Chapter 1:
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent. I don't.
"You know I would never leave you," he says, stroking my hair. "Right?"
"Yes, Toby," I say. "I know you would never want to leave me."
"Alia, I'm not leaving," he says, glaring at me.
"I want you to; I want you to be safe, to not have to not have to worry about me."
He makes a noise at the back of his throat, and I know he's going to try to argue. He takes his arm from around my shoulder, using it to swipe his face instead. Despite the hour, he looks tired―it isn't even one o'clock and his eyes are sunken.
"Well I'm not," he says, gripping the edge of his desk. "I can't leave you with him. Imagine what he would do to yo―"
"So," I say. "He would probably do the same thing with you here. You think he cares?"
Tobias straightens, but when he winces I could tell it hurts him. His shirt is loose around his torso, though I can't help but stare at it, willing it not to worry the sensitive flesh underneath. He has to stop doing that―pretending his wounds are nothing to agonize. He needs to let them heal, really heal, and he doesn't do it right on his own.
"Tobias," I say, eyeing the piece of cloth around him as if it's a weapon. He doesn't need to ask.
"I'm fi―"
"Shut up," I say, reaching for his hand. He doesn't give it to me, so I grab his arm and lead him to the bathroom. I don't talk until he's sitting on the toilet, and I am rummaging through the medicine cabinet. "I'm not letting you stay."
"You can't make me go."
"Why would you stay, Toby?" I ask. I already know his answer as he says it.
"To protect you, Ali."
"But if you're already here, why does he hit me, too?"
I didn't want to guilt him into leaving―I didn't want him to leave at all―but sometimes, Toby can be too stubborn to see reason. He stops me before I can put the alcohol on his back. He doesn't say anything, but his Adam's apple bobs more frequently than not and I know he's holding back tears.
"Sometimes," he starts. "Sometimes I feel as if I could stop him. As if I could hurt him the way he hurts us. I never do, though. I want to protect you, Ali, you're all I have. You're my sister. If anything happens to you and I'm not there to help you, I couldn't live with myself."
"Then nothing will happen to me," I say, turning to the alcohol wipe when a tear falls down my cheek. "And nothing will happen to you. I'll meet you there, anywhere."
He laughs a little, though winces once I dab the wipe on his back. "I don't even know where I'm going to go."
I nod, dipping my head into the sweater I 'borrowed' from him. It smells of him―of sweat and those candles mom used to put in the hallway. He probably still has some. "So think about it."
The alcohol makes the wound foam and Tobias lets out a sigh as I blow onto his back. He anxiously taps his finger on his thigh, occasionally clearing his throat, quietly. He only lets me see him like this and even when he does, he tries not to show too much emotion.
But, it's good to let things out, I think. I mean, Marcus does it all the time. He seems pretty happy.
"Sit up a little straighter," I say. He does.
I take the gauze from the edge of the sink wrap it cautiously around his torso. When I'm done, he stands but doesn't walk away, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug instead. "You'll ruin the bandage!" I say.
"See you wherever, Ali," is all he says.
A/N: Okay, well I am trying so hard to get you guys new stuff. I'm torn because I really don't like my old fanfictions. I know they were just for fun, but its not... fun anymore I guess. I already know A LOT of you like I'm Four and This Is Six, and I don't want to disappoint you. So, just give me time and i'll try to update soon. If not, I might do a re-write of it and Without War. I don't know. Leave me your suggestions and I'll try my best.