The Maze Runner Preferences

Your Last Kiss

A/N: Let's go back to the theme where Emma upsets everyone. Haven't done that in a while so I'll give it a try.

Listen to the lyrics of the song I linked, please and thank you.

Also TDC spoilers below so hurry up and read that so I don't have to give warnings.

Gally:
He didn't know you'd died in the Scorch. There was no way he could have. But when Thomas and the others finally met up with him in Denver, he was hoping to see your annoyed-but-visibly-relieved face alongside them.

Gally hadn't prepared for the worst.

The last time he'd talked to you - properly - was back in the maze. Way back. Before he'd been controlled. Before Thomas had even arrived. Before he'd been overcome by suspicion and put up those walls he now hated so much. Before he'd even been stung. That fateful sting was what had torn the two of you apart to begin with, but the lightening in the Scorch had brought it to an end.

He did love you.

He'd said it that day. The day he'd been stung. He'd cupped your chin, pulled it towards you, and pecked you lightly on the lips.

"I love you," he said.

It was the last time he'd said those words. To you and to anybody.

He truly believed he would never say them again.

Because he no longer had anybody to say them to.

Minho:
It was passionate; there was no denying that. You were both just grateful that nobody had been around at the time.

Now Minho realised he wouldn't have cared anyway. Not as long as he still got that moment with you.

It was a moment so dear to him. So utterly precious. You'd known it at the time, but neither of you had chosen to acknowledge it.

Minutes later, you were dead.

You'd fought valiantly upon entering the maze. It was your only shot at an escape and you were going to make darn sure you took it.

But taking a shot didn't mean you always hit the target. And the Grievers were a tough target to hit.

You both knew it was over the second it knocked you over, pinning you down. Minho tried to break through the group. He tried to get to you. But he was too late. You were already dead by the time he reached you.

That moment you'd shared was a gift. His last moment of happiness, of relative safety, before entering that unknown and treacherous landscape that lay beyond the maze. He was thankful for it. That moment gave him something to return to when it all became too much. That moment kept him sane. It kept him going.

And above all, it gave him a little piece of you, to take with him wherever he went, to remind him that you hadn't fought in vain.

Newt:
You'd both guessed it already: Newt was not immune. Hearing the words said out loud, however? Hearing then uttered by the very man who'd put you both through so much already? It was enough to slowly rip your heart in two.

It wasn't long before Newt snapped, yelling at you, yelling at his friends. You didn't blame him, of course, but it made you want to do the same; after all, you'd always done everything together. His breakdown was breaking you.

Then came the Berg. A destination: Denver. A possibility of a normal life. Jobs. Security. An actual foreseeable future.

But none of it applied to him. Even with the Bliss. He wouldn't go unnoticed for long.

So, as you went to investigate, to prepare for the life ahead of you, with every intention of returning with a plan, you knew deep down what he was thinking;

Newt wouldn't be there when you returned for him. In one way or another, he'd be taken. By mind or by matter, he'd be gone.

So you savoured that goodbye, knowing it could be your very last. As your lips met, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you in, you knew you'd already forgiven him. For what he'd done, and for what he was still to do.

You reluctantly pulled away, knowing you had to get a move on, but Newt held you where you were, leaning in so that you could feel his warm breath on your ear.

"Thank you," he whispered, with more meaning in those two words than you'd ever known in your entire life.

It was the last time you ever saw him.

Thomas:
You'd come so far. You'd almost made it. Ten minutes was all it would have taken. Ten more minutes and you would have survived.

But it all came back to that horrible maze. It always did, didn't it? You'd survived the first time; you'd fought the Grievers, escaped and won. But when it came to the rescue mission, when you had to return to the place that had haunted your memories for so long, it finally took you.

The complex was collapsing. The walls and ceiling were crumbling around you. Debris pummelled the ground from all directions; missing you purely by luck alone.

Until that ran out.

A piece of the wall. A slab of concrete. A sickening thud.

And you were gone.

Thomas didn't even find out until he'd escaped. Until they were in the main complex again. Even then, he had no time to break down, to feel anything. He had to keep going. To lead his friends to safety. But some cruel part of his mind kept playing it over and over again. That kiss. It was your first. He hadn't known it'd be your last.

It was quiet in the Berg. You were all preparing for the mission ahead. You were riding with the Right Arm. Intending to launch an attack on WICKED. Something you'd been itching to do since the day you'd woken up in that box. Now you were finally getting your chance.

"Nervous?" you asked Thomas, knowing how stupid the question was. Thomas was bait. He'd be dropped off a few kilometres away so that he could enter the complex without suspicion. It was his brain they wanted, after all.

"Are you crazy? I'm terrified. Don't tell Minho I said that though. Tell him I descended from this Berg without even batting an eyelid."

"Noted. He'll never find out."

"Thanks, Y/N."

Your gaze locked just then, and you both knew what the other wanted. What they needed in that moment. To be reassured, to calm their nerves.

So you kissed. It was slow. Cautious. But somehow, it was just right for your situation.

"Time to go, Thomas," Lawrence urged, ending- but not ruining- the moment.

The next time you saw him, you were fighting for your life.

It was a battle you'd finally lost.