I NEED TO ASK A QUESTION: With the chapters I try to limit them to 1,100-1,500 words each, and then just update frequently, but what do you guys prefer? Maybe I should update long 3000-4000 word chapters weekly? I mean I'm already at eight chapters and it's only been four days since I started because I'm really obsessed with writing this, y'all have no idea. I've literally been glued to my computer since day one.

But this is my first fanfiction so I'm a little unsure. What do you guys think is a healthy time span between each update? I guess the suspense between each update is a valuable part of fanfiction experience.

Thanks! And please review and critique please please i love you i want to make this fanfiction enjoyable to read and not labor


Once Uriah leaves, I look around to make sure Four and I are alone. If not for his swelling chest, I would've thought Four was actually dead because of how peacefully he sleeps. Then again, there's something unsettling about the way he sleeps, as if he's having a nightmare or is ready to jump if someone tries to wake him. I brush my hand across the bandages on his arm, then lean over to take his hand and kiss it. Just as I begin to let go however, his fingers slowly curl around mine. I whip my head to look at him, finding his blue eyes wide open and watching me.

"Did you wake up just now?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"No, I woke up a while ago," he says, shifting his eyes towards the door. "I waited for Uriah to leave."

"You didn't have to." I touch my cheek to his shoulder. His skin is firm and warm. He strains to tilt his head so that it touches mine, but cringes and sinks back into the pillow. It must be pretty bad. I sit up, my eyes sliding over his body. "What happened to you?"

"Got in a fight," he says plainly. "Peter fell over the edge and I got dragged along with him." Then something of still coldness creeps over his gaze. "Should've let him drop." I imagine Peter's body tumbling into the Chasm, the thrashing waters tearing his skin to shreds. And then watching some men hoist him back onto the ground while Eric commemorates him with the "outstanding victory" of facing death. It brings me to another memory, a distant memory that haunts me in my sleep from time to time. I shake off the thought.

"But your back?" I persist.

"It hurts," he says quietly, as if he's admitting something embarrassing. "I think I hit a sharp rock when I fell off the edge." He carefully turns over onto his side with subtle grunts, exposing his back to me. "How does it look?"

I gape. Aside from several ugly scrapes sprinkled around, there's a slash that opens wide and deep across the waist level and turns toward his neck, thinning out right under his shoulder. The bandages don't even cover half of it. There are few scrapes on his neck but the scar on it from his mission looks fresh with blood. "Four…" I'm almost ashamed of how weakly his name falls from my mouth. "It looks pretty bad. I think you'll have to stay here for at least another day." Dauntless in general don't like staying at the infirmary for more than a couple hours. He opens his mouth about to protest, but stops. A thoughtful expression glides over his face.

"I've been meaning to ask," his voice softens. His non-bandaged thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand. "When did you start calling me Four?"

I don't respond. I don't remember when I stopped calling him by his real name. Sometime during those two months it stopped ringing like it used to and I reverted back to his nickname. I shrug my shoulders. I don't know.

"Say it for me," he says, closing his eyes.

The name forms in my mouth, gradually and then altogether. "Tobias," I whisper.

He smiles and brings his arm stiffly around my neck, pulling my face closer to his. "Again," he says quietly. Chills shiver up my spine.

"Tobias…" I mutter, feeling his lips press against my neck. The name sounded foreign minutes before, but now it pulsates through me, woven into my skin. "Again," he breathes against my cheek.

"…Tobias." I close my eyes too and wait for his mouth to collide with mine. Instead, I feel him freeze. I glance up at him. His eyes are locked on my bandaged hand, his head seeming to well up with thoughts.

"What happened?" he asks.

I make it sound like it's not a big deal because really it's not. "Who cares?" Smiling, I lean in to continue where we left off but he turns his head and lifts my hand to inspect it. Sighing, I wrap my free hand around his arm. "Eric stepped on it. It's nothing."

"Eric did this?" Disgust occupies his expression.

"It's fine," I repeat, pulling away my injured hand. I forgot the numbing pain until now.

He doesn't say anything. He simply gives me a hard look. "Why would he?"

"I just got mad and punched him," I say shrugging.

"You punched him?" He shakes his head. "What would make you mad enough that you'd throw a punch at Eric?"

"He happily said you were dead," I say through my teeth. "Just thought he deserved it."

"I'm honestly surprised you're not in a bed next to me," He mumbles, bringing my hand to his lips. He groans at the ceiling. "You're an idiot, Tris,"

I glare at him. "What about you? Why would you throw yourself over the Chasm edge with Peter?" I shoot back. Inside I've wanted to ask him ever since he woke up but I didn't realize I'd confront him about it like this.

"He was pushing me. It was either me or both of us going over those railings." He senses the hostility in my voice, so he softens his. Not very convincingly though, because there's a murderous edge to his tone.

He's still being vague. "But why would he be pushing you?"

Four—Tobias is reluctant to say it. He mutters quietly, "He was trying to rally people up to kill the Abnegation people in Dauntless." He bites his lip. "And it was working." A chill runs up my spine. There are only two people I can think of from Abnegation that transferred into Dauntless.

Tobias and I.


Eventually Tobias falls asleep again (I think), and after replacing his rag with a clean one, I let myself head to the dining hall to fetch some food. I'm a little later than usual, so I'm not expecting to find many friends there. I feel a tiny bit guilty for not catching up with Christina. It's been two days since Four returned, and two days since I've spent any time at all with her.

I realize I haven't eaten anything today. I stack four or five slices of toast and a cup of fruit on my plate and sit down. I still remember being in the cafeteria as an Abnegation, watching the Dauntless as chatter still fills the room, and stacks of cards and gambling checkers replace the plates. I'm about through with my third slice when someone plops down next to me. It's Uriah.

"Hey," he says good-naturedly as usual. I give him a responding smile. His skin is pale courtesy of staying in a cave all his life but the remnants of scars from fights and who knows what are still prevalent around his arms. He grins at me. "We're going zip-lining again. It's even more exciting at night, I promise. You in?"

"Nah," I manage, my voice muffled by mushed-up toast in my cheek. "I've got plans tonight." His eyes sink, disappointed, but he doesn't push it. After chatting a while, he realizes he needs to go gather up the group and says his good-bye with a hug. My body tenses at his touch. It doesn't feel right.

I return to the infirmary with an egg in my hand for Tobias. He said he wasn't hungry but I'm sure he'll appreciate a snack. He's still sleeping peacefully in his bed, this time his arm resting limply across his chest. I sit down on the metal seat again and set the egg protectively in my lap before resting my head next to his. After taking one last look at his face, I close my eyes.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too," he whispers back.