So here I am again. Thank you for all the reads, reviews, faves and follows. They mean a lot!
Some much needed Tobias- Tris interaction in this chapter. And it turned out to be extra long! Hope you enjoy!
Sleep doesn't come easily to me that night. I keep feeling the cold water of the river against my back, and the images of Christina, hurt and bleeding, hanging on to the railing for dear life, haunts me. But finally, my surroundings dim, and I drift off.
I find myself at the entrance of the Bureau. Or rather, I can feel my presence; I can't see myself. I turn and look around. There is Cara, her face badly bruised. And Christina. And Tobias.
"What is it?" Tobias asks. I am confused myself, I'd like to know it too. Cara's expression is troubled. No, it's devastated.
She simply shakes her head to his question.
"Where is Tris?"
I'm here! I want to say, but I can't speak at all.
"I'm sorry, Tobias."
"Sorry about what?" Christina says roughly. "Tell us what happened!"
"Tris went into the Weapons Lab instead of Caleb," Cara says. "She survived the death serum, and set off the memory serum, but she . . . she was shot. And she didn't survive. I'm so sorry."
I blink. What? So is this...
Cara hugs Christina as she breaks down. But all I see is Tobias. His expression is impossible to describe, as one by one, the emotions slips in — shock, disbelief, realization, grief, heartbreak. And at that moment, I feel it all. It is as if my being has melded in with him, and everything he feels, I do too. And God, it is unbearable. I feel myself being crushed under Tobias' grief, and he just stands and stands, like he will never move again.
I see him walking through corridors, his movements robotic, until he reaches a room. And there I am, on the table. It is so strange, looking at your own dead body. But I don't really feel it; I feel what Tobias feels, and I hope to whatever force works up there that no one has to feel something like this. He holds my hand, my corpse's, that is, for a long time, desperation in those deep blue eyes. And then, something in their depth cracks, and he sinks to the floor, sobs wracking his frame. And as he cries, I break. Into a thousand pieces.
The scene changes. I am still reeling from the pain, which hasn't gone away one bit. It's not a physical pain, but emotional, and yet it is so intense that I feel it under my skin. I find myself in Tobias' bedroom in Marcus' house. Tobias stands in front of the mirror, shearing his hair short. Or rather, someone who looks like Tobias. The person in front of the mirror is only a ghost of the boy I love. He is dreadfully pale, thin, with dark circles under his eyes. But worst of all, he looks lost. Defeated. The burning fire, the sharp blade, the soldier, the instructor, the passionate lover, Four, he is all gone. My heart feels like it is being slowly ripped in two; is this what I did to him? I want to run up to him, hold him, tell him that it's okay, I'm here, but I can't move. I am nobody. A mere spectator.
Even as I watch, Tobias pulls out a vial from his pocket. I recognize it easily enough; it is the memory serum. I wait for him to..I don't know, throw it away, maybe, but instead, he lifts it towards his mouth.
NO! What is he trying to do? Does he want to forget everything? What he is, what he has, what he lost... his past, his life, his friends, me? And worst of all — himself? I try to rush forward to take the vial from him, but I can't move, I can't...
Why is he doing this? This is not the man I love. Did I commit such a grave crime by dying, that he wants to forget me, forever?
The vial is inches from his face. No no no no no...
TOBIAS, NO!
I wake up with a gasp, only to find the room dark. My eyes are wet, my heart hammering. I stare around wildly, hoping something to calm me down, but no divine intervention happens. Grief crushes my heart until I feel like I can't breathe. The dormitory is stifling. All around, I hear the sound of deep breathing. I need to get out. I stumble out of bed, swaying. Need to get away.
I walk blindly till I find myself in the Pit, by the Chasm, holding the railing by which I had been hanging only hours ago. And I can't hold back anymore; I sink on to my knees, sobbing my heart out. What am I crying for? I don't know. All I know is that I can feel Tobias' grief in my bones, and at that moment, I hate myself for leaving him, for dying. And I hate him for taking the coward's way out. Did he really do this? If I died,would he really be so broken that he will want to forget it all? I can't believe it. It doesn't matter to me at that moment that none of it has happened yet; I can't even think straight, I can't think about anything. I just cry.
