Hannah | Maze Runner

Alternative ending: Teary-eyed, Broken Brunette. Part 1

If Hannah didn't die. Everything in previous chapters have happened, it's just if she wasn't killed by a fallen fire building.

Hannah gasped awake, eyes darting around the off-white room and her breathing heavily intensified.

She felt herself rocking, she wasn't causing it, so she figured she must've been on a ship or boat.

Hannah needed to get up, she couldn't do much just lying around.
Pushing herself up onto one elbow, she felt pain shoot up her left side.

Glancing down she noticed her right arm was wrapped in bandage, the top of her arm from the shoulder to the top of the elbow and then the bottom of the elbow to the wrist, on her left, it was just the top of her arm wrapped up.

She wracked her brain for any memories that had happened recently. She remembered fire. Lots of it. And she recalled being tired, dragging her feet across rubble.

She remembered following someone. No. Someones. There were two of them.

Flopping back on her bed, she instantly regretted it when pain shot across her chest. Carefully flinging the blanket that was placed over her, she lifted her shirt so it revealed yet another bandage wrapped across her stomach.

Now she was confused. Pulling the blanket off fully, revealing her legs, which were covered in bandage too, on her right thigh and left lower leg. Also focusing just above the ankle, she peeled back the bandage to discover the left over healing of 2nd and a few 3rd degree burns.

As soon as her golden brown eyes glanced them over, the memories came flooding back.
Newt... Thomas, Gally, Brenda. Flare, WCKD, safe, crawling.

Her eyes fluttered away in realisation.  She nearly killed herself. Looking back it was foolish:

She had crawled away weakly as soon as she sent Brenda away. She had watched the fire trickle down around her before the whole building collapsed.

Immediately feeling her face, she was surprised to find no bandages decked upon it, which is confusing.

Ignoring the pain, she sat up, manoeuvring herself to lean her back against the wall.

"Hello."

Hannah's head snatched to the side. Gasping, she inched away from the figure in the doorway.

Watching the figure walk into her room, she could make out features like the brown hair and bright brown eyes.

"Who are you and where am I?" She asked bluntly.

"You're on a boat. And my name is Alex."

"H-how?" She stuttered.

"'How' what?" He repeated.

"How did I survive? I-I had the flare." She spilled to the stranger.

"Ah. So you do remember..."
He was cut off by Hannah.

"Of course I remember! Why wouldn't I?" She snapped suddenly.

"Usually, with the flare attacking the brain, survivors, assuming they found a cure, and, what we call, Partial immunes are affected with memory loss."
He explained calmly.

"Partial immune? " She repeated, confused.

"Yeah. You." Alex began, continuing to explain upon seeing her extremely confused face, "Not every immune is the same. Depends on the person. There are, out in the world, immunes who just don't get infected. Full stop, as soon as it enters the body it's destroyed..."

Hannah, begining to get impatient, cuts in. "What's that got to do with me?"

Alex rolled his eyes, taking one of the close buckets to sit on.