Summary: After regaining your memories along with your sister, Teresa, you and the others face the scorch. But you notice Teresa acting different after escaping WCKD.
Warnings: Angst, possible language, fighting, betrayal, Winston's death mentioned, long too.
Things were getting worse. Supplies were running low, Winston was gone - the gunshot still echoing in your mind - and your sister was acting strangely.
Both of you had gotten your memories back, something you still hadn’t shared with any of the others. But ever since then, Teresa seemed… uncertain. As if she was questioning every move she made.
“Is she okay?” Thomas would ask every so often, concern etched across his face.
“She’s fine,” you’d say, and he’d nod, wandering off.
But you knew it wasn’t true.
By the time you’d finally reached the Right Arm’s camp, her unravelling was only getting worse.
Everyone else seemed relieved. Aris was reunited with Harriet and Sonya. Brenda was getting treatment for her bite. There was food, water - hope. But when you went to check on your sister, Thomas trailing close behind, that hope began to crumble.
“Do you remember your mother, Thomas?” Teresa asked suddenly.
Thomas froze, thinking it over before answering. “I… think so.”
“I remember ours,” Teresa said, turning to you.
“I remember her too,” you murmured.
“She was beautiful. Everyone loved her.” Teresa’s voice softened, a fragile smile tugging at her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. You looked down as she told Thomas the story - your mother, the flare, the loss that shaped your lives.
“There are millions suffering out there,” she continued, looking between the two of you. “Millions of stories just like ours. We can’t turn our backs on them.”
A knot tightened in your chest. “Teresa… what are you saying?”
“I won’t,” she whispered.
Thomas stepped forward. “Won’t what?”
“I want you to understand,” she said quietly.
“Understand what?” Thomas demanded.
The words hit you like a punch. Before you could respond, movement caught your eye - lights in the distance. Getting closer. Too close.
“Please don’t fight them,” she said.
Thomas’s voice cracked. “What have you done?”
You felt your stomach drop. “Teresa… why?”
Thomas bolted down the mountain, shouting warnings, while you stood rooted to the spot, stunned.
“You know what they did to them - to us!” you screamed at her. “Why would you do this?”
“I did what was right!” Teresa fired back.
Before she could answer, you tore after Thomas. The camp had erupted - screams, gunfire, tents engulfed in flames. Chaos swallowing the hope you’d barely begun to feel.
You sprinted down the rocky slope, lungs burning, the cold desert air slicing your throat. Below, the camp was dissolving into chaos. The lights you’d seen earlier were no longer distant - they were flooding the valley, sweeping over tents, blinding WCKD soldiers spilling out of armoured vehicles.
Explosions shook the ground. People were screaming. Someone shouted for the medics; someone else for backup. It didn’t matter. WCKD moved like a machine - efficient, merciless, unstoppable.
“Thomas!” you yelled, spotting him charging toward the camp entrance.
He didn’t slow down. Didn’t look back. He was already ripping the rifle from a fallen Right Arm guard, already running headfirst into the assault.
You caught up just in time to see a line of soldiers advancing, their guns raised.
“Down!” you shouted, dragging Thomas behind an overturned crate just as bullets peppered the metal.
Thomas shoved your hand off him, voice cracking with fury. “She brought them here! She brought them right to us!”
“I know!” It was all you could manage. The truth was still ripping you apart from the inside.
A flare burst overhead, bathing the camp in a harsh red light. For a moment everything looked frozen - the smoke, the soldiers, the terrified faces of people scrambling for shelter.
Then the world snapped back into movement.
Right Arm fighters were firing from behind broken barricades. Some were dragging the wounded away. Others were yelling orders lost in the sound of gunfire. Tents collapsed under the weight of flames. Supplies exploded in showers of sparks.
And somewhere up on the ridge, Teresa was still watching.
“Come on!” Thomas urged, vaulting over the crate. “We have to get to the others!”
You snatched a gun from the dirt, checked the chamber, and fired at the nearest WCKD guard. The shot rang out sharp and desperate. All around you, chaos raged shouts, gunfire, the crackle of burning tents. You spotted the others clustered near a truck, firing back, trying to hold the line.
But it wasn’t enough. WCKD was overwhelming - organised, relentless, and far more prepared than any of you.
One by one, fighters were disarmed. Screams turned to silence. Weapons hit the ground.