"Tris? What is it?" Someone speaks behind me. I swivel around, surprised; I hadn't even heard someone come up.
I find myself inches from those beautiful blue eyes.
Oh. Tobias.
Looking at him brings a fresh onslaught of tears. My emotions swirl in a tumultuous cyclone, breaking through. Relief at seeing him, whole, bright and brilliant. Grief at what he has been through in my past, what he may be through in his future. And a sense of betrayal, fear and blank uncertainty. Tobias' alarmed expression would have been amusing had it not been for my current condition.
"What happened? Tris, what's wrong?"
But I can't answer. Not only am I in a condition where I am unable to form a coherent thought, how can I possibly tell that it is his heartbreak which my death caused that is making me cry? It wouldn't even make sense even if I trusted him with the information.
Tobias gives up on trying to get information, and sinks down to the floor beside me.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, Tris, shhh." His voice is low and soothing. He opens his arms to me, squatting on the floor, and unthinkingly, I shift closer to him, so that my head rests on his chest. It feels so wonderful, his touch a healing balm to the pain his own grief caused me, and in his arms, I finally feel whole again.
He holds me against his hard chest, rocking me in his arms, and I lose all sense of time, slowly drifting off to sleep.
-o0o-
I wake up in the dormitory. It takes me a moment to figure out where I am, and how, and what happened the previous night, and also, why that familiar minty, slightly sweaty, wonderful smell which I have learnt to associate with Tobias is all around me.
I remember it all soon enough — me being a blubbering mess and Tobias comforting me, and my heart swells. And as to the last question — Tobias' black Dauntless jacket is draped over me, warming me over my thin black nightdress.
I have another reason for my happiness; later that night, I had another dream. Tobias was at the top of the Hancock building with Zeke and our other Dauntless friends.
He looks down at the zip line, his body stiff with tension. I raise my eyebrows in shock; Tobias is zip lining? What could have induced him to confront his fear, voluntarily?
"I don't think I can do this," Tobias says. His voice is steady, normal, but his body trembles.
"Of course you can do it," Zeke cheers. I notice that the marks of grief under their eyes are present, though much diminished. I wonder how far after the day of mu this is. "You are Four, Dauntless legend! You can face anything."
Tobias edges closer to the edge of the roof, but his expression is still full of trepidation. Zeke walks over to him and places his hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," he says gently. "This isn't about you, remember? It's about her. Doing something she would have liked to do, something she would have been proud of you for doing. Right?"
She? Who is this she? Did he get someone — oh, me.
My insides melt as I see Tobias' jaw harden and his stance become resolute. He is doing this for me?
"How did she get in?" Tobias asks.
"Face-first," Zeke says.
"All right." He hands him an urn, which presumably contains my ashes. "Put this behind me, okay? And open up the top." I feel myself glow with my love for him. Oh, Tobias. He is overcoming his fear to do this, just because I'd have loved him to.
And then Zeke pushes him, and as Tobias goes soaring down, I fly with him, together, one and the same.
Smiling to myself, I carefully fold Tobias' jacket and put it under my pillow. Tobias didn't take the serum after all. He never forgot me. My smile sticks as I walk to the bathroom.
But when I come out of the girls' bathroom, fresh from the shower, there is reason enough for the smile to slip right off my face. The word "Stiff" is spray-painted across my mattress in red. The word is written smaller along the bed frame, and again on my pillow. I look around, my heart pounding with anger. Not again. But of course it's there, because it's 'again' only for me.
Peter stands behind me, smirking while fluffing up his pillow.
"Nice decorations," he comments. He looks so unbelievably infuriating, what with his innocent looks that could deceive anyone. But not me.
My fist swings out, colliding with his nose. Unprepared, Peter falls, to the floor with a yelp, clutching his nose.
"Dot bery Abdegatiod of do, hittig out like dat," he mumbles through his nose bleeding nose. I glare at him; some audacity he has, making smartass comments with a broken nose.
"Maybe that would teach you not to judge others by their former factions," I growl. "Remember, we are in the same faction now."
