Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I wake to the sounds of clanking and rattling, my eyes flying open as a chasm of crippling feeling of fear and anxiety opens in the pit of my stomach. Where am I? Lights flicker in and out from an ominous, large red bulb in the corner of wherever I am. I sit up, taking in my surroundings warily, I seem to be laying in the middle of a metal box that won’t stop moving up. I notice three crate-looking boxes stacked in the corner, a cage taking up half the enclosure that holds at least five chickens flapping their wings wildly about, and a stack of blankets sitting on top of an iron rain barrel. I scoot back against the crates, keeping my eyes on the frightened chickens while the metal box keeps climbing and in the back of my mind I think that if this weird elevator suddenly stopped working, I would plummet to my death.

Poor chickens, I relate to their hysteria but try to keep calm. Nothing good ever happens from panicking. A voice whispers in my mind, it sounds familiar but I can’t reach out and grasp the words, it feels like a memory that’s rapidly disappearing from my mind. The realization that I don’t have any memories at all has my heart beating faster in my chest, slamming against my ribcage and tightening my lungs so my breath comes out in short bursts of air. I need to get out. I search my mind for anything, any more familiar words or figments of pictures that seems too close to be made up but I come up with nothing, which only terrifies me more. So much for not panicking.

The contraption finally stops with a loud clang, the crates jerking forward against my back from the force of the stop. I hug my knees to my chest and shrink back as far as I can into the shadows of the box, waiting with bated breath for something to happen. Light shines in my eyes from above, bright and glaring and I look away, arm over my face to shield myself from the sudden strike. I brave a look, my eyes squinting to adjust to the scene above me and a scream claws at my throat when I focus on a crowd of people looming over the rim of the metal box. I shove the scream down and try to move away but I’m already pressed against the wall of the elevator, so I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut, willing whatever is happening to me to be over. I must be dreaming. I dig my nails into my scalp but it does nothing except hurt my head, I’m still not awake. Not a dream then.

“Hey, everyone needs to back up, give her some space.” A male voice calls out, muffled by my palms pressed tightly to my ears. I don't dare open my eyes and I silently beg the voice not to hurt me, willing them to leave me alone and send this cursed contraption back down. My breathing is ragged and broken and I'm trying to be quiet but tears are clogging my throat, my head pounding from the effort it takes to keep from crying. The box rattles suddenly right before something touches my shoulder and I flinch back, hitting my head painfully against the cage. I'm unable to stop the sob that breaks free and I think I'm going to throw up, maybe that'll get them to leave me alone, whoever they are.

“P-please… Don't hurt me.” I beg, pathetic I know but I can't particularly find it in me to care when I'm this scared and have no idea what's going on.

“No one is going to hurt you. Can you open your eyes? I'm here to help.”

What ifs run through my brain at an alarming pace and I really don't want to open my eyes but this person could have answers about where the hell I am, so I relent and crack my eyes open, coming face to face with the voice. He's tall with dark skin and a shaved head that's almost completely bald, he's got a wide, strong build that almost blocks my view behind him. He looks at me with serious eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek till I taste blood.

“Where am I?” I murmur finally, the boy sighs and stands, reaching his hand down in offering. I stare at it before grabbing on with shaky fingers and letting him pull me up off the floor of the cage, our heads peak out over the top and I look around to see a large expanse of grass and trees. There are people, all staring at me with blank expressions that make my skin crawl and I avert my eyes, glancing back at the boy who still hasn’t answered my question.

“This is the Glade. The box we’re standing in right now sends supplies and one person up every month. You probably don’t remember anything so-”

“How do you know I don’t remember anything?” I didn’t tell him, did I? No, I would've remembered telling him that. Unless I forgot that too.

“Because everyone here has been in your position. None of us have any memory of our lives before the Glade and some of us don’t even remember our names.”

