"Fine," he whispers. "What do you want to know?"


"I know just what will cheer you up, and you know you're going to need the target practice."

"What's that?"

"Paintball."

She smiles a little bit. "You think you can beat me this time, Uri?"

He smirks. "Consider yourself served, Short Stuff. I'll call Christina, and maybe Will and Fernando can come too."

"Sounds good."

"Hey, you can't be on the same team as both of them."

"Why not?!" She asks.

"Because I'm not trying to get my ass handed to me!"

"Fine. How about you be team captain this time? That way you can pick me."

"Well, you know what they say. If you can't beat 'em, join em."

She laughs. "Okay, Uri. We'll see about you being on my team this time."

He pulls his cellphone out and his thumbs move so fasts she is sure they will catch fire.

Within moments, his phone begins to vibrate. "Christina... Matt... Marlene... Amar..." He waits for a second, and sure enough, his phone vibrates again. "Lauren, Shauna, Bud." He waits again. "Will and Fernando are in." He grins. "Looks like the gang's all going to be there."

She grins. "Let's do this."


When they arrive in the paintball arena, they suit up quickly and group together to decide teams. "Okay. Who are our team captains?"

Tris doesn't raise her hand or even draw attention to herself, but ten pairs of eyes turn to her, some confused, but most expectant. "What?" she mutters. "You don't actually think I want to be captain, do you?"

Uriah grins. "Just say yes, Short Stuff."

She fires her paintball gun at his foot. "I got your Short Stuff—"

"Ow! Alright, alright! Uncle! Jesus."

She smirks a little bit. "That's what you get," she grins. "And if I'm captain, I pick first."

"Okay, who else?"

There's some bickering and good-natured jostling, but then Will finally is elected team captain. He selects Amar.

Tris taps her chin. "Chris."

"Shauna."

"Lauren."

"Fer."

"Uri."

"Fucking yes!" he shouts, and Tris laughs as he joins her team. "Boo-yah! You all are going down."

Will just grins. "We'll see about that," he says. "Marlene, please join me."

She grins and skips toward him. Tris smiles at her. She's younger than the rest, only twenty two, but she might as well be twelve sometimes, she seems so childlike. She has long, dark hair with dyed silver and hot pink streaks. The younger girl is always full of laughter and jokes, and she likes having the girl with them on their games. She kept things friendly. Also, Uriah is desperately in love with her, but will never say anything about it. Without knowing it, she keeps him honest.

The rest of the people are relegated to their teams, and Uriah hands out the flags. "Okay, people! Set your timers. Each team has ten minutes to plan and hide their flags."

Tris grins, setting the timer on her phone. "Okay guys. How do you want to play this?"

The bickering and interjecting starts up almost immediately. Tris watches them for a moment, not being able to get a word in edgewise. She looks around, slipping away from the team. She studies the paintball arena meticulously, a plan forming in her mind. Then she returns.

"Okay guys, I've got the plan."

They're all silent immediately.

"There are places high enough here that one or two of you can lay on and hide at a time. Uriah, Matt, you guys are my snipers. You'll lay up there, over there, or on top of that thing." She points at the various things. "Lauren, you and I will be searching for the flag. Matt, you're with us."

"Where will we hide the flag?"

"We're going to shuffle it around. I will keep it, and hand it off to Lauren after two minutes. Lauren will hide it and give it to Christina, and she'll hand it back to me, and so on. One of us will have it on their person at all times," she says. "No one will know we have it, they'll be looking for it on something or under something. You two will be able to see the whole arena from up there. If you see someone from the opposite team, shoot. If you see the flag, shoot the defenders, and fire two extra shots so that we know where the flag is. Even if the other team can see you, it will be impossible for them to shoot you if you're laying down."

"Your plan is nuts."

"It will work. Just don't get shot. You guys are all faster and smaller than the people Will chose, except Marlene."

"This is incredibly ambitious."

Tris smiles. "Just stay hidden and keep moving. Be quiet, and . Uriah and Matt will be looking out for us."

