Hello! I am sorry for such a late update, but it's still Thursday somewhere in the world, right? I hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for all of your reviews last chapter! It was such a great response and so wonderful to see just how many of you really are invested in this story. I do hope you only continue to enjoy where this goes

As always, thank you for my wonderful editor BK2U for her constant dedication with this fic and all of the time she puts into it. Another busy weekend ahead of me but I do intend to try and make sure to update again by Monday. Have a lovely weekend everyone!

The stifled sob on the other end of the line finally snaps him back to the present. Tobias's mind is moving too swiftly for him to comprehend each thought as it passes. He wonders about everything, from how she got his number to why she was on the other end crying. His heart hurts as she hiccups through a sob. "Tris?" he asks urgently. "Tris, are you okay?"

All thoughts of sleep vanish from his mind as he holds the phone closely to his ear and begins to pace. His free hand runs through his hair as he walks back and forth from the start of the island to the wall of his living room. Island to wall, island to wall.

"I think I need you to come get me," she says quietly on the other end of the line, her voice choked.

Even after all of the hurt she has put him through and the anger he has felt towards her, these are the only words necessary to make him jump into action. "I'm already on my way," he promises whilst he rushes to find pants to pull on and slips a shirt over his head quickly, not caring if anything is inside out or backwards. "Where are you?"

She doesn't reply at first and the silence sends chills through his body. "I'm in a McDonald's," she answers shakily. He breathes a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice and begins pulling on his socks.

"The one on McClurg or East Garfield?" he questions as he darts back out of his room to throw on his coat and shove his feet into his sneakers.

His instinct is to dart out the door and into the elevator to try and get to her as quickly as possible, but of course the damned landline holds him frozen in the doorway. "I can be there in no time, just tell me where you are," he pleads as she cries. "I'm in Columbus," she finally says in a near-whisper.

"What?" he asks incredulously. He'd seen the signs for Columbus on the highway before. "As in Columbus, Indiana?" Again he feels the familiar panic.

"Yes," she says quietly, and he wants nothing more than to ask her how the hell she made it to a completely different state. He holds his tongue.

However, he does sigh as he turns back to his room in order to snatch his phone off his bedside table. He is going to need GPS to find her. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'm so sorry," she says, and he can envision her biting her lip and looking down at the ground as she speaks. "I didn't know who else to call." The utter defeat in her voice stirs something in him.

"You can always call me, Tris," he promises her. "I'm on my way, but write down my cell phone number so you can get a hold of me if you need to." He relays the number to her as he grabs some of her things from the trash bag he'd stuffed in the closet. Thank God he hadn't thrown everything out in his despair.

"I'm in the McDonald's on 3rd street," she adds. He longs to be magically transported there, to just fix whatever has broken her and bring her home where she belongs, this time for good. At the end of this he fervently hopes that she won't just turn him away again.

He snags his keys off of the coffee table and buttons his coat securely. "You stay there and call if you need anything, okay?" he asks, trying to reinforce the importance of it to her. He doesn't know whose phone she is using but he is very much aware that once they hang up he will likely not be speaking to her for a few hours.

She acknowledges his instructions without argument and he thanks her, relief coursing through him. "See you when you get here," she says quietly.

"Yeah," he agrees. "And Tris?" She makes a small "hmm" sound on the other end and he smiles softly. It has finally registered through the chaos of these moments that this is her voice once again. "It's going to be okay."

With that he hangs up the phone and darts out to his car, desperate to get to her as quickly as possible.

It takes a few tries to get his phone to locate the correct McDonald's in Columbus. Once his GPS is programmed and spitting out instructions he throws the car into drive and makes his way out of the parking garage and out onto the street.

The glowing clock on the dashboard tells him that it is four in the morning. Never has he been so grateful for the absence of traffic than he is now as he navigates the empty streets, barely having to stop at all as he makes his way to the highway. He merges onto I-90 and quickly increases his speed, unconcerned about cops or speeding tickets. His GPS indicates that it will take him nearly four hours to get to Tris. He intends to decrease that number.

The music from the radio makes him restless so he sits in silence most of the way, his thoughts consumed by Tris. He worries about what could have happened to her and then he worries about what will happen between the two of them once they're reunited. It's selfish, but he can't shake the thought of what it will do to him if he drives all this way and rescues her from whatever problem she is having only to have her turn away from him again. It might actually destroy him once and for all.

Eventually he forces himself to stop thinking about it. All those thoughts can do is make him even crazier than he already is. He glances down at his phone periodically, confirming that he hasn't managed to miss a call from Tris. Late night gives way to early morning as the sky changes from black to navy blue with a stripe of gold on the horizon. He focuses on the morning sky instead of Tris for as long as he can.

