After Tris and Clara left, I sat on the couch, trying to ignore the numbing pain running up my back. Then I eventually made myself move, getting up and walking into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water and grabbed a Panadol, popping the pill into my mouth and then washing it down with the water. I sighed heavily as the medicine kicked in, soothing my sore, aching muscles, kneading out the dull pain until it was completely gone, all traces of the pain that spending a night on the couch had caused.

I sighed an raked a hand through my hair quickly as I walked upstairs to my room, where the covers on my bed were turned back, as if Tris had left in a hurry. I smiled, guessing that the whole 'Tris needs clothes' thing was Clara's idea, something to get her out of the house.

I walked over to the bed and flipped the covers back towards the bedhead, watching as they settled against the mattress. As I turned away from the bed, grabbing the first set of clothes that I could find – jeans and a dark blue, almost black shirt – I found myself recalling the night that Tris told me that she was pregnant with Clara. Although I hadn't thought about that night for years, I'd forever remembered it as one of three nights that changed my life. The first was the night I'd taken Tris into my fear landscape with me, the second being the for mentioned evening in which Tris showed up at my bedroom at some ridiculous hour and told me she was pregnant with my child, and the final being the night we returned to what was left of the Bureau after Tris set off the memory serum, only to find the Tris had died and all I had left of her was a traitor of a brother who I could barely bring myself to look at, and a little baby girl with Tris' eyes.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, combing my fingers through my hair absent-mindedly, I realised that I had another night to add to that list. Last night, once again, had changed my life. Tris returning the way that she had, so abruptly and suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, had changed the dynamic of life in Chicago once again, and with her return so closely linked to Marcus', I knew that something was coming. I didn't doubt Tris' intentions for a second, but I knew that Marcus being here at the same time was no coincidence. It had been a very long time since I'd believed in coincidences.

Tris and Clara walked back through the front door no less than an hour and a half later, their hands full of bags. Clara took Tris' bags from her and bounded up the stairs with them, the bags practically falling from her hands. I wondered if maybe Clara had grown an extra finger on each hand in the past hour or so – I couldn't see how it was humanly possible to hold that many bags.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, turning to look at Tris. "How much did you two buy?"

Tris laughed, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned against the kitchen table. "Don't ask, Tobias. Just . . . don't ask."

I smiled, shaking my head. "I figured you'd be gone longer than that."

Tris nodded, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "We would have been out longer than this, if . . ." she took a deep breath, her eyes peeking at me through the blanket of blonde hair that had fallen across her eyes. "If I'd gone to see Caleb. But, I . . . I figured you wouldn't want Clara around to see that."

I nodded, leaning on the counter towards her. Even if she didn't know it, Tris' maternal instinct was switched on, especially when it came to Clara. It might have been just wishful thinking on my part, but I was sure that Tris being unwilling to have Clara around while she reunited with Caleb was just as much her own unwillingness as knowing that I wouldn't want Clara there.

"Do you want me to take you?" I asked.

Tris stared at me for a moment, as if that was the last thing she expected me to say. Then, she said, "You don't have to. I can walk."

"Do you have any idea where he lives?" I asked, smiling in amusement.

Tris shook her head, ducking her head as she mumbled, "I would have figured it out."

"I'm sure you would've," I told her, straightening up. "I'll go tell Clara that we're going and then we'll go, alright?"

"Okay," Tris said. "How's your back?"

I shrugged. "Okay. I took some stuff for it, so it's alright."

Tris smiled. "I can take the couch again, if you want."

"Nonsense." I told her, before I bounded up the stairs, walking down the hallway and into Clara's room. Clara was sitting on her bed, her nose buried in a book, and I knocked on the door four times, four solid raps of my knuckles against the doorframe, to which Clara looked up.

"Tris and I are going out for a bit. Will you be alright here on your own?"

Clara nodded. "I'm sixteen. I'll be fine, Dad. Where are you going?"

I sighed. "Tris wants to go see Caleb. She hasn't had a chance to see him yet."

Clara nodded again, but then her brow furrowed, a crease forming between her eyebrows as they pulled together. "Wait. How does she know Uncle Caleb?"

For a split second, I found myself caught between the decision on whether or not to tell her. "I'll tell you later, Clara. It's not important right now."

Clara nodded. "Dad, if this Marcus guy shows up – "

"You call me straight away, Clara." I told her, moving towards the bed. "You call me and we'll be home as soon as possible, alright? But I don't think he'll show up here just yet."

Clara nodded, and I dropped a kiss down on her forehead. "I love you. I'll see you later."

Clara nodded, mumbling a reply after me as I walked out, the hundred possible versions of Tris' reunion with Caleb all running through my head at the same time.