Oh. Dread forms in my gut as I realize I have no clue what my name is. The boy seems to see my panic because he grabs my shoulders with big hands and turns me to face him. “Hey, hey it’s okay, don't panic. Some people remember their name eventually and even if you don’t we can come up with something. I’m Alby, I don’t know my real name but the one I have is as real as whatever I was called before.”

That doesn’t make me feel much better but I nod and try to take a deep breath, I need to get out of this stupid elevator. Almost as if he had heard my thoughts, Alby climbs out of the box and reaches back in to pull me up and out. When I’m on my feet, I notice the huge cement walls surrounding us with a gap on one side that leads to some kind of giant hall. I can’t see where it goes though and my stomach churns with anxiety again, what the hell is this place?

“Who put us here?” And why? I have so many burning questions and I think I’ll explode if they go unanswered.

“We don’t know. Some evil shank that gets off on the misery of children probably.” Alby says, shrugging his shoulders like he’s telling me about the weather. How is everyone here so calm?

“How many of you are there?” I ask, avoiding the eyes of all the boys staring at me everywhere I look. Why are there so many boys? I can feel their stares on me and my legs itch to run into the forest of trees in one corner of the Glade.

“Oh, probably a couple dozen or so Gladers.” He motions at me to follow him and together we stroll through the Glade. It’s quite humid, making the burnt orange overalls I’m wearing stick to my legs, a very unwelcome feeling but I’m soon distracted when we approach a big wooden structure. It’s made from logs and sticks and looks homemade, which impresses me since all the boys I’ve seen so far look like they’re only teenagers.

“Did you guys build this?” I ask, admiring the steady building.

“Yea we did, er well- the builders built it actually.” Alby tells me, I assume I know what the builders are as he pulls open a door I didn’t notice was there and holds it for me. I warily step inside and he follows behind me, letting the door swing shut before leading me down a small hallway and into a room. The first thing I notice is that there’s people in the room, a tall boy with messy blonde hair, pale white skin, and a lean build lounges on a stool against the wall on the opposite side of the room talking to a girl with short auburn hair that frames her face in waves, her tanned cheeks are dusted lightly with freckles and her warm hazel eyes meet mine when we enter the room. Her mouth is pulled up in a laugh at something the blonde boy said and she nods to Alby standing behind me against the door frame, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Is this the new Greenie?” The girl asks, looking me up and down. She pushes off the wall that she had been leaning on and crosses the room to us. “I’m Bliss and this guy’s Newt. Welcome to the Glade. Is it okay if I take a look at you for any injuries? I can also answer any more questions you have that Alby hasn’t answered.”

I’m so incredibly relieved to see another girl here that all I can manage is a small nod. She pads over to a small cot and pats it for me to sit down, when I do she shoos Alby and Newt out of the room and drags Newt’s stool over to where I sit, plopping down in front of me.

“So… Who all have you met so far?” She asks, gently turning my arms over to check for any wounds and brushing my tangled brown hair off of my shoulders. She tilts my head side-to-side, examining me and I fidget with my hands in my lap.

“Uh, just Alby, you, and Newt I guess. It’s really good to know that I’m not the only girl here.” She smiles and nods, pulling back to prop her chin on her hand and skim my body for anything she might’ve missed.

“I feel you there, I was the first girl here so you can imagine how happy I was when other girls started arriving. Does anything hurt?” I shake my head.

“That must’ve been really scary. Do people often come here hurt?” I feel fine, besides the pit of nausea and anxiety in my stomach, there’s nothing physically amiss as far as I can tell.

“Not usually but I had a head injury and was bleeding when I got here so we made it a priority to check everyone just in case.” She stares at me curiously and stands, walking over creaking floorboards to a series of drawers stacked atop each other against the wall by the door. “Do you feel any internal pain at all? Nausea, headache, cramping of any sort?”

“I’m feeling pretty nauseous actually, yeah.” She nods and pulls open the top drawer, digging around before her hand retracts, holding a small white bottle. Moving back over to me, she shakes a couple pink pills out of the bottle and into her hand before holding her closed fist out to me and dropping the pills into my waiting hand.

