A/N: I think I should mention that I hate thomesa but I love my friends and that is why I am doing this. I was bored and asked Bills what I should do and she said write her a thomesa fanfiction, so that's what I did. It was originally supposed to be a one shot, then it turned into a two shot, then three shot, and I'm possibly looking at a short story but I'm not sure, we'll see what happens.

You still believe in me, after the things I've done,

You fear for what we have become

The ground is uneven, we stumble from day to day

Took shelter where it's easy,

I know your feet are like lead but you've gotta get on the way.

And the sun keeps leaving me, the sun keeps fading away. Your face is there, but then it isn't, and you take the light away with you. Where you go, I don't think I'll ever find out.

"Thomas? Frypan's free now, if you aren't busy," Brenda's cautious voice causes Thomas to jump away from the page. He tried to put it away fast, cover it up, but she knows what he's doing. She found his box once. A box full of letters he'll never send, because the recipients are dead and their bodies are left on the other side of a machine that's now nothing more than ash. A reflection of the world he left behind. He writes to his parents, his friends, but most often, Teresa, and Thomas learns more and more about all of them through Frypan, the only friend willing to share what he knows after getting the Swipe removed. And Thomas knows that Frypan is thankful for his desire to know about the past, because he wants to talk about it but Thomas is the only one who wants to truly know.

He folds the page, puts it in an oak desk drawer, and follows Brenda out of a basic wooden plank house. It's more one room, really.

The day after the remaining Immunes made it through the Flat Trans everyone looked to the former Gladers for guidance. Everything was set up how it was in the Maze, even though that pains them, because it reminds them of their time being controlled by WICKED, but it proved efficient enough for everyone.

They find Frypan, and Brenda nods at him in greeting and then turns to leave. She doesn't want to know anything, either.

Thomas and Frypan don't say anything to each other, but enter a wooden plank house identical to Thomas' and they sit down on barrels meant to serve as stools, between a make-shift table.

Thomas wants to ask for everything Frypan has, all at once, he wants to bleed his mind dry of anything that can give Thomas some light on his past.

Frypan wants to stash it all away, he wants to make sense of all that was, is, and will be, he wants to cope with all that has been given to him and to do that he must talk about it, but slowly.

Thomas learned this the hard way, after having Frypan snap at him and storm away, leaving Thomas no choice but to find him after and apologize. So he sits and waits, wringing his fingers in his lap and Frypan stares off and drums his fingers against the table. Eventually, he speaks in a voice quiet enough to tell Thomas that he isn't really here, he's somewhere deep within his mind whirling around the past. "She told me that you used to share dreams. You guys had that freaky telepathy thing, right? Yeah, she mentioned that at first you guys kind of just let it be, but then you started to experiment with it. Then started mumbling about dreams. Something about the sun, I don't know, they were all offhand comments, really."

Thomas nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to get much more. Still, he processed the information, forcing it to sink into his mind, into a deep vault where no one could take it from him. Not ever again. And then it continued for the next hour, Frypan giving what he could on what Thomas wanted to know about, which wasn't much. And for another, Thomas would return the favour, and let him ramble on about things about his past, little things like his real name which seems foreign to him or a school project he once had or some girl he used to like in elementary school names Sophie. After he was finished for the day, Thomas would leave, and continue on with the routine the Immunes have built for themselves. Eventually, they will work on having recreational activities but it's too early for that, they are not fully established, everyone has a roll to play and I don't think anyone has fully let it sink in that they're alive, they've survived, and now the survival of the race is dependent on the survival of themselves. The only one who seems to fully grasp that is Minho, who, Thomas jokes, is three orders short of becoming a dictator. Thomas never knew he could be so bossy. But he knows that everyone is thankful for him, for he is someone grounded, someone focused on the future and not haunted by the past. At least, that's what everyone thinks. Minho is his best friend, he knows just how haunted he is. Thomas realizes that Minho is burying his grief in his work, but that's okay because at least he's being productive. Minho tells him that he can see a lot of the Immunes leading whatever it is they have going on. Right now, they're all too distraught and the memories of the world they left behind are too fresh in their mind to help Minho and give him some input on what needs to be done, so he's doing it himself.

And Thomas?

He thrives off of Frypan and what he tells him. It's the glue that holds him from falling apart. He finds some comfort in his friends, like Minho and Brenda, but when he goes to sleep at night he has a hard time thinking of the future because he is so consumed with the past. Nightmares of grievers and cranks and Newt's bloody face wrack his mind at night, and he cries because he doesn't know anything else, all he's ever been given is death and despair and destruction. He has no good memories to console the bad. When was the last time he had a dream? A good, normal dream, a semblance of childhood and innocence. Was there ever such a thing?

