In honor of my birthday, I gift YOU, my dear reader, an update.

Tobias' POV

After I tuck Beatrice into my old bed, I migrate to the living area. I sit down on the couch and put my head in my hands. I think back to Christina's accusation. She was right; I couldn't deny that Will was making I-like-you eyes at my daughter. A pang goes through my heart at that. I remember looking at Tris like that all those years ago when no one else was looking.

I hear the front door open, but I don't look up. I hear however walked in sigh. "Four." It's Zeke. I grunt.

"Four," he repeats, sitting down next to me. "How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean, Zeke?" I snap despite knowing exactly what he means.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you have a daughter who looks just like Tris and the fact that you have no idea what it's like to have a teenage daughter," he says.

I sigh. "It's hard, looking at her and knowing it isn't her mother. The only difference is the nose and her hair is curly, but other than that, I can't help but see Tris in her. But, at the same time, I have a beautiful daughter." I pause. "I think I'm okay."

He offers me a small smile. "You keep calling her that." I give him a questioning look. "You keep referring to her as 'my daughter'."

I shrug. "You did the same thing when you and Shauna got married," I point out.

He nods slowly. "It'll take some getting used to, having a kid." He hesitates. "I have a feeling that one of your first instincts is to protect her from everything. Most fathers feel that when it comes to their kids. I mean, look at Andrew and Caleb. Caleb didn't want Andy going into the force with Amar and me, but Andy is part Dauntless and he knew what he had to do, and now they have a bumpy relationship at times." I nod. I tested Andrew last year for his aptitude. He got results for Dauntless and Abnegation, which puzzled me at first. Come to find out, Susan's great-uncle on her mother's side transferred to Dauntless from Abnegation. It's all in the blood.

"Four, I have some advice for you: don't put her on a tight leash. I can tell that she's pretty independent and if you try putting restrictions on her… I doubt that it'll end well. Okay?"

I think about it for a second. He's right though. Beatrice and I have to form a relationship before I can start acting like her father. And I'm terrified.

I nod. "Okay."

"Good. See you tomorrow, bro." He gets up to leave.

"Zeke," I say. "Where did this conversation come from?"

He smirks. "You looked like you wanted to punch Will for staring at Six, and I figured I'd offer some friendly advice."

I consider this. "Alright. See you for breakfast."

He nods before walking out. I turn on the couch so I'm lying on it. I think I'm going to have to take a bed from one of the shops in the Pit and bring it in here. Or maybe I'll just relocate to a different apartment so that there are a couple of rooms.

I eventually drift into one of the first restful slumbers in a long time.

I see a flash of blonde hair in the corner of my eye, and I turn towards it. My eyes meet a bluish-gray pair and my heart swells.

"Tris," I breath, my eyes burning with unshed tears. She looks just as she did the last time I saw her before I left for Chicago to get Zeke and Hana.

She puts her hand on my cheek. "Tobias," she says. "I never meant to hurt you."

I lean into her palm and gently put my hands on her hips. "I know. I just miss you," I say honestly. "We have a daughter."

Tris smiles. "I know. She has your nose."

I nod. "She looks just like you though. She's beautiful."

She wraps her arms around my neck and I feel 18 again. There is no way I can possibly live without this.

"Tobias, you can live without this. Without me. You have our daughter now," she says firmly. Perhaps I was thinking out loud, I think to myself.

I shake my head. "I know and I would do anything for her now, but I'm scared. I don't want to be... like Marcus."

She scowls. "Tobias Eaton, you listen to me." I nod, signalling that I'm paying attention. "You are nothing, you hear me, nothing, like Marcus. Okay? You're going to be an amazing father to our daughter, I know you will. You'll be a better father than Marcus could ever dream of being, okay?" she seethes. I nod. She always had more faith in me than I had in myself. I'm still afraid of Marcus' influence on me and my potential to be a father. I push the thought away, turning my attention back to the woman I still love.

"Also, I can't help but wonder how things could have been had everything… played out differently." I refuse to speak of her death when she's with me. "I mean, we could've been together, a family, where she be calling me 'Dad' instead of my first name and she'd call you 'Mom' and maybe she could've had a younger brother or sister, or maybe even more, but…" I trail off, tears choking me.

Tris takes my face in both of her hands. "I know. You know I never truly wanted to leave. Had I known that I was pregnant, we could've figured out something different. I just could not let Caleb go… if I had, you wouldn't have Andrew." She offers me a small smile.

I sigh and put my hands over hers, still on my face. "You're right, but… God, I just miss you so much."

She nods and takes a step back, taking her hands and warmth with her. "I'll always love you, Tobias," she says before she collapses. I rush towards her.

"Tris!" I yell. "Tris, wake up!" Tears are flowing freely down my cheeks as I shake her shoulder, trying to wake her, but she's not waking, she's not breathing –

"Tobias, wake up!" someone yells, shaking my shoulders. "C'mon, wake up, please."

I bolt into a sitting position. I look around and see Tris – no, Beatrice. My daughter. I calm down a little and put my head in my hands. I feel her sit down in front of me.

I look up and run a hand through my hair. It's still dark out.

Beatrice pulls her legs up to her chest and puts her chin on her knees. "You were screaming," she says. "You were calling out my name and when I came in here, you were thrashing a little." Her voice sounds pained and it breaks my heart.

I swallow. "I'm sorry, Bea." I don't really know where "Bea" came from. She obviously hates being called "Beatrice" – she doesn't strike me as a "Beatrice" – and I can't handle saying "Tris" to her without thinking of her mother. "I was dreaming of your mom." She nods understandingly. She turns away from me and I notice that she has found a pair of baggy shorts and a large t-shirt – probably mine from my teenage years. She doesn't look like she had been sleeping well; she has bags forming under her eyes and her hair is snarled in so many different ways that can only be created with tossing and turning. "Did I wake you?" I ask, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head slowly. "No. I've been up for a while. I was having nightmares myself." She shrugs nonchalantly, but I can see past the act. I don't push the issue, however, because I know that she still needs to open up to me.

"Well, if everything's okay now, I'll just go back to bed," she mumbles groggily as she gets up.

"Bea," I say. She turns expectantly, a small smile playing at her lips. "How about you and I go do something tomorrow, okay? Father-daughter time." Ideas start mashing through my head. Paintball, training, walking around Chicago, wait no walking, she needs to lie low. Something in Dauntless…

Her voice interrupts my thoughts. "Sure," she says. She stands there awkwardly for a few beats before turning again. "Okay, goodnight… Dad."

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