They all nod, seeming dubious. "Okay. You have three minutes. Take your positions," she says to Matt and Uriah. They nod and scramble to take their place. "Matt, you cover the people on your side, I will cover the people over here.

Uriah smirks as he silently lays down. He's already spotted the flag and the two people guarding it. They will be his first targets. Tris has the flag and has moved toward that area to hide, so he will watch her.

The time ends, and he waits, not wanting to give Tris away. Once she's secure and Lauren has taken her hiding place, he fires on the two guards. They both identify Uriah's yellow paint and look around for him. He lays flat and hides his gun, silently laughing at their confusion as they shuffle off to the side, removing their coveralls and complaining that they got taken out right away. When they are gone, he fires two more rounds at the wall, marking the spot where the flag has been hidden behind a group of crates.

Lauren moves silently toward Tris, and Tris moves toward the flag.

Amar jumps up and points his gun at Lauren, but Matt shoots him before he can fire. "What the fuck?" he says, frowning at the blue paint on his arm and chest. "Where'd that come from?!"

Uriah is startled by Tris shooting again. There's only one member of the other team left, so his team decides to converge on the target just by simply running fast. Lauren takes the flag from Tris, stuffing it inside her coverall, and falls back. Matt hops down from his hiding place, grinning.

Tris straightens out of her crouch, walks into the open, and takes the flag. "We win," she says simply.

"How'd you guys do that?!" Fernando asks, frowning. "You took us all out before we even knew where all of you were."

Will grins and kisses Christina, congratulating her for slaughtering his team. She just smirks.

"Wait, where'd you hide the flag?"

Tris grins smugly. "I think those are tricks we'll keep up our sleeve."

"Oh come on!"

"Well if you must know—and shame on you, Will and Fernando, because I thought you guys would have thought of this—we put Matt and Uri up as lookouts... as snipers. They took out the guards for your flag in less than a minute. That's how we knew where your flag even was."

Will frowns as he considers this. "This girl is fucking dangerous, Fer," he says finally.

"No shit," he snorts.

Uriah claps her gently on the back. "Way to go, Captain Short Stuff."

"Let's play again," someone says, and they all cheer.

Will's phone rings, and he fumbles with his coveralls to answer it, turning away from the group. "This is Detective Shannon." He frowns. "Where is he? No, she's here with me. I will tell her. Thanks, Lieutenant." He turns to face them again. "You, you, and you are with me. Sorry folks, we've got to go. I'd love to play with you all again," he says sincerely.

Tris, Christina, and Fernando follow him, confused. "What's going on?!"

"I'll explain in the car. Chris, I hope you've got your stuff."

"What's going on, Will?!"

"It's about Four. There was a brawl in one of the common rooms of the prison."

Tris feels her throat constrict, as if tentacles had wrapped around it and squeezed with all their might. The tentacles lace their way around her lungs and creep down her spine, making her tremble. Her vision swims, and she stumbles.

Fernando's grip on her keeps her from falling, and he gently guides her the rest of the way to the car.

Christina frowns. "Is he alright?"

"They've transferred him to the prison ward at the hospital—I don't know anything else. As of right now, because it's the prison ward, he has security guards with him at all times, but I'm going to have our guys watch him, okay? People I trust. Until he gets back, I will personally make sure that he's well guarded so that no one can hurt him. Tris, look at me." She does, but he's very blurry. "He's going to be alright. I will make sure of it. Okay?"

She nods. "Okay," she whispers.


He groans in pain as his eyes open. What the fuck happened?! Oh right. Someone went at Rock, and then all hell broke loose. Someone hit him over the head with a damn chair or something.

His head. Holy fuck... He grimaces as his head throbs in protest to the beating he received. He moves to put his hand over his eyes, but his hand stops short. He looks down at it in bewilderment to find a tan cuff around his wrist—restraints. He's a prisoner, of course he has fucking restraints.

The lights are too bright.

Fuck my life, he thinks, shutting his eyes.