“I’ll be right back with some water.” She states while turning and strolling out of the room, leaving me to sit on the cot and chew the inside of my cheek with nerves. When Bliss returns she’s carrying a big glass jar of water and she hands it to me. I swallow the pills and gulp down a few extra swigs of the clear liquid, the feeling of it rushing down my dry throat is soothing after crying and almost throwing up so much.

“So, what exactly is the Glade?” I ask finally, holding the glass jar in my lap with both hands. Bliss sits back down on the stool and puckers her lips in thought.

“It’s a sort of farm that sits in the middle of a giant maze. The big doorway you probably noticed leads to the maze and some of us go explore it everyday to try and find an escape, those people are called ‘runners.’ However, the doors close at sundown to keep the grievers out, and us in.” That’s not ominous at all.

“Grievers?” I don’t love the sound of that, and why do they need to be kept out?

“Yup. They’re these weird humongous scorpion-looking creatures that roam the maze at night. They have stingers so I wouldn’t recommend running into one, but you’ll be fine as long as you stay out of the maze past sundown.” You’ve got to be shitting me. The hairs on my arms stand up and the pit in my stomach widens.

“How do you not run into them during the day? How do you know they’re all gone by morning?” I ask. I’m squeezing the jar in my lap too tightly and I loosen my grip before I shatter the glass.

“We don’t really know where they disappear to… but I can assure you they’re all gone by morning. Our runners have scoured the maze and it’s like they just cease to exist.” She shrugs. How is everyone so chill about this? Here I am internally freaking out and Bliss just shrugged like she isn’t telling me about a giant scorpion monster that stings you.

“Okay…” I try to process all this information as easily as I can without breaking down in terror and I think I do well because Bliss just smiles at me and waits for me to continue with my questions. “Alby said you guys have builders and you told me about the runners… Are those like jobs? Are there others?”

She nods and clears her throat, “Yes. We have builders who obviously build all the structures, animal pens, stuff like that around here, runners scope out the maze, cooks make the food for everyone-we only have two meals a day to conserve food-breakfast and dinner, slicers and bloodhousers keep and kill the animals that the box sends up and gets fresh meat to the cooks. Track-hoes and gardeners grow the fruits and veggies, med-jacks such as myself are the doctors of the glade, we do our best to help if anyone gets injured or something, and uh, then there’s the baggers, they bury the bodies when anyone dies.”

“How many people have died?” My eyes widen, she says it as if it’s a job that has to be done often.

“Well I don’t know exactly, some people have killed themselves and some people are plain stupid shanks and get stuck in the maze. No one who spends the night in the maze really lives to tell the tale. But, you seem smart. I’m sure you’ll be fine here.”

I don’t really know what to say after that. Just stay inside the walls and I’ll be fine I think. Bliss asks me if I’m in any pain again before leaving the room to give me some space and I lay back on the cot, placing the jar of water on the floor next to me and staring up at the wooden boards on the ceiling. I realize a few minutes later that I’m stuck here, and I don’t even know my own name.

Chapter Text

The air smells different here. I don’t have anything to compare it to but it’s fresher, cleaner, it’s not stale or strong. I wander around the garden aimlessly, sticking my nose in flowers and admiring the giant vegetables growing in troughs. There is fencing all around the vegetables, adorned with vines and lush green leaves and the sun spreads its rays all over the plants, giving them an even fresher look. I kneel down in front of a patch of pumpkins and pick up a cute little round one, turning it in my hands. It’s perfectly round and shiny compared to the other pumpkins and even the thick prickly vine attached to it is somehow stronger and curlier than the others.

“Hey, Greenie.” I startle, dropping the pumpkin back into the trough and falling back onto my ass. I recognize Newt standing next to me and I feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Sorry, you scared me.” He chuckles and holds out his hand for me to take, helping me off the ground. “I was just admiring your pumpkins- uh, you are a gardener right?”

