So this is the scene where Four finds Tris being attacked by the chasm. enjoy!


I open my apartment door and lay her down on my bed. She looks horrible. A knot rest on the hairline of her forehead and her pale completion draws attention to her face, neck, and body.

I give her one last glace before I head back out. I have to take drew, the one I almost killed, to the infirmary. I wish it was peter. He obviously was the leader of the attack, but I couldn't catch him or go after him because I had to take care of her.

When I reach the chasm, the first thing I sense is blood. My vision is limited because of the lack of lights in dauntless, but I am very familiar with the smell of it. It is almost a metal scent, but mixed with something like bile.

I find drew and pick him up. His eyes flutter open as his red hair shines in the dark like a torch. "Why did you do that?" I growl. My voice is almost a whisper, but I mastered the intimidating low tone my first year here. It was one of the many things I adopted from my initiation instructor, Amar.

Drew doesn't respond, but gives off a low groan.

I shake him fiercely, my eyes like daggers. "Why did you do that?" the volume of my voice raising with each word.

"Trying to scare her." he mumbles, his eyes closing. "Peter took it too far." He coughs and blood gurgles from his mouth onto his shirt.

I bite my lip. It takes every ounce of self-control for me not to drop drew where he is, march into the transfer dorms and beat Peter to a bloody pulp.

I tighten my grip on drew and trudge into the infirmary. The nurse looks at me expectantly, but I just let drew on the ground by feet and walk away.


When I enter my apartment, she is still asleep. I decide to take a better look at her injuries. Or that's what I'm calling it. But I can't lie to myself and say it's not an excuse to touch her every chance I get.

I lift her shirt, but not past the top of her stomach. A large bruise has already managed to cover the entire right side of her rips. I pinch my lips together press on each one. They don't appear to be broken, just severely beaten.

I pull her shirt back down and make my way into the bathroom. My hands look bad. Bruised, bloody, and swollen.

My father's hands.

I turn on the faucet and start to wash my knuckles. I ignore the pain and sting as the soap enters the cuts. I refuse to look into the mirror. Because if I do, I will see Marcus.

When I'm finished, I turn off the sink, dry my hands, and make my way back to the bed. She's awake. And her gray eyes meet mine, vibrant as ever.

"Your hands." She rasps, voice barely audible.

I rest my knee beside her and slip the ice pack behind her head, "my hands are none of your concern."

Her hands twitches and she lifts it. It hovers in the space near my lips. My stomach tightens. I feel her cold fingers touch the cut on my mouth. "Tris," I say. And it is like an awakening. It is the first time I have truly acknowledged her presence here. It makes it real. "I'm all right"

She lets her hand drop, "why were you there?"

"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream." Your scream.

Her eyes skirt mine, "what did you do to them?"

I inhale, "I deposited Drew at the infirmary. Peter and Al ran. Dew claimed they were just trying to scare you." I think of the bloody cough, "at least that's what he was trying to say."

"He's in bad shape?"

I purse my lips, "he'll live. In what condition, I can't say."

I start to feel guilty about my actions. What I did was a result of pure rage and anger, I can hardly recall the events of the fight. Is this what my father felt? Did he just get so mad that he couldn't think of anything but the reason he was angry? Is that why the next morning he would become a normal father, the monstrous part of him forgotten entirely?

I start to pull away, ashamed. But her grip tightens on my arm, "good." Her voice is tight and sharp, fierce.

I smile to myself. She understands that she needs to be angry. She needs to fight back. I look and see if her face matches her words. They don't. She's crying.

I lean my face over hers and watch the tears spill down her cheeks. I don't feel bad for her, but I do cup my hand on the side of her face and skim my hand idly on her cheekbone.

"I could report this." I say.

"no." she states, "I don't want them to think I'm scared."

I nod and keep rubbing her cheek, "I figured you would say that."

"You think it would be a bad idea if I sat up?" she asks.

Yes. "I'll help you."

I grip her shoulder with one hand and hold her head steady with the other. She bites her lip, stifling a groan.

I hand her the ice pack, "you can let yourself be in pain. It's just me here."

She starts to cry again, silently. I don't say anything about the tears spilling down my cheeks. She doesn't either.

"I suggest you rely on your transfer friends to protect you from now on." I say.

"I thought I was," she mumbles. "But Al…" she starts to cry again.

I curse myself silently. Stupid. "He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation." I say softly. "He hurt you because your strength made him feel weak. No other reason."

She nods, but I can tell she doesn't believe me.

"The others won't be as jealous if you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real." I add.

She raises an eyebrow. "You think I have to pretend to be vulnerable?"

"Yes, I do." I take the ice pack from her. Our fingers brush as she pulls her hand away. I stand and feel her eyes on the hem of my t-shirt.

I have admitted to myself that I like Tris before. But here, now, the sight of her makes me dizzy. I don't understand, I have denied others the knowledge of my Abnegation life for two years. But she is different. She makes me want to open up about everything and protect her and kiss her and frighten her all at the same time.

I cough nervously, "you're going to want to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you. But you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down."

Her mouth twist and I already no she is going to disagree. "I don't think I can do that." her eyes lift up to mine.

"You have to."

"I don't think you get it." Her cheeks redden and she looks away. "They touched me."

I tense, my hand tightening around the ice pack. "Touched you." I repeat, disgusted.

"Not… in the way you're thinking." She adds awkwardly, "but… almost."

I stay quiet for a long time. I hate peter. I hate him. The only other person I hate on this planet is my father. What kind of sick person tries to rape and kill their competition? It's sick. Sick and evil.

"What is it?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"I don't want to say this, but I feel like it is more important for you to be safe than right for the time being. Understand?"

She nods.

"But please, when you see an opportunity…" I press my hand to her cheek and tilt her head up. Her eyes meet mine. "Ruin them."

She laughs. My stomach writhes at the airy sound. "You're a little scary, Four."

"Do me a favor," I say. This is the most open I have ever been with anyone, ever. "Don't call me that."

"What do I call you then?"

"Nothing," I take my hand from her face. "Yet."


if you have a preference on any moment out of the three books, Review!

-Riley