"This is for your own good." My father swung his belt again. It struck me across my back, almost in the same place as the previous swing, making the assault hurt more than usual. I clutched the edge of the counter tighter to keep myself on my feet. I didn't cry nor did I make any sound other than a low groan. I knew better. If anyone outside our small Abnegation house heard what was happening, I'd be in even more trouble. Sometimes I wondered if my father might actually kill me. "I know you hate me now, but some day you'll understand. This will make you better." He hit me one last time as I clenched my teeth and tensed my entire body, preparing for the blow."

I let out a shaky breath after the sting of the leather strap spread through my right shoulder, not knowing how much more I could take. "Go get yourself cleaned up." My entire body rejoiced, with those few words. That meant I was free, at least for now, until I did something else that angered him enough to cause him to reach for one of his weapons. This time had been worse than others. I made the mistake of not putting the bread away after dinner last night. My father awoke, and found the stale loaf still sitting on the counter.

"If you ever waste food in my house again…"

"I promise I won't sir." I knew the words he expected. I'd even perfected my tone of voice.

"Good boy. I'm proud of you son. Some day you will teach your own children these same lessons."

I sat up in a cold sweat and tried hard to swallow the lump in my throat. Tris lay beside me and I was happy I hadn't woken her up again. I swung my legs off the side of the bed and rested my elbows on my lap, holding my head up. This had been the third time this week. When Tris told me a few days ago that she was pregnant, I was so excited. We'd been trying for three months and finally our dream of becoming a whole family was coming true. But ever since, my past has haunted me in my dreams.

I didn't know how to be a father. The only lesson I learned from my father was how to rule with fear. I didn't want my child to be afraid of me, nor did I ever want to hurt them, but something in the back of my head told me I'd never be able to keep those promises. I'd learned how to be a monster. I learned it from my father. Like it or not, he made me what I was today. He taught me how to be Dauntless, long before I left Abnegation. I learned about fear and how to control it to prevent an even worse scenario. I learned how to be brave, to accept the punishments I thought I'd deserved at the time. I learned about violence, and what a powerful tool it can be against ones foes. And, the part of me I disliked the most, I learned how to hate.

I sat in the darkness a few moments longer, allowing my breathing to slow and my trembling to stop. I was wide awake now, and I was great full for it. Every time I close my eyes to sleep, he's there again, and I don't have it in me to fact him again tonight.

I decide to head to the gym for an early morning workout. I had to let out some of this bottled up aggression before I took it out on the wrong person. I slipped into a pair of black cargo pants and a black T-shirt and headed for the pit.

All of Dauntless was silent. It was too late for even the wildest parties to still be going yet it was too early for even the early birds to be up and about. I silently made my way to the gym and immediately made my way over to a hanging punching bag.

I started my usual training routine, hitting the bag with different punches and kicks. Keeping up the pace and order that had been ingrained in my body since I was an initiate. But it wasn't enough. The more I hit the bag, the more I needed to. Each swing coming quicker and stronger than the last until the stitching gave way under my fist and a steady stream of sand leaked out the hole, draining the bag slowly.

I let out a low grunt and moved over to the next bag to continue my assault. I hit the bag, with all the anger I felt until the emotion overpowered me. I was running on autopilot now as the background blurred away. My surroundings became my home in Abnegation and my father's face appeared on the target in front of me. I hit him everywhere, just like he did to me, but he didn't seem phased in the least.

I tiny voice in the back of my brain called out to me. "Four? Four, are you okay?"

It was her voice, the only thing that kept me from falling over the edge. She was behind me, and my father had noticed her two. He wanted to make her his new target, just to hurt me more than he already had. I refused to let him. I'd die before I let him hurt my Tris.

I pounded the bag, harder as I searched my father's expression for some sign that I was winning this battle, but none came. The voice came closer. "Four, do you want to talk?"

Marcus' face turned up in an evil grin. "This is for your own good. It will make you better." He tried to push past me, to get to her, but I prevented his advances with my fists.

"Four?" The voice was close enough to touch now. Why was she coming closer? Couldn't she see how dangerous he was? Doesn't she know what he will do to her if she comes within arm's length? I won't let him hurt her. I'll kill him first. I will kill him to protect her. To protect our unborn child.

I pull my fist back up by the side of my head, behind my ear. I'm ready to break him with one punch. I start to throw my fist forward when suddenly she steps between us. "Tobias."

I have to change the course of my fist to avoid hitting her. My arm flies past her head on the left and the momentum behind the thrust yanks me to the floor at her feet.

The fog in my head clears in the fraction of a second, and I'm no longer in Abnegation. My father is once again a worn down punching bag and Tris is kneeling beside me, rubbing my back as she speaks softly. Only she can pull me out of the darkness like this. Anyone else would have ended up with a fractured skull for making such an insane move.

"Did you have that dream again?"

My breathing is hard and comes in short busts through my nose like an angry bull.

Her hands reach for my face and wipe the wetness off my cheeks. "Tobias. You're not him. You would never hurt us." She places my hand on her slightly bloated abdomen as my eyes focus on hers. "Marcus is gone. He can't ever hurt us again." She pulls my head against her chest, wrapping her arms around my head. I close my eyes and listen to her heart beat that is now inches away from my ear. It's strong and steady, not elevated in the least. How did she know I'd come out of it before striking her? How is heart not pounding in her chest at the near miss?

As if she can hear my thoughts she answers. "I trust you. I trust you with my life and with our baby's. You will be an amazing father."

I pull away from her body, a movement that is almost physically painful. I look into her eyes and she can see the fear in mine. "How do you know?"

"I just do." She pulls me back against her and I close my eyes again. I picture our baby in my mind. A little girl with honey blonde hair and blue eyes. She looks just like Tris and I'm lost forever with just one smile.

"I think it's going to be a girl," I say. The image bringing a smile to my face.

"It doesn't matter what it is. Our baby will make us whole, and teach you what a father's love is supposed to feel like. You'll see."

My body relaxes in her embrace and a warmth is delivered to me with her words. "I can't wait," I reply and it's the truth. With Tris by my side, I can do anything. Becoming a father to her child being the most important and meaningful thing I will ever do with my life.