The gentle rocking of the car does little to calm his nerves. At least his anxiety is helping to keep him from falling asleep as he drives. As time passes, traffic grows heavier. He reluctantly slows down and is pleased to see he only has a bit longer to go on the monotonous highway.

At first he tries to keep his speed up by weaving in and out of traffic but ultimately decides to abandon that tactic when a truck almost merges into him. It really won't do Tris any good if he's dead.

His thoughts continue to drift to Tris and what could have happened to her, certain it must be something just terrible. She wouldn't have called him unless she was desperate. Their last separation solidifies that belief in his mind. He cycles through possible causes, including injuries and illness and the police. He considers her bout of pneumonia just a few weeks ago and the distance she has travelled. No way did she walk this far in just a week. But if she had somehow managed it…perhaps she had injured her foot. Then he thinks of the unspeakable things, of the awful troubles she could have gotten herself into. He goes back to watching the sky.

When at last he reaches exit 68 the sun has fully risen. He follows the twists and turns ordered by the GPS until finally, thankfully, he pulls up to a McDonald's. The resplendent golden arches have never been such a welcome sight to see.

Due to the early hour the drive thru is backed up with the breakfast rush. The parking lot is spacious but busy with the other drivers who have made their way here from the highway. He parks his car in the first available space and messes with his hair in the rear view mirror for a moment before he climbs out onto stiff legs.

Taking a deep breath of the icy cold air, he makes his way to the front door and opens it wide.

At first he sees nothing but a mob of people waiting in line for their morning coffee. The scent of fake sausage and old French fries assaults his nose. He scans the restaurant desperately but with no results. His heart sinks when he doesn't see her. A second glance, however, reveals a foot poking out past a divider, clad in the now dirty black and white Converse sneakers that he recalls buying with Tris only a few weeks ago.

The smile of relief that spreads across his face is involuntary.

Once he rounds the corner and sees her it vanishes.

"Hey," she says quietly as he fights the urge to vomit. Her face is bloodied and bruised. One of her eyes is nearly swollen shut and coloured a deep purple that spreads down to her cheek. She sits with her back to the wall and draws her knees up to her chest in the booth. Tobias can see the dried blood under her nose and notes that it is on her hands and clothes, too. She's dirty, still clad in the same clothes she was wearing when she left, and her hair looks like it has suffered right along with the rest of her.

"Oh, Tris," he murmurs softly, not even trying to hide the sadness in his voice. Tears sting his eyes, but he blinks them away before they can make an appearance.

She bites her lip before she looks up at him. "I'm so sorry," she says as she stares straight into his eyes, trying to impress upon him just how apologetic she is from that look alone. "I just didn't know what else to do and I didn't have enough for the bus and I was scared…I'm sorry," she finishes, hanging her head.

In all the time he has known her, Tobias has never once seen her show fear. To hear her admit it now makes him realize the gravity of the situation that much more.

"Don't apologise," he says gently as he watches her for a moment more before extending his hand to help her out. "Come on, let's go home."

She doesn't even hesitate as she reaches out for him, though she does wince. Her hand grips his tightly and Tobias clasps hers with as much strength as he can, grateful to be near her again.

She flinches as soon as she's on her feet and Tobias worries about what the extent of her injuries might be. "Put your arm around my shoulder," he instructs, as he stoops over a significant amount to allow her to snake her short arm around him.

Together they slowly start to make their way out of the restaurant. Tobias can feel everyone's eyes on them and does his best to ignore it. Surely they had all sorts of questions. He even sees two cops standing and eating their hash browns who give a glance their way but don't say anything. It dawns on him just how many people in this world are cowards. Too timid to even offer to help a broken and battered girl. For all they knew, he was carrying her off to inflict more torture. And no one even bothers to say a word.

When they reach his car, he unlocks it and brings her to the passenger side, carefully helping her get in and buckled before going around and settling himself in the driver's seat.

He starts the still-warm engine and blasts high heat through the vents in an effort to combat the cold and decrease their shivering. Tobias wonders if he will ever stop shivering. Every time he looks over at Tris another chill runs through his body.

Neither of them speaks as he backs out of the parking spot then swings back onto the road, making his way toward I-65 North.

As they sit at a red light, Tris leans forward and turns on the radio, quickly switching the station from unrelenting static to some sort of rock song. She doesn't sing along like she did the night they danced in his bedroom. She just stares out the window and avoids his gaze.

Once they pull onto the highway there's a sea of bright red brake lights. Figures that now would be when he hits peak traffic.

For a long while they both sit in silence. The music hovers in the space between them, filling the gaping holes where there should be words. Tris fidgets and then winces. Tobias sighs with impatience. Suddenly the car seems much smaller and he can feel the atmosphere becoming claustrophobic. The weight of his unspoken questions lies heavily, threatening to crush him.

