When The Storm Comes (When We're Older alternative ending)

with you again

here's a long one—thank me later

Mae

My eyes fluttered open to the sun poking through the window above my makeshift bed. It lit up the dusty wooden floor in this small, empty room, the sound of birds chirping outside was the first sound that kissed my ears that morning.

I turned over and pulled the blankets closer to me, the chilly morning air blowing goosebumps over my delicate skin. My face was smushed into the pillow, short hair over my forehead as I shut my eyes once more, contemplating falling back to sleep. I had no idea what time it was, but I felt like I would never gain back the amount of sleep I lost while in the WICKED facility.

Despite being on a thin mattress in the middle of a cold, dusty room, I felt more comfortable here than I did during the entirety of my time at WICKED.

A small squeak from beside my bed caused me to open my eyes and lift myself onto my elbows. My baby was beside my bed, looking up at the rays of sunlight beaming through the window. I smiled as her brown eyes lit up in awe—I could already tell she was going to be smart.

It's been about a week since we escaped WICKED, and a week since I gave birth to my baby girl.

No, I haven't found a name for her yet. I couldn't bring myself to without Newt's creative mind having a say in the process.

I slowly pulled myself up, leaning against the pillows with my knees up. My lower body was still sore—Lily had me wearing this woman diaper thing that made me look so stupid. It was itchy and uncomfortable, yet she said it was for discharge or whatever, so I had to keep it on until I was fully healed.

"Hello, my sweet thing..." I greeted my baby, reaching down to pick her up.

She let out a high-pitched wine as I picked her up, but calmed down again when she was in my arms. It's been strange to get to know her—although she's so young she already knows what makes her comfortable.

She hates being carried by my roommate, which I find particularly hilarious. It makes me laugh hysterically to see him squirm uncomfortably when he holds her. He's not good with babies, and my girl knows that.

She really doesn't enjoy being held by anyone other than me. I could say it's a slight ego boost, but I do wish that I had a hand or two free to help Lily with the cooking because that's basically all I'm allowed to do right now. Cook.

I'm not allowed outside because the city's been full of WICKED guards. There are posters of my face everywhere I look—all pinned to a post or on the side of a building with a high finders fee. I ripped the paper to shreds when my roommate brought it back to me the other day.

We'd discussed briefly our plan to get away from this city. It was no longer safe for us to rest—although the Road Runner cafe was separated by a short distance from the rest of the town, it was only a matter of days before WICKED explored further.

The creaking of the door opening was the only thing to tear me away from my child. My roommate grinned at me as he held a steaming bowl of oatmeal and a fresh bottle in his hands. He sat down by my bed, setting the oatmeal near me while handing me the bottle.

"Morning." He greeted.

"How're the guards?" I asked. "Are they getting close yet?"

He thankfully shook his head. "No, but they will. There's supposed to be a protest later today near the gates. Some people want you dead, others want WICKED dead...it's gonna be gnarly. Lily was thinking that would be a good time to go. Since everyone will be preoccupied..."