This was actually a request from @blushingloser. This is kind of a role reversal with Winston. I hope you like it!
"We're almost there, right?" Minho asked as the group reached the top of the sand dune. Thomas nodded, but knew that wasn't true.
"Shouldn't be much farther." He said quietly. He kept talking, but you almost didn't hear him. You were focusing on taking deep breaths instead. Your head was pounding, Black dots filling the corner of your vision as you tried to breathe normally.
"Y/N? You don't look too good." Fry commented, tilting his head to try and get a better look at your face. You tried to respond, lifting a hand like you were going to wave dismissively, but your body had other plans.
You collapsed. Your body hit the sand and knocked the small amount of air out of your chest. The others noticed almost immediately that you had fallen, but Minho was the first to sprint down the sand.
"Y/N?" He kneeled next to you as he tried to block your face from the sand that was being blown around by the wind. The others joined him, and after a minute they managed to partially wake you up.
"Thomas, help me out." Minho said as he tried to sit you up.
"It's probably dehydration. Someone hand me a water bottle."
"No." You groaned, wincing as he tried to help you sit. You laid back down, using his leg as a pillow.
"No? What, are you sick?" Minho asked, putting a hand on your forehead to check for a fever.
"It's not that." You sighed, shaking your head. Minhos eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Then what's wrong?"
With a shaky breath, you began lifting the edge of your shirt. A dark, bleeding gash sent dark streaks across your abdomen, and everyone fell silent. Minho sat frozen for a second, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"When did that happen?" He asked quietly.
"Yesterday. In the mall." You mumbled, closing your eyes.
"Yesterday? And you didn't tell anyone until now?" He asked loudly, making the throbbing in your head worse.
"I didn't want you to worry. You guys have enough to focus on as it is, dealing with the scorch." You mumbled.
"You should've told me." Minho frowned, tugging at his hair as he thought.
"We've gotta get you a Doctor." He said after a moment.
"That's not going to help, Minho, and you know it. Plus the odds of finding one out here are slim." Newt said gently. Minho just shook his head.
"Well I'll find one." He said firmly. He picked you up, being careful of your stomach and frowning when you winced.
"Let's go. The sooner the better." He called to the gladers. You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion overcome your body, and Minho held you tight as he carried you towards the city.