"I know who you are," she says. "You're the Stiff. Four told me about you."

I watch him a few minutes more, and then ask. "You OK?"

He gives me that look. The one that makes the baby Dauntless freeze. "Why do you want to know?"

Four often meets questions with questions. Putting you on the back foot; into defense before you're really aware of it. It's not dissimilar to how he combat trains, and it's effective... unless he's drinking. Then, and only then, his Stiff childhood fails him. When he's good and buzzed, he relies on inhibitions us Dauntless don't share - openly invites interrogations assuming we'll back the hell off, rather than get personal.

Poor Four.

"Because I head out to the fence, and you're OK. I get back, and you're so sullen even the fanclub just avoided you in the cafeteria." I raise my eyebrows. "Achievement fucking unlocked with that one, by the way. And then there's the drinking. You're chugging this filth like it's water, which given how badly it burns is fucked up, even by your masochistic standards. Plus you're staring at the chasm like it has the secrets of the universe all over it." I rest my head against the stone at our backs. "So. You can just cut the crap and tell me now, or you can wait for Zeke to get here and deal with the tag team. Your call."

"Shauna..."

"You think I'm kidding? Like we never snuck into your apartment and had sex in your bed? You forgotten so soon?"

Four stiffens. "I remember. I burned the damn sheets."

We did it to weird him out - it was a dare, we could hardly say no - but he'd said very little about it at the time. I mean, he did change the locks. Add a deadbolt, even. But sheet-burning... I'm somewhat insulted. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, well. Wasn't so much you," he says. "Zeke, though..."

"That was the right answer." I eye him. "So c'mon, just tell me already."

"Why are you doing this?" he asks. He sounds bewildered. It's kind of heartbreaking, Four's confusion. He really can't accept it, even after all this time - that he has friends, that we care about him, that it's our concern whether or not he's alright. He still freezes when we show him affection, even a quick hug, he hates being touched. Stiffs think love is an indulgence, affection just a distraction from saving strangers, so their kids grow up thinking they're worthless. At least that's what we were always told, and I believe it, knowing Four like I do. Fuckers should be shot for what they did to him. The mighty Four, but he's set lower value on himself than anyone I ever knew.

"Well, it works like this: you have problems and you feel like crap, and then you tell people who care about you why that is, and then they help. Even if all they can do is pour liquor till your eyes bleed." I wave the bottle in front of him till he takes it and gulps some more. "C'mon, Four. Cut yourself a break. Share."

He stares back at the water churning in the chasm, and then he sighs, and rubs his face so hard he's pulling at the skin. But he says nothing, just looks exhausted and despairing, and I feel a prickle of real unease in my gut. We've hung ever since he arrived, I've seen him morph from awkward lanky weirdo into Four, but I've never, ever seen him like this. He's a brooder and he's private, but this goes well beyond. He looks like his life is crashing around his ears.

"Four... you're not sick, are you?"

"Sick?" he says, eyes coming up to mine in genuine surprise.

I let out a long exhale. "Then what? What is it?" He avoids my eyes. "Four?" I'm losing patience. "For fuck's sakes! If you don't care about yourself, try thinking about us. You have any clue how worried I am? You're scaring the hell out of the people who care about you!"

His eyes slide shut for a moment, like it's the single thing I've said that he can't dismiss. Then, "This in confidence?"

"Well duh! You think I'd tell anyone else your shit?"

He's quiet so long I start to think he's changed his mind, before he sighs and mumbles under his breath, "I like someone."

"What?" I say. I'm not completely certain I heard right.

"A girl." He sighs and rubs his face again. "I like a girl."

I collect my jaw up, and then I punch his arm. Hard. "Are you for real, asshole? All this over some crush? I think you're dying, and you've got blue balls! Are you fucking kidding me?"

He glances at me. Then - "Yeah," he says, so evenly I know he's seriously pissed, "I made it up just for you. And don't ever hit me again."

I hold my hands up in mock surrender, instantly sorry. This is a big deal to him. Just because it's nothing at all to me, that doesn't mean it's easy for Four. "Sorry, sorry. You're right, it was shitty of me. So... who is she?"

He folds his arms defensively and scowls, but he doesn't elaborate. I guess I deserve that.