He tried to conjure up what Frypan told him, he tries to convince himself that it's memory, not imaginary. Sometimes, it feels that way. Eerily so. Brenda says that there are natural ways to remove the Swipe, but it takes years and has not yet been perfected. The idea a derivative from the concept of hypnosis and psychotherapy. She says he's been practicing it, without even realizing it, with trying to force his way past the barrier with Frypan's information and trying to live through it. Though she says it'll take years, if it even works. And that leaves Thomas confused. Is it a real memory, or does he just hope that? Thomas does nothing but wonder until the exhaustion from the day lull him to sleep.

The first thing he takes notice of are the mountains. They lay under him, stretching on for miles, distance colouring them blue. The first thing he hears are waves crashing against an unseen shore. Thomas cannot see any kind of civilization, whatsoever, but instead of feeling scared of uneasy he felt a blissfully overwhelming sense of peace. At first, the peace was solitary, and Thomas was content enough to enjoy his own empty mind, until he felt the presence of another person. He shifted to the left, and slowly opened his eyes to find a pair of smiling ice blue eyes staring at him. Thomas sat up straight, staring at the girl in front of him in shock and happiness.

"You're here!" he exclaimed, and she giggled a little at his excitement.

"Oh, calm down, I'm no celebrity," despite her nonchalance, she still had a smile etched onto her face. Teresa joined Thomas on the grass, and laid her head on his shoulder. Together, they were quiet as they observed the world as it was, until Teresa sighed.

"I didn't think this would work," she said honestly. She didn't, really. She's been practicing by herself, but she never knew if it was safe, or even possible, to attempt something like this. She needed Thomas to be open to it, and she was never sure how to ask, if she even could, but deep down she always knew that he would always be open to her, even if he didn't believe it. Once she realized that, there was no stopping her from trying. Trying to reach him. Share this moment with him. And, right now, now that she has it, she does not care that what they're doing could be unnatural or impossible or delusional, they have this moment and she does not want to waste it by wondering how things are, instead of accepting what is.

"I'm glad it did," Thomas said, closing his eyes in contentment. Teresa knew then, why exactly she has this connection with him. Because they fit together so well, and he can always say the right things that correspond with her thoughts. He's her mirror, he's everything she wants to be. Sometimes, that little fact makes her sad, because she knows that he can be everything she can't be. But Teresa knows that the past is the past, and there's no time to dwell on what they're doing, or have done, is right and that Thomas handled certain things better than she did. This, what they have, does not exist in the outside world so the problems their conscious selves face should not exist in this world. The world that they've created. Teresa doesn't think she's ever seen such a beautiful world, a world which is a mix of mountains and sea beyond, the sanctuaries of two minds coming together, for this landscape, meant for them and them only.

Thomas and Teresa talk, they talk for hours, days, weeks, years, they talk for centuries about everything they like and what they hope for the future, they talk millenniums worth of their fears, their weaknesses, and everything created by them seems endless.

Thomas doesn't think that the sun will ever set, because the light shining in Teresa's dark hair is far too bright to ever fade.

Teresa doesn't believe that any of the mountains that lay before them reach their peak, because her high off of seeing him again and sharing this gift with him seems to go on forever.

In their minds, it is forever, and they have forever more to waste.

Thomas knows that this is just a dream, but he can't quite grasp what is happening in the real world. He can't remember how old he is, or where he is sleeping, or what he was doing before he went to sleep. He wants to ask Teresa, but he somehow feels as though she's too far away from him. She's with him, but not really. She could be anywhere, and Thomas wouldn't know the difference. She could be simply sleeping in another room, or she could be in another country, or she could be gone from this world completely. Throughout the dream, she was his source of light, more important and burning brighter than the sun, and when he decides to come out and ask anyway, the dream is over, the light is gone, and he is plunged into darkness.

A/N: I WILL TRY AND MAKE MY CHAPTERS LONGER BILLS. And if you don't get it, Thomas and Teresa used to use their telepathy to share dreams. Thomas is slowly trying to get his memory back himself, and cannot decide if the dreams of Teresa that plague him at night really happened and he's remembering, she's somehow contacting him herself in the present, or if he's imagining it all. I know what's really going down, but I'm not telling hahahaha I want it to be open to interpretation, and I want you to tell me what you think. Yes, that means review. Also I never read the Kill Order, I don't know what that has to do with anything but if the question should ever come up...and, yes, at this point I'm just writing this A/N to make the document longer, because usually on my word documents my average chapter is anywhere from 5 – 9 pages, and this one is THREE.