"Four?" I say shaking. This scene seems too familiar. "Four!" I scream, fear erupting in my voice. My cry goes unnoticed under the blur of shouts. I reach for him, but the crowd thickens and I feel myself shoved back and forth with the waves of people. It was only yesterday night when I witnessed him dead, but that wasn't real. Now here he is again, on the floor in a bloody mess. The only difference is I don't get to wake up to find him alive and safe. I don't get to open my eyes and return his curious gaze, soft with love.

Nope. I get to stare at him helplessly as he lies deathly still on the ground in a pool of blood.

An empty path breaks the crowd in half as I watch two people walk through, carrying Four whose body limply drags along. Peter follows weakly behind them, still grasping his broken arm. I don't bother to stay in the clutter of chaos, and instead walk next to Four's carriers as they lug him to the infirmary.

"Is he in a coma?" I ask.

They shake their heads. "He's just unconscious. It happens."

That makes me exhale with relief. I decide I'll let Four explain what happened when he wakes up. Something like a fire smolders inside me towards Peter. It sizzles and pops and tells me that Peter is obviously to blame for this. And by the time we reach the infirmary, the hatred in me feels volcanic. I'm going to hurt him.

While Peter saunters away to wait for an arm cast, they settle Four onto a bed and hastily begin stripping his shirt off. The back of the shirt appears soaked in blood by the way it hangs heavily in the air and droops when they set it aside. Red color floods the white of the sheets under Four.

I sense movement next to me, but before I can look, I hear him say "Tris" next to my ear. I internally groan. It's Eric. The only times where I have to see Eric are when the faction is gathered together, Eric standing above everyone with his fist raised, announcing jobs or addressing problems within the faction.

"Eric," I reply firmly. "Didn't know you liked to visit infirmary patients."

He laughs, but it doesn't sound warm like Four's. It rings like a cold bell. He crosses his arm. "I don't," he says, shrugging. "Just wanted to know if Four was dead."

"He's not dead," I snap, clenching my fists. I couldn't take him on really, but I could try. He doesn't respond for a few moments, and I take the time to watch the nurse pull out antiseptic towels.

"I don't know," he finally says, peering over at Four's figure. A sly grin spreads across his face. "He looks pretty stiff."

My fist strikes his jaw, the skin under his lip twisting with my knuckles. I don't remember deciding to hit him but as soon as my fist loses contact, a searing pain aches at the side of my head and I feel myself hit the floor. I curl up and cross my arms in front of me, waiting for the impact of a kick to send me somewhere painful, but it never comes. When I look up I see Lauren struggling to hold Eric back, hissing in his ear, "You better stop right now." Eric manages to stick his foot out and violently grind it on my hand before falling into silence, his eyes wild and hungry as if he's been needing an excuse to hurt someone for a while. The sting from his foot burns. Gritting my teeth, I glare back at him and pick myself up, inspecting my damaged hand. It's mostly swollen, and two of my fingers bend at weird angles. They're probably slightly broken.

"Let me fix that up for you," Lauren says, shoving Eric behind her.

"I don't need it," I shoot back coldly. The last thing I want Eric to think is that I need someone to baby me after a little hit like that.

She just looks at me and shakes her head. I watch the rings in her eyebrows wiggle with her face. "Give it here," she says gently, grabbing my wrist. After pulling out medical tape from the one of the drawers, she begins wrapping the bandages around my hand and finishes by handing me a small bag of ice from the freezer. "It'll heal faster if you don't eat it." Then, with a friendly grin, she winks and turns around to face Eric.

I peek over at Four. Bandages cover his waist and his arms, with a single blood-stained rag draped over his head. I draw a chair and plant it next to his bed, plopping down on its metal seat.

"Four?" I whisper almost inaudibly. I lean in close to his face, gently clutching the edge of the bed with hope, but he doesn't respond.

I leave him alone for what? Half an hour? And this is what happens? I groan. Luckily, I have a day off from work today, so I don't have to leave him until tomorrow. In a way, I wish Eric hurt me enough to put me on one of the beds too so Four and I can be crippled together. But then I shake away the thought, knowing that's not courageous at all. It's just selfish.

I rest my head next to his and steadily doze off.


When I wake up, I feel a pair of eyes on me again.

I glance up, expecting to meet Four's gaze, but his eyes are still closed, concealing the deep blue underneath. Instead I find Uriah sitting next to me in his own pulled-up chair, nonchalantly flipping through a Dauntless magazine. "Oh you're awake," he says as I sit up. He hands me a cup of water. "Thought I'd stop by and stand guard."

"Nice of you," I mumble tiredly, bringing the cup to my lips. My eyes wander to the clock. It's around two in the afternoon.

"Since when were you and Four so cozy?" His voice is teasing, but there's a strange texture to it, as if there's some other motive under his smile. I ignore it. Then I remember. Uriah hadn't seen me at all since initiation until about a month and a half ago, so he wouldn't know what went on between Four and I before he left for his mission.

I don't know how wise it is to simply state our relationship though, so I plainly respond, "We're not." Then I remember I was just resting my head next to Four for the past six hours. God, I'm a terrible liar.

"Oh yeah?" He closes the magazine and gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Just wondering," he says with a laugh. "Looks like you won't need me anymore, so I'll get going, yeah?"

I give him a brief nod, raising my cup towards him. "Thanks."

"No problem," he says, laughing again. I smile back, sipping the water.

Then, out of nowhere, he leans over and gives me a hug. At first I'm not really sure how to respond, but eventually I bring my arms awkwardly around him, waiting for him to let go. Out of the corner of my eye I think I see Four twitch, but when I look again, he appears completely unmoved.