Zeke and I spent a lot of time, that first year, trying to set Four up. But back then he'd not honed the warrior hero deal - he was just inept. These days pretty much nobody would knock him back, in fact there'd be a line, but he's never done anything about it - he rejects anyone who chances it, always suspicious, always assuming there's an agenda other than his own appeal. If he likes someone enough to admit to it, then he has to like her a lot. And Four has never, not once, shown specific interest in a girl before.

"Four," I say, "Look, I'm sorry. It's progress, you know? You putting yourself out there. I'm happy for you."

His head flicks round and he looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Happy for me?" he says, and shakes his head. "Right."

"Yeah, of course. Good news." I grab his arm as he snorts derisively, and repeat, "It's great. OK? You deserve it. You deserve this. So. Who is it?"

His expression darkens again. "An initiate." He says it like it's some dreadful admission, like he's an evil predator on purity and innocence. Like he isn't the purest innocent himself I've ever damn met. "One of the transfers." He sighs, and the misery on his face is almost comical. "Obviously I won't act on it."

"Oh, for... just cut it out, Four." My mind is flicking through the transfers, and I narrow it down to one almost at once. It's the Candor brunette. Has to be. No chance it's the human tank, and he was just irritated by the loser who followed her boyfriend here, she wasted everyone's time. "There's just a couple years in it, and no offense, but you were a freaking Stiff. She'll be able to teach you some tricks..."

"That's who this is..." he says, interrupting me like he can't bear hearing any more.

"What's who what is? You're not making any damn..."

"...the Abnegation transfer."

"...sense." And with that, I stop talking.

This is all I know about the Stiff: she's useless. Past that I draw a blank. She's plain, but I can't remember any actual features. Crazy short, skeleton skinny, mousey hair, and that's it. Faceless, in my memory. Someone you'd define, if you ever bothered to do it at all, by everything she's not. She's instantly forgettable.

But not to Four.

The silence stretches well into awkward territory, and I need words that show I know who he's talking about. Ones which don't insult. Improving on her hair color is all I can manage. "Oh right, the blonde girl," I say, trying to sound casual. Like there's an array of Stiff initiates this year, and I'm just checking I got the right one. He nods, expressionless, eyes on mine, a muscle going in his jaw. He's nobody's fool. "She's, uh..." factionless soon enough, given how crappy she is at just about all of it. I don't know why she's not cut already. And plain. Did I mention plain?

"'Uh' is right," he says. He looks more miserable than I've ever seen him, and he's not exactly a ray of fucking sunshine most days.

I can't even remember her name. I'm trying, I'm frantically dredging up memories of the board, but she's been on the wrong side of it, and those aren't the names I read.

"Tris." Four says quietly. "Yeah, don't pretend," as I start to protest, "I know you didn't know. Her name is Tris."

But the name unlocks one strong memory, which I rapidly access. "First jumper though, right?" Thank the Lord, a real positive. Big one at that. I mean, we'd assumed it was just the Stiff sacrificing herself for others, and it probably was, but at least, and at last, I can say something nice. "A transfer never goes first. Hell, I couldn't, and I knew about the net since I was six. She has to have a lot of guts, doing that."

"Why d'you think I like her?" he says, irritated.

I have to give him that one. He must see something in her personality, cause she sure as hell hasn't anything more obvious to offer him.

I can't compute this. So I'm thinking, thinking, thinking. This is nuts, but that's beside the point. Four likes her. However unfathomable, it's also all that matters. She's first jumper, and even if she wasn't, Four's got a gift at this, at training people, spotting talent. If he sees something more in her, then he's probably right. I still don't get it - she can be brave till the syringe runs dry, doesn't remotely explain why he wants to do her - but it's his choice, and he says she's it. And now I kind of hate myself, because I've just seen her as a walking discount for Lynn and Uriah ever since combat training started. So I smile and pat his shoulder.

"Well. That's pretty awesome."

He's quiet a moment, and then he says, "The jump, you mean?"

"Well, both. Jump, and that you feel this way about someone. This is good," I say firmly. Trying to convince myself. Four twists his head and looks at me. It's a careful examination, his eyes focused and watchful, and then I seem to pass, because he relaxes, like he's okay with my knowing. It's only then that I realize how tightly he'd still had his guard up before.

"She's smart too, you know. Really smart."

"Is she?"

