A/N: Ugh... writing break-ups is so much easier than writing the process of getting back together, and this chapter is more set up for that than anything else. But hey! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the wonderful reception of the last chapter. I really didn't think it would be as well received as it was. I was glad to be proven wrong, and all those reviews were great motivation to get this chapter finished.

Tris closes the door to Uriah's apartment, breathing a sigh of relief that their schedules mean she doesn't have to see him morning, noon, and night. It's nice not living alone, but if he got off work at the same time she did he would hear her crying herself to sleep every night and that is something she would rather keep private.

Between the depression and the pregnancy hormones it took her weeks to confine her crying to just that, though she'll probably have to replace Uriah's pillows at some point since they're getting crusty in the constant deluge of salt water. But as long as no one talks to her about Tobias directly she can hold it together until she gets home, most of the time anyway. There's still gossip burning through Dauntless like wildfire, but in the weeks since Christina screamed at Tobias in front of everyone it's evolved into uncreative fiction, though she wishes it would stop entirely.

The baby isn't helping matters. The first trimester was unpleasant, certainly, between the exhaustion and morning sickness, but the second trimester is worse. She's still tired, and occasionally some scents will make her stomach churn, but mostly she in pain; swollen, tender, breasts; constant aches from her feet to her lower back that can't seem to be ignored or alleviated; and her balance is starting to slip, her body moving uncertainly with the weight she's gaining.

It all adds up and she feels like it's wearing her down. Tris isn't sure if she believes in God - religion was never a big part of her upbringing -, but as she slips between the blankets she prays for something good to happen, just one little going right so she can cling to it. But of course that just brings Tobias to the forefront of her thoughts.

'Hurt' and 'anger' seem too small to describe what she feels. She knows it's for the best that he hasn't tried to see her or talk to her since she left, clutches to the idea that a clean break is be better the drawn out back-and-forth they were doing. But it still hurts that he doesn't love her the way she loves him, because that's still a present tense, not past. It won't last forever, at some point they'll run into each other, but the thought that leaves her gasping and sobbing and balling her hands into fists is that happening after the baby is born, of maybe having to one day explain to him who his father is and that he wasn't wanted.

It used to be that when Tobias was feeling particularly masochistic he would go into his fear landscape. Since he is pretty much living it he has to find something else, and he has, sort of.

There's the drinking from the second he clocks out of the Control Room to the time the bars close, the hostile air of go fuck yourself he wears keeping the whispers around him, about him to a minimum. Then there's the fighting to drain out all that rage, transforming his pain into something he knows how to deal with. It doesn't even matter to him if he wins the fights or not; he's probably lost most of them, if he really thinks about it. None of that is really masochistic though, that's just what he does so he doesn't have to think about the shit storm he's turned his life into.

It's not until after that, until the time when he should be going home to Tris, when he should be wrapping himself around her and falling asleep that the torture really starts. He calls up the footage from the surveillance cameras dotted throughout Dauntless and though it doesn't exactly make him omniscient, he can watch Tris from the moment she steps out of Uriah's apartment in the morning until the moment she goes back to it at night on the recordings without too much interruption.

The pain it inflicts is so much sharper than the cuts and bruises mottling his skin. He likes to think that the cinching ache around his lungs has more to do with fractured ribs than actual feelings, but it's hard to ignore the way he can't breathe as all the moments she was his blossom into a field of memories while he watches her in grainy black and white. He feels like he's drowning, like he can't pull in a breath no matter how hard he tries, like his lungs are too weak or the air is too thick and all he can think about is Tris.

She isn't happy, he can see that, and sometimes that pleases a petulant side of him because he isn't happy either and it's comforting to know she gives a shit, but then he remembers what led to it and pain is fresh all over again. And as much as he tries not to he takes in every detail he can of her appearance, especially the way she can no longer hide the swell of her stomach, and they way she moves without her usual grace. He has moments of not hating the baby, of feeling a piercing pain in his sternum when he thinks about it now that he's not so angry.

In the quiet dark of his little hideaway he feels it infect every part of him, the loss and regret and desire; still, always, the desire to have her back. By the time he falls asleep slumped over his desk his eyes are swollen and red, cheeks wet and itchy, and the blood from his split lip has washed into the collar of his shirt.

Shauna knocks on the door of Tris' office before she lets herself in. It's not that she's unwelcome, but she knows in Tris' eyes she still carries the stigma of being Tobias' friend and not hers, no matter how angry she is with him. Christina smiles at her warmly, and Tris at least tries to.