A nurse walks in, and he practically begs her to turn off the lights. She does, when she's done checking his blood pressure and all that other stuff. There's a tiny contraption she uses to stab his finger, and he winces as blood gathers into a large drop at the top of his middle finger. He wants to flip her off with it, but decides against it. He's not always an asshole. Everything just hurts.

She leaves after announcing that, aside from his moderate concussion, he is in excellent health. She flips off the light, and he sighs in relief.

When he opens his eyes, he grins. He must be dreaming, because after he told her off like that, there's no way she'd be here, touching his face with so much gentle, soothing care. Her fingers are tracing the marks on his arm. Her hand moves from his face to take his hand instead. She's so... not pretty, pretty isn't the right word. She isn't just like those other sluts, pretty with fake perfect boobs and fake colored hair, and fake lines around their eyes and fake everything. She's... naturally striking. She's beautiful. She's also crying.

Shit. This means he isn't dreaming, and she's really here. What is she doing here?!

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," he mumbles.

"I thought you knew me well enough to know I'm not going to just do that," she says, but she still looks hurt.

He wants to touch her, but he settles for squeezing her hand, already in his. "I... I'm sorry."

She gives him that tiny, unsatisfying smile. "I know."

"You still can't stay here."

"You can't tell me what to do, mister."

He smirks. "Snippy as always, are you, Little Sparkler?"

"Fuck you."

"Would that I could," he mumbles. "I'm always going to love you, do you know that?"

She swallows and nods.

"Good." With his finger, he motions at one of the police officers outside the door. "She can't stay," he says.

She glares at him, shocked. "What the fuck?!"

"Get her... get her out of here. S-send her home."

The officer looks at his companion, who shrugs. Then he reaches for her arm, and she pulls away from him, violently. "Don't fucking touch me," she hisses. "I can walk myself out."

The officer steps forward again, but she moves around him and toward the door. "You're a jerk," she whispers to Four. "I wish I could hate you. Don't touch me, I said, don't fucking touch me!" she snaps at the police officer before addressing Four again. Tears well in her eyes. "I wish I could hate you, so that I could just leave you. But I'm... I can't do that." She draws a deep breath. "I won't see you again," she whispers. "I'll help with your case if it's necessary. But when you're free, I'll be gone."

He grits his teeth as the shooting pain in his chest echoes the one is head.

She walks past the officers, her whole body shaking. This is killing her. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"For what it's worth," says the officer, not unkindly, "you're an idiot."

He stares at the railing of the hospital bed, suddenly feeling empty. "She's better off without me, without all this bullshit. I'm not an idiot. She thinks... she thinks she can free me, but she's wrong. I will always be a prisoner, even if I'm not in jail. She doesn't need my shit."

"Everyone has shit," the officer says reasonably. "Anybody in my line of work has more shit than most people. Anybody in your line or work has shit too. But when you love someone it isn't always unicorns farting rainbows and shitting sunshine. When you love someone, it's because you've accepted them, with their good and bad parts, their strengths, and their weaknesses, and their... shit."

"She doesn't even know what my shit is. How can she have accepted it?"

"Well if you never told her, then you never even gave her the choice to accept or walk away."

He looks at the officer with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I understand... that your being in prison complicates things a lot. But if your crime isn't the only thing that you carry, maybe it's time you let someone else share the load, for a change. The longer you carry it alone, the heavier it gets."

Four stares at the railing again, not saying anything else.

The officer gently pats his arm. "She'll be back, you know."

But he's wrong. He recognized the stubborn set in her shoulders, the determined look in her eyes. She won't be back. Even if they manage to prove his innocence, she'll be gone, and she won't make the effort to find him. He saw what he did to her when she walked away from him. He broke her. She'll never want him after this.

What's the use of being out of jail, anyway, if he won't have her?