Twenty minutes later he can stand it no more, and he reaches over and switches off the music. Tris just looks over at him, but doesn't protest. "What happened?" he finally asks. He'd been worried he would sound too harsh. Instead he sounds like he's nearly begging her to answer.

Tris doesn't speak at first. He watches her twist the end of her sleeves in her fingers over and over from the corner of his eye. "You owe me an explanation." He doesn't like holding that over her head. At no time had he ever wanted her to feel like she owed him anything. Kindness was what he had always tried to exhibit with her. But at this point, after all she had done to him and what had lead him here today, he firmly believes that he deserves at least this one small thing from her.

She clears her throat before beginning. "After I left your place on Saturday morning I didn't really know where to go." Tobias fights the urge to demand why she had left in the first place, deciding to hold his tongue and let her get this out first. "At first I went back to my old spot and tried to settle in there. I couldn't relax, though. It didn't feel right anymore. So I started to wander the city, trying to kill some time and organise my thoughts."

While he had lain crippled in bed, distraught over her sudden exit, she had seemingly only left for a change of scenery. Tobias is struggling to wrap his head around her reasoning.

"Well, the more I kept going the more I regretted what happened between us," she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth. "I wanted to just go back and apologise and make everything better."

Oh, how he wished she would have. "Why didn't you?" his voice is sad as he asks. All his misery could have been so easily avoided that day.

"Not right now, Tobias. We'll address that later," she replies wearily. "Anyway, I knew I couldn't go back." Tris holds up her hand before he can ask the next question that is already on the tip of his tongue. "I started walking, hoping that if I put enough distance between us there wouldn't be any temptation left." She sounded like she was trying to avoid chocolate cake instead of abandoning quite possibly the only person who actually cared about her. "I just kept walking and eventually stopped at a gas station probably fifteen miles away. I asked this guy for a ride and he drove me to Lafayette."

The picture painted itself. Tris, worn and dirty, but still managing to make herself plenty attractive. The way she could bat her eyelashes and smile sweetly, there was no doubt she could convince this guy to give her a ride. The thought sends another stab of fear through him. Clearly his fears for her had been prescient, considering her current state.

"Well, after that I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to stop there. Lafayette isn't exactly the sort of place where the homeless can thrive very well." Tobias knew what she meant. It was in the big cities where they could fare the best. In the city there are constantly people around to offer food and money and help. But there were also many homeless and the police wouldn't bother you unless you bothered them. It made for a safer space. "But I kept getting these weird vibes from these men in the rest stop. I got out of there as fast as I could and hung out in the area over the next few days."

He knows it isn't hard for someone to take advantage of a young woman on her own. He worries where this is going and it does nothing to calm his nerves when she speaks again.

"I thought about…making some money," she says, looking away with shame as she speaks. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it." Hanging her head, she sighs. "I probably would have been better off."

Tobias waits, eager to hear the rest of her story. "And then?" he prompts, taking his eyes off of the road to look directly at her. She meets his gaze and he is once again reminded of what she has endured.

Tris sighs again, letting the air out of her lungs slowly. "Two men approached me." Her words only increase the tension in the car. "I should have known right then. I think I did, really. I mean, people don't just offer to help someone like me," she says quietly before looking up and staring straight at Tobias. Although he keeps his eyes focused on the road he can feel her stare. "Well, except for one."

Except for him. But it doesn't feel like he has really helped her at all. In fact, he's almost convinced that he only managed to make everything worse. Were it not for him, she never would have left Chicago. She would still be on her street corner along with the bearded man who huddled a few yards away and the bird man who sat across the street from her. They knew her, probably even watched over her. Tobias could have helped her from a distance, offering coffee and food and maybe even cash. He'd gone too far and just wrecked her that much more. "I'm sorry," he chokes out without really meaning to.

Tris doesn't understand the implication of his words. Surely she would comment on it if she did. Instead, she rests her hand on his forearm, causing him to look over at her. When he meets her eyes she does her best to smile at him despite her swollen face. "Anyway, I was hungry at this point, and desperate. I couldn't imagine any more time spent in that stupid city. The idea of a warm truck cab and maybe being able to scrounge some gas station food from them was more than enough temptation to get me to stay yes."

Cold, hungry, alone; all of his worst fears confirmed. He knew what it would be like out there for her. "It started out okay, they just said they were driving home to Kentucky. We talked about nothing important for a few hours and I really thought everything would be fine. It wasn't," she admits with a shake of her head. "The two of them started arguing with each other and I tried to stay out of it but they kept asking my opinion. I-I tried to stay neutral but that just made them angrier. They were shouting about the stupidest things and next thing I knew we were on the side of the road."

