Whatever It Takes | TDC fix-it fic |

Winston

"Take care of them for me," was Winston's last request.
Thomas nodded before heading off. Winston felt a peace settle inside him. He hadn't known Thomas very long but he trusted the Greenie to take care of his friends. If he could get them out of the Maze he could get them out of the Scorch.
Winston closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He raised the gun to his head and thought of each of his friends in turn. Frypan. Newt. Minho. Thomas. And he thought of the ones he lost, the ones he'd be reunited with soon. Ben. Alby. Clint. Jeff. Chuck. Yes, this was good. Winston was satisfied with his life, no matter how short.
   He felt a cool breeze hit his face, one last bit of pleasure before the end.
Winston pulled the trigger.

Immediately, Winston knew he missed.
   He opened his eyes to see a blurry person (was he losing his sight now?) holding Winston's arm that held the gun. The person yanked the gun out of his hand and threw it away.
   "What are you doing?" Winston asked weakly, though he feared it came out as an unintelligible gargle.
   The woman (he could tell it was a woman now because of the long hair) whispered something he couldn't make out and started cleaning his stomach wound. After she was done, she jabbed something into his shoulder and his vision began to clear.
   The woman's skin was incredibly red, as if she'd been sunburned all over, and her hair was falling out in clumps. She had a wild look in her eyes but a kind smile. For some reason, she had applied way too much lipstick because it was smeared all over her mouth.
   No, not lipstick. That was blood.
   Winston realized she was one of those cranks. But why she was being so kind, he didn't know.
   "What—What are you doing?" He tried again, pleased to hear the words come out more clearly.
   "Cleaning you up," the sunburned woman answered. "Now hold still." She worked at his wound for hours upon hours until it was dark. Finally, she wrapped a long cloth around his stomach and back.
   Winston got a look at it before she was done. There was still a huge gash but all of the black blood was gone. He didn't feel the virus spreading through him either.
   "How did you fix that?" He asked.
   Sunburn finished wrapping the bandage. "I'm not entirely sure. The serum should've slowed down the process but it seems to have healed you completely. I wonder . . ." She jabbed another syringe into her arm then shrugged. "We'll see if that works. But right now we have to get you up. I have to get home and you can't stay out alone at night."
   Winston got to his feet, feeling stronger than he was before but still very weak. He leaned on the woman for support. "But my friends . . ."
   "We'll find them," Sunburn promised. "Tomorrow."
   By the time they made it to her home—a cramped tool shed with a fire pit in the middle—Winston was feeling much better. He didn't know how, but that woman had cured him completely.
   Winston sat down. "I never said thank you," he said. "You know, fore saving me.
Sunburn gave him a wicked grin. "Who said I saved you?"
Winston felt a hard knock against his skull then everything went black.

When he woke again, Winston found himself tied up in the far corner of the shed. Now, there was a huge fire in the middle of the floor that illuminated Sunburn's burnt face. Now, she wasn't alone. Two more cranks were with her, a nine year old girl and a balding man. He assumed they were a family.
"Wha . . .?" Winston groaned.
"Oh, look," said the girl. "Our dinner is awake."
"Dinner?" Winston asked, groaning as he sat up.
"Duh, what do you think this fire is for?"
Winston was in big trouble. He needed to get out as soon as possible. The family was really thin and weak so maybe he could take them. If only he had a weapon of some sort.
   Winston groaned as he sat up. He leaned against the wall and felt something sharp against his back. It was an old knife.
If he could use the knife to cut through the ropes maybe he could escape. Winston gripped the handle  and started cutting at his ropes, hoping to distract the cranks long enough for him to escape.
"So, uh," Winston started. "If you were just going to eat me, why did you heal me?"
"We wanted good, fresh meat and you were about to turn," Sunburn explained. "Couldn't have you ripping apart my throat before I ate you."
"That serum," he nodded to a crate of blue syringes on the other side of the room. "That keeps you from turning into a crank?"
"It just delays it," the bald man answers.
"Then why did it heal me?"
Baldy shrugged. "It's possible that your body got infected but not your mind. Giving you the serum might've killed the Flare before it reached your killzone. Or maybe you're Immune and you just had one nasty cut."
   The little girl laughed. "It doesn't matter, daddy. We'll be eating him soon anyway."
The rope snapped. Now Winston just had to wait for his opportunity to escape.
"How'd you get the serum?" He asked.
"What do you care boy?" Sunburn asked. "You're going to die soon anyway."
"Curiosity?"
She grunted. "Fine. We stole it from WCKD. They were overconfident in their defenses and we broke in easily."
Winston nodded. "Can I see a syringe?"
"No!" Baldy snapped, standing up. "It's ours! We only have you some so we could eat good meat." He grabbed a long dagger off a shelf and started towards Winston.
He was about to get up and bolt when the little girl laughed.
"He just wants to see Daddy," the girl said, walking over to Winston with a syringe. "He won't use it." She held it up to his face.
Winston gave her a wry smile, feeling guilty over what he was about to do. Then, quick as lightning, he stood up, grabbed the girl, and put the knife under her chin.
Sunburn screamed in distress and the little girl started to cry. Baldy glared so hard Winston was tempted to let her go, but he couldn't back down now.
"I don't want to die Mommy," the girl sobbed. "Daddy save me, please. Please." She broke down again and Winston felt terrible. Even if she was a crank he didn't have to right to kill her.
"I won't kill you," he promised. "Just let me go and nobody gets hurt."
Baldy started to protest but the mom cut him off. "Yes, that's fine. Just don't hurt my baby. Please don't hurt her."
Winston nodded. He backed towards the door, still holding the girl until the last second. Then he threw her to the floor and sprinted in the other direction. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see no pursuers. He was safe.
Well, as safe as one could be in the Scorch.