"Doat do what do are talkig about," he says, "Do ad I will deber be id the sabe factiob." And he stumbles out of the dormitory.
I proceed to remove my pillowcase from my pillow. Al walks in, and even without my asking for help, he takes the bedsheet off the bed.
"He's an idiot," Al says as we work together, "and if you don't get angry, he'll stop eventually."
"Yeah," I murmur. "But I already did." Al looks at me at the tone of my voice.
"What did you do?"
"I punched him in the nose," I say. "And probably broke his nose." My cheeks are still hot with an angry blush.
Al laughs. "Really? Wow, Tris! You are something else."
I blush. "Thanks Al."
"Did you talk to Will?" I ask quietly. "After…you know." I want to change the subject. Something away from me.
"Yeah. He's fine. He isn't angry." Al sighs. "Now I'll always be remembered as the first guy who knocked someone out cold."
"There are worse ways to be remembered. At least they won't antagonize you." I can't hate Al now, not anymore. I only feel sorry for he. He could have been better, can be better, if he learns understand himself, his strengths and weaknesses. But whatever he is, he is not a bad person.
"There are better ways too." He nudges me with his elbow, smiling. "First jumper. Also, you hung from the railing with Christina. That was really brave."
We have been walking together towards the training room. I clear my throat. "One of you had to get knocked out, you know. If it hadn't been him, it would have been you." He needs to understand that refusing to hurt anyone is not going to help him at all.
"Still, I don't want to do it again." Al shakes his head, so fast and so many times that I imagine him as a bear trying to deflect flies. He sniffs. "I really don't."
We reach the door to the training room and I say, "But you have to."
But nothing I say is going to help him; it didn't last time, and I haven't been saying things any better than the last time. I purse my lips. I have to try. I can't hate Al, his innocence does not allow it, and my memories prevent him from really liking him as much as last time. But I know this much — I don't want him dead, and I'll save him if I can do anything about it. Can I?
I stare at the chalkboard after we have entered the training room. My opponent is Peter.
Of course. How could I have forgotten?
I see him standing in a corner with Drew and Molly. He got something done on his nose, but it is still swollen and dark. The sight makes me feel a wicked sense of satisfaction. But even that is not enough to ease my discomfort. The memory of my fight with Peter is fresh on my memory; it was terrible. His repeated blows, my struggle to stay on my feet, the way the room seemed to be spinning. It was so totally humiliating. As of now, I have better experience and knowledge of my strengths and weaknesses, but Peter is still way too tall and strong from me. A drop of sweat rubs down my back. I hope my nervousness doesn't show.
Christina shuffles in, and I feel a rush of sympathy as I see her bruises. She looks like she is trying not to limp.
"Are they serious? They're really going to make you fight him?" she says, gaping at the board. Her eyes stray to Peter. "What's up with his nose?"
"Tris punched him," Al informs her, shuffling close to us.
"Wow! You rule, girl!" Christina laughs, thumping me in the back.
"Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious," suggests Al. "No one would blame you." "Yeah," I say. "Maybe." I hate how I have come back to where everyone thinks I'm a weak, soft little girl. After everything I have been through, I will have to prove myself yet again.
I spend the time of Edward and Molly's fight in trying to figure out Peter's weaknesses. But I really can't find any. I recall the match between Edward and him which will happen if I lose, but it was just a clash of strength more than strategy. I will never be able to fight the way Edward does. By the time my turn comes, I am no better off than what I was fifteen minutes ago.
"Had fun going at me in the morning?" Peter sneers once we are both in the center. "You had better. Because you are going to regret it."
I press my lips together, not replying.
Last time, I had tried to carry out the first strike, and it had not gone well. So I wait, knowing that Eric will run out of patience soon. Sure enough, his snap comes within thirty seconds.
"You two having a good time there? Want to hang out all day?"
A dangerous glint comes into Peter's eyes. His fist moves towards me almost too fast to see, but I manage to dodge in the last second. His fist lashes out again, and again, and again. I duck, dodge, left, right. Peter growls in frustration.
