So, here's a new chapter. A couple of you asked for more of Tris and Tobias in the hospital, so maybe I'll do an outtake of that in the future. Anybody else have outtake ideas? I'm thinking about writing a couple visits between Tris and Caleb, and Four and Caleb, but I really have no idea how that would go. There was also a request for a Will/Christina outtake, I think. I don't know. Keep the ideas coming, guys. Maybe a good few of them will stick and we won't have to say goodbye to this story so soon. There's one loose end to tie up here, and then...

PS: David is just the owner of a bar. I got more than one of you freaking out over his appearance, but I promise he isn't going to screw everything up. He's just the guy that gave Four a job. No worries :) You guys should thank him, even.

And tip Tobias extra because he's a total DILF. ;)

Check me out... everywhere else. Lol. Twitter at talkingcarsrock, and wattpad with my same penname, and all that good stuff. Thanks for stopping by, and enjoy the ride.

~temporary insanity


"Remember this: your mom is the most beautiful woman on the planet. She's the sassiest, strongest, most badass girl you know. And, out of all the girls there are in the world, she loves you best."


When he sees his sister, Caleb's face lights up with a wide smile. "Tris!" She gives him a tired smile of her own, sitting down across from him. She's not even done sitting when the questions start. "Is he home yet? What's he look like? How are you? Do you have pictures? What did the doctors say? Does he cry a lot? Are you sleeping okay? You look exhausted."

"Gee thanks," Tris says, watching him practically bounce in his seat. "I'm sleeping fine... as fine as possible, anyway. Four's with him now, since he doesn't have his class until later. But I have to get home before he has to leave..."

"Zeke?"

"Working on the shop. He's got a lot of good ideas, a great business model. I just hope he doesn't get tangled up in any shady businesses."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, He and Uri learned unofficially about cars because some of their friends used to do underground racing. But Uri went to tech school and got certified and everything, so his business was legit. I just hope Zeke keeps it that way."

"Ahh. Nah, I think Zeke is done with all aspects of that life. He'll keep it simple." Caleb smiles reassuringly. "Well let me see, dammit!"

Tris laughs and pulls a small pile of printed photos out of her back pocket. "You're so impatient."

"I want to see my nephew, leave me alone." The first photo is of just the baby, his bright eyes staring curiously toward the camera. A tiny yellow hat is on his head, and he's wearing yellow, gray, and blue pajamas that feature a whale applique emblazoned across his tiny chest. Caleb smiles widely. The blue of the soft fabric makes his eyes look incandescent.

The next photo is different. It's clear that this photo was taken in the hospital. The baby has a white diaper and a white onesie, and a white hat. His face is pressed firmly into Four's chest, his tiny fists looking like they would clutch at his father's shirt if he could—or if he knew how. Four holds him tightly, looking down at him with a mixture of love and anxiety. There's a tiny tube stretching from somewhere off-camera to the little one's face.

Tris bears a similar expression in the next photo. Her smile is strained as she holds the baby close. His head is covered in a tiny white hat again, but this time he wears nothing except the diaper, which dwarfs him to the point where he looks kind of like an ant.

He laughs at a photo with Zeke making a face while changing a diaper, and there's one one with all four of them together. His favorite is one of Tris kissing the baby's feet. Tris giggles with him over each one, telling him story after story of little Uriah Caleb, his journey in the hospital and all that madness that has happened since he was released.

There's a photo of them at home. The baby lays snugly in Tris's arms, and she smiles beautifully at him. Four is next to her, his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed to her temple. "You... you make a beautiful family," Caleb says quietly. "I can't believe it, you know?"

"Oh I know," Tris laughs. "It's kind of surreal. But... We're happy. Tobias has been amazing. He's working so hard with classes during the day and working at night, and now the baby... but he does it all without complaint. He is... he's been so strong."

"So have you, Bee. You're stronger than anybody I know."


When Four arrives at home to change for work, he's surprised by the quiet. "Anyone home? Hello?"

