Good day readers! A few days ago, I finished reading The Death Cure, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who was devastated by the ending! Here, I present to you an alternate ending. Need I say more? :) I decided to keep some wording identical to the book, in order to stay true to the story in a way. Hope that doesn't cause any issues! This is my first attempt at writing anything like this, so I am especially excited to see your reviews! Comments and suggestions on everything from grammar to style are always welcome! I really hope you enjoy! ~Wolfe

The scene is W.I.C.K.E.D. Headquarters, the storage room just outside the maintenance room which houses the Flat Trans.

The sounds of explosives deafened him and rocked the room around them.

"Thomas!"

Yet there was a distinct silence, a ringing in his ears from the explosions. He just sat there, staring at the pale face, refusing to release his grip.

"Thomas! Let's go!" It was Minho. "He's dead!"

Thomas suddenly snaps out of his paralysis and lets go of the man's neck, as Minho helps him to his feet.

"We need to go!" Minho shouted in his ear. "And now!"

Minho begins dragging Thomas towards the maintenance room until he finds his footing and is half running, half stumbling along. A coordinated detonation sends both walls of the storage room blasting inwards, throwing cement across the room in varying sizes. Thomas ducks as he covers his head, but keeps running. A cloud of dust follows the fragments as debris rain down all over on Thomas, Minho, and the others. Through the thick smoke, Thomas is able to make out shadowy figures trying to get to the door of the maintenance room. Through all the convulsions they were falling, but getting back up again. Stumbling and faltering, but still moving. Toward salvation. He and Minho shakily run towards the door, the tremors of the explosions never stopping.

He didn't know it would work. Being on the verge of death makes you forget some things. Things like all of the firearms had been disabled by the intruders. But the building was collapsing. Most rooms were already buried under feet of rubble, including the bathroom in which Thomas had planted the device. He raises his pistol with shaky hands, blood clouding his vision. He can see them, just barely. His fellow soldiers lay dead beside him. Dead. He wouldn't let them get away. Not like this. He cocks the gun, and squeezes the trigger six times, until he is engulfed by darkness, never to move again.

Over all the noise, Thomas hears a shot ring out. It can't be, he planted the device himself. None of the guards' launchers or pistols worked through this whole encounter. At least not until now. Then another. Realizing it's actual gunfire makes him throw himself on the ground, hands over his head. A splintering, shattering noise splits the air, as a large piece of the ceiling collapses in front of him. He frantically looks around as shots bounce about the concrete near him. Minho has disappeared from his view up ahead. He feels a sharp pain in his shoulder, probably an injury from the previous battle. He can't hear anything above the thunderous noise of the blasts. People are still running towards the Flat Trans around them, some trying to keep low. He sees a figure to the front and a bit to the left. The bullet impacts the back of the runner, a bit of blood spraying out as it makes contact. She jerks backwards and falls on her knees, then forward onto her side.

"Teresa!" Thomas screamed, an unearthly sound that somehow rose above everything else. The shots had ceased, and he scrambles to his feet and sprints towards her. He sees someone running towards him from the direction of the Flat Trans, but ignores it. Thomas collapses onto his knees beside her, his left hand on her shoulder. He can see the wound where the round entered her back as blood seeps out of it. Putting pressure on the area with his other hand, he turns her over.

It was Brenda.

"Brenda!" He doesn't know what to do. She's unconscious, still breathing, but through rough and quick gasps. The metal had punctured her lung, and she was choking up blood. There is nothing he could do. Just as the gasps halt, he's being dragged by the collar of his shirt. Someone else grabs him under the arm and forces him to his feet. Still looking at her, he stumbles a few steps backwards. Someone is holding his arm now, pulling him to turn around. It's Teresa. "Thomas, I'm really sorry. But we need to go."

"Damn right! The whole thing is about to come down on us!" shouts Minho.

The two of them grab Thomas by the arms and pull him towards the Flat Trans. Everyone else was already through. The deafening roar of the world coming down around them rose to an unimaginable level. The crashing of metal and concrete combined with the explosions and the tremors that came with them amplified. But he never looked back. Together, they jumped into the icy gray wall.

Thomas landed on the floor of the wooden shed. He coughed from the dust inhaled, his heart racing. He crawled forward to get away from the Flat Trans in case any debris came through. He could barely breathe. Barely think. What had just happened? He flipped onto his back, propped himself up with his elbows, and looked around. Minho and Teresa were looking in his direction, the rest behind them exiting the shed, some helping others who were wounded. Minho offered an arm to help him up as Teresa moved toward some sort of control panel to the Flat Trans on the wall of the shed. He took Minho's hand and was pulled up, then turned to see the Flat Trans flicker for a few moments, then disappear completely. The control panel had vanished also, revealing the cedar planks of the shed behind it.

"How'd you do that?" Thomas asked.

"I didn't do anything. It just happened by itself." Teresa replied.

"I guess the control panel on the other side got obliterated. Can't function with only one, can it?" Minho asked.

"I don't know." Thomas replied. He put a hand to his head.

"Well, either way, there's no going back now." Teresa said.

"Good that." Thomas answered silently. He felt dizzy.

"Good that for sure, slinthead." But Minho didn't have his trademark smirk anymore. Everything that had happened up to this point left its mark even on the tough Minho. At that moment, Thomas swore to himself that he'd never tell Minho about what he had done to Newt. He couldn't bear going through it again. Newt. Perhaps the one person who treated him like a human being when he first got to the Maze. And now he was gone, just like that. By Thomas' actions. He wanted it though. He couldn't endure going through the stages of the virus, being past the Gone. That's all Thomas could think of. At least he didn't turn into...

"Well, let's check this place out." Minho said.

Thomas took a few steps, and almost fell.

"You alright?" Teresa asked.

"Yeah, just a bit shaken I guess." He replied as he regained his balance.

The three of them walked outside, Teresa maintaining space between her and Tom. She knew it was all over after what happened in the Scorch. As hard as it was, she did it all for him, and he was still here, and that was all that mattered right now. Thomas stopped and stared when he got outside. They were in a place he had been told didn't exist anymore. Green. Greener than green. And lush. So much grass, and trees, and life all around them. Like someone had painted a beautiful landscape and put it right there, right in front them. The shack was on a hill overlooking a field of tall grass and wildflowers. The two hundred or so people they rescued were wandering around, some of them even running and jumping. To the right, the hill descended into a valley of towering trees that seemed to stretch on forever, until meeting a wall of rugged mountains that towered into the cloudless, vibrant blue sky. To the left, the field eventually turned into brush and then sand. The ocean's foam-tipped waves were majestic as they crashed onto the flawless beach.

It was paradise.

He grabbed Teresa's hand and looked at her.

"Tom? You look..."

"I feel..." and then he collapsed to the ground.