A/N: I just read 'Divergent' and thoroughly enjoyed it. I couldn't help but feel like this part stood out. It was an intense moment, and Four, or Tobias, really showed how much he cared for her in part. This is a glimpse into what I think he may have been feeling. It's not perfect because I tried to make it kind of lovey, but still on track with Four's personality, so not too much lovey-dovey stuff. Enjoy!
The control room is a good place to think, mostly because I know no one will bother me here. No one really comes by here that much. It's not fun and exciting, two attributes that Dauntless adrenaline junkies are always seeking out, so they tend to steer clear of it most of the time. It's just me and my thoughts here now, which isn't always a good thing, especially when my thoughts are consumed by one thing; or should I say one person. Yes, I'm thinking of her, of Tris. Big shocker, right? I wish I could shut this down like I can with most emotions. I wish she could be an average, boring Stiff instead of an intriguing, brave, and sarcastic Divergent.
The discovery of her Divergence is still fresh in my brain. So, that's why she's so fascinating. She's not boring like all the other girls I know. She's not constantly seeking thrills like all Dauntless girls, or yearning for more knowledge to the point of annoyance like all Erudite girls, or crazily peace-loving like all Amity girls, or overly honest and talkative like all Candor girls. Hell, she's not even completely selfless like all Abnegation girls. She can't be put into a category, and it's what makes her strong. That's what makes me attracted to her, a feeling I've never really felt for any female. It's an emotion I never wanted, and I still don't want it. It makes everything so much more complicated.
I'm her trainer, she's my initiate. I'm eighteen, she's sixteen. I could just list off reasons why this will never work. Yet, I still feel this odd combination of wanting to stop her from getting hurt and wanting to push her as far as she can go until she breaks. Now, because of her, I know I can't leave like I planned. She's in danger here because she can't seem to just keep her Divergence a secret like I can. Now it's my responsibility to make sure no one ever finds out her secret. I sigh and put my head in my hands. I should stop contemplating her so much.
As I stand up to leave, I hear it; a blood curdling, ear splitting scream that could only come from a young girl. My first thought shifts to Tris; if they found out she's Divergent, she's probably being thrown over the chasm right at this very moment. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, filling my blood stream and making my heart hammer in my chest. I won't let anyone near her, no matter how much I'm risking by interfering. I take off as fast as I can in the direction of the screaming. She's screaming as loud as she can, and I hope she can keep it up so I can find her. I'll make whoever is harming her sorry. I can tell by my fist clenching instinctively that I'm ready to fight. Whoever is threatening her isn't coming out of this without some injuries. And don't ask me how I know it's Tris who's in trouble. I just have a feeling.
The sight I'm greeted with is terrifying, and I'm almost positive it will haunt my nightmares for days, maybe even weeks to come; Peter is dangling Tris over the chasm by her neck while Al and Drew stand to the side, not at all helping her. They're with Peter, not her. Tris, who's normally so brave and who tries to fight her way out of these situations in her fear simulations, looks near unconsciousness. It's dark, but I can tell she's obviously beaten badly. She couldn't fight off Peter, who's nearly a foot taller than her an much, much bigger. Anger courses through me as I shout, "Put her down!"
Peter drops her, allowing her to hang onto the railing by her under arms, while he and Al take off in the opposite direction; those cowards. They're lucky that I don't have the time to run after them. Drew, however, is right where I want him. I grab him by the shirt before he can make a swift escape and I quickly punch him straight across the jaw. He flails, trying to defend himself, earning me a punch in the lip. The rest of what I do is a haze of anger that blinds me.
All I can think is that he stood there while Peter held Tris over the chasm, preparing to drop her to her death, all because she got a higher ranking. He was going to kill her over a petty thing like that. He was going to kill Tris, who's one of the best people I've ever met, who makes me care, something no one can usually accomplish. I want to beat Drew into oblivion, beat him until he realizes never to lay a hand on Tris, beat him until he feels the pain she must be in right now… The pain she must be in right now… I was so caught up in punishing Drew that I forgot Tris is on the ground, in pain right now. Quickly, I throw Drew aside and crawl over to Tris.