“That would be correct. I’m glad you think so, people don’t appreciate the garden often enough.” I dust off my overalls and realise the European lilt to his voice, British I think. His hands rest on his hips and his eyes travel over the growing garden inspectingly, the sleeves of the light cream shirt he wears are rolled up to his elbows and a brown belt-like strap crosses over his chest, holding a small bag at his back. I assume there are supplies or weapons or maybe food in it, I know I’d keep snacks on me all the time if I had a bag like his. I wonder what they eat around here. Are they gonna kill and eat the chickens that came up with me in the box? I hope so, chicken sounds good. Someone taps my shoulder.

“Huh?” I look up from where I was staring at the ground, Newt’s expectant expression contorts into a laugh and he shakes his head at me. I feel my face get hot again and I smile nervously to banish the feeling of shame in my chest.

“I asked if you would be interested in becoming a gardener. Everyone gets a job when they come to the Glade and usually they test out all of the different roles to see which one is fitting… but if you’re cut out for gardening then you can skip all that jazz.”

“Yea, maybe. I’ll think about it.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and attempt to square my shoulders, taking a deep breath. Gardening sounds like it could be nice, but I want to see what other jobs there are first, like when Alby mentioned the builders. The sound of building big structures like the homestead is very appealing to me, it could be really fun and I have the strength I think I would need.

“Hey Newt! Oh, is this the new Greenie?” A pale boy appears around the corner of a trough, waving at us with a friendly grin stretched across his rosy cheeks with brown curly hair piled all around his head. He's clad in a tan t-shirt and a thin orange vest on top paired with some dirty, brown cargo shorts. All of his clothes are baggy on his plump body and he carries a large hand-woven basket at his side, a few ripe cucumbers sitting at the bottom.

“Yeah, this is her.” He slings an arm around the boy who is much shorter than him and points with his free hand at the kid’s chest. “This is Chuck. He’s another gardener.”

“I like your tattoo!” He tells me, throwing out his hand in front of me to shake it. I do, smiling cordially.

“Thanks. I would tell you my name but I don’t know it.” He nods sympathetically and moves with his basket to pick cucumbers from the trough, plopping them into his basket.

“I get that. I remembered my name eventually so maybe you will too.” He tells me, his voice is full of genuine hope and it makes me feel like I might have a chance at remembering at least my name. Newt picks up an empty basket leaning against the trough and holds it out to me.

“Wanna help?” He asks and I take the basket, holding it with both arms encircling the weaves.

“Sure. Are we just collecting all the vegetables?” I pick a heavy cucumber hanging from a vine and set it in the basket. It rolls around, bumping into the walls of the bin when I pass Chuck to reach for another cucumber.

“Just cucumbers. Fry needs them for the dinner meal. I gotta talk to Alby, Chuck can answer any other questions you have.” Newt tells me before patting Chuck on the back and treading his way out of the garden.

“Who’s Fry?” I ask, dropping another vegetable into the basket.

“It’s short for Frypan. He’s the keeper of the cooks. They make all the meals and such.” Chuck sets down his basket and picks up another empty one, beginning to fill it as well.

We collect three baskets full of cucumbers before Chuck sighs and wipes the sweat from his forehead, sitting down on the edge of the trough. “I think three full baskets should be enough for the whole Glade’s dinner. Help me bring them to the kitchen?”

“Yeah of course.” I pick up my basket from where it was resting against the aluminum and round the trough to meet Chuck who’s struggling to hold both his baskets up. “Here let me.” I move my basket to the crook of one arm and hoist one of Chuck’s to rest on my shoulder.

“Okay then. Nice muscles.” He nods, impressed and carries his basket against his chest.

“Thanks.” I follow Chuck back to the homestead but instead of going inside he shuffles around to the back where a massive tent stands, nailed to the back wall of the homestead. We duck inside and are immediately met with a cloud of steam, someone shouting orders at people, and every person busy with one task or another, not paying attention to Chuck and I as we weave our way through the bodies running around.

