Chapter 1: Prior Changes

Six Months before Tobias's Choosing Ceremony (Early December)

Beatrice POV

I have been to my share of Abnegation funerals, they are all the same: simple, no large expression of emotions and most important - - very somber. A funeral must be a solemn occasion. Everyone gathers to support the deceased's family, and no one has idle hands. This one is no different.

There is no laughter, or shouting, or joking, which suits me just fine, as I am overcome with my own grief. I glance at my mother, driven by a strong desire to watch over her and make sure she is well. And at the same time it pains me to look at her. In just days she has become a shell of the woman she used to be. She is still here, I remind myself. She is still here with me.

I can't fault her; losing your husband and only son on the same day is something no woman should ever have to endure.

My father and Caleb died three days ago.

Every time I let my guard down, every time I let my mind wander, my last moments with my father and brother replay in my mind, tormenting me with my grief.

++o++

Father stops next to me, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "Get lots of rest, Beatrice," he says gently. "I hope you are feeling better when I get home tonight. I love you."

"Bye, Beatrice," Caleb calls, his hand already on the door handle.

I lift my head off the table and wave at them both. "Goodbye, Dad, goodbye, Caleb. I love you both. See you tonight."

++o++

But I did not see them that night. Instead, my mother woke me from my sleep just a few hours later, as I was sick and she had sent me to my room to rest. I still remember how her shaking hands touched my shoulder and side. For a moment I thought she was being playful and trying to tickle me, which in itself would be strange as that is a form of affection I have only seen the Dauntless children do at school while joking around.

My mother could barely contain her tears; pale and shaking, she instructed me to be strong, that we only had each other now. When I asked her what she meant, her jaw trembled as she said the words.

My father and brother were dead, killed in a terrible bus accident that had happened just after they left the house. I was frozen, in that moment I felt nothing, I actually felt like I was nothing. As though the ground had opened and swallowed me whole.

As I opened my mouth to release the grief that was bubbling up in my chest, my mother broke down. Instead, I swallowed my sound, and watched in horror as she buried her face in her hands and screamed. I realized in that moment, my mother was unable to let go of her feelings until she was with me. She needed me to be strong.

And strong is what I am being now. My mother needs me now. She is all I have, and I am all she has, as well. I haven't cried yet. I am too tired to cry. One day I will, I know it will happen. But not today. My mother needs me to be strong today.

I glance at her. She is sitting in a chair by the closed caskets, her face stoic and still. The only movement is the tears that slowly fall down her cheeks. Even her neck is wet, as she has not bothered to lift her hand to wipe them away with the handkerchief she grips tightly in her fingers.

I walk over slowly, and bend to take the cloth out of her hand. I offer her my hand and wait; it takes her a moment to focus and take hold. I gently lead her to the small sitting room that is off to the side.

As she follows behind me, I politely nod to the adults that we pass. Mr. Black moves quickly to hold the door open for us, anticipating the direction in which we are heading. I thank him for his kindness and assure him we will just be a moment.

Mr. Black quietly closes the door behind us. I guide my mother sit for a few moments on the couch. As I am about to help wipe the tears off her neck and cheeks, there is a soft knock at the door. I frown, but quickly walk over to stand in front of the doorway, instinctively needing to block the visitor's view of the room. I brought Mother into this room so she could have privacy as she grieves. I sigh and wipe all expression from my face before I pull the door open. There stands Mrs. Black, holding a glass of water that she wanted to offer my mother. She hands it to me and then shuts the door behind her, as not to disturb us further.

In that moment, my stomach clenches with guilt. All of these people are here to support us, to show us that we are not alone, while all I want is for this dreaded event to end quickly. There is nothing anyone here can do that will help the emptiness I feel inside. There is no one here that is going to help me, to support my mother. That is not Mrs. Black's fault, she is being kind.

It is another reminder…I do not belong in Abnegation.

"Beatrice, please sit with me," my mother calls softly, her voice hoarse from crying. "Please."

I nod and sit next to her on the couch, my hands folded in my lap, my knee grazing hers. She takes a large sip of water, then closes her eyes for a moment.

"I am sorry, I feel as though I have failed you these days. I am your mother, and I should be supporting you…" she whispers.