Today, Christina, his new lawyer and Tris's best friend, is here. She's discussing things with him, but he's hardly listening. He's been back in the prison for four days. He was in the hospital for a week, but he's still recovering. Tris hasn't been back to see him. He's seen her here, visiting Caleb. He stayed at the entrance and just watched her, studied her hair and her face. Her eyes had dark circles around them, and she was more pale than her usual fairness. He hates that he's done that to her, but he knows she's strong enough to move on from him somehow. She'll be okay, he tells himself over and over. She's strong. She'll be okay.

"Four, snap out of it. Hey!" she waves her hand in front of his face. She sighs. "You brought this upon yourself, you know that? She's a hot mess, and clearly, so are you. Why don't you just let things run their course instead of being so fucking determined to push her out of this? You're going to succeed in a bad way, you know, and then you're going to hate yourself, because she'll be out of your life permanently. She'll be the one that got away forever."

"I don't need your lectures," he says. He wants the words to sting, but they have no energy behind them.

"She doesn't eat. She wakes up screaming or crying. Uriah has taken to sleeping on her couch so that she feels safe at night."

She'll be okay. She's going to be alright. This is just a phase... a break up thing. She's okay, she'll be okay.

"She drew this. I took a picture when she wasn't looking." She reaches into her briefcase and takes out a photo. On it there is a large drawing, on a wooden floor leaning against a wall. The image is so vivid, so real, that he shifts uncomfortably. Is that what he looked like to her the first time she visited him? He looks so... alive.

"I took these too... once I learned their origin, I thought it be right for you to see them." She pulls out various photos, each with a canvass that is framed and hanging on a wall, with a light shining on them. This must have been at her art show. He studies the intricate patterns, the ones she's traced a hundred times with her fingertips. He swallows.

"She hasn't been to her studio since this whole thing started."

He looks alarmed at that. She abandoned her art?!

"She has a sketchbook with her all the time, but I haven't seen her draw anything in a while."

He shakes his head. It's a phase. She'll be okay. She's going to be fine.

"She refuses to go to the station to talk about the case, and she refuses to answer any questions about you. She refuses police protection, but she's terrified of being alone. She's packed her bags like a hundred times, but you know she won't leave." Christina bites her lip to keep it from trembling. "Will you please... please... talk to her?"

Christina's crying. He didn't want her to get hurt by all of this. He scrubs his face with his hands. This is just... more proof of his failure, of his uselessness. He didn't want to hurt her, but he knew it was the only way she'd stay away from him. He didn't want all these people to hurt with her, and he certainly doesn't want them all involved in his beef with Dauntless. All of her friends are going to die because of him. He knew the second he touched his lips to hers for the first time that she had the power to break him, but he never in a million years imagined that he has that power over her, too. She seems too strong for that.

"Whatever it is that you're thinking, stop. You're being a drama queen. Just admit you messed up and talk to her."

He shakes his head, slamming his fist on the table as he stands. "Don't you get it?! If she knew everything about me, she'd—"

"She'd what?" Christina interrupts. "Hate you? Realize that you're not worth it? Let me tell you something, Tobias Eaton. I know exactly who you are and everything you've been through, and I'm still working your case... for free, might I add. If I think you are worth all of this, how could you possibly think she would reject you? You know she has more humanity in her left pinky than the two of us combined."

He wants to just admit that she's right, but his entire body is rejecting the idea that he could possibly be worth anything, especially someone like her.

He slumps back into his seat, his head in his hands.

His hand gripped his shoulder painfully, before pushing him to the ground. "Out of my way, you worthless turd!" He was only six.

"You're completely fucking useless," he growls. "Get out of my sight." He was nine... two weeks before his mother died. Before his mother was murdered.

The memories pour through him like acid.

"This is for your own good," he says lowly. "Maybe you'll fucking get it through your thick skull." That night, he beat his twelve-year-old son until he bled.

"I will kill you, you stupid piece of shit!" he screams, raining blow after blow on his face, on his shoulders, on his back. "You're nothing! Nobody will even miss you."

He's shaking so hard his teeth chatter and his vision is not stable.

"If I never see your ugly worthless face again, it will be too soon." That was the night he ran away. The night he became Four.