"I brought you something," she says, plunking down a key on her desk. "New apartment opened up in the Pire. It's a two bedroom, so you'll have plenty of room."

The first time they had this conversation she let slip that if anyone should be moving it should be Tobias, but all that had accomplished was making Tris cry and then angrily declare that there was no way she was going back to that apartment whether Tobias was there or not.

Tris stares at it for a minute like it's something dangerous before gingerly picking it up and slipping it into her desk drawer. It's not that she doesn't understand the necessity of it, it's that a new apartment makes her separation from Tobias feel real and permanent in a way she's been avoiding. "Thank you," she says stiffly.

"Don't you have to get ready for a delivery?" Christina says, breaking the tense, awkward silence that has descended on them.

"Yeah, I-" Tris cuts off abruptly, hand flying to the swell of her belly, breath catching in her throat. There's a weird twisting sensation in her stomach. Or a swirling maybe, like water, but inside of her, and she can feel him. For a second the world just stops.

"Tris?"

"The baby... I felt him move," she whispers, awestruck. If the doctor hadn't warned her that she would start to feel the baby move at her last appointment she would have been panic stricken, but as it is it's the first time she's been truly happy since she left Tobias sprawled on their bedroom floor.

Tobias,

Shauna found me a new apartment. Christina and Michael will come a week from Thursday to move my belongings while you're at work.

-Tris

That little message of mass destruction sat in his inbox for nearly three days before he found it, too occupied with moving from morning to night and feeling as little as possible to care about checking his email. Tobias took one look at it and walked right out of the Control Room. He's been blowing off every leadership meeting since Tris left, so why not his other job too?

He hopped a train and took it all the way to the fence. For the first time since he met Tris he seriously considered leaving the city, just walking out the gate and never looking back. He even hooked his hands into the chainlink at one point, trying to force himself over it, but he couldn't do it. There were still pieces of him here, pieces that screamed in pain and revolted at the idea of being left behind, pieces of him that still belonged to Tris.

When he got back to Dauntless he walked straight to the bar and started drinking, trying to kill the hours until he could bleed out this fresh wave of pain.

"I don't think I like you much without her," Zeke says when he finds him.

"Me neither."

"Then why aren't you trying to get her back?" It's not the first time in the last few weeks Zeke has said those words to him.

"She's moving out." Tobias' voice sounds flat and dead even in his own ears, but that's not what he feels.

"I know."

Tobias' eyes snap to his, anger and pain flashing across them. "Thanks for the warning," he snaps.

"What did you think was going to happen? That she'd sleep on Uriah's couch for the rest of her life?"

"I thought she'd come home," Tobias spits back before he can stop himself. It's an honest answer and one he immediately regrets. He hates what it says about him, hates how weak it makes him even if it is the truth.

"Maybe if you gave her a reason to she would."

"I'm not the one who left."

"You're a fucking child," Zeke snaps. He loves Tobias like a brother, but that only goes so far. In the last three weeks he has watched him take a wrecking ball to his life. He's tried being supportive and understanding and patient, but with that one snotty comment Tobias has extinguished the last flicker of goodwill left for him.

"She doesn't want me, Zeke," Tobias all but shouts back.

"You've been jerking her around for months and now that she's gone you're treating her like she's the one who did something wrong," he shouts back. "She stuck it out as long as she could because she loves you, because she wants to have this baby with you."

They have the attention of the whole bar, but neither of them notice or care. "You want to know why she's moving out now? Because she felt the baby move for the first time and she realized he needed a home. A real one. Not my brother's shitty bachelor pad, and not some place her baby was so unwanted she was driven out."

Zeke snatches the full shot glass out from under Tobias' hand, draining it one before spitting his final barb at his best friend and walking out. "Get your shit together, Four, or you're going to be watching your kid grow up on video next." He knows that's a low blow, but it's far better than what he wanted to say, which was, 'maybe you're exactly like Marcus, maybe this was how it started for him too'. But as angry as Zeke is he would never be cruel, and he feels guilty for even thinking it.

By the time the bar closes the bottle of whiskey that started out full in front of Tobias is empty. For the first time since he was an initiate and broke Eric's face he truly lets go. Amar isn't there to pull him off his victim this time. This time it takes it three guys to pull him off the person who had the shit luck to get caught between his cross-hairs.

But for the first time since he saw Tris from the bottom of the Chasm he goes home. It feels like her ghost is lurking in the shadows, and when he lands face-down on the sheets they still faintly smell like her. And it breaks something inside of him. He screams into her pillow for so long he loses track of time, screams until his throat is torn to shreds and he has to scramble to the bathroom to heave into the toilet because even though he'd like to ignore Zeke's words he knows he did drive Tris from their home, just like the father he hates.