"Yeah. Ask the Dauntless-borns about Capture the Flag. You know she won for us? Climbed a vantage point, located their flag. Set strategy afterwards, ambushed Eric, then went for it. One of the other transfers stole the flag and some of the credit, but it was down to Tris, our win. All the 'borns with us will back it up. They really like her, they were messing around with the paintballs on the train back."

"What vantage point? I thought you were at the Pier?"

"Ferris wheel. She climbed to the top. Not just the base structure - she climbed the actual wheel itself."

"Damn! You serious?" I'm shaking my head. I don't mind heights, but that thing is corroded as shit and I do mind falling.

"Deadly. I had to go after her. Didn't enjoy it much."

"Color me astonished. Wouldn't want to do that either."

"No," he says, and laughs a little. "It was as much as fun as it sounds."

"Aww, Four," I say sweetly. "Not the quality time you'd have liked?" But the laugh dies as I look at him - the fucker's actually gone red. "Ah. Well, that's a mental image I could've done without." Absolute lie, in reality. Four's clearly been necking up a Ferris wheel, but I couldn't pick the girl out of a lineup.

"It wasn't like that!" he says defensively, and I smile. Four like this is weirdly adorable. "It wasn't!"

"Oh, please. Your facial color says different."

"Up a damn wheel, hundreds of feet high, with a transfer initiate I have to keep alive? Give me some credit. Just... the fear, it lit her up. Lot of people, they close off when they're frightened. But not her. She comes alive. It's pretty amazing, seeing that."

"Adrenaline." It's hardly new, not around here, in fact it pretty well separates a Dauntless from a faction mistake, and now I'm idly considering if we can somehow get her to the zipline. Loosen her up, draw her in. Get her hanging out with the Dauntless-borns, cause that tends to get a kid noticed by leadership; get her assessed by Zeke and me at the same time, so we can figure out if she can make something work. If she has what she'll need to to keep up with Four. But he's shaking his head, still focused on what it is about her that farts rainbows, because he's got it so bad he thinks she's somehow fundamentally different to the rest of us. "OK, Four? If she gets off on adrenaline then she's a Dauntless, pure and simple."

"No. It's not just that. It's different."

Of course it is. "She's special to you," I say. "I get that."

"She's special." Four says, and his voice is certain. "Period."

He is so, so far out of her league that it's almost impossible to process that he likes her. But he's Four, so he's done this the way he does everything. Totally. He's not talking about her like she's a charity case, because to his mind, she's the reverse. This kid is someone he admires, not someone he's ashamed of.

I smile and pat his arm again, because he's way past rationality, and like I say, it's cute. "That's nice," I say.

"You know she challenged Eric this week?"

"What? That's not good." I mean, I get why he's impressed, but he should not be tolerating that shit, not if he wants to keep her around. He knows that, though, so what's he playing at? "What happened?"

"Friend of hers couldn't throw the knives, so Eric told him to stand in front of a target."

I suck in a breath. Eric is not good with the knives. It's why he's so nasty with the initiates over them. "Did he hit him?"

But Four is shaking his head. "No, he made me throw them instead."

"Lucky. Even if it was just to hide his shitty aim."

"Yeah, that's why I didn't argue. But Tris did. She argued. With Eric."

"Fuck." I breathe, because that is seriously bad, because Eric is a sociopath. Even Four picks his battles. "What did he do to her?"

"Made her take Al's place."

"Wait, what?" I sit bolt upright and stare at him. "Back up - you had to throw fucking knives at her?"

"Oh, it gets better. Had to hit her with one. Nicked her ear a little. He wasn't going to stop till I did."

"Shit, Four. I'm sorry."

"Wasn't a good day," he says, wry. "She was pissed at me. But she was amazing. Showed no fear at all."

It's back, the warmth in his voice. He's proud of her. And with what he's telling me, I'm starting to see why. "When'd you start to feel this way?"

A slight smile tugs at his mouth. "Instantly. And also gradually."

"Yeah. That's how it was for me with Zeke."

That implies way more than I intended, but it was a lucky accident because he relaxes further, pleased. Pleased I equate what Zeke and I have with what he must hope to have with this girl? Looks that way. How the hell have we missed it, him getting in this deep? Have we been blind, or is he just that good at hiding?

Then it strikes me that we may have another problem, because initiation is hook-up central and she's standing in front of knives for some other boy.