"Going to keep running away, Stiff?" he taunts. "Wait, you aren't afraid, are you?"
I grit my teeth. Patience. Seek out your chance.
Peter tries to kick me next, and moving out of the way, I shift to the side, ramming my fist into his gut. He stumbles back, groaning. I take my chance to punch him again, a couple of times, then kick him.
Think of your times of strength. You can do this.
Climbing the Ferris wheel. A punch. Shooting Eric. Another. Stabbing Eric. A kick. Surviving the death serum. A dig with my elbow.
Just when I think that I am doing well, and Peter just keeps backing away, he lands a resounding punch on my ear. I stumble back, and he uses his chance to kick me hard, sending me to the floor.
On your feet, is all that I allow myself to think. I manage it, but my vision is unsteady. I have lost my advantage. With a scream of frustration, I send a punch towards his jaw, satisfied when my fist meets flesh. But before I can blink, he hits me again, sending me sprawling.
The rest of the fight becomes unclear to me. All I can think is the chant of On your feet and Fight, and confusion at why the room has started spinning again in that most unwelcomingly familiar way. I wonder where Tobias is. I hope he hasn't left again. Or maybe it's better if he has. I don't know. I don't know anything. My vision is fuzzy, and I just keep raining blows blindly, sometimes having them blocked, other times with them hitting home. I can't even think who I am fighting anymore, or why the fight is important, but I just know that I can't fall. But then a kick sends me sprawling to the floor, and even that train of thought goes to hell.
"Enough!" someone shouts. Through the cloud of swiftly overtaking unconsciousness, I recognize the voice. It's Tobias.
I smile, or would have smiled, had I been able to feel my face at all beneath all that pain.
-o0o-
"Is she planning on waking up anytime soon?"
I open my eyes to my find myself in the infirmary. And I know my fight with Peter didn't go as bad as last time; I can open both my eyes.
Will, Christina and Al are sitting at the foot of my bed, Christina rubbing an ice pack to the side of her face.
"Finally, Sleeping Beauty," Will grins. "I was wondering if I would have to warm your bed tonight."
I mock scowl at him, before looking at Christina.
"What happened to your face?"
Christina laughs. "Look who's talking. I don't think I'll need to work my makeup on you for a week; it's colorful enough."
"At least I didn't get a black eye this time," I laugh, and then bite my tongue. I hope they don't notice my reference to 'this time'.
"It would have warranted the need for less eye shadow," Will informs me cheekily. "And to answer your question, I beat her up."
"I can't believe you couldn't beat Will, Christina," Al says, shaking his head.
"What? He's good," she says, shrugging. "Plus, I think I've finaly learned how to stop losing. I just need to stop people from punching me in the jaw."
"You know, you'd think you would have figured that out already." Will winks at her. "Now I know why you aren't Erudite. Not too bright, are you?"
"Besides, not everyone is as good as Tris," Al says, taking me by surprise.
"What are you talking about? I lost."
"Yeah, but you managed to put Peter in the infirmary," Christina says. "Congrats on that."
"What?" This is news.
"You beat the bloke up pretty badly when you could get at him," Will adds. "Eric thought he needed a visit too. Peter made a fuss, of course. Must have been a massive blow to his enormous ego, being sent to the hospital by a little Stiff girl. You're hardy, Tris." He grins. "Looks like you won't need that nipple piercing after all."
My arm aches, but ignoring it, I lean forward and swat him hard on the arm.
"Ow, hey, just joking," Will grumbles.
"Four seemed to be very amused at Peter's tantrum," Christina comments with a grin.
"Do you know — did he watch my fight?"
"Is someone interested?" Christina waggles her eyebrows. Out of the corners of my eyes, I see Al's face darken.
I blush. "No, I —"
"He was around for most of the fight," Will says. "He left towards the last part, once you started getting beaten up. He came back in the end. It was he who called off the fight."
I nod. Just hearing about Tobias fills me with this delightful warm feeling.
When Christina and Will get up to leave, Al waves them ahead.
"I just wanted to tell you that you missed Eric's announcement. We're going on a field trip tomorrow, to the fence, to learn about Dauntless jobs," he says. "We have to be at the train by eight fifteen."
