The blunt pain of metal digging into my back is what initially wakes me up, but the humidity of the room is what drives me out of bed and into the shower. I leave my gun on the bed, grateful for the instant relief that floods me at not having the cold metal flush against my skin. Tobias was the one who advocated against handing all of our weapons to the Amity men during our stay, and despite my protests, I was the one who had to keep my gun. I kept it, safety on, in the back of my black jeans, and ultimately, in my exhaustion, forgot to place it elsewhere before I crashed onto the bed. The room I'm staying in is - as Johanna phrased it - the most accommodating because of the en suite bathroom, and if I'm being honest, I would rather not associate much with the Amity or the Abnegation who are staying here by visiting the bathroom at the end of the hall. Inevitable conflict is the only outcome possible from the mixing of Dauntless with the other "peace-keeping" factions.
I slide the shower curtain open, slipping under the cold spray of water, my body instinctively flinching away. If the water was warm like it is in Dauntless, I would've taken my time basking in the steam, but without the solar panels working, Amity's showers at night are something to be avoided. Washing quickly, I dry off and dress into a change of clothes Susan had handed me earlier. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Despite wearing a grey shirt, I'm so different than the Abnegation girl I used to be with my new haircut and my tattoos peeking from under the shirt. I leave out the red pants, opting to redress in my black jeans, and exit the bathroom.
The room is softly lit by moonlight, making it difficult to see anything other than mere outlines of furniture and objects. I sit on the mattress, willing myself to relax, but impossibly soon, any hopes of relaxation are replaced by live wires of tension buzzing through my body at the creak of my door. Without thinking, I grab the gun in my hands, despite how badly they're shaking, and point it at the door, only relaxing when I see Tobias slip in. My hands drop the gun with a loud clank, and I cringe, hoping the sound wasn't loud enough for everyone to hear. I don't only worry about that, though, because with Tobias' presence, the chances that we'll fight again are high, especially after our loud argument just before we went our separate ways to sleep. He had gotten mad when I asked him to keep the gun with him, and a small argument escalated into a full-on fight, leaving us parting ways with frowns etched on our faces.
"You shouldn't have gotten out your gun unless you had perceived an actual threat, especially since no one knows we have weapons," he notes.
I huff out a breath of air. "If you're here to scold me, I don't wanna hear it, Four."
"Don't call me Four," he says, a scowl dominating his features."And I'm just pointing out notes for you."
"Then, don't act like him! " I whisper harshly. One second he's scolding me like we're back in the training room, and the other he's trying to mend things with me.
"Tris." His voice is terse as he says my name; he's just as affected as I am by our seemingly endless arguments. "I don't want to fight with you. I'm here to tell you something important."
If I was another girl, I would've gotten mad because he didn't say he's here to mend the small crack in our relationship, but I know Tobias. He and I struggle with communication, but if he trusts me enough to share important information with me, it means he's trying to resolve conflict.
"Sure. Take a seat," I say, patting the space next to me on the mattress.
He takes my hands in his when he sits down, rubbing his thumb on my palm, his rough calluses a contrast to my softer skin. The rhythm is soothing, and for a moment, I forget about the war raging outside. I forget about the sharp comments we exchanged earlier because somehow the world has narrowed to the point where his hands meet mine. We don't talk for a long time, the only sounds resonating through the room being the chirping of crickets outside the window and our steady breaths. When Tobias finally breaks the silence, his voice is calm but still serious.
"Dauntless has split up. A big number of them followed Eric and Max, so they're siding with Jeanine right now. Another group followed Tori, and based on what I overheard from Marcus, they're split into two smaller groups: some with Tori in Candor headquarters and the rest with Harrison, who took shelter with the factionless."
"So, what's our next step?" I ask, my voice quiet unlike the frantic rhythm of my heart.
He grips my hand tighter, one of his own reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "We have to join with the rest of the Dauntless, combine forces and figure out Erudite's plan."
"Then, what? Attack?"
The thought of more innocent people dying is enough to send me pacing across the room. For several long moments, all I could hear in my mind is the word 'attack' replaying over and over until I thought I would scream. I'm also pretty sure I missed out on half of what Tobias is saying because by the time my mind has slowed down and I'm hearing again, he's saying something about the factionless.
"...with the factionless. Then, we'll have the adequate numbers to defeat the Erudite. We'll also try to find out more about Jeanine's plan, maybe insert one of the Dauntless into the traitors' group as a spy."
"How do we know whoever we send won't get killed?" I ask, my voice betraying me as a tremor works it way through my words.
"Tris." My name sounds tight in his throat, and I wonder if he knows how I'm feeling.
Before I recognize what's happening, Tobias stands up, winding his arms around me, hugging me close to his chest, and it's all I need to release the anguish that's been filling up every cell in my body. A few tears leak out, taking whatever control I have with them, and they're replaced by fat droplets that wrench sobs from deep within me. My hands clutch at the hem of his shirt, curling the fabric around my fists because he's the only thing I can hold onto now. I hide my face in his chest, letting the darkness consume me, and I can vaguely feel him leading us backwards where he sits us down on the edge of the bed, never releasing his iron grip on me. I don't know how long it takes until I quiet down, but the last thing I hear before sleep overtakes me is Tobias' deep voice whispering: "We'll be okay, Tris. I love you."