"Four…" she croaks out, barely conscious.
I'm frozen. I have no idea what to do. Sensitivity and tender loving care have never been my forte, but seeing Tris in pain makes my chest constrict painfully and my heart ache. So, I do what comes naturally. I pick her up in my arms as tenderly as possible and start to walk in the direction of my room. Seeing her so broken, so vulnerable, just doesn't seem natural to me. She's always so strong. I know already that I hate seeing her this way. It tugs at my heartstrings in a way nothing else does.
"Please be okay," I whisper to her shakily. "Please just be okay, Tris."
"Your hands." Her voice surprises me. It shouldn't, I know. Of course she's awake. She's been unconscious for long enough to be awake now. I can see her gaze resting on my bloody knuckles; bloody from punching Drew repeatedly. When I think back to the reason I punched him, I really don't care how much they sting. Then I think about her concern for me. She definitely has Abnegation in her. She nearly died and she's worrying herself about my hands. It makes a strange sensation pang throughout my chest. I guess it's another side effect of having a 'thing' for her.
"My hands are none of your concern," I tell her before kneeling down next to her, gently slipping an ice pack under her head. I checked her injuries while she slept. To my horror, she was covered in bruises and her ribs should be causing her trouble for the next week or so, not to mention the damage done to her head. She's a mess. It made me want to storm into the boy's dorm and throw both Peter and Al over the chasm myself. They had no right to touch her. Suddenly, I feel Tris's cool hand hover right above the cut on my lip hesitantly, like she's debating on whether or not I will allow her to touch me. Usually, I shy away from all forms of physical contact, but now I find myself holding my breath, wishing for her to just brush my skin, even slightly. She slowly touches her fingertips to my cut, causing sparks to shoot out across my body. Why does the simplest touch give me such a reaction? Maybe it's because I'm not used to being touched, or maybe it's just her.
"Tris, I'm alright," I speak against her fingers, keeping my eyes staring into hers, no matter how much I want to stare down at where she's touching me. That would just look odd, and I don't want her to know about my confusing feelings. Actually, maybe they're not all that confusing. I like her; I'm brave enough to admit it. I like her a lot.
"Why were you there?" she asks, sadly dropping her hand from my skin, where I still feel the burn from her touch.
"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream." It was the most horrific scream I've ever heard in my life. This wasn't just a scream from someone who was scared or shocked. This was the scream from someone who thought she was going to die. The desperation and the high pitch of the awful noise are still stuck in the front of my brain. I never, ever want to hear that sound again.
"What did you do to them?" she asks. I rub the back of my neck, a nervous habit of mine that I've almost learned how to tame. She doesn't seem to notice.
"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," I say casually. The image of Drew's battered face after I was finished with him runs through my mind, and I find myself reveling in it, like some kind of sick pleasure. I'm not Eric. I don't take joy in the pain and suffering of others, but letting out my anger over what he did to Tris on his face has calmed me to a certain extent.
"Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you. At least, I think that's what he was trying to say." The last sentence tells how badly I messed him up.
"He's in bad shape?
"He'll live," I reply. "In what condition, I can't say." Nor do I really care. I can see the look of triumph on Tris's face, a look I imagine I had when I saw how much damage I inflicted upon Drew. She squeezes my arm, which makes he hold back a smile.
"Good." Then something in her changes. Her face starts to contort into a mask of pain and she looks like she doesn't know what to do. Slowly, she leans forward just a little and starts to cry. At first, I just look on, alarmed. I've never seen her cry besides the simulation day. Each sob feels like a stab to my heart and I want to take all the pain away from her, but I remind myself that this is Tris. She's strong and brave. She does not need sympathy, nor does she probably want it. So, I crouch by her side and watch her for a few moments, trying to determine what to do. What does one do when they have a crying girl on their hands, or better yet, a crying girl who they have strong feelings for? Before I can even think it through, I rest my hand on the side of her face, skimming my thumb across her cheekbone. It feels natural and oddly good. I like being able to comfort her in these subtle ways instead of bestowing pity upon her. If I have to pity anyone, they're usually the people I tend to avoid.
