I'm seated on a cot in a medical wing of sorts, rinsing the dried blood off of my hand. The two men I'd injured earlier are in the room as well, both glaring at me from their cots across the room. A woman sits by the man I'd stabbed, a man by the one I'd cut, each tending to their wounds. I was left to clean my own wound.

I don't mind taking care of myself, though. I've been doing it for so long that I'd almost forgotten how not to. I wouldn't accept help from them if they'd offered anyway. They're not Clint or Jeff.

I gently scrub the blood off my hand, watching the water turn a rusty red. My gaze is so focused on the water that I don't even hear the footsteps approaching me. 

"Hey," a voice says, oddly deep. I jump and shoot to my feet, whipping around at the unfamiliar voice. I look up and meet his sapphire blue eyes, inhaling a sharp breath. He raises his hands in surrender, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "If I'd known you'd almost kill me, I wouldn't have snuck up on you like that. Sorry," he mutters that last part.

"Whatever," I reply, sitting back down and lowering my gaze to my hand. There's still some blood in my nailbeds, but that's not an unfamiliar sight for me. I stick my hand back in the bucket of dirty water however, giving my hands something to do besides fiddle with my necklace.

He stands there awkwardly, his hands awkwardly at his side. I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye, wishing quickly that I hadn't. My cheeks burn and I clench my jaw, forcing myself to look away again.

"Can I..." he trails off, his voice soft in the quiet of the room. I can hear the doctors talking to the two men in soft voices, but I know they're all listening to us, eager to hear the drama between the boy believed to be dead and the girl stupid enough to punch him and nearly slit his throat earlier.

Without waiting for an answer, he pulls up a chair and sits down by my cot, keeping his distance, yet close enough so that I can smell his familiar earthy scent. 

"Help yourself then," I mutter, my tone sharp. I keep my eyes cast down, feeling his gaze on me the whole time. I know that he wants to say something to me, but that he doesn't know what exactly would be the right thing to say. After all, I'd thought he was dead for almost a year, if not that. I'd mourned him. It's not like I can just move on and we can start back where we'd left off.

"Solid punch earlier, by the way. You definitely know how to leave a mark," he says into the awkward silence. 

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh, drying off my hand and grabbing the gauze wrap from beside me. "Yeah, well, I had plenty of practice."

"You're certainly more confrontational than I remember. I mean, stabbing two men is pretty impressive," he says. I shrug, focusing my eyes on my hand as I begin to wrap it. 

"Your friends were trying to kidnap me. What, did you think I'd just go quietly?" I snap, my voice unsteady at his touch.

My hands are shaking, making it difficult to wrap around my battered skin. "Here, let me," Gally says and, before I can protest, he gently takes my hand in his and starts winding the gauze around my skin.

I glance up at him. His gaze is fixed on my hand, so I have a moment to really look at him. His tongue is pressed against the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can see the way his face has filled out, making him look much older and stronger than he is. His jaw is sharper, clenched as he works. His hands are warm and I don't miss the way my skin tingles when his fingertips graze it.

Then, he looks up at me. He meets my gaze before I have time to tear my eyes away and, suddenly, I'm lost in them; in him. The world around me disappears and it's just the two of us, staring at each other just like we used to. I can't look away. The twinkle that was so often in his eyes is there again as a small, barely there smile graces his face.

And then, anger begins coursing through my veins. I'm still staring at him, but the calm that had washed over me a moment ago has disappeared. Because his eyes haven't changed. They're the same, sweet, bright blue that I remember. They're the eyes I fell in love with; the ones that were my favorite color. They look the exact same as I remember, and I hate him for it.

His gaze is soft, just like it was that night. I can feel the ghost of the muzzle of his gun on my forehead, shaking slightly with his hand.

"It's me, Gal. Remember?" My voice echoes in my ears. "It's just you and me, Gal. Just you and me, okay? I love you. It's okay."

I blink and it's gone, replaced by the horrible sounds he'd made before falling to the ground, a spear lodged in his chest. I hear my guttural scream, which ripped my throat to shreds as I fell beside him. My knees stung as the glass cut them, a pool of our crimson blood around us.

I hear my voice shouting for the others to help and pleading with him to stay alive; to keep breathing. I see his face before me, pale and coated with sweat, the life leaving his eyes.

"Go. Be free. I'm yours, okay? Always," he'd said, his words slurred together. "Maybe in another life."

I glance down at my hand in his and, suddenly, they're covered with blood again. His and everyone else's. I blink and the blood is gone. I force my eyes up again, but it's always there in the back of my mind, the blood. Their faces haunt my mind, a constant reminder that they're dead and I'm not; that I'm the reason they're all dead.

His eyes flick down to my jaw, where I'm sure there's a bruise from where the man I'd slashed had punched me. He looks as if he's fighting the urge to lean out and touch it. "Enough," I finally say in a sharp voice. I stare at him a moment longer, but then, his eyes are lifeless, staring up at the ceiling as I'm ripped away from his body, which is lying in front of me, stiff and motionless. I blink back the memory as a lump forms in my throat. I direct my eyes to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose. Anything but his eyes. I rip my hand away from him, looking down at the wrap instead.

"Venus, I didn't... I didn't mean to upset you. I was just... I just wanted to talk," Gally tries, but I don't respond. "It just took me by surprise that you were so confrontational. You just used to hate all the fighting, that's all."

"Yeah, well, people change," I mutter. "And your friends deserved it."

"We were following orders! You're the one who decided to get fuckin' violent!" One of the men yells. My gaze snaps over to him; the one I'd stabbed. He has long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. His dark skin is sheaned with sweat as he grips onto a spot just above his wrapped thigh, where dried blood clings to the bandage. 