Eventually, the survivors were rounded up and forced to their knees. You were shoved between Newt and Thomas, wrists held tight, heart hammering. WCKD soldiers stalked down the line, checking each captive.
Teresa stepped forward, coming to stand beside Ava Paige.
“Teresa?” Minho called, disbelief cracking in his voice.
“What’s going on?” Newt demanded, breathless.
“She’s with them,” Thomas muttered, jaw clenched.
You stared at your sister, betrayal bruising every word.
“She betrayed us,” you whispered.
Ava stepped forward, her expression cold and triumphant as the WCKD soldiers tightened their grip on the group.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” she said, voice carrying over the camp like a blade. “You’ve all been through so much. But this-” her gaze swept across the kneeling survivors “-this is necessary. For the cure. For the future.”
Beside her, Teresa kept her eyes on the ground, jaw trembling ever so slightly. But she didn’t move.
WCKD soldiers began separating people, yanking Immunes to their feet. Someone screamed. Someone else tried to run and was slammed into the dirt.
A soldier grabbed your arm and hauled you upright. Newt struggled beside you; Thomas was already fighting, only to be struck across the back with a baton.
“Take the Immunes first,” Janson ordered. “The rest are expendable.”
Everything felt like it was collapsing, until suddenly, a deafening explosion tore through the camp.
The explosion hit like a shockwave, knocking soldiers off their feet and sending a plume of sand and fire into the sky. You stumbled backward, the soldier gripping you losing his hold as the ground trembled beneath you.
“What the hell-?!” Frypan shouted, shielding his head as debris rained down.
A second blast followed, then a third, lighting up the camp like a storm. Screams and alarms filled the air as WCKD soldiers scrambled for cover.
From the ridge above, a familiar voice echoed through the chaos.
Brenda appeared seconds later, sliding down a rope, firing as she descended. She landed with a thud and immediately cut through a soldier blocking her path. “Don’t just stand there. RUN!”
The group moved on instinct. Thomas yanked you upright, pushing you behind the overturned truck for cover.
“Come on!” he shouted, voice hoarse. “We can get out through the east side!”
WCKD soldiers were disoriented, their formation broken. Shots fired wildly as dirt kicked up around your feet. You ducked your head, sprinting beside Newt as Jorge tossed another explosive, buying you precious seconds.
A hovercraft overhead adjusted its lights, sweeping the ground in frantic arcs.
“Go! GO!” Brenda yelled, already running ahead.
You all tore through the shredded remains of the camp, past burning tents, overturned tables, bodies, and toppled crates. Your breath was thin, your heart pounding so hard it hurt.
As you neared the far end, you spotted Minho darting ahead of the group, clearing a path with fierce determination. But he didn’t see the WCKD soldier lunging from the side-
The stun baton connected with his torso, a violent crack filling the air. Minho convulsed, collapsing instantly to the dirt.
“No!” Newt cried, skidding to a stop.
Thomas sprinted toward him, but a swarm of soldiers closed in, dragging Minho by his arms toward the hovercraft. He struggled weakly, eyes dazed, breaths ragged, but the stun charge had taken most of the fight out of him.
“Get off him!” Thomas yelled, slamming into a soldier only to be hit across the back with a rifle. You rushed in beside him, but another guard seized you, pinning your arms.
“Let me go!” you snarled, fighting with everything you had. The soldier didn’t budge.
Minho’s eyes met yours for a split second - fear, pain, defiance.
Then the hovercraft doors closed.
“No- NO!” Thomas shouted, voice breaking as the machine lifted from the ground, engines roaring. “Bring him back! MINHO!”
Jorge grabbed Thomas before he could run under the rising craft blades. “It’s too late, hermano! We gotta move!”
Thomas collapsed against him, shaking with rage and helplessness.
Brenda tugged at your arm. “We have to get out of here before they regroup!”
You looked back one last time as the hovercraft vanished into the night, carrying Minho - and everything you’d just lost - with it.
The camp was burning. Survivors were scattered. And your sister stood somewhere amidst WCKD soldiers, watching it all happen.
Thomas wiped his face, eyes dark with something colder than grief.
“I’m getting him back,” he said. “I don’t care what it takes.”
You swallowed hard, stepping beside him.
“Then we’re going with you.”
And together - broken, furious, and determined - you disappeared into the desert darkness.
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