"I could report this," I tell her. Of course, she won't let me. She has too much pride, like I do. I wish she would, though. I'm not sure how I'll be able to train Peter, Al and Drew knowing what they did to her; knowing that they're all cowards who like to gang up on a girl not even half their size.
"No," she relies strongly. "I don't want them to think I'm scared." There's the Tris I know and lov - LIKE. The Tris I know and LIKE very much. I don't know her nearly enough to love her, right?
"I figured you would say that," I reply, using my thumb skidding across her cheekbone to distract myslef.
"You think it would be a bad idea if I sat up?" She hasn't complained about the pain, not even once. She's a true Dauntless, even when she doesn't need to be. "I'll help you."
I carefully grip her shoulder with one hand use the other to hold her head, covered in her beautiful blonde locks that I find myself staring at as she passes me every day. She uses this to push herself up, suddenly biting her lip to silence sounds coming from her from the sheer pain. My heart sinks. She sees me as her instructor who she was to be brave in front of, not as someone who she could freely express how she feels with. I'm not Christina or Will. I'm not her friend, no matter how badly I wish I was. I hand her the ice pack.
"You can let yourself be in pain," I tell her. "It's just me here." I can see she's biting her lip to the point of tears that I'm tempted to lean forward in order to wipe off her face, but I do nothing. I don't want to embarrass Tris by mentioning her tears.
"I suggest you rely on your transfer friends to protect you from now on," I tell her. There's no way I can be there to save her all the time, no matter how badly I wish I could. She'll have to put her trust in people like Will and Christina, who are there for her almost all the time.
"I thought I was. But Al..." Tris says shakily, then she presses her hand to her forehead and rocks back and forth slowly like someone having a breakdown. I could easily hug her to my chest right now like I so want to and try to comfort her, but then again, I can't. She'd never allow me. So, I just sit there helplessly while Tris rocks herself in near fetal position, looking more helpless than I think I've ever seen her. Al was her friend, someone she trusted, and he took part in a brutal attack on her. The way she's reacting to it is enough for me to want to storm to the dorm and beat Al up like I did to Drew. He deserves it even more.
"He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation," I tell her softly. "He hurt you because your strengths made him feel weak. No other reason." It's true, but it kills me to know it won't take away her hurt. Trust is something that is not always easily given, and when someone violates that trust in such a grotesque way, it hurts more than anything in the world. Images of Marcus and a belt flash through my mind quickly, but I force myself to push it as far away as possible. Now is not the time.
"The others won't be as jealous is you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real." Tris looks at me like I've gone insane.
"You think I have to pretend?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
I think of how she broke down a few minutes ago, how she sobbed violently while I tried in vain to comfort her. Then I think of how she let herself cry in front of me without worrying about how I would perceive her, of how she didn't even try for my sympathy or my pity, and I answer, "Yes, I do."
Reaching out, I take the ice pack from her, accidentally brushing my fingers with hers while doing so. The contact makes my fingers tingle, but I do my best to ignore it. I hold it against her head, letting her give her arm a rest. I'm more than glad to help her so she doesn't have to lose any more strength. She needs all she can get right now. I stand up, looking down at her. I notice now how extraordinarily small Tris is. Of course, I've noticed this before. I'm not blind, but it's just now that I realize why she can't always defend herself against things like this. She could easily pass for twelve if you didn't already know she was sixteen. Again, I feel that weird half-urge to protect her coinciding with my urge to push her and make her show everyone that she is not to be messed with.
"You're going to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you," I add sternly, "but you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down." She seems less than enthused by the idea.