"Who's the guy she protected?" I ask.

"What?"

"The knives. Who'd she replace?"

"Oh." He shrugs, disinterested. "It was Al."

"Al's the big kid - aced that first fight?"

"He's big and he's strong and he should be doing fine, but he's mentally weak. Hasn't won a fight since because he doesn't like hurting people. Cries himself to sleep." There's dismissal in his voice. "He'd be out, even under the old system. He'll flunk the simulations."

"Okay, but is he attractive? To girls?"

Four knows exactly where this is headed, but he just smiles. "To some? Yeah, probably. Like I said he's a big kid, and he's nice enough. But if you're asking why Tris stepped up, it's because she protects the weak. Which he is."

"Some girls like a guy they can mother," I say, as neutrally as I can manage.

"Not Tris."

"You sound very sure."

"Yeah. I am. He's for an easy life. That's not who she is."

And I hope like hell he's right, because I love the guy, but Four is not easy.

"Well, you know the girl," I say.

He nods, body language open and relaxed. "He likes her because he thinks she's a quiet little thing, and she makes him feel braver. But she's a Dauntless and he's a coward, and he'll like her less and less when that becomes obvious." He shrugs. "She's gonna rank high in this stage."

"How did she even reach it?" I ask. "How'd she win enough fights?"

When I left, she couldn't shoot, couldn't fight, couldn't cope. It was just general knowledge. I don't know how she's made it through at all.

"She's pretty good now. She's identifying weakness and exploiting that, she's agile, fast. She worked damn hard, and it paid off. Uses her elbows, fights smart. She's fighting from her core, getting power behind her hits, and she's flexible. Mentally and physically. May even be an advantage, her size. She took Molly out while Molly was busy assuming she couldn't."

"She took out the Tank?" I say, and shake my head. "She's improved that much?" I remember him teaching me, how similar his advice was. I took it, too. I guess that's the smart part.

"Yeah. Her shooting's excellent now, too. And she had a talent for the knife work, right from the get go." He frowns then, and for the first time, he sounds ambivalent. "Plus... she's like me." I raise an eyebrow, but he's intent on his train of thought, doesn't notice. "She wouldn't have stopped on Molly if I hadn't made her. She lost it. Wasn't really aware of what she was doing." He frowns. "Think there was something going on there. It looked... personal."

I'm quiet for a moment, because as with so much of this conversation, I can't square what Four is saying with that fragile, tiny initiate. Then something else strikes me, from his mention of similarity.

"Does she know about you? What you are, I mean?"

"What?" he says. "What do you mean?" He's gone absolutely still; we're back to bristling defense in every syllable. Of course. But I won't be deterred.

"Well, were. That you were a Stiff, too." Very few know that. And I wonder how much Four has shared with Tris, given how little he shares even with us. I wonder if she has the first clue - who he is, where he's from, what he's like. Somehow, I doubt it.

He's silent. Then he meets my eyes and shakes his head. "I should. I should tell her all kinds of things, I know that. But I don't really know how." He hesitates, and then adds, "I guess... I'm out of the habit."

I have to laugh. "You were ever in it?"

"No." He makes a face.

"Ask her to hang out with us." It's impulsive, a response to his anxiety, but as soon as it leaves my mouth, I'm glad. I want Four to know he can rely on us, that telling me was a smart decision, that we'll always have his back. And for as long as he's into her, that extends to Tris as well. She's this important to him, then she's important to us, and will be for the duration. And if he's talking about opening up to her, risking being hurt by her, then she's already been good for him, just for that. Even if it doesn't last, even if she's not worth it, she's helped him already. "Go find her - ask her to hang with us. Zeke's off in ten, he'd make anyone feel right at home. We can start getting to know her. Go."

He's shaking his head before I'm done talking. "She's an initiate. I'm her instructor. I can't." He pauses, and then adds, so quietly I need to strain to hear, "But... thanks."

"Then you help her," I say, impatient. His determination to get in his own way pisses me off. It's the one thing about him that could never be Dauntless; he needs to grow out of it. "You got me through, remember? Get her through, and then tell her how you feel after that happens. She won't be an initiate then. Show her you have faith in her, go through landscape strategy with her till it's a reflex, just get her the hell through."

"I can't," Four repeats.