It is the most I have heard her say in days; the only sounds coming out of her mouth have been sobs and moaning. I have never seen someone suffer the way that she has. At times I have needed to remind myself of who she is, of who I am.

Detaching myself from my emotions, from reality, almost, is the only way I have been able to function, the only way I have been able to be strong for her. And I will do it again now.

"Mom, I love you and I am here for you. I am ok. It is you I'm worried about. Please, have another sip of water," I say calmly as she accepts the glass again.

"You and me, we're in this together?" I prompt her. My heart suddenly fills with terror at the thought of her leaving me too. At the thought of being completely alone.

"I don't know how…I don't know what our life will be without your father's support. But yes, we will find a way to somehow survive. Thankfully the Abnegation faction will find a way for us to continue. I am with you. I will never leave you."

She talks slowly and quietly, I almost need to strain to hear her. She tells me that one day, she prays I will know a love as wonderful and pure as what she experienced with my father. I bite my cheek to keep my emotions at bay, afraid that if I make even one sound, my mom will disappear again into her grief.

She smiles at me and tells me the story of the day that Caleb and I were born. It is one that neither of our parents had ever shared with us. For a moment I am overwhelmed with terrible sadness that Caleb is not alive to hear it as well. Father will tell him, I tell myself. I have to believe that.

I listen with full attention on my mother as she tells me about the excitement and worry that she and my father felt, it was exhilarating. Caleb was born first, and she recounts how as she continued to labor with me, she was able to watch my father across the room holding and loving their son. The joy that it brought her, so much that she felt my entrance into the world was so smooth and joyous. All of her worry was gone.

Tears streaming down her face, "I am telling you this, Beatrice, because I want you to know the image I have in my mind. Caleb's father first held him when he entered this world. And the only peace I have... is that he held him when they both left."

She touches a cool hand to my cheek, and I smile. It is the first time she has shown me that she is still there, that she is still my mom. I need her just as much as she needs me.

"Momma, I've done ok? I just want to be strong for you," I whisper. I need to hear her say it. I need to know that I am enough. I know we are not whole, but I pray that I am enough for her. Enough for her to hold on, to hold on and stay with me.

"Yes," she says, her eyes bright with tears. "My dear child, you've done so well."

"What will we do now?" I choke on a sob as the image of my father and Caleb comes into my mind, of our family of four sitting around the table, the peace in the quiet that was always present, the love that I know my parents had. "What will we do without them?"

"You and me, we'll care for each other," she says. "That's what people do."

I smile at her and she pulls me into her arms. For the first time in days I close my eyes and go gladly into her embrace.


After we return to the main funeral I sit back and watch as my mother is approached by various adults. There is a long line that she is expected to greet and accept condolences from. It is custom in an Abnegation funeral that the children are present, but silent at all times. It was only my neighbors, Susan and Robert, that pulled me aside and privately wrapped their arms around me.

It was actually Robert that hugged both me and his sister tightly. Which is very unusual for an Abnegation boy to do; I am feeling oddly uncomfortable in general.

I remember in that moment…Susan and Caleb. How could I forget? How could I be so selfish? Moments like this, I realize that I am not cut out for Abnegation. Although now, I do not think it matters where I belong. I would never leave my mother completely alone in Abnegation. Was it just a few days ago that I sat on the roof, dreaming of Dauntless? Now, that night feels like it was a lifetime ago.

Robert offers his support to both me and his sister. He and I have been exchanging looks for the past year as Susan and Caleb flirted in the tentative way known only to the Abnegation. On numerous occasions I noticed the way Caleb's eyes followed Susan wherever she went. I'd have to grab his arm and startle him from his daze. In the beginning, Caleb would blush, the tips of his ears turning red. He would make a face or gesture to imply that it meant nothing.

But in recent weeks, he smiled at me and looked so genuinely happy. I wondered if he would be able to control himself until Susan finished her Abnegation initiation before he officially courted her. Waiting would have been required, and she would complete initiation one year after Caleb, Robert and I.

Susan has also lost something great today: her promise of a future with Caleb, or the possibility, at least.

I thank them and excuse myself. As I step away, looking over my shoulder, I take a moment to watch the brother and sister moment that they are sharing. I feel a stab of jealously. My brother is gone.

