the one where they're runners | minho x fem!reader ✔️

40 | the one where they were close

The only good thing about that place was that they allowed her to shower. The water was bad on her wound and she finally got to take a good look at it — the bullet had grazed her and it would surely leave a scar for her remaining shortened lifespan.

As she washed off the dirt and blood, she couldn't help but think back to the Glade, when Minho would stand guard outside the shower so none of the other boys would peek on her. She wondered when she would start forgetting, when would the Flare start eating her brain alive and taking away all her memories of Minho, Newt, Frypan and all her friends. She would forget Chuck and Gally, who they'd left behind in that room with the supposed corpse of Ava Paige. She would forget Clint and Jeff and Winston and Ben and Theo and everyone else. All her friends from the Glade, friends who were dead now but still precious to her.

And she would forget them just because she happened to not be immune.

If she wasn't immune, did that mean the others might not be either? Were Thomas, Newt and Frypan immune? Were Chuck and Gally and Alby? How many were immune and how many not? Why were they mixed? Why did WICKED keep the non immunes? So many questions and so little time to find answers.

After she was done with her shower, she was provided with a set of dark blue sweatpants and sweater. 'Property of WICKED', it said on the back. Fitting, very fitting, as WICKED basically owned them at this point. It felt almost dehumanizing, but considering she wasn't going to be a human for much longer, she didn't care anymore.

She wondered how Minho would handle it. He would move on, right? She wanted him to, she didn't want him to spend his whole life mourning her. She wanted him to find love again, someone who would love him as much as she does, as much as it hurt. Maybe she could write him a letter, just in case. Teresa seems to be willing to help and even though she would never trust her again, she had nothing to loose and could ask her to give him her letter. Just as a goodbye.

She was led through a bunch of hallways again, quickly loosing track of where they were going. She was brought into a medical room with a few doctors buzzing around, each of them clad in isolation suits from head to toe. There was a medical bed that was propped up, most likely awaiting Y/n. The soldiers led her over and sat her down, strapping her wrists and ankles to it. She didn't struggle, she had no fight in her anymore. She knew she was going to die, so she couldn't do anything but wait anymore.

Teresa walked in, a small smile on her face. She greeted the doctors in the room before making her way to the chair next to Y/n's bed. She didn't say anything as she rolled up Y/n's sleeve, revealing the darkening veins starting from her wrist. They hadn't grown much since an hour ago. Her neck started to itch again and she tried to scratch it on her good shoulder, but it barely did anything.

''Y/n, listen.'' She looked at Teresa, though her eyes furrowed, showing she was hostile. Teresa was holding up a needle with blue liquid in it. ''This is called Bliss. It's not the real cure yet, but it slows down the Flare. Like it had with Brenda. I can keep supplying you with this until we find the real cure, so you can live.''

Y/n didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say, it felt wrong, really wrong to be accepting this product of another kid's torture.

''This one, specifically,'' Teresa said as she lightly tapped the glass with her nail. ''This one's from Minho. See, he can help you.''

Y/n almost wanted to laugh again. In some sick and twisted way, the universe had decided that this was going to be how she would feel close to Minho. She shook her head, the itch intensifying and her head pounding. ''I don't want it. You tortured it out of Minho, I don't want it.''

''It's for your own good, Y/n,'' Teresa said as she wiped the crook of her arm with a cotton pan, disinfecting he spot.

''Are you deaf, slinthead? I said I don't want it!'' Y/n told her, trying to wiggle out of her restraints, but it was no use. ''Stop it! Stop, I don't want it!''