He goes straight for the baby's room. Not finding him, he swallows. "Hey, where the fuck is everyone? Hello?!" He moves into his room next. "Tris?" It's empty. "Tris! W-where—"

"What? What?!" Tris bursts through the door, baby carrier in one hand and diaper bag over her shoulder. She looks flustered.

He races to the door immediately, taking the baby and the bag. "Oh—hey, there you are. Hey little man," he says with relief in his voice, putting the carrier down and lifting his son into his arms. The baby coos a little, snuffling and letting out a little huff. "What? Am I interrupting your nap?"

Tris rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, right back atcha, kid."

"What mom said," Tobias grins. He gets another little huff for his comment, and he laughs. "Hey, quit your huffing, you. Remember I told you that you can't out-sass your mother."

Tris smiles and sits down on the couch, slipping her arm out of her sleeve and the strap of her bra. He sits next to her and watches her feed him. It still feels like an impossibility to be sitting next to this beautiful girl, watching her feed their son. He swallows and gently readjusts the baby's hat. In the hospital, his favorite thing to do was to watch him sleep on Tris's chest. He curled into her in that way that babies do, reveling in the security that only a mother's warmth can give them. He always sat next to her, because she could never sleep with him. She always jerked awake, afraid of dropping him or holding him wrong in her sleep.

He could sit there for hours, watching their breaths. When he was in NICU, the baby's breaths were loud, fast, and shallow. It set his teeth on edge to hear his son struggle to breathe properly. He's sure the sound has made it into some of his nightmares, but he can't recall any.

When he absolutely can't sit there for another minute without being late, he presses his lips to Tris's hair. "I have to get dressed for work, Little Sparkler. I love you."

"I love you too. Tomorrow I'm taking Uriah for the follow up with his pediatrician."

"Want me to come?"

"No, you'll be in class. I'll call you when I get home?"

"Of course, Baby. I love you."

"I love you too."

As he quickly redresses, he smiles. He'll never regret anything that led to this moment. Not ever.


Gloss is a bit slow today. It shouldn't be, but well... who knows. He and David decide to take a ten together. They each pop open a beer and tap the necks together. "What should we drink to?"

"To a good night's rest," Tobias says immediately, and David laughs.

"I remember those days all too well."

"You have kids?"

"Yes, I do," David says proudly. His eyes are sad, though. "My son is twenty-three. He's finishing his bachelor's in engineering this year. My daughter..." he takes a long swig of his beer. "Well, when she was sixteen, she met a boy. You know how that goes."

Tobias nods. "Uh-oh. Was he an asshole?"

"He was a respectable young man. But he came from one of those... less than privelaged neighborhoods, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, my best friend grew up in Inglewood."

"Rough part of town," David agrees.

"He was Dauntless."

David nods. "So you know, then."

"He was lucky he was Dauntless. Some of those other gangs..."

"A gang is a gang," David says tersely.

Four shrugs. "I don't know. Everything I learned about self-reliance and responsibility, I learned from Dauntless. My father didn't give two shits about me, as well you know. And when it came time for me to actually learn about being on my own, I was already on the streets, doing whatever I had to do to survive. Managing bills and a place to live, balancing my accounts and all of that stuff—I learned all of that from them. They pretty much educated me. A lot of us, really. It's... too bad that they were what they were. Because they could have been something good instead. And they would have been unstoppable."

David watches him thoughtfully. "Maybe so."

"But any story that starts with a gang, even one like Dauntless, ends badly. Everyone that manages to get out alive always wishes they'd seen it coming. I know I do. I would have wasted away in jail if it weren't for Tris."

"Well, the young man's older brother was involved in one of those gangs. A war broke out—some kind of turf war... who knows, it was all irrelevant. All I care about is that my baby girl was in the back seat of the brother's car with her boyfriend when other cars boxed them in and opened fire. She and her young man did not survive the gun fight."

Tobias feels himself crumpling over as his stomach twists. He imagines Tris's blue-gray eyes, blank with death. Her face and clothes spattered with blood, her hair matted and limp. He remembers the anguish he felt when he was waiting to hear her fate after Eric shot her, and then his horror doubles as he replaces that image with an image of his son. He imagines being at home or at work and picking up the phone. "I'm so sorry to inform you, Mr. Johnson..."

