A/N: Anyone still out there? I hope so. I never intended to take so long between updates, but life has been very...complicated...recently. I was also stuck on this for a really long time, because I never felt like Insurgent explained why Tobias suddenly became so willing to reconcile with his mother and work with her. It bugged me. A lot. This (finally) is the result. Thanks to LolaBleu for dealing with my cranky moods and doing beta duty on this chapter. And KF readers, if you're still out there, let me know and review. Reviews keep me writing, and I appreciate each and every one. I really do. Thanks for reading and sticking with me.

peace

~wk

PS: This chapter contains shameless references to two of my other stories - a group of hackers mentioned in "Destroying Lives," and Four's aptitude test in "As Expected." You can check them out if you haven't read them.

The day dawns watery and grim, a meek sunrise that can't seem to burn through the fog. Outside and inside, I am surrounded by grey. Tris is still asleep, her body barely there beneath the blankets. I watch her chest rise and fall, counting her breaths, syncing them with mine.

She is alive, and she loves me.

Last night, we stumbled from the bathroom into my bedroom, soaking wet and clutching each other. I kissed her in the moonlight and she put my hand over her heart, so I could feel it beating. I tasted the tears that still leaked from her eyes.

I want to kiss her awake, but in the weak light of morning the grey walls bring me up short. It seems wrong to see her here, all creamy skin and bare shoulders, sleeping peacefully in this place, ground zero for all of my nightmares. But even if we weren't in Marcus's house, it would still feel weird to love her in Abnegation, the home of humility and denial, not desire. My love for Tris is full of need and want and feeling – it's selfish and visceral and Dauntless, hurtling headfirst into the void, leaping off trains without looking, closing your eyes as a knife spins toward your heart. It's giving up my life for her, but making damn sure I die fighting.

My eyes find the patch of blue dye on her arm, a vivid stain more vibrant than the eye tattooed on my back. My stomach clenches with a more familiar emotion for this room.

Rage.

The Erudite have left their mark on both of us.

I walk out on to the porch in search of some air, a glimpse of green in place of grey.

Someone is already sitting there.

"Tobias," says my mother. "We need to talk."

"I slept just fine after a week of being tortured and interrogated, Evelyn. Thanks for asking."

She sighs and motions to the chair next to her, staring me down until I sit. "I worried about you. You know that." she says, her voice softening. "But it worked, didn't it? You found the control rooms. And Tris is alive."

"No thanks to me. Or you."

Evelyn puts her hand on my arm. "Don't blame yourself," she says. "I don't need you to tell me what happened. Our spies already have. Tris hastened her own execution. She attacked Jeanine. She had to know there would be consequences."

I nod stiffly. I'm not sure why my mother has such disdain for my girlfriend. There must be an angle to it. She seems to have one for everything else.

"She knew," I say, with a note of pride, remembering Jeanine's battered face and wild eyes. "And she was prepared to accept them."

"Were you?"

I don't answer her, or meet her gaze. She finally turns, looking out down the street, towards the Brewster house where Marcus has been staying. "Maybe she didn't want to be rescued."

I roll my eyes. I don't need my mother to tell me that Tris has a death wish. We've been fighting about it for months.

"Mother," I snap. Her head swings around at the word. "What Tris wants is none of your business. So stay out of it."

"If your emotions affect your decision making, it is my business. We are allies after all."

Suddenly, I am furious again. I am sick of trusting no one, of questioning everyone's motives, even the people who are supposed to care about me. If I didn't have Tris, I would go hop the fence right now and leave this cesspool of a city behind. But I do have Tris. I know exactly who she is, and her motives are pure. The only way I'm leaving her is in a body bag.

"I am fighting against anyone who condones mind control and murder. I'm fighting for people who can't fight for themselves. That's all I care about. If any of your factionless friends can't get behind that, they need to leave. Now."

"You don't understand us at all," my mother says. "Anyone who has to live the way we do, without a faction, without support or family…" She looks at me, her dark eyes burning into mine. "We are all victims – of rejection, of brutality, or just stepping out of line. Of control. All of us, including me. And you."

I stand up and start to pace, angry. "I'm not a child, Evelyn, and I'm not a victim. I couldn't live my life thinking of myself that way. And neither should you."

"You're right."

The tone of her voice surprises me. It is soothing, soft, a long dead memory of how she used to be. She walks over to me and puts her hand on my arm again. This time, I don't shake it off.

"I'm proud of you, you know. You learned how to stand up for yourself, to make your own life, to excel. You learned how to be a leader, without being a bully."

Her mouth lifts in that small smile unique to the Abnegation, who understand that paying someone a compliment can make them uncomfortable. For the first time in years, I see the part of her that once chose to wear grey. And it does make me uncomfortable – the praise, the dig at Marcus, that she's comparing us at all.

Maybe I am being too harsh with her. I have never had this before, a parent expressing something other than scorn. I have also never seen Evelyn look so sincere. Maybe she means it.

Maybe she'll say anything to get what she wants.

I rub my face in irritation. She is right about one thing. We are at war, and I can't let my emotions influence my decisions. But for once, Tris isn't the problem – she is.

"What do you need from us?" I ask her.

"Exactly what you would expect, I imagine," she says, all business again. "Experienced fighters. Training. Weapons."

I nod. "We'll get your people ready."

"I want you to work with the Faceless, to make sure the Erudite data is destroyed."

"No way. They're total anarchists. They'll hack the hell out of the system and hide whatever they feel like keeping."

"You can supervise them personally."

I sigh. The closer this comes to reality, the more extreme it seems. "Do you really have to unleash the virtual apocalypse? Some of that is useful information. Medical technology, cultural records –"

"You agreed to this."

"I know. I also know that data is the only thing an Erudite would die for. I've seen…" I pause, swallowing hard, remembering Tris wincing at a gun in a Candor bathroom sink, Shauna's blood dripping down my back, my bullet slamming into a guard's chest, the dull thud of Eric's body hitting the floor. "I've done…enough killing."

"They started the killing, Tobias. Their technology made this war possible. If it isn't destroyed, it will happen again."

It is logical, like the faction she came from. But it doesn't hide the vengeful glint in her eye. The factionless have been marginalized and desperate for longer than I've been alive. Their desire for power is legitimate, but my mother's means to that end could result in chaos.

I look down the street, the squat grey houses and spare, simple yards, the place that formed me, a place of order and courtesy and industry. Now, it is full of broken windows and bullet holes, frightened children and untrained fighters armed with clubs. Next door, a half-naked factionless man is taking a shower with a garden hose.

Chaos is already here.

"This city is corrupt, and inflexible, and inhumane. The faction system is dead, Tobias. Help me put it out of its misery."

She talks as if she's putting down a dog. My mind flashes back to my aptitude test, standing over that snarling, simulated beast with knife in hand. I didn't kill the dog, not at first. I tried to tame it, and I thought it worked – until it attacked someone I cared about.

That's when I slit its throat.

"Yeah," I say slowly. "It's time for a change."

Through the open window, I hear coughing and murmurs. People are waking up; the house is much fuller than I realized last night. My mother straightens up and smiles at me.

"You can start by meeting some of the people you'll lead. Most of them have been camping out in our basement."

I scowl at her. "If Edward calls me Toby again I will punch him."

She shrugs. "Feel free. Somebody punches him at least once a day anyway, and he usually deserves it."

I feel like I am being pulled into another initiation, making yet another choice. Except this time I'm not running away from problems - I'm creating more of them. The war has to end. The system has to change. I have to find a way to contain the chaos.

Evelyn beckons to me as she steps inside.

She leaves the door open.