𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Fly high Winstone

Had he snapped from something I'd said? Was the flare kicking into his brain? I knew that it made people aggressive and volatile, but this soon?

"Just look away." He pointed the gun at himself. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to be a monster."

"Winston, what the fuck are you doing?!" Minho shouted, scrambling to his feet. I watched in horror as Winston closed his eyes, fingers sliding up to the trigger. Minho leaped towards him.

BAM

He had tackled the sick boy, pinning him down. The gun lay tossed to the side, it's black surface glinting.

"Guys, get down here!" Aris called out to Thomas and Teresa, I could hear their footsteps whooshing from the dune they'd been looking from.

"What the fuck?" I uttered, backing into the concrete pillar behind me. Winston fought weakly against Minho, flopping his arms around.

"Winston, what are you doing man?!" Frypan darted over, scooping the gun up in a hurry. "Settle down!"

"What's goin' on?" Newt lilted, craning his head over to Winston. He had given up fighting, stilling his body. "Minho, get off of him."

Minho caught his breath, letting Winston's arms go and removing his thighs from the sickly boy's side. He stepped back, realizing Winston had calmed. I took Minho's arm, pulling him farther from Winston. He looked like he needed the space.

"What happened?!" Teresa rounded the concrete corner with Thomas, her face flushed.

"I- I don't know!" Frypan lifted his hands up by his head, his explanation tumbling out while he tripped over his words. "He was just talking to y/n and grabbed the gun and he tried to..."

Winston had crawled onto all fours, chest heaving. His back was curled, arms barely able to support himself.

"Give- Give it back." He outstretched a pleading hand, eyes still set on the gun. "Please-"

"Winston? Winston, you okay?" Thomas stammered, bending down to put an arm around him. Winston jolted out of his touch, lurching forward. Black bile escaped his lips, paired with pained choking noises.

"Fuck." I mumbled, turning my head at the sight, my eyes squeezing shut.

"Oh shit that's nasty." Victor said through a hand covered mouth. "Oh my God- Holy- Wow- Shit Winston."

Winston collapsed in on himself, falling onto his back, quivering limbs sprawled out.

"It's, growing." He peeled his shirt up, revealing his stomach. Marred flesh looked back at us, the flare infecting every particle of skin. "I'm sorry." Winston whimpered, his face scrunching up. He slowed his breathing, gulping before saying, "I'm not gonna make it." Winston's voice was nothing above a wheezing whisper when he started to. My stomach soured, blinking back tears. I knew the pain was torturous from the way he begged for death. "Please, please, don't let me turn into one of those things."

Death would release him from the pain. I saw that, the others did too, Newt seemed to understand the most. He reached over to Frypan and took the pistol from him.

Newt stepped out of the clump of people gathered, standing above Winston. My heart boomed in a slow steady beat, the vibrations were felt in my entire body. Was he going to shoot him? Put Winston out of his misery? He couldn't. No, he wouldn't.

"Newt." I muttered, placing a hand on his back.  Newt turned his head toward me, shaking it with a firm expression on his face. His eyes dark, looming with thoughts.

He crouched down, kneeling next to Winston. Newt picked up his wrist, putting the gun in his unfurled hand.

"Thank you." Winston pressed a hard smile to his face, Adam's apple bobbing. "Now, get out of here."

"Goodbye Winston." Newt was quiet, bowing his head with sorrow. He pulled away, letting Winston go.

Frypan was next. He fell next to Winston, holding himself up on his knees. Minho sidled up next to him, tilting his head. They had their moment of silence, closing their eyes to stay with him in whatever brief moment they could.

They opened their eyes, pulling themselves up from the sand. The boys walked off, a noticeable burden heavy on their shoulders. Thomas lingered on with me, tears welling in his eyes.

"It's okay." Winston croaked, the sun beating down on him. I approached him, hands behind my back, I sat beside him.

"I'm sorry." Thomas's bottom lip trembled, brows strained. Winston had hit a nerve. He'd hit a nerve in all of us. He bent down, grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Thomas, take care of them." Winston uttered, eyes almost closed shut. Thomas nodded, turning his back to join the others. I was the last one with Winston. He looked up at me, his brain being chipped off with each second I stayed. "Bye y/n." His hand squeezed mine one last time.

I hated goodbyes. They sucked. So therefore I refused to say goodbye. I never verbalized it. Instead I brought a hand up to his face, running my thumb against his cheekbone. Dipping my head down, I laid a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Say hi to Gally for me."

"I will."