Life after the cure; a Thomesa fanfic❤️

Prologue

A/N:- this may include unstoppable crying, tears, chronic sadness and depression and a really strong urge to murder Dashner. Still wanna take your chances? Don't say I didn't warn you.
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PS:-
For an enhanced experience play the above soundtrack as you read this chapter.
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Thomas and Teresa are lying on the top of WICKED'S headquarters, smoke and fire billowing, buildings collapsing, Thomas bleeding out in Teresa's arms, as she begs him to stay awake, keep his eyes open, even though they both know. They know they're not escaping from this, not this time. And that's okay. Because they found a cure. The rest of the immunes are safe. Wicked is gone. They won't make it to safe haven but that's okay. Because they have each other.

Resting her chip atop Thomas's head, nestled on her shoulder, Teresa echoes out the four words she can, "I'm sorry, I tried" hoping against hope that he finally understands. Understands that she never meant to hurt him or betray him, or any if their friends. All she did was to try and find a cure. It was to ensure that their were no more little Deedees who slowly watched their mother lose all sanity, got shunned and abused by her own village folk, calling her a witch, a creature of evil. She wanted to ensure their were no more tragedies like that in this world, no more girls and boys dying like little Shai, no more people dying in vain like Mark and Trina and Alec and Lana. She had tried her best to live up to the hopes they'd died with, leaving it upon her young shoulders.