A/N: This was written months ago. I had almost every word in a word document, but I didn't put it up. I didn't because it didn't feel right yet. Tobias' voice wasn't sincere yet. Now it is. And this chapter isn't as long as the last one, but it captures everything it needed to. So, enjoy. Please review, I love it when you do!

Chapter 2- Tobias

Bravery is more than meets the eyes. It's about facing your fears, yes, but it's so much more than that. There is so much meaning in it. Bravery is about knowing when to give in because you aren't strong enough to win. It's about standing up after you fall.

I fell. I give up. I guess I'm not strong enough to take this. I guess that makes me brave.

Tris is still crying. Tears stream down her cheeks and soak my shirt. I press my hand to her head and my lips to her hair. It's the least I can do. It's all I can do, really.

When she falls asleep, I let go. I shake as my body shuts down. My muscle clench in fury and my eyes sting with tears. I'm not strong enough to take this.

I wish I could go back to a few hours ago. I looked forward to seeing her last night. She would be sitting at the table with everyone else, laughing of course. Her blonde hair would shake with fits of laughter. I could see the smile that lit up her face, defining every feature. I would walk up and slide into the customary chair next to her. She would turn to me. Her head still facing away, to answer the question directed her way. Then she'd turn to meet me. And for one second I'd get to look into her eyes. The light blue would be illuminated with energy. My lips would brush hers, but just for a second. We would kiss just enough to curb the craving that sparked through my body up when she was there. The kiss wouldn't be enough to satisfy, just enough to distract it. When we got back to the apartment, she would pull me in and kiss me for real.

She never came to dinner. I knew she might be late, because the Candor are always big negotiators. But something didn't feel right. I'm not really sure how I knew, nor what had happened. But something was off. When I got to my apartment, there was a call on the answering machine. Caleb always called on Fridays. I walked into the kitchen to get a beer when the phone started ringing. It never rang that late at night.

I honestly don't remember what the person calling said, or what they sounded like. Hell, I don't even remember if it was a boy or girl. All I remember was my body instantly moving toward the door. I ran. My heart was racing and my feet pounded against the ground. Within minutes I was in the infirmary. "Hey," I yelled. My voice was rough. I saw Christina walking toward me, she looked worried. That was what worried me.

"Where is she," I said impatiently. I could have asked nicely, or asked at all, but I wasn't in the mood for formalities. "She's fine," Christina soothed. "She's under heavy sedation, so don't expect her up for a while, but she'll be fine." That was the best news I had heard all day.

So I sat. I waited in the chair next to her bed, hoping she would wake up. I only left to go to the bathroom, and when Christina forced me to shower. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I reached across the rails separating us and grabbed her hand. My fingers brushed slow circles on her palm. I just waited, hoping she would wake. I couldn't stare at her anymore, it hurt too much. But my hand stayed connected to hers. After an hour I had to look back. She was staring at me. Her eyes were open and looking into mine. I almost couldn't believe it.

Later, the unthinkable happened. I spoke, the doctor spoke, but she screamed. The doctor rolled her away, without even a word to me. But I knew, how could I not? Especially with Tris' voice etching the words, "Why aren't you talking to me," into my mind. When Dr. Sears came back his head was hung. He started to speak soft and apologetic, but devastating words. Many of them blew right over me, I wasn't paying close attention. The only words that made an impression were permanently deaf.

My fingers continue to stroke her hair, long after she's fallen asleep. What happens now? Do I just leave her be? Do I still show her the black box in my back pocket? What does she want to do?

I didn't realize I had fallen asleep. Tris is still curled up next to me, the same way she likes to lay when we watch movies. Her head is resting against my collarbone and her knees are pulled up next to my lap. I carefully pull her off of me and stand up. My legs are stiff and my back pops as I stretch. How long was I asleep?

I don't want to leave, but I have to. I silently push the door open and step into the cold hallway. It turns left at the end and I can feel a draft coming in from that side. So I turn that way. My steps are brisk as I jog down the corridor. I pass a door and suddenly I freeze. No matter how hard I try I can't go any farther. I look behind me; I'm only fifteen feet from the door to Tris' room. I push against the mental barrier that stops me from leaving. I slump against the wall. Nothing is physically there, but it seems like a steel cable is connecting me to her room. It's connecting me to her.

I sit there slumped against the wall, feeling pretty sad for myself, until Christina comes. She pulls me up and hauls me into a room on the other side of Tris'.

She pushes me into the wall on the other side of the door. There is a bucket on the floor and a mop against the wall. The closet is small, so every word Christina whispers echoes endlessly against the sides.

Christina has her hand against my chest holding me to the wall. Sad tears threaten to start spilling over her eyelashes, while the angry tears already have. She looks at me with those menacing brown eyes and makes and odd gesture with her hand. It's a grasping motion at her shoulder, and then the hand pulls straight out from her body as her fingers made a fist.

I can feel the confusion painted on my face. I make the gesture with my hand, trying to make it feel smooth and normal. Christina turns to go back to work giving me a furious look as she does.

Suddenly she whips around and my cheek stings. Her hand was fast when it flashed, slapping me square in the face. "Get it together," she growled.

So I try. I walk out of the closet and back into her room. Propped up on the chair next to the bed, is the whiteboard. It's the one that will, at least for now, live with Tris. On it, in Christina's curvy script, is a message.

The whiteboard only says one word. Brave. It's so simple and powerful, that word resonates down to my core. I know she's right. I need to get it together. I need to be brave. For her.

Tris is still curled up on the bed, sleeping. She looks so small, so defeated. The normal defiant set of her shoulders slump into a hunch. She normally stands tall, making her small stature seem insignificant. She glares and scoffs at any suggestion that she thinks is just plain stupid. She can be blunt and obnoxious and sarcastic. And I love her for it.

Rubbing her eyes, Tris rolls over. She pushes against the bed, and winces as she struggles to get up. I press my palm against her shoulder and gently push her back down. Her nimble fingers touch the back of my hand, almost curious…or confused.

She looks up at me and gives me a glare that could cut through steel.

That's about all I can take, I smile. I also whisper words that she'll never hear. "I love you," I say.

She breaks her glare to grin and repeat back to me, "I love you too."

I casually move to the right side of the bed, the far side from the door, and take her hand.

She doesn't say anything else. I don't either. Really, neither of us really needs to say anything else.