"You're lucky I-"

"Stop it," Gally barks, but when I look over at him, his gaze is fixed on the man laying across from us. "Quit arguin' and get some rest." He turns back to me, holding out an object in his hand. "I almost forgot. Thought you might want it back."

I look down at the object, recognizing it as my pocket knife. I don't look at him as I take it back, placing it in my pocket.

"Oh, that's smart. Give the girl back the weapon she nearly killed us with. Want her to finish the job, do you? I have no doubt that she would," the man sneers. My face burns as I look over at him, clenching my jaw to keep from lunging at him and strangling him. He'd deserve it if I did, though.

"She's not gonna kill ya. I know her," Gally says, but something inside of me burns when he says that.

The man cocks an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he says, "got a soft spot for the girl, do you, Leo?"

"Leo?" I snap, my eyebrows shooting up. Gally's face reddens and he shoots the man a warning look, which seems to shut him up. He turns back to me. "You go by Leo now?" I ask in slight disbelief. He used to hate when I'd call him that.

He shrugs, as if to say it's no big deal. I stand up, shaking my head, my hands trembling slightly. I run them through my hair, not even bothering to look at him as I storm out of the medical wing, forgetting entirely to wash the blood and dirt off my face. 

I don't get far when he grabs onto my arm and pulls me back, forcing me to turn around and face him. I can barely meet his eyes for more than a second before averting my gaze again, my veins pulsing with hot anger. 

He towers over me, casting a shadow over my face. "You can't just run off like that, Venus!"

"I can do whatever the hell I want," I snap back. Gally rolls his eyes, running his free hand over his hair.

"Not here you can't. Quit bein' stubborn." I let out a scoff, wrenching my arm out of his grip. I glare up at him, hating him even more for how damn tall he is. Gally lets out a loud, frustrated sigh, running his hands over his face. I avert my gaze, forcing myself to look away from his eyes. "Look at me," he says after a moment, his voice soft and calm.

I reply stubbornly, "no."

"Look at me," he repeats, reaching out for my chin. I jerk away from him, stumbling back a few steps. He reaches out to steady me, but I place a warning hand in front of me, my bottom lip quivering slightly.

"Don't touch me."

I can hear the pain in his voice when he asks, "why can't you look at me? Is it what I did that night? Is it because of Chuck?" His voice breaks on the name as it leaves his lips.

"Leave me alone, Gally," I snap, my voice cracking. He grabs onto my wrist gently, and I don't have the strength to wrench my arm free.

"I remember it. I know what I did to him. I know that I killed him; that I'm the reason he's not here right now. I see Chuck's face every time I close my eyes. He's always there, haunting me. I might not've been myself when I did it, but I shot him. I know what I did. I think about it all the time."

"Let go of me."

"Is it the nickname? Does it bother you, because I'll tell them to stop. Just say the word and I'll do it."

I try weakly to get my arm free, but my attempt is completely worthless. My eyes are tearing up, my throat tightening. "Let me go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Why can't you look at me, Venus? Why... what did I do? I'm here. I'm breathing. I'm alive. Why can you not look me in the eyes?" He's pleading with me now. I can hear the desperation in his voice as he begs me to look at him; to meet his eyes and see... what? What is it that he's hoping I'll see? 

I take my pocket knife out of my pocket with my free hand, flipping the blade out. I look to the right of his face through blurry eyes, holding up the knife.

"Don't... don't make me hurt you, Gally. Let me go. Let me go," I plead. 

"You're not gonna hurt me, Venus. I know you. I know you better than anyone. You won't-"

"You don't know me!" I shout, the hot tears finally spilling down my cheeks. Gally stares at me, shocked by my outburst. His grip loosens on my wrist and I yank it free, taking a step back from him once again. "You don't fucking know me anymore! I'm not the same fucking person you knew in the Glade, so quit acting like you know me!" I jab a finger towards the cuts covering my face before holding up my wrapped hand. "I smashed my hand through a fucking window! I gave Winston the gun that he killed himself with! I stabbed two of your men! I looked a man in the eyes and shot him in the head! I killed twenty four other men! I'm not the same fucking person who hated confrontation and fighting! I've done things and been through things; stuff that you couldn't even imagine! So don't you dare say that you know me! You have no right to say that anymore!"

Gally simply stands still, his gaze fixed on mine, a sad look in his eyes. His eyes flick from my hand to my face and I can see that he's processing everything I told him; taking it all in. My eyes sting with furious tears as I stand fixed to my spot, my throat tight with anger. 

"Is everything okay over here?" A voice asks, bringing me out of my daze. Gally's jaw clenches as his eyes flick over to the boy. I turn around and meet Frypan's gaze, which is flicking between Gally and I. 

"No," I reply shortly, walking towards Frypan. I can feel Gally's eyes burning into the back of my head intensely. Something inside of me wants to turn back, but I know that if I do, I won't turn back. So I keep walking forward, tears stinging my eyes, taking Fry's hand in mine. "I can't do this right now. Please." My voice cracks and I look up at him. He nods, seeming to understand right away.

He looks back at Gally, nodding once before leading me away. Something inside of me feels wrong about it, as if I need to turn around and go back to him. I feel empty inside all over again, mourning the loss of the boy I knew in the Glade; the innocent kids who were so desperately and deeply in love. Our eyes might've stayed the same, but nothing about our experiences or lives are. We don't know each other anymore. We're simply strangers who knew each other once. I can feel Gally staring at us until we round a corner. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, tears falling down my face as we walk.