Why did he run? Why didn't he just let his father kill him? He could have save everyone a world of pain.

Christina watches him fight with the knowledge he's had his whole life. She touches his shoulder and he stiffens. "You need to talk to her," she whispers. "You need to tell her everything."


Caleb frowns as he picks at his food. Four is sitting with them, but he might as well not be. He doesn't even have a tray.

The trip to the police headquarters where Detective Shannon works finally was processed and arranged, and he traveled down there while Four was still in the hospital.

He cringes. That fight was brutal. He was lucky he managed to learn a thing or two from the guy, or else he wouldn't have been able to pull the maniac that was braining him away before the fucker killed him.

He learned a lot of things about Four in that place. Things that made him understand why he is so against answering questions and talking about himself. If he'd been through half that shit, he'd keep his mouth shut, too. Suddenly he was actually grateful that his parents weren't around enough to give a shit about him or Tris.

For the first time in his life, he feels protective of someone other than his sister. This guy will need the friends he has in here, and he is determined to be the best one he can be. He's determined to keep the older man safe somehow, the only way he knows how.

That's why, when he was at the precinct, he hacked the prison's records and shuffled the money his sister usually put in for him all into Four's account. He also made up a new cell roster for his block, and the block of the guy that almost bashed his brains in. Needless to say, Four would be sleeping like a baby after that, and the fucker that hit him... well...

Four seemed happy enough with the new arrangements when he returned, but even until now, he hasn't said a single word, not to anyone. He just sits with with his chin in his hands and stares dully at the wall, or at his tray, or at the numbers on the shirt of whoever is across from him that day.

After lunch is visiting, and he waits for Bee—Tris, her name is Tris. She looks pale and tired like she has for the past couple of weeks. When he sits in front of her, he makes sure the guard isn't looking, and he squeezes her hand. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Yeah, me too," she mutters in response. She waits a beat. "How are you?"

He smirks. "You mean, how is he? He's depressed as hell, but he's fine. They keep sending him to the infirmary to get his head checked, but as far as I know, he seems to be getting better. He hasn't spoken a word to anybody since he got back though. He looks like hell."

She frowns, and her body is tight with tension. "Why?" she asks.

"Maybe it has to do with whatever has you looking like shit too, sis," he says with a knowing look.

"You... you know we broke up."

"Yes, I know."

"I went to see him at the hospital and... and he had me thrown out."

He raises an eyebrow. "He did?"

She nods. "I'm just... I'm tired. I don't think I can do this, Caleb."

He grins. "Listen up, Bee, because I'm going to hit the playback button on everything you've told me. If there's anything I know about you, it's that you don't quit. You can do this, and you will because you're too stubborn not to."

"You're an ass," she says, but she doesn't mean it.

"I love you too. Come visit him, okay?"

"Why? For him to humiliate me again?"

"No. I don't think he will. Trust me on this, okay?"

She frowns. "Have you and Christina been planning something?"

He shakes his head, but a smirk plays at his lips. "Even if I did tell her anything, or she told me anything, I'm not allowed to tell you. Attorney-client privilege."

"Right. You're still an ass."

"Think about it, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," she mumbles.

"How's the case going? Have you heard anything?"

"Well, you got them into all her personal records, I heard."

"Even her medical stuff. Found out plenty about your boyfriend, too."

"Did you? Like what?"

He shakes his head. "Believe me, you'd rather hear it from him." He watches her expression carefully. Hook, line, and sinker, he thinks with a smirk. She's definitely going to visit him now, if for nothing else than to find out what his newest and darkest secrets are.

"Hey... you didn't hear this from me, okay? But someone told me... someone told me about his... ex-girlfriend, the one that's dead."

"Who? What'd they say?"

"I can't tell you that but... they said that he dreams about her a lot. Nightmares, really bad ones. I didn't really understand that until... God, Tris, it's horrible. I've woken him up twice, and both times he looked like he's seen the devil himself. He never says anything but... whatever it is, it haunts him. You have to get him out of here."

"We will," she says determinedly. "We will."