"Good," I say. "Thanks."
"And don't pay attention to Christina. Your face doesn't look that bad." He smiles a little. "I mean, it looks good. It always looks good. I mean—you look brave. Dauntless."
I smile at Al, but I feel uncomfortable; I have no feelings for him at all, and I don't want to lead him on. Maybe I should keep him at a distance.
"Al," I say quickly, before he turns to leave and it becomes necessary to initiate contact, "is it getting any easier? The initiation, the fights?"
I know it is not. He tells me so, how he lost all the fights after Will.
"Listen Al, you know you are losing on purpose, don't you? If you want, you can beat anyone, maybe even Edward. All you have to do is try." I try to bring back his morale. But he only shakes his head.
"I know, Tris, but I... don't want to. I am not like the rest of you. I can't do this. Fighting each other, it's brutal."
"I know," I say, "but it is also necessary. Fighting is not only about hurting others, it's about defending yourself and the ones you love. If you don't get over it, you can't do anything."
Al nods, but his demeanor makes it clear that he is not convinced. He mumbles an awkward goodbye and leaves.
I rub my forehead, frustrated. It seems that the only good I have been doing with my knowledge of the future is in improving my own skills. I punch my pillow in anger. Pathetic, Tris!
When it's night, I slip out of my bed to sneak into my dormitory. I won't have Peter put me in the infirmary overnight. This time, my injuries feel much better; they aren't that numerous and don't hurt as much. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that I did better this time. But I was it the right thing to do? I couldn't just sit and let him beat me up. But for someone was small as me, this is not a natural achievement. And indeed it isn't. It is the result of knowing what is to come, the result of having done it all once before.
I sigh in frustration. My constant need to prove myself to me clashes with my act of being an Abnegation transfer. If I am not careful, I will blow my cover.
As I reach the door of the infirmary, I slam heavily into someone coming from the same direction as me. My bruised muscles groan in protest. I reel back, squinting in the dark — it's Peter. Even in the dim light, I can see his injuries, and I glow with satisfaction. Serve you right.
"Stiff," he sneers. "Isn't someone as broken up as you supposed to be strapped in bed in there?"
"Is someone being a sissy here?" I retort. "Sneaking out in the dead of night? Hurt your pride, did I?"
"You're one to speak! Aren't you doing the same thing?"
And then I can't help it; it suddenly dawns on me how we are both up to the same thing here, running away to save our pride. I burst into laughter. He looks at me strangely for some time, and then he too starts laughing.
I climb into my dormitory bed with a smile. Peter's still a jerk, and I still hate him, but that aside, it felt good to laugh.
-o0o-
I am woken up with Christina shaking my shoulder. As my drowsiness clears, I remember why we are supposed to be up so early. The field trip.
This time, unfortunately, I didn't sleep in my clothes, opting for the more comfortable bedclothes, having lost the stiff rules of Abnegation. So I have to run helter skelter, hunting out my black trousers, and putting them on. Speed is very difficult to achieve given my injuries from Peter's fight, and for now at least I am glad that I did better this time.
"Here, you can eat and walk, can't you?" Christina offers me a walnut muffin, and mumbling a thanks, I take it as we walk towards the Pit. Ah, it's so good. The Dauntless are amazing with their confectionary.
We start running from the Pit. I can hear the train horns as we reach the tracks; we made in just in time. As I grab the handle of the door, my muscles scream. I am still too hurt. But somehow, with my past experience and lessened injuries and a little help from Al, I manage it in.
Peter has to make comments about me again, of course, and Will and Christina defend me. I smile to myself a little; I am grateful to have such good friends.
Peter turns to retort to Christina's remark, and I tiredly say, "No one wants to hear what you want to say, Peter," at the exact same moment Tobias says, "Am I going to have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?"
He looks at me, and for a long moment, our eyes stay locked. I wish I knew what is going on behind those deep swirling blue eyes. My cheeks feel warm. I am the first to break my gaze.
