. She mumbles something into her hand, and Gally thinks it might have been his name.

His brows furrow in confusion and hurt. "Let me guess," he says slowly, a coldness creeping over him from the inside out. "You didn't mean to do that. You're sorry. You regret it— it was a mistake?"

Her eyes widen impossibly further, and she quickly shakes her head. "No, Gally— never!" she says, breathing heavily. She quickly grabs his hand again. "That was very much intentional, and you will never pry an apology for that from me— unless... unless you want me to...?" She falters, looking back down at their joined hands.

The hurt fades, though the confusion doesn't. "No, but— then what? Why do you look like that was exactly what you were gonna say?"

"Gally, I just..." she stops, and bites her lip. "I really, really like you— more than anyone else here. I just... I don't want to start something like that here, in the Glade. Especially since... I'm the only girl." Her eyes widen slightly as she shrugs. Her lip trembles ever so slightly; if he hadn't seen it start, he may not have noticed.

Gally sighs, and squeezes her hand gently. "Ash, I—"

"Don't," she whispers, looking down. Her eyes are watery once more, and Gally feels his heart sink in his chest. "Don't tell me that part doesn't matter, because it does. I'm not an idiot— I know half the guys here probably have crushes on me."

"More," Gally corrects, and she blushes.

"But that's because I'm the only girl here," she stresses. "They don't have any other options, unless they start crushing on each other. They don't know any other girls. Statistically, do you really think I'm everyone here's type? I mean... just look at me, I'm—"

"You're gorgeous," Gally says immediately, before he can stop himself. Ash blushes again, glancing away, and she clearly doesn't quite believe him. "I'm serious. You're prettier than any of the shanks around here."

"Until another girl comes along," she says softly. "Just... I can't, Gally. I couldn't take it if we started something, and then you changed your mind as soon as another girl came along." He scowls again.

"So what... we just go back to how things were half an hour ago?" he asks. "Pretend none of this just happened?"

"I— I don't know," Ash admits. "Just for a while? Until we either leave the Glade, or until there are a few more girls here?"

Gally huffs, letting go of her hand as he turns. "If that's really how you feel, fine." He starts to walk away, but Ash hurries after him, racing in front of his path.

"Gally, please understand," she begs softly, putting one hand on his chest. He sighs, looking down at where they're touching.

"I do," he says. "I get it... the Glade's a dangerous place. Especially for you."

"Gally, I'm not worried about anyone getting jealous—"

"No, I don't mean it like that," he says quietly. "Just... with every new Greenie, there's a period of time where they're adjusting to the fact that you're here with us, and none of us know how they'll react. If they'll be like Arthur, who followed you around like an innocent puppy— or if they'll be like Josh, who stalked you like a predator after his next meal."

She nods slowly, accepting that explanation.

"Gally," she says again, and god does he love how she says his name. The way her lips form each sound, the way her tongue just barely peeks out on the L's.

Swallowing harshly, he asks quietly, "Can I just... kiss you, one more time?"

Ash looks up at him, tears in her eyes, and nods. She leans up on her toes to meet him as best she can, and he stoops the rest of the way. Cupping her face with both hands, Gally savors every second. Their lips move together, hungry and desperate. It feels an awful lot like a goodbye, because it is in a way... but it's also a hello. It's a 'see you soon'.

It's a promise.

Neither of them ever want it to end, but it has to. They both have to breathe eventually. Gally is the first to pull away this time, and he rests his forehead on hers.

"No matter what happens," she says breathlessly, her voice soft and possibly his favorite sound, "please don't doubt how I feel about you. Don't forget this moment."

"I won't," he promises, his eyes still closed. He feels her lips brush against his cheek, and then she's gone.

He still doesn't open his eyes, wanting to dedicate every cell in his body to committing that moment to memory, just as he'd promised. By the time he's done, Ash is long gone. Gally's not sure if she went to her room, or if she went to the Medjack hut, but it doesn't matter.

He goes to his hammock, knowing he still won't be able to sleep, but it wouldn't hurt to try. Staring at the thatched ceiling above him— one of his first building projects when he arrived in the Glade— he recalls the first time they'd properly met, when he'd cut his hand and she'd patched him up in the middle of the night.

He'd spent a good hour or so still unable to sleep that night, but because he couldn't stop thinking about her. He'd tried to convince himself she was dangerous, a threat to the Glade. Clearly he'd failed at that.

He wonders how many rules he'd be willing to break for her. He's already done a few— harming another Glader (Josh) comes to mind. After tonight, he's sure he'd break more if the need arose. Not for fun, or just because he wants to break the rules. Of course not.

But if Ash asked him, he'd do anything.