"I don't think I can do that," she says hollowly, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. Part of me wants to give in to her and tell her to just rest herself for the day tomorrow, but I know that more harm will come to her if they think they have gotten inside her head, and I refuse to let any more harm come to Tris. This is for her own good.
"You have to," I tell her sternly.
"I don't think you get it," she insists. "They touched me."
I grip the icepack in my hand, keeping it deathly still while I feel anger I have never felt before rise inside me, deep from within my core. I will rip those three to shreds until their bodies are not even identifiable. I'll throw them into the chasm, piece by piece.
They touched her? Does she mean what I think she means? But, all of her clothes were on when I found her… Then again, they wouldn't throw her body in the chasm naked. People would suspect things. The anger flairs up again, mixed in with a crippling sadness. Of all the things they could have possibly done, they beat her and raped her. I spit the word out, even in my mind. It sickens me to think of Tris falling prey to those miserable cowards. I don't even want to begin to imagine her screams, the ones I didn't hear.
"Touched you," I manage to spit out, disgusted by the word on my tongue.
"Not… in the way you're thinking. But… almost."
I let myself feel slight relief before going back to feeling enraged. The word almost cuts through my skin like a razor blade. Almost doesn't change what they were planning on doing to her. They were planning on raping her and then throwing her into the chasm. How can someone casually plan that? How can someone decide to just rape and murder Tris because of something as petty as a higher score? I can't fathom why someone would ever do that to Tris, of all people. It makes my heart clench and my veins burn with fire when I imagine what could have happened had I not heard her. By her sureness of it, I'm positive she got some hints from them on what their plans were for her. Suddenly, I don't feel any better. If I had been just a few minutes later, Tris could be a lot more damaged than she is right now. The thought makes my stomach lurch and my fists clench. The three of them are dead. I will make sure they will never get within six yards of Tris ever again.
Silence falls over us. The conversation was an awkward one, to say the least.
Finally, she breaks it by asking, "What is it?" Looking at her, I decide what I need to tell her. Despite the fact that it's extremely unprofessional, I don't care. Screw professional. I lost all notion of that the minute she told me they put their hands on her.
"I don't want to say this, but I feel like I have to. It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand?" I keep my gaze steady on her while she nods. Good, she's willing to bend the rules. I knew she would be. "But please, when you see an opportunity," I touch her face, marveling in the feel of her soft skin underneath my fingertips. I tip her chin so she has no choice but to meet my eyes. I like her eyes. They're warm and hold so much more than most sixteen year old's would. "Ruin them."
She laughs. The sound makes something stir in my chest. I love it. It sounds warm and soft, something that makes me feel at peace. It's a sharp contrast to her screams of terror from earlier.
"You're a little scary, Four." Four. My Dauntless-born nickname feels so wrong coming from her mouth. I feel all these emotions for her, she let me see her vulnerable side, and she doesn't even know who I really am. I want her to, but when I'm sure that the time is right.
"Do me a favor," I ask of her, "and don't call me that." She looks confused.
"What should I call you then?" She only knows Four, the harsh trainer. In fact, if she knows me as harsh, then I've done my job well. She doesn't know me yet as Tobias, the eighteen year old boy who has a crush on her.
"Nothing." I take my hand away from her face and feel the warmth disappear from it.
"Yet."
As I watch Tris sleep in my bed, her breaths steady and even, I can't help but think back to that scream that I head coming from her. It gutted me, knowing that she was that terrified. She thought her life was ending in the worst possible way. No one should have to go through that, especially not Tris. I stare at her sleeping form on my bed, ruminating on my feelings for her, and that slip up in my mind from earlier. I can't stop thinking if it's possible. Could I possibly be in love with Tris?
Yes, it's entirely possible, but I don't have to think about it right now. I just thank everything that's holy that Tris is alive and fall asleep to the sounds of her peaceful breathing beside me.
A/N: Dang, it's so hard to make something narrated by Four romantic! He's just so... not. But please, tell me what you think!