Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Hero // Thomas

"Guys, go! Get out of here!" Minho shouted, his voice small as it fought to be heard over the rapid gunfire coming from every angle. While everyone reluctantly obeyed his demands, he remained at a distance from his friends, shooting any member of WICKED who dare take a step past him. Pulling the trigger, he shot a man square in the chest. As you and Thomas both neared him, he screamed, "Thomas, Y/N, come on! Go!"

"No, Minho—"

"Thomas, I'm serious! Just go!" Trigger pulled back. Another man down.

"Come on!" Newt encouraged the two of you, beckoning for Thomas's arm with his hand. Thomas glanced back at your troubled expression, and he could already tell what was going through that head of yours. Before he was able to stop it, however, you were already tugging the gun out of Minho's grasp and shoving him towards Thomas and Newt.

"I've got this! Get out of here, I'll meet you somewhere!" You shouted, nearly missing a bullet as it whizzed past you. Locking in one target after another, you began shooting down men. A newfound confidence began to fill you as you realized how good you have gotten with a gun. The knowledge both pleased and terrified you. You had assumed the boys had listened to your word and ran, but you felt a hand latch onto your arm which nearly messed up your shot. You went through with the kill anyway and looked to see who the owner of the hand was.

"Y/N, come on! Let's just get out of here, okay?" Thomas's brown eyes found yours, and even amidst all of this panic, you felt yourself at ease just looking into them.

"No, you go somewhere safe. I can handle this, alright?"

"Y/N—"

"I love you. Now go." You said shakily, before returning to firing. Not risking another glance at Thomas, whose presence you still felt looming beside you, you heard the voices of Newt and Minho shouting at him to move.

You quickly glanced over to see the boys hiding behind a large crate to avoid getting shot. They all looked at you expectantly, urgently. You stubbornly turned back to look at the guards making their way towards you. You would not let those boys get hurt; they were your family, your everything. You would never be able to live with yourself if they did and you knew you could have done something to stop it.

That's when it happened.

You flicked the trigger once more, only for the launcher in your hands to click and do nothing more. Glancing down at it in panic and then back up at the guards fast-approaching. Your finger kept yanking on the trigger, hoping that it was stuck and nothing else. Deep down you knew, you knew what was wrong with the weapon in your hands, you knew your fate, you knew what was going to happen.

Being so caught up in getting the launcher to function properly, you never noticed the small volt of electricity flying towards you. The unyielding force of the grenade knocking into your chest had you stumble backwards in surprise. Launcher sliding from your fingers, your body jolted and shook from the electricity coursing through your body.

"No!" A voice bellowed, and you already knew who it was.

Your body became numb, and you felt yourself falling. Two of the guards had caught you, each grabbing onto one of your biceps and dragging you away from your friends. Through your blurry vision you watched as Thomas struggled against Jorge's grip to race over to you, to fight for you. You tried kicking the men holding you, but it was no use. Your body had stopped functioning properly.

"No," You mumbled taking in the sight you were currently being dragged away from. Helplessly, you watched as Minho had swiped a launcher from another man's hands and began to shoot them down in fury, only to receive his own bolt of electricity to the back. He went through the same agonizing progress you did, and another set of guards began to drag him towards the berg.