"Holy fuck," he chokes out, shaking his head to dispel the horrible end of that imaginary phone call.

David nods, finishing his beer and getting another. "That was years ago."

"I'm sorry," he says. There isn't really anything to say. There aren't words that can wash away the kind of horror that washed through him at only the thought, let alone David, who actually had to live through that kind of hell. He imagined that it was a continuous, slow burning hell, because he'd only known his son for about a month and he couldn't get his sweet little face out of his mind if he wanted to. If David thought of his kids as often as Tobias did, then a knife twisted in his chest every time he remembered the part where his little girl got shot to death.

Jesus.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's not worth it. Just... always do your best for your son, and you'll have no regrets. No matter what."

Tobias nods. "I'll drink to that."

David pats his arm. "I'm glad for you. I'm glad you got away from that life. I'm glad that it didn't take you."

He nods. "Zeke too. I think he was just... desperate. I mean, I know I was. And I made real good money in Dauntless. I guess... I guess it seems glamorous from the outside. The tatts, the money, the girls... seems badass, you know?"

"Lots of those boys are desperate. And you're right. It does seem glamorous. What no one understands is the cost."

Tobias smiles as he finishes his bottle. "But you know what? For Tris... I wouldn't change a thing. If not being in Dauntless would have meant that I wouldn't have met her, not have met Chris and Will, not have had my son... I'd do it all over again."

"To being a father," David says, opening another beer and offering it to Tobias.

"To being a father," Tobias repeats.

Getting home at the end of the night, checks in on Zeke, and goes to his room. He frowns when he doesn't see Tris. He walks back out. "Hey Zeke, where are Tris and the baby?"

"I don't know man. Short Stuff said she'd call when she got out of her appointment. She didn't call. I thought she probably went to Chris's and got held up. Chris is nuts with your kid, man."

"Well he's a cute kid, what can I say?" Four dials Tris's number, but it goes straight to voicemail. "Damnit, Tris. What have I told you about letting your phone die, baby? Where are you? I'm home early. It's eleven thirty and you're not here? Call me, okay? I need to know where you are. I love you."

He hangs up and then jumps when his phone vibrates immediately in his hand. To his surprise, it's Tris. "Tris? Baby where—"

"You know, you'd make a terrible husband. Why did it take you so long to call your whore to see where she is, hmm?"

Tobias glares. If he could kill over the phone, the person on the other end would be long dead. "What the fuck do you want, Marcus? Where is Tris?!"

"Oh her? She and your bastard kid are... somewhere. If you want a chance at getting them back, maybe you and I should agree to meet."

"Fuck you! I'm not agreeing to anything until I can talk to Tris."

"Well I guess you won't be seeing your whore and your little bastard again—"

"Stop calling her that! Stop—stop fucking talking about them like that. That is my family, and I'm going to treat them a million times better than you ever treated me. Tris isn't a whore. I'm going to marry her. And so help me God if you think you can harm her without me killing you, you're going to know the pain you inflicted on me all my life before you die."

"Wow, listen to you. It seems we are not so different after all. If you're not at the address I will send you by noon tomorrow, Tris will know the pain I inflicted on you your whole life. If you show up with cops, I'm going to throw your stupid baby in the river. Do not try me, Tobias." He hangs up before Four can say anything else.


She should have seen it coming, really. Everything had been going well for too long. She was overdue for a disaster. She clicked the carrier into its place as a car seat and turned around to find a gun in her face. Somebody else was already getting the baby back out of the car.

She didn't dare try to scream or fight, because one of the men was carrying the baby. They knew she wouldn't fight if they got to him before she could. They were counting on him being a weakness. They didn't count on him being her strength. She just had to bide her time.

Once again, they were stupid. They didn't take her purse and diaper bag away. As discreetly and quickly as she could, she typed a message.

Gray van. No windows. Four men with masks. Lic plate started with '5J0' and is not an Illinois plate. Do not respond.

Under the guise of checking on the baby, she took a photo of the rug and made sure her location service was on. She took and sent one photo every few minutes until the van stopped. Shoving it in her purse before they could see, she grabbed the carrier on her own this time. They yanked it away from her, and she glared murderously.

