"I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each, it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one's being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes, in some area, an athlete of God. Practice means to perform, over and over again in the face of all obstacles, some act of vision, of faith, of desire. Practice is a means of inviting the perfection desired."
― Martha Graham

"Shauna, what's wrong?" I made a bee line for her. While I still felt the urgency to visit mom, this crying girl couldn't be ignored.

"Everything," she wailed in response. Her shirt was wet with tear stains, but she continued using it to wipe her eyes anyways. "And there's nothing you can do about it, so just go away."

After a meditative breath, during which I reminded myself not to get sassy with a teenage girl because she'd sass the fuck out of me right back, I said "You don't know me very well, but telling me to go away just makes me want to stay more."

So much for not being sassy.

Fighting through sniffles, Shauna growled "I don't need your help. I've been able to take care of myself just fine until now."

"Excuse me?" I clicked my tongue. "Who just saved you from a burning building? The same building you sat in crying? Crying just like you are now? You obviously need some help."

"You're the one that needs help!" Shauna yelled. "Crazy idiots like you shouldn't waste your time with people like me who have nothing left in their lives. Besides, everyone thinks they can help and – let me tell you- they're all damn liars!"

I was ready to yell right back at her. Actually, I was more than ready. I practically had the final draft of my battle plan formed, but the hospital staff was starting to send shut-the-fuck-up glares at me, so I forced myself to tone it down.

"I'm not an idiot," I fought to keep my voice level despite the raging waves of frustration I oozed. "I may be crazy- I should probably get tested or something- but I'm not an idiot. You're the idiot if you think there's nothing left for you. Don't you have your brother? The one we just carted a giant machine around a burning hospital for? What would he think if he heard you say that?"
Gritting her teeth, Shauna replied "That's the thing, you crazy women, he won't get to hear me say that. He won't get to hear me say anything ever again."

"What do you mean?"

"He died."

I blinked.

My mind flashed back to all of the 'he died''s I had heard recently. Suddenly, the world seemed much smaller than it had before. Blood rushed around my face and my chest was a hollow cave. The world had never seemed so muted before.

Precariously, I ran a hand through my hair. "I thought he was fine in the building?" I chose my words carefully. Hundreds of options- phrases, sentences, exclamations of surprise- whirred through my mind as I struggled to comprehend why. Why such a little boy hadn't gotten the chance to grow up.

"He was dying before you guys entered the room," Shauna gripped the arms on her wheelchair. "He had been dying for a long time. Doc Mo knew. He knew and he still let us bring him out of the building. I had to do it. Doc Mo knew. It was the last thing I could do to save my brother." After a brief pause, Shauna spoke bitterly, "Did you know they offer hospice for little boys? Doc Mo discussed it with me, a couple hours ago, but we had no home and no one we wanted to visit, so it was a wasted discussion. And now, I'm a wasted person. I can't walk. I couldn't save my brother."

"Shauna, how old are you?"

"Why the hell is that relevant?"

"Are you a teenager?"

"Yea, I'm 17. Why? You planning to go all pedophile on me now?"

I breezed past her sass as my mind whirred. At 17, I had been living away from home, but that hadn't meant I was alone. I had the support of my family and friends and teachers, and, despite being a hot mess, they kept me from falling.

This teen had no one to support her. She had lost and lost and lost things in her life- her brother, her family, and, from the way she had yet to leave her wheelchair, her legs- and no one was there to tell her that sometimes losing is just life making room for your wins. From her hunched posture to her dead eyes, she practically screamed "I'm defeated".

"The world isn't very fair," I mused, mostly to myself, but that didn't stop Shauna from feeling the need to comment.

"The only people who think the world is fair are the ones who don't notice the people around them."

I had a lot of questions for Shauna. What happened to your legs? What was wrong with your brother? What happened to your family? But they had to wait.

"Tris!"

Turning, I saw that the person calling my name was Amar. He was jogging towards me with a grin on his face.

"I've got two pieces of good news, which is something that has been in short supply lately," he said.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Shauna roll her eyes.

Amar continued, "First, Four is waking up. The nurse told me he should be fully conscious in a few minutes-"

Automatically, as if Four's name had triggered a sensor inside of me, I lurched to head to the ambulance he was in, but Amar held out a hand to stop me.

"You need to hear the other good news. I found the ambulance your mom is in. It's number three."

Now, my problem was which one do I visit first? I felt guilty for forgetting about my mom, but I knew she was okay. Four, however, wasn't even fully awake yet, so I began to trek towards ambulance three.

During my trek, I passed lots of families. Fathers held children covered in gauze, Mother's caressed babies with tears in their eyes, and children stuck next to their parents with a glazed look in their eyes. The elderly were either alone or holding hands with a spouse, and one young man that I saw was making out furiously with a girl.

"Mom? Are you okay?" I asked as I entered the ambulance. It was practically identical to the one I had ridden in after being shot so many lifetimes ago.

In the ambulance, a woman stood next to my mother. This wouldn't have been suspicious if I had A) known the women or B) she was part of the hospital staff, but, from her unfamiliar face and the way she was dressed, she was neither.

With a voice of maple syrup and a mouth upturned into a smile that revealed a row of blinding white teeth, she said "It's nice to meet you, Tris. I'm Molly, and I'm here to discuss an offer with you."

Thanks to lovedance02, blackice999, rubiksmaniac, Lindsey9 (Guest), Sandprints, TrissyPoo, VividSpectrum, AwesomeTooAwesome, Dauntlesscakeplease, VMars lover, FandomFreak1, and bookworm46 for reviewing the last chaper.