Hi, initiates! I'm (again) so so so so so so so sorry for my long absence. I've had a lot on my plate lately, and there is a lot going on. But I know you probably don't want my excuses. I mean, everyone has something to deal with. I am here now, so let's get this show on the road. Thank you all for being such loyal readers even though I take a millennia to update.

~AngelNephilim14

I don't own Divergent.

Yes, the characters are a bit OOC.

The blow never comes.

I raise my head and see a small, blond figure moving in front of me. I want to shout at her, but I am a coward. I want to let her fight for me. Then I realize who it is. It's Tris who gets in the way and Marcus, who was momentarily startles, throws her against the desk like a rag doll. She lets out a little squeak and the wind is knocked out of her. She is weak and tiny after all.

Tris crumples to the ground, clutching her abdomen. She is panting for her breath. Marcus stomps over to me, belt in hand and starts to kick me.

"Why the hell is she here? Couldn't fight your own fucking battles so you had to get a little girl to fight them for you, huh? Who else did you tell? I'm going to fucking break you boy," he rages.

I curl up and let him hit me. Then I feel the stinging pain of the belt. It whips and digs unmercifully into my back.

"Marcus-" coughs Tris. Is she trying to reason with him? How does she even know his name, the name of a monster I call father?

He ignores her, and Tris wobbily stands on her feet. Then, she slowly walks over to Marcus.

"Please stop. You can't do this," she says. Marcus looks up at her, and then he stares for a long time.

"Why not? What do you know? He took her from me, Natalie. I miss her so much. He's the reason that she's dead." Then, I see my terrible father cry. Tris lets him hug her and cry on her.

At first, I do not understand what he is talking about, but then I realize he is talking about my mother. My mother died giving birth to me. I guess in some ways it is my fault, but he didn't have to hit me for it. All this time I thought it was because I was a failure, it was all because of my mother. He fucking abused me for my entire life because of something I couldn't control.

"You can't keep blaming him, he's your son. Evelyn would not want this. You know it too," Tris reasons.

"I'm sorry Natalie. I just get so mad. If he hadn't been born then she'd still be here with me. I just want him gone so I don't have to think about her," Marcus says.

"Why don't you go to bed? You will feel better in the morning," she suggests. Marcus nods and walks off.

I lay on the ground, bloody and confused. What just happened?

Tris POV

"What was that?" Four croaks. He winces with every breath he breathes.

"He thought I was my mother. I know him because my father works with him, although I knew he had a son, I never thought that it would be you," I say.

"Why would he stop beating me to listen to you? He never stopped when I screamed and cried," he accuses.

"My mother and father were his best friends, up until Evelyn died, of course. After, he had to take care of you and they aren't as close anymore. Enough questions about that right now. I'm going to clean you up, and then we are going to talk," I order.

Four is already on his stomach. I went into his bathroom and looked for a first aid kit.

Four hissed as I cleaned his whip marks. It was not a very pretty sight, and it looked very excruciatingly painful.

After bandaging everything up, he slowly got himself onto his bed. I carefully lay down next to him.

"First of all, what is your name?" I ask.

"It's Tobias, Tobias Eaton," he answers. I whisper his name under my breath, very softly, but he hears me. Then, he grasps my hand. I gasp at the sudden contact.

"I like it when you say it. But please only say my name in private," he pleads. I nod my head and I close my eyes. Maybe we can talk tomorrow. Both of us need to rest. My abdomen is bruised from Marcus throwing me against the desk. How I managed to move around so much without wheezing and coughing every few seconds was beyond me.

"Goodnight Tobias. We can talk tomorrow," I yawn. And I drift off into sleep.

I wake up to see Tobias standing by his desk, a note in hand and a wide eyed expression on his face. He looks so young and naïve. How could this be the guy that damaged my heart? When he hears me shifting, he turns to face me fully.

Holding up the note, he says, "He left."

He walks towards me and lets me read the paper. The handwriting is messy, like Marcus was in a rush to get somewhere.

Tobias,

I'm leaving. I realized that I need to get my problems sorted out. I have another family somewhere beyond Chicago. You will not see me anymore, and I hope to never see you again too,

Marcus Eaton.

I finish reading and look back up at Tobias. His eyes are a world of emotions.

"I don't know whether to be relieved or scared or angry," he breathes.

"Well, he just told you that you are not going to see him again, so you have no one to support you, and also, he basically just said he has a family that he cares about more than you. Whatever you are feeling is entirely respectable."

He looks out the door and then back at me and smiles. I see his eyes brighten and he hugs me, "He's gone. I don't have to worry about him anymore!"

I hug him back and let him celebrate. If only things weren't so tense, I would kiss him. That thought brings my mood down and I try to forget about it.

Tobias sees this in my face and the smile is wiped off his face as well. He sighs knowing what I am thinking about.

"Look, Tris, I'm so sorry about what I did, and I want to-" he begins.

I cut him off, "I don't think I can forgive you just yet. But I know that I like having you in my life, so I'm considering being friends with you." It comes out like a question. He nods and I get out of the bed.

"I'm going to go home. I hope your back gets better, and uh, bye." I'm confusing myself now. First I want him, then I don't, then I need him, and then once again I don't.

I hold my stomach as I walk out of his house and into my car. My thoughts are suddenly in a whirlwind. Driving back home, I try to think of how I am feeling about all of this.

But now I don't know. I'm absolutely sure I don't know.