They dragged her into what seemed like a loading dock for trucks by one arm and once they were deep inside the warehouse, they plopped her into a chair, making sure she was taped down securely.

"Hey! Where are you taking my baby?!" She yelled at them. "Answer me, assholes! Where are you taking him?"

The men shrugged and left her to struggle against the tape. She didn't have to wait long for something to happen.

"Beatrice..."

"You? What are you doing here?! Aren't you supposed to be in jail?"

"My sentence was deferred until the end of Marcus's trials—all of them. Naturally, that hasn't come to pass. Are you hurt?"

"What do you care? Where are they taking my son?"

"Oh Beatrice you don't pretend to actually keep the bastard child of a gangbanger, do you?"

"Oh, you mean your best friend's grandson?"

A shrug. "I will personally make sure he is placed in a good home. You are coming with me. Marcus assured me that you would be safe."

"Good home my ass! If you think you can take my baby away—"

"Now, calm down, Beatrice."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" she shrieks. "If you think Marcus words are anything other than complete bullshit, you're dumber than I thought, Andrew."

"Don't be rude to me. I'm still your father, and I just saved your life."

"You let your buddy take my away from my home and shove my child into the back of a van without proper safety for either of us. You better pray to God Four doesn't find you."

"Four will be busy mending his own relationship with his father. He shouldn't have abandoned his home the way he did."

"You haven't seen the scars on his back! You don't know what he suffered through. But you don't care, do you? You helped your stupid asshole friend bury Evelyn after he murdered her, and all you got for it was jail time. And you're still helping him, over protecting your own family. Did you know that he had Caleb attacked? Do you even care?"

"I did the best I—"

"No. Don't give me that shit," Tris hisses venomously. "I don't want to hear it. You were never there for me. I fended for myself. Caleb fended for himself. You never gave a shit about me. You deprived me of a father, and now you're going to help him do the same to my son. You're a waste of a human being. You don't deserve my respect and you don't deserve my gratitude. I hate you. Do you hear me?! I fucking hate you!"

She isn't done screaming the last part before his hand lashes out, striking her face so hard that lights shoot through her vision. She glares up at him with tears in her eyes, and he stares back, emotionless.

Then Marcus steps into the dismal space. "He finally called. We can get rid of her now."

"W-wait... what?"

"I mean that I am going to finally teach that idiot son of mine a lesson. But he isn't to see her. Kill her now and dump her and that stupid baby in the river."

"You expect me to kill my daughter?"

"I expect you to do what I tell you."

Tris rolls her eyes. "Look at that. St. Marcus the perfect one, the one who can do no wrong, right? Marcus is the best politician I've ever met, you say. Marcus is a good man. All my life that's all I ever heard. Look! Look at what your blind, idiotic loyalty got you. Your son is in prison and your 'friend' thinks it's okay for you to kill your only daughter and grandson and throw us away like garbage."

Andrew swallows. "I'm not going to harm her."

"Then I'll do it."

"I thought the deal was that we would move to Milwaukee while you dealt with your son!"

"The plan changed," Marcus says simply.

Tris spits at him. "If you think I'm going to lay down and die, let me remind you that I've been shot in two major arteries and lived to tell. So let me just say fuck you in advance, okay? Fuck you."

"Bring the kid."

Tris feels all the blood drain from her face. Some of the masked men from earlier bring the carrier, dropping it on the floor. The baby jolts awake and lets out a sharp cry, the kind that all her insides protest to.

Marcus grins maniacally. "If you don't want me to carve up this little shit and feed it to you, you're going to keep your mouth shut for the remainder of your time here. One word and I swear I'll cut your damned baby into pieces in front of you."

Tris glares, but remains silent.

Marcus smiles, satisfied. "Good girl. Now I'm going to finish my preparations. Call me if something comes up. My men are staying with you so... you know. Get rid of her. They'll leave the bodies wherever you tell them to, but don't you dare try to fuck this up. They'll kill the three of you. They have orders."

Andrew swallows and nods. "Anything you say," he says hoarsely.