"Will you just stop? Screw ethics, this is her life you're playing with. Not to mention your own."

"This has nothing to do with ethics. I won't do it because it's not fair on her. She can do it on her own, Shauna. She'll ace the simulation stage. She can get there on her own merits, she wouldn't want it any other way. She'd hate to be coddled."

Pretty fucking sure she'd prefer it to factionlessness, I think, but I keep my tone brisk. "Okay, then we can talk to Uriah."

"Talk... what?" He freezes again, and I suppress the irritation. Like I'd tell his business to anyone, least of all a kid. Four has major trust issues.

"So I can't say you think the little Stiff's a Dauntless, that she could hang out with them, pick up some tips? Leadership notice when the borns accept a transfer this early. It earns her a second look from Max, he won't just take Eric's word."

"She doesn't need our help for Uriah to like her," Four says. "He already does. And the transfers just think she's weak. That protects her for now. The nicer kids look out for her, they see her the way you do - yeah," he cuts me off as I start to protest, "don't bother to lie, it doesn't matter. And with them being so new, she makes them feel good about themselves. They'll learn the reality soon enough and then she loses that protection, plus becomes a target. She's survived this stage, now she has to survive the rest. Camouflage's her best chance, because she's going to do too well in the landscape."

"You can't do too well in landscape, genius. What, you forgot your own name?"

"It was different then. The training system... doesn't reward those who excel." His mouth twists. "It puts them at risk."

I'd heard about Edward - news like that reaches the fence. But I'd heard he'd provoked it. And now I'm wondering if that rumor was one Eric's fostered intentionally, so nobody argued too much about the perp staying in Dauntless while the victim was out. And I'm shaken that Four is worried about Tris, because Edward, at least, was tough as nails. It's not like what happened to him is anything but ugly, but she's barely five feet tall, barely over hundred pounds. She's birdlike.

"Just what is going on with the transfers this year?" I ask, my voice low. The chasm noise blocks the microphones down here, but even so, I don't like to say it too loud. Just in case. "What's happening with them? It's fucked up."

Four looks at me, and his eyes are bleak. "Exactly what Eric wanted to happen," he says.

I don't have any response to that - we said enough, when it was still theoretical. The silence lengthens, and then he says quietly, "I'll ask if I need help, and I appreciate that you'll give it. I appreciate that more than I can tell you. But she's Abnegation-born, and I understand her. And to keep her safe, we have to trust her. Her instincts..." he pauses, and I know he's focused on specific memories, "they're Dauntless. She'll be fine. She just has to hold on."

"You think she can?"

"I know she can. It's who she is."

I watch him, and then suddenly I know what to say.

"Four - if things get too bad for her in there, let us know? We can help. Help you keep her from getting pushed around too much."

"She doesn't need that."

I snort. "Edward? If she is who you think she is, the shit's gonna hit as soon as she starts the simulations and they realize who the real competition is. You wanna wake up some morning and hear she's been found with a knife in her back? Get real, Four."

He looks up sharply, and there's genuine horror in his face. "OK," he says as his jaw tightens. "If I need help, I'll ask."

"Good. And she needs friends in the 'borns, because the more friends she has, the more protection. Uriah - you say they've talked?"

"Yeah, some. They'll hang out more now, pretty sure." He eyes me. "As long as he gets no ideas."

I ignore that. No good can come of pointing out that Uriah has certain standards, which she doesn't meet.

Good," I say again. I stand up and stretch, seeing Zeke start the descent, and then turn to look at Four. "Alright," I say, and smile. "It's all gonna work out fine. Trust me."

And I hope, I hope like hell, that I'm right.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this after reading the Four stories, and being surprised by how close he was to Shauna and Zeke. It shed new light on Shauna's conversation with Tris, en route to the zipline, and made me think she was intentionally selling Four to her, as well as fishing over Tris's own feelings. Which meant she knew of his interest.

Unfortunately my timelines were confused; Edward is stabbed in the middle of the night, bringing home to Four how much he likes Tris, and the ziplining happens at noon the next day, so there isn't time for this conversation to happen. I had it in my mind that there was a couple of days between the attack and the zipline, and that Shauna's fence rotation ended in between, so it was immediately on her return that she and Tobias spoke, before she'd been caught up on events (and Tris's improvement) since she left.

To that extent, this is AU.