“Fry!” Chuck shouts, making a beeline for a long wooden table towards the back of the tent. A boy stands at the end of the table, shouting something at a smaller boy over the commotion. He turns to us at the sounds of his name and grins at Chuck, placing his hands on his hips.

“Three baskets. My my my, thanks for the goods.” Fry has dark skin and cropped black hair, a white t-shirt and a thick brown apron covering his wide frame. He’s not very tall but he’s strong from what I can tell with how easily he takes the baskets I’m holding, Chuck setting the last one onto the table beside us. “I almost forgot that it’s box day. Nice to meet ya Greenie, I’m Fry.”

“Nice to meet you too.” I nod, stepping out of the way as another person rushes past me. Fry and Chuck talk some more while I lean against the table, waiting. Someone taps me on the shoulder and I turn to see a girl looking up at me and smiling, she’s at least three inches shorter than me but looks the same age. Her dark brown hair is cut just below her ears and her tanned skin crinkles at the corners of her downturned eyes when she smiles. I notice the many piercings on her ears and the one hooked on her left nostril, the silver catching in the firelight of the tent, freckles spread lightly over her cheeks and nose. A cloudy green tank top clings to her body along with a pair of darker green cargo pants, pockets decorating the sides all the way to her dirty sneakers.

“Heard someone say Greenie. My name’s Pav.” I smile in greeting and I wish I could tell her my name but it seems that I’m just going to be Greenie for the foreseeable future.

“Are you a cook?” I ask, trying to add something to the conversation if not my name.

“I am. I’m kinda like Fry’s second in command, I help carry out orders during meals and things.” Sounds pretty straightforward but the thought of cooking every single day sounds less than appetizing. I nod along as she starts telling me about the different recipes her and Fry have made together. They seem like really good friends from what she tells me and it gives me hope that maybe I can make a home here how they have. I might as well try seeing as there’s no apparent escape.

“Cinnamon, can you take these veggies to the sink to be cleaned?” Fry asks and I realize he’s talking to Pav, ending our conversation to my disappointment but I understand that they’re very busy. Wait, did he call her cinnamon? That’s so cute I have to stop myself from gushing at the pet name. Are they dating or something, or are they just really close? I decide to mind my own business and follow Chuck out of the tent and back out into the fresh air. I didn’t realize how stuffy it was in there until I left and could suddenly breathe ten times easier.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t have a job here yet and until dinner is ready for the day-which Chuck said would take at least another hour-I have time to do whatever I want I suppose.

“Hey! Greenie!” Someone shouts from behind me. I turn to find yet another boy talking to me, except this one is running right at me, breathless. He’s tall. So tall in fact that he towers over me by almost a whole foot, and I’m a tall person myself. He has light brown almost blonde hair that’s shaved close to his head and dark brown eyes that bore into mine as he approaches. His arms are corded with muscle and the murky brown shirt he wears stretches across his chest, he’s strong. “Sorry I just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Gally.”

Chapter Text

I don’t know what made me go over there but something told me I needed to. I saw her in the box, almost everyone did. We’re all curious when we get another kid to see who it is, especially since they started sending up girls. She was so scared. Most people are when they first get here but not like she was, cowering in a corner and refusing to uncover her eyes when the box opened. I wanted to stay but Alby is always better at comforting the Greenies than I ever will be, so I got back to work building the new lookout. I’d been watching her explore the Glade from afar, every time she smiled her cheeks indented with dimples and it fascinated me. She didn’t smile a lot, still getting used to her new surroundings I guess but my brain keeps telling me I need to talk to her.

I finally find an opening when she and Chuck are walking through the Glade. I hope she’s not busy with anything but I also don’t care, I jog up to her, calling for her and she turns warily. I’ve been too far away to really notice many of her features until now but she’s beautiful and I shock myself with the realization. Her hair is a muted brown and it falls down her back in tangles, there are thin white scars scattered all over her shoulders and a few small ones marring her face which are almost impossible to see and I mentally pat myself on the back for being so observant.