I need air, I need to think. I slip quietly through the gathering area and slowly climb up the stairs of the funeral home.

I look for a way to get to the roof.

As everything in Abnegation is uniform, I quickly find the fire escape out of the upstairs bathroom window, and I repeat my usual routine to pull myself up.

I think back to the night before our lives changed, and how I had climbed up to my favorite spot. It had been cold and the roof was covered in snow. That was how I got sick, and that is why I am still alive today. Had I been well enough to go to school, I would have been on that bus with my father and brother.

Today is different. It is as though the sky has opened to bless us with sunlight. Although it is December, the snow that had covered the roofs is now gone. All around me, the gray, concrete houses are alike: clear of snow, dry, just a chill in the air. I regret leaving my coat behind, but retrieving it would have called too much attention to myself.

I step toward the ledge- I want to see if there is snow sticking to the grass in the small front lawns. It dawns on me that in my haze, I have barely been aware of my physical surroundings.

"You aren't going to jump, are you?" a deep voice startles me so much that I gasp and whirl around.

My eyes landing on a young man. He is wearing Abnegation gray and for the briefest of moments I allow myself to pretend it is Caleb. He is coming to tell me that it was all a terrible mistake. They look about the same age and have a similar build…both tall, both wear the same clothing style- or would wear. As I take him in with my eyes, I realize I am not seeing this person standing in front of me. I am desperately looking for my twin brother.

But Caleb is gone, and he won't be coming back. My face falls and tears well in my eyes. I turn away and look out across the Abnegation community. my question is answered: there is a dusting of snow still present on the grassy areas.

Suddenly, two strong hands grip my shoulders, and I am gently guided away from the ledge.

"I promise, I was not going to jump," I mumble. "I just needed to see something. I'm ok."

Once we are away from the edge the hands slowly drop. I turn around to look at the young man on the roof with me.

As I had initially noticed, he is tall. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color.

For the first time in days I am no longer thinking of Caleb, Father, or even my mother.

He is handsome, but it is more than his good looks that holds my attention. He looks kind, his eyes genuinely look at me with concern. For the first time in a very long time, I feel as someone is really looking at me.

"It's cold," he says. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. "Please take my coat."

I stare into his eyes and nod in appreciation. He steps closer to me as his hands move to wrap the long grey coat around my shoulders. I notice that his hands tremble slightly.

As we are both Abnegation and unmarried, a closeness like this is unheard of. But right now, in this moment, I don't care.

I don't care about anything.

"Thank you. I...didn't think this through. I should have realized how cold it might be. I needed to get…away," I finish as I look back into his eyes.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, but he does not step away from me. Nor do I; if anything, I find myself leaning closer to him.

"Are you still cold?" he asks gently.

"No, to be honest…I don't feel anything. But I should be asking you that- now you don't have a coat," I say, frowning softly.

He continues to stare at me, and I am surprised to feel butterflies in my stomach. It is a feeling I have never experienced before, I have no idea what is happening.

I bite my lower lip and I see that his eyes shift to look at them. Before I can decide against it, my arm reached out from under his coat and I place my hand gently on his arm. His skin feels warm under my touch.

"Are you cold?" I repeat.

He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. "A little, but that's ok. I am more worried about you." His eyes leave my lips to look into mine.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine," I say. But my voice betrays me, the waver in my tone making it obvious that I am suffering. Heat swells behind my eyes as I think of my now broken family, my now broken life, and when I blink a tear slips out. His eyes immediately soften with concern.

I quickly turn my back to him and the hand that had touched his arm now covers my mouth as I desperately try to stifle a sob.

But it is too late. All the grief that I have stuffed away catches up to me and I am suddenly unable to control myself. I bury my face in my hands and sob, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably, a deep and ugly cry. I don't think I have ever cried this way, and the only other time I have seen someone cry this way my own mother.

Unexpectedly, I feel his strong arms wrap around me and I am pulled back into his chest. He is much taller than I am, but he leans down to bury his face in my neck. He is quiet but every so often he whispers to me, sometimes it is a simple sound, like a shhhh just to let me know he is here. He tells me that I will be ok, that it will all be ok.

