Author's Notes:

Thought you should get the premise of the story:

It's two years after Tris' murder, but Tobiashasn't moved on. Evelyn moved out months ago. The rest you'll just have to read and find out!

Okay, spoiler alert, I'm bringing FourTris into the story.

Please read and review! I enjoy constructive criticism and I love hearing creative advice! If anything about the characters seems out of the ordinary to you, plecase don't hesitate to ask about it. This is my first fan fiction and I'm super excited to hear some reviews!

"Four."

I moan, not wanting to wake from my slumber, my dreams of what was and what could have been.

"Four. C'mon bro, I know you're awake."

I groan and turn away from Peter.

"Buddy. Get up. You've been asleep since five last night. It's 2 pm. Get up."

"Frick that."

"No. You gotta get up and be a person. Plus, I may or may not have set you up with someone tonight at eight. So..."

I roll away from him almost childishly, trying to get away from this child reality. "Peter, stop trying to set me up with random girls you meet on the bus."

"They're not all from the bus!" He protest. "Okay, most of them are, but some of them are from the train."

"I don't want to date anyone."

"Whatever, bro. It's been two years. Your room is a wreck, and so are you. She'd want you to move on at some time," he says, gently, as though trying not to offend me.

"How do you know," I mumble, "when you barely have any memories of her?"

"Because I have some memories of her."

Peter pulls me out of bed and drops me, expecting me to hold my own weight, but I fall to the floor, limp like a ragdoll.

"I'm gonna go now, but like it or not, I'll be here at eight, and you better be ready by then," he declares, nudging me with his toe. "Alright?"

I moan.

"Alright?!" He asks again, this time louder. I wince.

"Whatever."

He leaves. I'm overcome with relief, lying on the floor of this room, this empty room. 'She'd want you to move on at some time,' I hear repeated in my head. 'I can't... she was my only...' I reply to the voice. I feel hot tears welling in my eyes, and blink them back.

"Nobody's here," I think, "so why hide the years?"

I don't have an answer. Droplets appear on the carpet next to me, slowly rolling from my face at first, then gradually escalating. Tears stream from my face, unrestricted and free, my body wracked with sobs.

Through the bursts of unbearable sorrow, I manage to whisper to the nothingness around me, "You were my only..."

I wake up some time later. It must've been at least a couple of hours, though, because a knock jolts me awake, and when I check the peephole in my front door, I see Peter standing outside with Christina, and a short, blonde girl with green eyes. I sigh and run to the bathroom. Tears have lingered on my scruffy face, my lips chapped and swollen, my eyes red. I manage to flick my hair into a somewhat reasonable position and take a hot rag to my face. Within thirty seconds, the last remnants of my morning are gone.

Peter has been ringing my doorbell obnoxiously that entire time; he may have forgotten most of his past, but he's still as obnoxious as ever.

"Coming!" I yell, half-walking half-running to the door.

I swing open the door, scowling at Peter. He cringes backward, and I look over at the girl he brought. The tenth, no fifteenth one this month. "Sorry, I'm sure you're a great girl but -"

She interrupts me, her voice high and peppy. "It's okay. You're not really my type, either."

I nod, and I'm about to close the door when Peter shoves his foot in front of it. "Hey uhh, can I talk to you for a moment?"

I shrug impartially. "Okay."

He pulls me aside. "Look, I get you don't want to move on yet, but at least start talking to people again. Be social. Y'know?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"At least decorate your apartment. It looks like Abnegations came in and designed it."

I nod. This is what Tris would want. Right?

He nods, as though to assure himself that he had said enough, and walls away with Christina and my would-be-date. I stand there, quietly, solemnly, and suddenly I find myself blinking back tears. I hold them in; I force the heavy door open and slam it shut. I slide down the back of the door, unable to stand any longer, and fall to my knees, tears falling quickly and silently.

Slowly the world grows fuzzier as the tears flow more freely over my cheeks.

I must fall asleep there and start dreaming, because I think I hear Tris for a second. And then the world is different.

When I wake again, I'm in a small cottage. Dawn is breaking over my world, casting light over the quiet darkness. I lay on a plush, soft bed in a warm, cozy room, but most importantly: Tris is in my arms. I hear the covers shift and fold as she sits up and plants a kiss on my cheek, her baggy pajamas hanging from her strong, compact frame, the fabric spilling over her loosely and recklessly. "Good morning, Tobias," she says, pronouncing the name like a secret, that only she and I know.

"Shhhh," I murmur. "Maybe if we don't acknowledge it, it will go away."

She laughs, and I find it somewhere in myself to laugh too. I open my eyes and brush a strand of blonde curls away from her eyes. She leans forward and kisses me, soft and tender, and I kiss her back.

"I love you, Tris," I murmur against her lips.

"I love you, Tobias," she whispers, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "My Tobias."

And then I wake up (for real, this time) to a couple of knocks and buzzes (from the door bell). There's someone at the door. I sigh quietly and stand up. "Be right there," I shout, my voice cracking.

I look in the mirror, this time not bothering with my hair. I frown at myself. Tears litter my cheeks. "Crying in your sleep?" I think. "We've hit a new low."

I walk slowly over to the door, hoping it's not Peter with another one of his random girls. "Peter, if it's you with another one of those girls from the bus or the train or whatever, just leave now."

A voice breaks the momentary silence following my demand, too light to be Peter's and yet too low to be Christina's. "It's not."

My heart flutters for a moment, and I rush to the peephole. Looking down, I see curly blonde hair and a hooked nose.

'It can't be,' I think over and over, repeating it in my mind like a chant as I fumble with the key to the door.

And yet, as I open the door wide open, it is. My hands shake; I can't breathe.

Author's Comments: Oooh, sneaky me, forcing that cliffhanger in at the last moment. What do you think? Please review and watch the story! A new one should be up later today or tomorrow.

Also, what do you think of dual narration?