She has a butterfly tattoo right below her collarbones and a silver piercing on the bridge of her nose, along with multiple other piercings on her ears. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her brown eyes scan me carefully as if she’s considering whether I’m a threat or not. That thought makes me smile. She’s strong as well, I saw her carrying two full baskets of cucumbers earlier and those things are not light so I’m not surprised when I notice her arms built firmly with muscle. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her burnt orange corduroy overalls, the black tank top she wears peeking out from behind the straps.

“Sorry I just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Gally.” I hold out a calloused hand to her and she takes it with one of the biggest sideways glances I’ve ever seen, almost making me laugh.

“Nice to meet you. I don’t know my name.” She responds dryly, this time she really does make me laugh, I nod along in understanding. I hope she’s one of the ones who remembers, I want to know her name. Chuck gives me a look from beside the Greenie and I glare at him out of the corner of my eye, I know he’s suspicious of my behavior, hell I am too. I never act this cordially towards most people, especially Greenies. This one's different though and I tell myself it’s because she would obviously be useful as a builder with all those muscles.

“Well, have you tried out any of the gigs around yet?” I ask her, she seems uncomfortable and drops my hand to hide it back in her pocket but that checks out I guess with her being new and all. I had been truly confused and agitated for at least the first month after I showed up in the Glade, not many people could even get near me because I was so restless and nearly threw hands with half the boys here.

“Sorta. I helped a little bit with the gardening but that’s it.” She scans my face curiously and I feel smaller under her scrutiny despite being a head taller than her. She glances over at Chuck briefly with an almost guilty expression before chewing the inside of her cheek and meeting my eyes. “Didn’t really feel like it was my thing though. I think I’ll keep looking.”

“We can always use another builder if you’re interested. You look like you could be very useful.” She nods and a dimple makes an appearance when she finally smiles at me. God, I want her to do that again. I think absently before Chuck clears his throat and I turn my head to see a smirk pulling at his mouth and his narrowed eyes boring into mine.

“Welp, Alby will only wait so long!” Chuck finally says and I roll my eyes. “We should get going.”

“Come find me if you want to try it out, Greenie!” I call as they trudge through the glade together. I fight the urge to run after them and ask her again if she’ll try out to be a builder but I leave it be and rejoin the other builders at the lookout. It’s been difficult building such a tower with limited people and tools, most people find that other roles in the Glade suit them better because they lack the strength most of all, but also the motivation to take on a project like building a whole structure. The new Greenie could be a great edition to the team is all I’m saying.

“That the new Greenie?” Hank asks when I return. Hank is on the shorter side, probably around 5’6 but he’s useful and strong as hell. He’s got short brown hair and a saggy looking face but not ugly per se. He knows I’m trying to recruit people but it was sorta sudden when I ran off so fast to greet her. “She seems like a strong lass.”

“She is. Hopefully she’ll try out.” I respond absently, ignoring the way my gut twists with something unknown at Hank’s observation. Could he really tell from that far away?

“No doubt Alby will at least nudge her in our direction. She’d be great with liftin’ wood and hammering things.” Hank offers, wiping the sweat from his forehead when he hops down from the ladder we put on the tower to help us build it up. It’s a rickety piece of wood and we’re always at risk of it breaking but it’s all we got and we make it work.

“I’ll show her where she can hammer.” Adam pipes up from the top of the lookout, head poking over the edge to look down at us. My anger flares at his words and I want to rip out his stupid blonde hair with my fist.

“Can it, shank! If she joins this team I will not have you disrespecting her or I’ll throw you to the maze.” Adam rolls his eyes like the pig he is and disappears back to work on the lookout, the sound of wood and nails clattering around resuming now that he’s actually doing his job.

