Stay with me, baby stay with me
Tonight don't leave me alone
Walk with me, come and walk with me
To the edge of all, we've ever known
She was walking towards him in the dim light of the passage, her hand reached out to follow the rock wall as a guide. Her hair was blonde, and long again, the way it was when they first met, and she smiled shyly, still nervous, still not entirely understanding why she alone had stood out to him, shining like a beacon. She stopped a few feet away, head cocked to the side as though listening for something.
"Someone's coming," she whispered, eyes widening with alarm.
"It's fine, we're not doing anything wrong," he answered with a grin, thinking to himself that maybe the war had made them a little jumpy.
"No, they can't find us," she insisted, and he sensed it was better to just go along with her than try to argue.
"Alright, come on, this way then." He jerked his head to indicate the passage behind him.
"I should go," she said, turning away.
"No!" he reached out to her, trying to grab her wrist, but his hand closed around thin air as her body vanished in thin wisps of smoke until he stood alone in the dark passageway.
Tobias kept his eyes tight shut as he lay in his bed, the memories flooding back in the form of wet stains on his cheeks and a salty taste on his lips. All to easily, he remembers the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, seeing her body torn and bloody in the hospital, and he would give anything for the image to disappear. He shuts his eyes tight, squeezing them together, and tries to hold onto the Tris he saw in his dream, beautiful and whole and alive.
Stay with me, he thinks to himself, pleading with her in his mind, with a god he doesn't really believe in to give her back. Right now, he thinks he would stay asleep forever if it meant he could dream of her. He looks over at the picture Caleb drew of her, wishing he had more, because the look on her face is wrong, not the way she used to look at him, with love in her eyes and confidence and bravery and intelligence, and everything that he saw the very first time he looked at them and knew that he could never leave Dauntless, not now that she was there. Instead, he saw kindness, and acceptance, the expression that is so familiar in Abnegation, but not one he ever saw Tris wear. It's a drawing of a little sister, not a beautiful woman he had fallen in love with, a drawing of Beatrice rather than Tris, but he keeps it on his nightstand because even though it is wrong, it's the closest thing he has to a picture of her, the closest thing he will ever have. He doesn't want her face to slip away from him over time, and he worries that it will, worries that he'll forget the way the corners of her eyes wrinkle when she truly smiles, the way her lips would part ever so slightly when she wanted to kiss him, the way her hand automatically reached for him when they were in danger. He wants to remember every detail of her, no matter how much it hurts.
"I miss you," he whispers to her memory, before rolling over and falling back to sleep, this time dreaming of the first time he saw her as he pulled her from the net, pride and amazement written all over her face.