𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

a million dreams

Part I: Thèrèse's Dream 🐞 "For Just One Dance"

Thèrèse was asleep against the cold stone wall of the Iron Lion, curled near the window where the moonlight crept in like a blessing.

And in her dream, there was music.

Not the scratchy radio crackle they sometimes danced to in moments of brief survival, but something old, warm, stringed, golden. She was standing in a wide, open courtyard bathed in lantern light. A ballroom in another life.

Bea was there.

Wearing that soft amber dress Thèrèse remembered from one of the old supplies crates — the one Bea had tried on once, then never wore again.

Her curls framed her face, and there were no tear streaks, no dark circles. Just a softness. A girl who had once known happiness, even if only in this imagined version.

Thèrèse reached out her hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Bea blinked, surprised, but smiled...  smiled, like sunlight cutting through a thunderstorm.

"You may."

They spun together under the hanging lanterns, barefoot on old stone floors. No war. No graves. No memory of Primrose. Just the music and the laughter.

Bea laughed.

God, she laughed.

Thèrèse twirled her, tears brimming in her eyes as she memorized every second.

She held onto her best friend tightly, chest aching with things she could never say out loud.

"You deserve this," she whispered. "You always did."

The music slowed. And when Bea looked up at her with that same soft smile, Thèrèse knew the dream was ending.

"Thank you," Bea said, as if she'd heard the thought.

Thèrèse awoke with wet cheeks.

But her heart was full.

Part II: Thomas's Dream 🕊️ "One Last Flight"

Thomas had trouble sleeping lately.

But that night, sleep finally took him and in it, he and Bea were hoverboarding across the ocean.

The wind howled around them, carrying sea salt and freedom. The sky above was endless, stars overhead like they were riding through space. The sea stretched out in every direction. And beside him, Bea stood tall on her board, her arms flung wide, a wild grin on her face.

She was laughing.

Thomas hadn't seen her laugh like that in... years.

"Keep up, Tommy!" she shouted, her voice carried by the wind.

"You'll fall!"

"Then I fall!" she yelled back, fearless.

So he followed.

Two silhouettes racing over waves made of moonlight and memory, no WCKD, no war, no grave markers carved in quiet places. Just Thomas and his little sister. Just this.

They slowed on a hidden island, boards gliding to a stop on soft sand. Bea dropped down beside him, panting, glowing from within.

"This..." she said, grinning, "this is what we should've had."

Thomas looked at her. Her eyes were alive again. No shadows. No pain.

He sat beside her, their shoulders touching.

"If I could give this to you... every night, forever, I would."

"You did," Bea whispered. "Tonight."

Thomas woke up to the sound of waves crashing far in the distance and a silent tear trailing down his cheek.