One shot (teen wolf & maze runner)

Winston - The last I love you

The relentless heat of the Scorch bore down on the Gladers as they trudged through the barren wasteland, the sun's unforgiving rays burning their skin and sapping their strength. Mae walked beside Winston, her hand tightly gripping his. They had survived the Maze, but the challenges they faced now seemed insurmountable. The desolate landscape was filled with dangers, both human and inhuman, and the Flare virus loomed like a dark shadow over their every step.

Winston had been bitten during a skirmish with a group of Cranks, their infected minds driven to madness by the Flare. At first, he tried to hide the wound, hoping it was a mere scratch. But as the days passed, Mae noticed the changes: the fever that burned through him, the tremors that wracked his body, and the haunted look in his eyes.

"Mae," Winston rasped one evening as they rested in the shelter of a crumbling building, the others gathered around a small, flickering fire. "We need to talk."

Mae's heart clenched at the tone of his voice. She knew what he was going to say but wasn't ready to face it. "What is it, Winnie?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling as he reached for hers. "It's getting worse. I can feel it. The Flare is spreading."

Mae's eyes filled with tears, but she forced herself to stay strong. "We can find a cure. There has to be something out here, some way to help you."

Winston shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Mae, we both know there isn't. The Flare is unstoppable. I don't want to turn into one of those things."

Mae bit her lip, her mind racing. She had heard the stories, seen the horrors of the Flare's progression. But she couldn't bear the thought of losing Winston, the man she loved more than anything. "We'll keep fighting," she said, her voice firm. "We'll find a way."

Winston squeezed her hand, his eyes filled with love and sorrow. "Mae, I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," she whispered, her heart breaking.

"When the time comes," Winston said, his voice trembling, "I need you to end it. I don't want to become a danger to you or the others. Promise me, Mae."

Mae felt a sob rise in her throat, but she nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I promise, Winston. I promise."

The days that followed were a blur of desperation and determination. Mae did everything she could think of to slow the progression of the Flare. She found herbs and plants that she mixed into makeshift poultices, tried to keep Winston's fever down with cool cloths, and stayed by his side every moment she could.

But despite her efforts, Winston's condition continued to deteriorate. The others noticed, their faces etched with worry and sadness. Thomas, Newt, and Minho offered their support, but there was little they could do.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Mae and Winston sat together on a sandy dune, the wind whispering through the desolate landscape. Winston's breathing was labored, his skin pale and clammy.

"Mae," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's time."

Mae's heart shattered at his words. She had known this moment was coming, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye. "No, Winston. Please, not yet."

He reached out and cupped her cheek, his touch weak but filled with love. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. Please, Mae. Let me go."

Mae's sobs shook her entire body, but she nodded, knowing she had to honor his wish. "I love you, Winston," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"I love you too, Mae," he replied, his eyes filled with tears. "Thank you for everything. You've made my life worth living."

With trembling hands, Mae pulled out the small, sharp knife she had carried since their time in the Maze. She looked into Winston's eyes, seeing the man she loved, and took a deep breath. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling his warmth one last time.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Winston closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek. "It's okay, Mae. I'm ready."

With a final, shuddering breath, Mae plunged the knife into Winston's heart. His body jerked, then went still. Mae held him as he took his last breath, the life fading from his eyes.

For a long time, Mae sat there, cradling Winston's lifeless body. The world around her seemed to blur, her mind unable to process the enormity of her loss. She had done what he had asked, but it felt like a piece of her own soul had died with him.

Eventually, Thomas and Newt found her, their faces etched with grief. They helped her to her feet, supporting her as they led her back to the others. Mae felt numb, her heart a hollow shell.

The days that followed were a blur of grief and mourning. The Gladers buried Winston in the shifting sands of the Scorch, a simple marker the only testament to his life. Mae spent hours at his grave, talking to him, crying, trying to come to terms with what she had done.

Thomas and Newt stayed by her side, offering comfort and support. They understood her pain, having lost friends and loved ones to the Flare and the harsh realities of their world. Their presence was a balm to her wounded soul, reminding her that she was not alone in her suffering.

Slowly, Mae began to heal. The pain of losing Winston never truly went away, but she learned to live with it, to carry his memory with her as a source of strength. She threw herself into helping the Gladers, determined to honor Winston's memory by fighting for their survival.

As the weeks turned into months, the Gladers continued their journey through the Scorch, searching for a safe haven and a way to end their suffering. Mae found solace in the camaraderie of her friends, their shared goal binding them together. She knew that Winston would want her to keep fighting, to live for both of them.

One evening, as the sun set along the horizon, Mae stood at the giant stone staring at Winston's name, her heart filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. "I miss you every day," she whispered. "But I promise I'll keep fighting. For you, for all of us."

She placed a hand on the stone, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. The journey ahead was uncertain, and the dangers were ever-present, but Mae knew she had the strength to face whatever came next. She would carry Winston's memory with her, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

As she turned to rejoin the Gladers, Mae felt a renewed sense of purpose. The Flare had taken so much from them, but it had not taken their will to survive. They would find a way to safety, and they would honor the memories of those they had lost along the way.

With a final glance at Winston's carved name, Mae walked back to her friends, ready to face the future with courage and determination. She knew that, no matter what happened, Winston's love would always be a part of her, guiding her through the challenges ahead.