Tori is sitting behind her desk, glasses perched on her nose, sifting through papers. She's clearly a faction leader, and like all leaders the evidence of her burden is apparent. Her hair is streaked through with gray liberally now. She has lines on her face, and a general air of exhaustion. But her eyes are still sharp and keen, and she doesn't miss the way Tobias carefully lowers himself into the chair on the other side of her desk; carefully, like he's nursing wounds.

It should stir her sympathy, but it doesn't. Her and Harrison have been running themselves ragged picking up the slack since Tobias has been on his Lost Weekend because he's been shirking all his responsibilities, not just Tris.

"I know I have no right to ask you for a favor."

"No, you don't," she cuts him off. Tori might be a diminutive woman, but her anger has always made her seem bigger. Big enough that Tobias is intimidated by her.

"It's not for me, it's for Tris," he hastily adds.

"Then why isn't she asking me?"

"It's a surprise."

Tori glares at him, ruffling the papers in her hand like an angry bird ruffles their feathers. "Do you know what I'm doing?" Tobias swallows thickly, unsure if she wants an answer or a reason to yell at him. "Looking for your replacement. So what do you want?"

"The babies room is still bare, white walls. I know Tris wants to paint them, but I thought maybe you could paint something."

"You mean she's not sleeping on Uriah's couch anymore?"

"No, she still is. I just thought... maybe I could get her back home, where she belongs." His voice sounds broken and pathetic in his own ears. "I just... I need her home, Tori. I get it, you know, I get that she doesn't want me and I'm the one to blame for that, but I can't..." he trails off, looking out the window.

He doesn't know how to explain waking up on the bathroom floor and then crawling into the nursery, doesn't know how to explain why this is so important to him because it's not all about Marcus. Tobias doesn't understand the emotional punch it packs when he sees kids running around Dauntless because even though there have been moments he's been excited about the baby, on the whole he hasn't been, but it's different now too.

"So this is your apology?"

"It's what I can do. Fix up the baby's room for her, give her the home she deserves even if I'm not welcome in it."

Tori sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Give me your keys."

"Thank you."

"I'm not doing this for you," she snaps. She hefts the pile of folders off her desk and onto Tobias lap. "I want a shortlist of three to five names by the end of the day."

Tobias lets out a frustrated sigh, pitching another crumpled up piece of paper across the room, towards the wastebasket, and grabs another sheet. He didn't think writing Tris a note to wish her a happy birthday would be so hard, but there has to be a dozen balls of paper around the room, each a failed attempt.

His knuckles are white where they grip the pen, stress and annoyance making him dig it into the paper, more etching than writing. The beginning, at least, is easy.

Tris -

I know you don't want to see me, but I wanted to give you something for your birthday. I looked through the Dauntless archives and found this.

It's a picture of her mother not long before she transferred to Abnegation. From the way she's dressed it looks like she's at a party, her hair falling past her shoulders in soft waves.

The next part of the letter is a little trickier. He wants to tell her that he hopes she'll put the picture in the nursery, but he's in no position to make suggestions when it comes to the baby, and he knows it.

I know you wish your mother was still alive, and I do too. But at least the baby will know what she looked like, and he'll know that his grandmother was strong, and brave, and beautiful like his mother.

The ending is the part that's really giving him trouble though because this whole thing could easily backfire on him, just the simple act of giving her a gift, let alone all the things he wants to tell her. But he knows they'll only hurt her to hear them and this should be a happy day for her, not just something else in a long line of things he's ruined and he's already treading a fine line there. So he signs his name, tapes the card to the framed picture and wraps it up in shiny black and silver striped paper and walks downstairs.

The air in the Control Room is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Despite the fact that they've worked together the last four days, Zeke hasn't said anything to Tobias since that night in the bar.

Tobias sets down the present on the desk next to him. He doesn't expect Zeke to acknowledge him, and he doesn't. "I know Uriah's throwing Tris' birthday party tonight. I was hoping you could give her this for me."

When Zeke doesn't say anything, just keeps pounding on the keyboard, Tobias leaves the room, leaves the compound entirely.

The sun is still high in the sky, and the day is hot and humid. By the time he makes it to Navy Pier he's pouring sweat, but he doesn't stop moving until he's sitting on the same platform Tris led him to, halfway up the Ferris wheel.

His fear of heights isn't something he ever expected to get over, and he hasn't, but sitting up here he feels closer to her than he has in a while even though she's miles away.