“I’m glad we might have another damn builder. We can finally get this thing finished.” Hank sighs, slapping his palm against a wooden beam. Hank is my favorite, he’s hardworking and doesn’t cause problems like Adam does. He takes orders well and gets shit done around here without having to be told constantly. Adam is the opposite, always cracking jokes that only he and his best friend, Carl-another builder-find funny, half-assing every job I give him, and lounging about when he’s supposed to be getting things done before the shucking sun sets. Out of all the annoying troublemakers in the Glade, Adam has spent the most time in the pit, courtesy of Alby.

“Me too. I just hope she’s interested, she could still pick something else so we shouldn’t get our hopes up yet.” My hopes are up. I’m crossing my fingers that she tries out sooner rather than later before she finds a better job. A lot of Greenies choose to work in the kitchen or the garden over the other jobs, we’ve lost many hefty Greenies to Frypan’s good cooking and I’ll be damned if I lose another one. That said it’s out of my control, I can only hope she wants to be a builder.

~~~

“Is Gally around?” I hear someone ask from below the lookout as I hammer a wood panel into the lookout decks fence. I perk up instantly, recognizing the female voice and I peek over the edge to see the Greenie talking to Hank over by the table of wood and tools we have set up near the lookout. She has her hands in her pockets again and her face is shadowed by the leaves of the tree hovering over them. I rush to put down my hammer and climb down the ladder as quickly as possible without breaking the ladder or myself, and jog over to Hank and the Greenie.

“Right here! I’m glad you decided to come.” I wave to her and reach between her and Hank to grab a cloth from the tool table, wiping the sweat from my face and neck.

“You’re still looking for another builder, right?” She asks, squinting at me with a hand over her face to shield herself from the sun. I move to stand by Hank so the sun isn’t in her eyes anymore and nod.

“That would be correct. You wanna help me with the lookout for a while? If you don’t think it fits you can always choose another job so don’t feel compelled to stay if it’s not for you.” I can feel Hank staring at me and I know I sound insane. “But we could really use another builder, and we’d love to have you.”

“Especially me!” Adam calls from under the lookout, urging me to go over there and punch him in his annoyingly symmetrical face.

“Ignore him, he’s challenged.” I grumble to the Greenie who is now watching the lookout like a hawk. Shucking Adam, if he’s the reason she chooses not to be a builder I will personally throw him to the grievers. “Shall we?”

We tread over to the lookout and I watch as she ascends the ladder, making sure she doesn’t fall or accidentally break the ladder. I follow her up and show her what I had been doing with the fence surrounding the deck. It's halfway built and nails are still sticking out of some of the panels, but with some help I can get it finished by the end of the day.

“You can use one of those hammers and just make sure all the nails are fully in. When you’re ready to put on a new panel I’ll show you how. Any questions?” I pick up my own hammer and crouch down to the fence, gesturing to the unfinished panels around us.

“I think I understand.” She tells me and we get to work, hammering the panels securely into the deck. She’s silent for a while and I want to talk to her but what do I even ask someone that doesn’t remember her own name? “Is Gally your real name?”

I’m so relieved that she said something first that I almost forgot to respond. “No. I’m one of the unlucky few that didn’t remember.” I glance over at her where she’s working on a panel beside me and find her staring at me as if she’s running possible names through her head already. “I’m sure you’ll remember though, half the shanks here do. You seem fairly resilient.”

“I hope so. I don’t think I want to be called ‘Greenie’ for the rest of my life.” I huff out a chuckle and she stands looking down at her work. She’s good at this, the panels are perfectly aligned with each other and the nails are firmly in the wood, not one of them bent.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something on the off chance that you don’t remember. We managed for me, and newt, and all the others.” I stand to face her and she’s biting the inside of her cheek again and I can tell she’s worrying about remembering her name, for some reason it means a lot to her. I clear my throat and pick up a few loose panels from the deck, handing them to her. I need to keep her busy and bring some color back into her face before she chews her whole cheek off. “Let’s finish this fence up. Hold the panel up for me and I’ll nail it into place.”

