Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Divergent. Warning: angst and mentions of child abuse ahead.
The next phase, the third one, does come up. And it's straining. Everyone is aware that Al is gone, that he had failed the go/no-go course, and so everyone is pressured, feeling the heat.
The morning of the first day of it is hellish. As usual. It's still dark out. We're all getting dressed to head out to the usual physical training in the morning. Lynn is the oldest and most experienced of our friends, and she looks up and gives us a grim smile.
"Be careful to survive," she says brightly.
I give her a grim look in return. Even when she tries to be cheerful, she isn't. Lynn is always dismal, though. Biting. Sharp.
PT is hard on our bodies, as usual. But the soreness is used to now. It is all familiar, habitual. I don't feel the pain so sharply now.
Everything is scheduled, automatic here. I walk into the dining hall with the rest of my company like usual, look around for Tobias as I usually do, just to see that he's there. That he hasn't somehow disappeared.
I'm supposed to see him sitting with Lauren, his eyes searching for mine as well. So I'm startled when I see he's talking to someone. It's not someone I recognize. He has a gray pallor, short dark hair that is thin. He is talking as well, waving his hands around, and Tobias turns from him. His face shows that he is deathly annoyed with his father.
The man is Marcus.
Tobias hadn't told me that his father was going to be here. Not mentioned a word. Maybe his talking of his father was supposed to mean something, but I don't know what.
Tobias doesn't met my eyes during breakfast. He looks at his plate the entire time. I look away, annoyed. Fine.
We walk out of the dining hall. I expect us to head to our first class, but we're stopped before we can move more.
"Take them to the yard," Lauren tells Eric before hurrying away.
He bites his lip, plays with a ring before he turns and orders us ahead. Our feet thump in a rhythmic manner as we head out. Nobody notices how my hands curl and uncurl. Why are we being called out? Is there going to be a searching through us for someone? To publicly humiliate them in front of the company?
Something comes to mind. A thought that sends a wave of nausea through me; my breath catches and I feel like grabbing someone's shoulder to keep steady. Because the thought of what might be happening hits me full force.
What if we've been found out?
What if somehow, someone has found out about myself and Tobias? About what we do during our shifts? About our slowly growing relationship, which I am finding myself growing constantly to, caring about?
My heart pounds within me as we exit the building and take our positions in the yard. I'm one of dozens. I'm short. I'm lost in the company of neatly fixed together lines. They can't find me. I'm hidden. I'm invisible.
I've always thought I'm invisible. Someone you overlook for being too small, too plain. Hopefully I'm just being paranoid and am actually being right.
The drill sergeants come out. Eric, Tobias, Zeke, and Lauren. The four who are always with this company. Eric is viewing us with slitted eyes. Lauren looks stony, like she's wondering as well what we've done. Tobias looks like he a statue, like he knows something but knows that he shouldn't tell. All their backs are as straight as a rod. They're all disciplined like that.
Someone exits the dining hall. He wears his medals and pins, his name badge, a hat in the hot sun. He walks and addresses the drill sergeants. He sounds kind, but firm. Tobias looks at him with venom. I see him through his eyes, how his voice is dripping with poison, lies pouring from his lips as his facade gives him the look of a stern but respectful commander when he is anything but.
Commander Eaton then turns to us. I can see through the lines of people in front of me. He has grey stubble over the bottom half of his face, which is strange. The military are clean cut. He looks like he forgot to shave this morning.
He nods to us. "Good morning, recruits. I am Commander Marcus Eaton." He tells us where he is from, but I barely hear. My eyes may look to him, but they flit away to Tobias. He is looking at Marcus with such an expression that it makes me nervous. He looks so angry, like the man is the bane of his life. Which he probably is. He looks like he wants to slug him, but as he is a lower officer and in front of a bunch of trainees, he keeps his hands to himself and instead gulps thickly down his anger.
"I am going to watching your progress through the Warrior Phase of your training," Marcus says. I'm now officially on Team White or Team III. "I may not say much, but I will tell you if you are doing wrong. But don't be afraid of me." He turns to the drill sergeants. He has this smile on his face, one that looks mocking. "Be afraid of them."
