11

Hey There Delilah

The morning went horribly wrong. As soon as the sun came up Winston was acting out of control. He was able to sneak past the others as they were sleeping and grabbed the gun from Rose's waist band aiming towards Minho whom had awoken just in time to see him reaching for it. Now here they were, everyone up and tensions raised. 

Newt immediately took the first chance he had watching Winston turn his back to him. Dashing forward he wrapped his arms around the boy and tackled him towards the ground knocking the gun away. Thomas was the first to grab it stuffing it into his waist band now. At first Thomas wasn't sure of what had happened, as soon as he heard all the noise he came sprinting from his post of watch. "He tried to shoot Minho!" Newt cleared the air. 

All Winston could do was plea beneath Newt. "Please, please, I'm sorry please!" 

With wide eyes Rose stared downwards towards the boy. His veins were beginning to tint a dark black, and when she stepped forwards pulling up his shirt she became certain of her prediction. A long breath drew from her mouth as she looked away. "He's infected. The scratches are infected."

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Eventually Winston was able to calm down to his senses. He lay against the ground on his back staring blankly up towards the sky. He had requested to be left behind, with the gun that is. That way when he knew he wasn't going to make it, he could end it himself. There was only one bullet left, so in her mind it seemed as if fate was playing a game with them. Winston was a Glader, he was one of them! One of the first boys that ever became a runner with Minho... It was obvious that the two were good friends. So, slowly, painfully, they all said their goodbyes one by one. 

Tears filled Minho's eyes as he crouched by his friend. Rose could have made out the conversation, but turning her back she gave the two the privacy they deserved. Once around she could see Newt, his eyes longing off somewhere into the distance. This was just another goodbye to her, sure she knew him somewhat through her days in the Glade. But Minho and Newt had known this kid of years, they had known him ever since the first day he arrived in the Maze. And once you enter the Maze, you became a part of a family. That family created a bond so strong that it couldn't be broken, not even after death. But that didn't mean that saying goodbye didn't hurt. It always hurt. 

Gradually making his way away from the scene, Minho locked eyes with Rose and gave her a sorrowful look. Instantly she was confused, but before she could ask he was gone walking off into the distance with Aires and Theresa. All that remained were Newt, Thomas, and Rose. She remained in the back watching as Thomas and Newt said their goodbye to Winston. She couldn't overcome just what he was doing. Taking their own life, giving up. She understood his pain, the pain of the infection. But she was different and she knew that. Winston was one that was not going to come back from the infection. 

"Rose..." Winston's weak voice called out to her. Immediately her stomach dropped looking to his soft stare. "That night, at the campfire. When you sang? You remember right?" he seemed so hopeful in such a dark time. 

Huffing out a breath of air Rose simply nodded stepping forward as Thomas and Newt stood. "Will you stay?" Winston asked. 

Rose's breath was immediately whisked away from her. It was almost as if someone had punched her in the gut. She had to agree though, it was his dying wish. "Yeah." she croaked taking the backpack off and setting it against the nearby slab of concrete. This is why Minho had looked so sadly to her, because Thomas and Newt wore the same expression. 

"You sure? We can stay behind." Thomas offered swallowing down the emotion in his throat. 

"No..." She cut him off, they didn't need to be around for this. It would break them, it would break them all. She was used to death, she grew up with it. So all along, she knew that it had to be her. "Go."