It takes seconds for my emotions to shift. No longer devastated by sadness, I abruptly whirl around and I am instantly face to face with the young man, our faces only inches apart. We are breathing the same air.

His eyes widen, I caught him off guard. I grab onto the front of his sweater as I stare into his eyes. "No," I cry out, "things are not going to be ok!" Tears stream down my face, I am suddenly angry, not at him but at life. At my life. I want to scream, but I know that I can't. Abnegation don't do that sort of thing.

His eyes skirt to my lips and his hand quickly moves to cup my face. My anger is instantly replaced with another feeling; the shifts of my moods are almost dizzying. His lips part as his eyes lower to my lips. In that moment, I know what I need.

"My name is Beatrice. Beatrice Prior," I mumble to him.

His eyes meet mine, "I know, I'm Tobias Eaton. Um… it's nice to meet you."

I nod my head and then I stand on my toes in order to reach up and press my lips to his. Our eyes are both open, I have no idea what I am doing. I don't think Tobias does either. After a brief moment I pull back from him, in shock that I could ever be so bold. I fall back on my heels again and bite my lower lip nervously.

For a second his dark eyes are on mine, and he is quiet. I bite my lip. I am afraid of what he will say, I brace myself for his reaction. I imagine he will scold me for being so reckless and forward. So un-Abnegation.

Then he touches my face and leans in close, brushing my lips with his. As he presses his mouth to mine, I release my lower lip from between my teeth.

I tense up at first, unsure of what is happening. He pulls away and looks into my eyes, and I see nothing but kindness and warmth. I smile at him, the first smile I have made in days.

Tobias takes my face in his hands, his fingers strong against my skin, and kisses me again, firmer this time, more certain, both of our eyes now closing.

I am more certain, too. I move to stand on my toes again so I can lean into his kiss as I wrap an arm around him, sliding my hand up his neck and into his short hair.

As our closed-lips kisses continue I am suddenly aware that one of his hands leaves my face and travels around my waist to pull me even closer to him. He tucks his arm under his jacket so that I can feel the presence of his strong arm around me even more. I moan softly, which shocks me and I pull away, my eyes wide.

Tobias waits a moment before he tilts his head and begins kissing me more slowly. His lips parting with each kiss, I feel as though my heart is going to explode. As by instinct I tilt my head in the opposite direction and my lips part as well.

His tongue tentatively caresses my lower lip and I press myself as close to him as possible, I just want to feel him as much as possible.

"Beatrice," he moans before kissing me firmly, his tongue slipping into my mouth. We are both tentative at first, but then we both enjoy the feeling as my tongue joins in our dance.

Suddenly we hear voices, and we gasp and jump apart. It takes us a moment to realize that a family with unruly children have exited the funeral home. They are on the ground, unable to see us.

My heart is racing in my chest at the thought of someone catching us. What am I doing?

"I'm sorry!" we both blurt to each other. We are both flustered and shocked.

"I hope you can forgive me one day, what I did was inexcusable! You are grieving and in pain, I should not have kissed you…and so…well…um…so hard," Tobias rambles nervously.

"Tobias, I kissed you first. You probably think I am some kind of…I don't even know what the word would be for what you might think of me…" I say, my voice catching. This is terrible.

"No! I'm sorry, and you're sorry…let's just agree it was a one-time mistake. I forgive you, I hope that…"

"I already forgave you!" I blurt out.

He smiles at me, and I smile back. We promise that we will never ever tell a single soul about this moment. We also agree that we must both forget about it, and never think of it again.

After returning his coat I leave the roof first and make my way downstairs. No one has noticed my absence. I take a seat quietly at one side of the room.

Twenty minutes pass before I hear, "Tobias, there you are. Come here and pay your respects to Mrs. Prior before you need to leave."

It is Marcus Eaton, my father's peer calling his son over to speak with my mother. I shrink down in my seat, praying I am not noticed. I could not bear to stand near him, with our parents looking on. I'm convinced they would read the combination of shame and longing on my face.

The exchange is short and then I see that Marcus walks Tobias out of the front door. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I barely register that Marcus has returned to the funeral gathering and is standing firmly by my mother's side for the remainder of the evening.