Tobias looks not so controlled anymore. The mocking tone is so evidently towards him, but only the three of us get its meaning. Just Marcus, Tobias and me. That Marcus is pretending that Tobias is in a state of being feared for once when he will never be. Not when he's there.
Tobias looks directly at us. He avoids my eyes, which I am both annoyed and relieved by.
Marcus nods and leaves us in the capable hands of Lauren, Zeke, Tobias, and Eric. As if Eric's hands are capable.
I let out a sigh as we're divided and made to march back in lines to the dining hall to move through to the classroom. We're not found out. We're okay. Tobias would have signaled me if we had.
It's four days later when I finally get my shift with Tobias. But Eric was the one who set up the shifts, and I'm set up with Uriah, of all people, to watch with me. But at least it's not Peter. That's what I keep telling myself.
The lights dim. It's all quiet. I stand with Uriah, and I automatically salute Tobias when he comes up. He doesn't meet my eyes as he leans against the wall next to Uriah.
Uriah is a talkative guy. He would have talked a lot with me if Tobias wasn't here. He has to hold in the words as he looks casually from Tobias to myself. Great. He must have an inkling. So I won't give in to looking at Drill Sergeant Eaton. I won't. And I don't even feel like it. I don't want to look at him. Even if Uriah wasn't here, I wouldn't. I'm too angry. No warning about Marcus coming here. I wouldn't mind if we were just like a regular instructor and a regular trainee. But we're not. Because I agreed to his idea.
But no. We're in a personal relationship. He should have told me if his father was here. Told me. Talked to me. Marcus's presence is obvious in its effect on him. Tobias looks so nervous with him around. I can help, but he'd rather have his pain and nervousness to himself. That's selfish.
We do a few tasks. Carry notes. Check outside. Tobias opens his mouth a couple of times, but no words come out. I know that but I don't say anything about it. I feel too angry to just lash out and demand an answer. He has to notice and ask me first.
Eventually, maybe three hours into my shift, I hear his throat clear. "Prior. Follow me."
I don't ask where we are going. I already know. Besides, if I did, Uriah would notice that I'm being defiant again. He'd think that Tobias would yell at me.
I'd feel better if he did yell at me, actually. It'd mean something.
We come to the corridor. The walls are blank, white and dull and turned grey from the lighting. The floor is shiny.
He turns so he is facing me.
"Tris," he says.
I look away. I focus on the office doors away from me. I'd rather stare blankly away than look into his eyes and see what emotions he's allowing to swim in front of his face.
"Tris." His voice is hard now. Demanding.
"What, sir?" I turn my head to face him now.
"Don't call me that," he says, his voice indignant. "That's what I call my father. Don't you dare call me that."
"You mean the name of the father that you didn't bother telling me was coming here?" I say. My stomach suddenly turns, flips around like a stormy sea.
He looks startled. "I didn't know he was going to be here. He just came the night before he talked to you guys, while you were in the barracks. Eric brought him in. Believe me, I don't like that he is here. Sorry I wasn't able to tell you." The last is firmly sarcastic.
I stare at him now. "You had no idea he was going to be here? During our time at this fort? Did you know that he was going to come at all?" My tone turns hissy. "Tobias, when we were called out, I thought we were found out. The two of us."
Tobias shakes his head. "He doesn't care about me that much to think that I'd be with a girl. To me to defy him . . . he'd never think that'd be able to happen." He walks past me to the wall. He turns and leans against it, his hands planted against it. The gun hangs on him as he bows his head, leans it against the wall as well.
I don't know what to say, don't know what has happened to make him do this, and he suddenly says, his voice echoing in the silent hall:
"Do you really want to know why I don't want to talk about him? Because even the mention of him shakes me. My father makes me scared. I don't get scared easily, Tris, but he is the terror of my life. I feel vulnerable around him, out of control of myself, unable to protect myself."
I take a step forward, my breath catching as I decide whether I should talk to him or not. I exhale. "Tobias, you can trust me. Honestly."
"Honestly?" He lets out a scoff. Maybe half a chuckle, but I can feel anger rolling off him.
My voice turns stern. "Yes. Whether you like it or not, you're going to have trust me. We can't have a relationship based on physical pleasure. That's not something I can participate in." I want someone who's in for the personality, mental game as well.