She takes the panels with a faraway look in her eyes, the sunny brown color dimmed somehow. I hate it, I don’t think I’ve hated anything more. Shaking my head I reach down to pick up a handful of nails from the floor when I hear a shrill scream, my head snaps up to see the Greenie disappear over the edge of the deck, her screams cutting off abruptly and my stomach drops with dread. I don’t want to look over the edge but I do, the deck creaking under my worn boots as I dare to peek down the lookout. I curse when I see her body laying on the ground, knocked the hell out at the base of the lookout. The wooden panels are scattered around her but thankfully nowhere close so they probably didn’t hit her. I hastily scurry down the ladder and rush to her side, Hank right behind me, there’s no blood but she must’ve hit her head to be knocked out like this.

“Jesus, go get Bliss and Clint. Now!” I shout at Hank and slide my arms under the girl’s back and knees as gently as possible without rattling her further. She could have a concussion or internal bleeding or a thousand other dumbass medical terms I don’t even know. I carry her swiftly through the Glade all the way to the homestead where Hank, Bliss, and Clint rush to meet me outside.

“Hand her over, come with me.” Clint orders me, taking her limp body from my arms and my chest repulses with the urge to slap his hands away and carry her myself but he’s the medjack so I allow him to take her and follow him into the homestead. The room is stale when we enter and he and Bliss lay the Greenie onto the small bed in the corner and surround her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were working on the lookout and I heard a scream and she just fell over the deck where the fence wasn't built yet.” I tell them, pacing back and forth through the room while they fuss about her.

“I think I can help with that.” Hank adds, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t know how she fell but when I heard her scream I looked and saw her falling. She hit her head on a beam on the way down so she was already knocked out when she hit the ground but she landed feet first.” My stomach churns at the mental picture of her hitting her head on a beam. God, I should’ve watched her closer or made her nail the panels in place while I set them up so she wasn’t near the edge. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I even care?

“I don’t think she’s concussed and nothing’s broken so we just have to wait it out. You two can go back to work and I can watch her.” Bliss finally says after long minutes of waiting in silence. Hank nods and slaps my shoulder before leaving the homestead but I shake my head and cross the room to the bed.

“No. I’m staying. It’s my fault she fell, I’m going to stay with her.” Bliss sighs and Clint shrugs before walking away as well.

“Did you push her?” Bliss asks, arms crossed over her chest.

“No.”

“Then she’s not your responsibility. Stay if you’d like but don’t beat yourself up for something you had no control over, Gally.”

She leaves without another word and I slump into the stool by the bed, watching the rise and fall of the Greenie’s chest. That’s a good sign I guess. I don’t even know why I’m sitting here right now, I barely know the girl and she’s barely talked to me but I’m so unbelievably curious about her. I have to make sure she’s okay because if she dies my curiosity will be just that, curiosity. I can’t get answers from a corpse. So I’m staying by her side for research purposes, right? You dumb shank. An hour goes by before my mind takes everything too far again and I’m pacing the homestead, the Greenie still passed out on the cot. Maybe Bliss was right and I should just get back to work and stop blaming myself. Then I laugh and break the silence that has been suffocating me for the last hour. Who am I kidding? Bliss is never right. Pacing back and forth however is not going to get anything done so I stare down at the girl for a few more seconds before stomping out of the homestead and back to the lookout.

Guilt tears at my chest when I see the wood panels still sitting sprawled out on the ground. Why didn’t I do anything? One by one, I pick up the panels and attempt to carry them up the ladder to the lookout deck, but when I reach the top I startle and they tumble out of my arms and scatter once again. My eyes zero in on a large nail sticking up out of the deck and I kneel in front of it, something’s wedged around the metal and when I pick it off it’s rubbery and black. Shuck, it’s a piece of her shoe. I think to myself, the nail is a few feet away from the edge of the lookout where there isn’t a fence yet so she probably tripped on it. Before I run back to the homestead I realize: It is my fault.