I cannot move. I cannot breathe. I cannot do anything but lay there, my bullet wounds screaming pain to every inch of me, my own blood pooling around me. I see the outlines of my eyelashes, quivering. And beyond them, my mother.
"Beatrice," she says, and places a cool hand on my cheek. For some reason, even after death she smells like she did when she was alive. Like laundry detergent and fresh air. The smell of my old home, before everything happened. For a moment, I am eight year old Beatrice, safe in Abnegation. Then the pain brings me back to the present. Brings me back to being Tris.
I struggle to make words. "Am I done yet?" I am sure I spoke, or at least thought it and she heard it, because she smiles with the corner of her mouth. There are tears in her eyes. My vision is black and fuzzy at the edges.
"No...you have done so well, but you are not done." She smiles a bit wider, so it spreads to her cheeks. I struggle to process the words. "I love you, Beatrice." she says, and stands.
"Mom!" I call, or I think I do. She is walking away. The gray of her dress blurs into a smudge. A smudge of the general outline of life. A smudge of my world. And then she's gone.
I hurt everywhere. I let my eyelids flutter shut and breathe out one last time. There is blood on my cheek. I can feel it. The blackness surrounding me wraps me in it's comfort, blocking out noise, making the pain fade away. I am floating.
Then I lose my conscious.
...
There is a beeping noise. The air I breathe in smells faintly of antiseptic and latex, like a hospital. I move my fingers slightly and they slide over something cool and soft. A sheet. My eyes open, and the bright light blinds me for a moment.
I am in a hospital. There is a white sheet over my body, and a white ceiling over my head. It is all I need to know for now. A throbbing persists in my leg, another in my hip. There is a bandage around my upper arm.
"Tris?" says a shaky voice. It is familiar. It makes me ache inside, and makes me feel safe. It holds a million memories. He has short dark hair and dark blue eyes, with a patch of lighter blue next to the iris. Eyes that look safe and secure.
I turn my head, making a wave of pain shoot through my body. "Tobias," I whisper. His eyes are wide and sad. He wears a black sweatshirt and blue jeans. He looks older than I remember.
He turns away as a tear slips down his cheek. I inch my hand closer to him. I do not want him to cry. I do not want anyone to cry for me.
His warm hand takes my cold one and holds it. I curl my aching fingers over his hand and close my eyes. Then I try to remember what happened.
I took the backpack from Caleb. I set off the death serum. I survived. I made it into the Weapons Lab. David was there. David shot me twice. I set off the memory serum in the Bureau of Genetic Welfare. I fell. My mother was there. Then there was no more.
"Caleb?" I wheeze, flicking my gaze over to Tobias. He looks away for a long time before turning back to me.
Tobias clears his throat. "Caleb is okay, Tris. He's just...since we thought he was going to die, we never inoculated him from the memory serum. He doesn't remember anything."
There is silence. I squeeze my eyes shut and see Caleb, helping my mother do the dishes. Caleb, holding my hand when my mother broke her arm. Caleb, scolding me for not being selfless enough. Caleb, telling me he loved me before I left for the Weapons Lab.
All of it is gone. Caleb is gone. My wonderful, smart, kind brother. Gone.