I let out a soft sigh. "Please, Tobias." It's honestly paining me to see him like this. He's one of those guys that is always reliantly solid, strong, shielding his emotions. To see the walls crumble in front of me, while he's still trying to repair them, retain them, hurts me. Because he feels like he has to.
He turns to me suddenly. His face is full of a mix of colors.
"You want me to trust you, Tris? You want to know?" he says. He sounds so quiet.
Scared, I nod.
"He beat me. He physically abused me. He turned my childhood into a living hell." He clears his throat, looks down once more before meeting my scared eyes. "With a belt. And there were always these welts." He holds up a hand. Along his wrist I see many thin white scars. "These remind me of him. This is where his belt stung. And my mom was gone. She's been gone from my life for years. Because he caused her to do things I could barely understand." He closes his eyes. Lets out a sigh. "I've been haunted by him, paranoid because of him."
I can feel the pain radiating from him.
My hands move by their own accord. I don't realize what I'm doing as my body moves under his arched body and catches his back in my arms. My hold on him tightens as he stiffens, and then his hands hold onto me, gripping me like I'm the one thing he needs to keep himself together.
I don't say a word. I don't know what to say to that. My parents were never like that. They were strict but kind. Marcus is . . . he's a monster. To beat his own flesh and blood, his own son. And for what reason? How can he get out any satisfaction out of that, by causing pain?
It's sick. I can feel from the way Tobias clings to me that I'm the first he's told.
"You should report him to the army. How the hell did he get a job here?" I mutter, my voice getting lost against his neck.
"He's charismatic. His criminal record is clean. He performed well. They were instantly won over. Impressed," Tobias says, his voice sounding strangely raw.
I remember seeing defined muscles under Marcus's shirt. My throat tightens. My grip is tighter. My heart is pounding, having never had Tobias this close to me before, but I can feel the desperateness from him, and he overwhelms that fear that rises inside of me, so much that it recedes.
He steps back after a few minutes of me just holding him. His eyes are pink, but no tears are visible. His face is grey and tan and bruised under his eyes.
I let out a breath, dare to say, "Did he ever stop?"
"Beating me? No. I was too cowardly to stop him. He knew that I was. So he kept doing it." Tobias shudders. "I escaped when I was eighteen. I joined the army. Thought I could be stronger doing this. This would toughen me." He shakes his head. "All it's really done is make me tighten my emotions and hate the world of strictness even more."
"So why are you still here?" I say.
"It's familiar. I was going to leave, though. With a little honor, just serve out the rest of my years in the kitchens. Anything that doesn't have its bows and salutes and shouts and counting and chanting and yelling."
"You didn't move down in rank, though," I point out.
"Exactly." He looks at me, and though he isn't smiling, I can tell that he is admiring me. "You're the reason I didn't move down. I stayed here so I could keep an eye on you."
"Make sure that I didn't get to kill myself?" I say.
"Or fail," he says. He's still right in front of me. His breath is less labored, his countenance having no tension now. He leans forward. His forehead touches mine. His hands come up and clasp my shoulders in a grip that's not too tight but gripping, like he needs to hold onto me.
"I stayed because I was interested in you. In your well-being. In your military life. In you, Tris," Tobias says. His voice drops to below a whisper, barely audible, but loud enough to make the hairs on my arms stand. "You're the reason I'm still here, Tris."
That's a thank you if I ever heard one.
I shake my head. "If it wasn't for you, I would have failed my gun test. I would have been beat upon."
"You could have handled it without me. You're strong, Tris," Tobias says, his voice still soft.
"No," I say firmly. There's no debating the matter in my voice. "I needed you."
"Do . . . you still need me?" he asks.
I let out a breath. I feel like I'm holding in my breath, his close proximity sending mixed signals to my brain. Flight or fight. I have to choose one.
I choose fight. Fight the fear that is clutching me.
"I need you," I say, and I kiss him, and he holds me to him now. Still close, but I'm fighting back the alerts of skin against mine in my brain, my emotions overwhelming my fear. He's strong but crumbling, but coming back together. I'm strong, but I need a stronghold to hold onto.
And that's him. He's my stronghold.
:( I wanna kick Marcus's ass. That probably why I was in a surprised but cheering mood when Tobias did it in Insurgent.
Thanks for reading! Please review!