I know I'm yelling, screaming incomprehensible things as the bangs on the door of the classroom grows louder and louder.

The door wouldn't hold on much longer, that much I know. Even with that large bookshelf keeping it shut.

"Tris." Uriah gasps from the ground, his face turning paler by the second, the pool of blood spreading fast. "Tris, go. You have to leave me. Go!"

My watery eyes jump from door, to him, and I shake my head immediately, "Leave you? Are you insane! They would kill you, Uri! Don't you understand that? They will kill you for disobeying them and trying to escape!"

"Well, I'll probably die anyway." He chokes up with a gurgled chuckle, but I know him well enough to know that he is as scared as I am, even if he's still cracking jokes in the face of death.

I continue shaking my head, ignoring his ill attempt at a joke, and press harder on the gunshot wound in the center of his stomach. I try not to gag at the growing pool of blood around the both of us, soaking his grey prison clothes and staining my hands red.

"Tris, please -"

"I'm not leaving you, Uriah! End of!" I bark, snapping my head up to glare at him. He shuts his mouth and stays quiet.

Inhaling a deep breath through my nose – partly to calm me down and partly to avoid the strong stench of blood – I keep one hand pressed against his abdomen, and bring my other hand up to rub my throbbing temple gently. "What should I do? What should I do?" I mutter to myself, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to think up a plan. "Damn it."

"Tris?"

"I told you, Uri," I whisper, the drive leaving my body, "I'm not leaving you. So please don't ask me to again."

"There's a window."

"What?" I ask, frowning at him.

He raises his eyebrows, and the sweat that gathered on his forehead slowly trickles down. "There's a window over there."

"Yes, and?"

"And…" Uriah breathes, "And we could jump out and escape."

"Jump out… in your condition? We must be two or three stories high!" I say.

"Do you have any other ideas, then? Because now will be a good time to share them."

I open my mouth to speak when a loud gunshot sounds from outside, followed by a bang. I freeze in place, and by the way Uriah tenses underneath me, I know we come to the same conclusion; they just blasted the lock of the door open. Now all that's holding them back is the bookshelf.

"The window it is, then." I mutter. Inhaling deeply, I grab his hand and place it on the wound, "Press hard, okay? I need to figure this out."

He nods weakly, replacing my hands with his.

Giving him a small, encouraging smile, I stand up and stride up to the large window, which looks out onto a stretching field. This must be the back of Erudite headquarters. Opening the latch of the window, I lean my body into the cool air, allowing it to caress my skin lightly for a few seconds, before I return my focus back to the task at hand.

I note that we aren't that high, seeing as we ran down almost 5 flights of stairs before the Dauntless traitor guards, along with a few Erudite guards, caught up to us and shot Uriah. So that would mean we would have to jump from the second story of the building. That wouldn't be so bad, if Uriah didn't have a gaping, bleeding hole in his stomach. And this drop could potentially kill him. I won't take that chance.

Exhaling loudly, I prepare myself for a moment, composing myself, before turning back around and returning to Uriah's side. I remove his hands from the wound and replace them with mine.

Uriah follows my every movement with his eyes, and when he notices I won't be saying anything, he speaks up with a raspy voice, "Well?"

I blink back tears and force a smile on my face, but I know it's not very convincing because Uriah's expression turns worried, "At least we tried, right?" I whisper, swallowing the lump growing in my throat.

"What do you mean? Can't we escape out of the window?" He asks with a crease in his forehead, and attempts to sit up.

I gently push him back down and ignore the hissing sound that leaves his lips. I shake my head and say, "It's too big of a drop for you to handle in this state. I'm sorry, Uriah."

He stares at me for a moment, silent. I avoid eye contact, trying to hide how much our failure hit me, and keep the pressure on his abdomen, when his voice suddenly fills the silence. "I'm a Dauntless."

My head snaps up and my eyes meet his involuntarily. Frowning, I say, "I know."

"I'm a Dauntless, Tris, and that means I am courageously resolute, especially in the face of danger or difficulty. I am not discouraged until the entire fight leaves my body, and I still have fight, Tris. I am still determined to win this, and you should be too, okay?" My eyes begin to water again, not because he sounds so brave, so valiant, even with a weak voice, but because he's right, and because I'm giving up too easily.

"You're right." I mutter, my lips quivering slightly. "You're absolutely right." I say, louder. Sitting up straighter, I look at Uriah's injured and weak body, and slowly unbutton the grey prison shirt I'm wearing, ignoring his questioning look. I slip off the shirt, now only wearing a light, white tank-top that is way too little for the weather that is raging outside, and slide it underneath Uriah's body, bringing the two sleeves to meet each other over his wound, and tying them together tightly.

I face Uriah and give his hand a gentle squeeze, "Ready?" I ask. He nods, and with my help, he slowly gets to his feet. Balancing half of his weight on my shoulder, we take an unsteady step towards the window, and another, and another, until we reach our destination. Uriah slowly leans out of the window and looks down at the drop, before letting out a loud whistle and turning to me.

"Nothing I haven't done before." He grins, winking.

I smile back, proud of the fact that he is keeping up a brave face. "You go first, okay? Just… be careful."

He nods and slowly pushes himself on the ledge. It takes him a moment to steady himself, and when he does, he partially turns to me and gives me thumbs up.

"Pretend... pretend you're jumping off the train, okay?" I tell him with a shaky voice.

The winds are too loud, too violent, but still, his voice carries over just before he takes the jump, "I haven't done that in over a year, Tris. But one thing I learnt is that you never forget something you grew up doing." And he leaps off.