As the train lurches on, I stare at Tobias leaning out of the train. He looks so young when he does that, his feet firmly planted on the floor but his head out, the wind ruffling his hair. I wish I could do that. I wish I could hold his hand, and we both could feel the wind on our faces as we looked out...
"Someone seems to be very interested in a certain someone," Christina whispers beside me, startling me our of my daydream. I pale; was I that obvious?
"Do you have a crush?" She waggles her eyebrows. I try very hard to contain myself, but my face lights up like a traffic light, giving me away. Traitor.
"You do, don't you? Ooh!" Christina almost looks maniacal in her delight. "Tris loooves F—"
"Shut it!" I hurriedly clamp my hand over her mouth. "Do you want everyone to hear?"
Tobias gives us a sharp look. I wonder what he made out of this. I cautiously remove my hands from Christina, giving her my best death glare. She snickers, but keeps her silence.
"I think you'll be good for each other, you know," she says when the train stops. And hops off before I have a chance to say anything.
Things go exactly like they did last time by the Fence, Tobias giving us a little guidance speech about the jobs. At the gate, we come face to face with some of the Amity, and someone calls my name. There he is — Robert.
As I talk to Robert, looking at his curly blonde hair and rosy cheeks, and his happy, relaxed demeanor, even as he expresses his concern at my injuries, I can see that he took the easy way out. The Amity live a simple, happy life. I remember our stay with them. This is not a life for me — subdued by the peace serum, too easygoing. But it is undeniable that there is a beauty in their style of life, in their equality and peace. Tobias has always loved it, and now, I realise its charms too.
Sometimes people just want to be happy, even if it's not real. Oh, Tobias. I understand you. How I wish we could have real happiness, for everyone. All the time.
Tobias moves towards me once Robert leaves.
"I am worried that you have a knack for making unwise decisions," he says when he's a foot away from me.
"It was a two-minute conversation," I reply defensively. Are you jealous?
"I don't think a smaller time frame makes it any less unwise." He furrows his eyebrows and touches my temple, which is where I am bruised instead of the eye. I close my eyes and savor the sensation of his cool fingers again my skin. "You fought better than I had expected."
I open my eyes, smiling shyly. "Thank you."
"You should keep up with the attack front," he says. "It will help."
I nod. His hand is still on my forehead; I have to repress this ridiculous urge to smile.
I look past him towards the direction of the Amity headquarters, and remember the time they gave me too much peace serum. How silly I had been. But it feels good to remember of those times. My times, with the boy before me, who has no idea how hard I am trying to not kiss him, right here, right now, like I want. I bite my lip to stop the giggle that threatens to escape me, and heat spreads on my face.
"What are you thinking?" Tobias asks quietly, curious. His hand trails down from face, along my jawline, before dropping. I shiver slightly.
"Nothing. Just some — nothing."
He looks at me strangely.
"What happened that night?" he asks, his brows furrowed. I want to kiss that little crease right in between. "By the Chasm, I mean."
I blush. "I'd rather not talk about it. Oh, I never returned your jacket!"
He laughs a little, and my stomach does a back flip. "By all means, keep it." Then his expression becomes serious. "Are you homesick?"
I stare. "What? No! I made my own choice. I am happy about it."
Tobias nods. "Then what made you cry?"
Earth, swallow me up now. I can't help wishing now he had never seen me in that moment of weakness. But inside, I know I don't; I needed him then. If he hadn't held me that night, I would have been broken. But this is so embarrassing.
"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."
Tobias looks at me sternly. "Tris —" But he is interrupted by the horn of the train. I have never been gladder of its arrival.
"Looks like the train is here," I say, clearing my throat. God, this is awkward. "Let's go."
How was it? I know Tris dreaming scenes after her death is completely illogical, but I couldn't resist! Please review and tell me what you think about this chapter. Did I do justice to the events?
A little note for you guys... My writing speed is about to slow down drastically, any day now. So please don't mind a little hang up in the middle. I'm not giving up on this fic. I have loads of exams coming up, keeping me busy until May. But anyway, I'll try my best to keep up my pace.
Meanwhile, tell me what you think about what Tris' new fears should be. I am still waiting for answers!
Until next time :)