When he glances over at her again she's shaking from head to toe even though the car is now a sauna from the still-blasting heat. Tobias reaches over and rests his hand gently on her knee for a few moments, trying to offer her some comfort.

"Long story short, it didn't take long for them to stop arguing. I didn't even know where we were. It was late and dark and there weren't any streetlights, just headlights. It was a big field and I was convinced they were going to just kill me." It isn't like you never hear these kinds of stories. Homeless girls and sometimes men, too, looking to someone for help only to be taken advantage of, hurt, or killed. Who was left to care about them anyway? The injustices done to them largely go unnoticed. "That probably would have been better."

Her voice is like ice cutting right through him. "What did they…" he pauses before he finishes his question. He's not sure if he really wants the answer or not. It doesn't take a genius to guess what they did.

Tris shrugs, "Exactly what you'd expect. Beat me…raped me, left me there to die." She speaks without emotion. When he glances over at her she's staring straight ahead through the windshield, unyielding in her gaze.

Tobias shakes with anger, wishing he could turn around and find the monsters. He wants nothing more than to inflict the same pain on them that they had forced her to suffer. His violent tendencies are usually well-suppressed; he hates this side of himself that announces its existence every so often. But right now he can't help the rage coursing through him as his hands clench tightly on the steering wheel.

"The only reason they stopped was because a car started slowing on the road alongside the field and they got scared. They took off and left me there."

Tobias swallows the bile that rises in his throat. "Fucking assholes," he mutters to himself, practically shaking with the anger that has built inside him.

She doesn't respond at first, but he can still feel the emotions that roll off of her. "I didn't know where else to go and everything hurt…that McDonald's was the closest place I found." He hates this story. He hates every turn it has taken and every word that comprises it. He even resents Tris for telling it to him.

As she continues to stare stoically out the window he feels his own emotions intensifying . He's half-tempted to pull the car over and cry. Cry for Tris and what happened to her, and cry for himself and the ways this further fucks with him. "I'm sorry," she says after another minute. "I had no one else to call and I didn't know what else to do…I'm so sorry." Tris finally looks over at him and he can see the tears shining in her eyes, the apology that hovers on her lips, the regret written all over her face.

"Tris, you can always call me," he tells her in a low voice, meeting her gaze for a moment. "I'm here for you."

She shakes her head, looking away. "It was my own damn fault," she tells him and then she buries her face in her hands. At first he hears nothing and assumes she's collecting herself. After another minute a broken sob destroys the silence. Her sobbing continues, tearing at Tobias' heart.

It doesn't take more than a few seconds for him to switch his hazard lights on and change lanes, making his way over to the shoulder of the highway. He throws the car into park and leaves the hazards on, their annoying clicking an oddly comforting rhythm.

"Tris," he says softly, reaching out a hand to carefully touch her shoulder. He'd read somewhere that someone who had experienced a traumatic event shouldn't be touched. Somehow, he feels like that's bullshit that needs to be disregarded in the current situation. "It's okay," he whispers to her. Tris falls into him, allowing his arms to wrap around her upper body, holding her as close as the space between their seats will allow.

They remain entwined as he shushes her and lightly smoothes her tangled hair. He doesn't care about the dried blood or caked on dirt; her bedraggled physical state makes no difference in the compassion he feels for her. Ensconced in his arms, she shakes and sobs and buries her face in his chest for a long time. "It's okay now," he tells her again as he rubs his hand up and down her back. Tobias remembers the way his mother used to rub his back when he cried like this. It's the best way he knows to comfort someone. "I'm sorry, Tris. I'm just so fucking sorry."

She shakes her head against him wordlessly.

Eventually his arm begins to feel slightly numb and he can only assume Tris's muscles have begun to protest as well. They disentangle themselves and she wipes the sleeve of her coat under her eyes and nose to wipe away the residue from her tears. The flinch she gives as she wipes at her face does not go unnoticed.

"Come on," he sighs, putting the car back into drive and turning off his hazards. "Let's go home," he says as he looks over his shoulder and eases back into traffic.

It's another thirty minutes of silence before either one of them dares to make another move.

Finally, Tris reaches out and takes the hand that he has been running through his hair every few minutes, clenching it tightly in her own hand like a lifeline. He shoots her a quick glance, then rubs his thumb over her hand soothingly.

"Don't forget," she says after a long while, when the road has become one big blur and his hand has started doing that awkward sweating thing from the continued contact.

"Hm?" he questions. Has he missed something she was saying?

When he looks her way again he notices the ghost of a smile beginning to form on her lips. "We still need to go to the grocery store."