CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: We Try to Stand Before We Fall

He surprises himself later and wakes up.

There's a dull ache in his head, a ringing in his ears, and his whole body feels stiff and tired, sore and aching. Like he ran a marathon and pushed himself to the limits. He pries heavy eyelids open, the dull pain growing, and winces at the light above him. There's a few hushed voices, the sound of footsteps leaving, and then a quiet whisper in his ear.

"Try again," the voice prompts.

He blinks his eyes open once more, and this time the light isn't nearly so bright. He swallows, mouth and throat so very dry, and waits for his vision to focus on the face hovering over him.

There's a lot of worry in those brown eyes. "Do you know who I am?" the person asks.

Tris tries to think of a name, knows it's on the tip of his tongue, but can't quite clear the haze away from his mind enough to locate the words. So he just stares at the person, and watches as their expression falls.

"Don't worry," the guy says, "I'm sure it will come back to you. You had quite a shock, and your brainwaves are all over the place. The doctor said memory loss would probably occur."

Brainwaves all over the place. Did they spike again? He remembers something about that. Something about trying to get them to lower, in a med-bay. Is he in a med-bay? He looks around, but he's in a room, on a comfy bed, but this definitely isn't any med-bay he's seen before.

The person notices him looking. "It's the only place I could bring you where you wouldn't be disturbed. As far as I know, they're still looking for you."

Who? He frowns, confused.

"Your family," the person says.

His family. His sister and his father, the Pathfinder.

Kadara. He's on Kadara. Or at least he was; he has no idea where he is now. What happened?

A duel. A showdown, between Sloane and the Charlatan.

The Charlatan.

Reyes. Reyes Vidal.

And suddenly he knows who this person is.

"Rey…" he starts, but dissolves into a coughing fit due to his dry, scratchy throat.

Brown eyes widen hopefully. "You remember me now?"

He can only nod, unable to speak at the moment, his eyes watering from coughing.

Reyes disappears from view for a moment, before returning. "I have water for you. Can you sit up?"

Tris thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. With Reyes's help, he manages to sit up, and a cup of water is brought to his lips. He drinks greedily, not caring how pathetic he must look like this. After swallowing as much as he can down, he clears his throat and tries again. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"It's kind of fuzzy," Tris says, shaking his head. "I think… you killed Sloane? Well, not you, but a sniper. And… and Erin tried to shoot you?"

"You stopped her," Reyes says. "For which I am beyond grateful, by the way. You saved my life."

"What happened?"

"Your father stabbed you, and electrocuted you."

Tris stares at him for a long time. "What?" he finally manages to rasp. He must have heard wrong. It's the only explanation.

Reyes's expression is grim, solemn. "He attacked you. He used his omni-blade to get past your barrier, which you were letting down, and then I guess he charged it up and electrocuted you. I don't know, exactly. I just know what I saw. You collapsed, and he tried to carry you off, but I stopped him."

"You… stopped him?" He's still trying to wrap his mind around the whole 'your father stabbed you' bit. Is this shock? He thinks he's in shock.

"My sniper shot him, and he dropped you. My sniper gave me cover fire while I got you out of there, and to my shuttle."

"Wait. You shot my father?"

"I didn't," Reyes says, partially amused. "But yes."

"Is he… okay?"

"Would it matter to you if he wasn't?"

"I don't know." That's the worst part, he thinks. The fact he's too numb to everything now, and if Reyes were to tell him his father is dead, he doesn't know that he'd have a big reaction or anything. He doesn't know if he'd react at all, because Alec Ryder hasn't been a father to him in a long, long time.

But at the same time, that's his family. He should care about them, right? He should care if they live or die. Maybe there's something wrong with him. Maybe he's just a terrible person.

"He's fine," Reyes says. "He was shot in the shoulder. As far as I know, he and your sister returned to the Tempest, but they haven't left yet. They're looking for you."

"Looking for me," Tris repeats, frowning. "Why?"

As far as they know, Tris betrayed them, right? And his father even attacked him. It's still hard to wrap his mind around, because as much as his father hasn't really been family to him, he's never hurt him before. So why now? And now they're looking for him, staying on Kadara to find him?

"How long has it been?" Tris asks.

"You've been unconscious for four days," Reyes replies. "The doctor said it was your brainwaves. You… had a few seizures."

"Seizures," he repeats flatly, staring at Reyes. "Oh. Great. Just fucking wonderful."

"Yes," Reyes says, nodding, "they were rather unpleasant."

"Oh," Tris says, blinking. "You saw them."

"Someone had to watch you while you recovered."

"Um… thanks," he says, shifting uneasily.

Reyes simply nods. "The doc says the electricity caused your brainwaves to spike more than they already were. You've been in and out of consciousness, but haven't been very coherent. He also said there'd be some memory loss, and you'll probably be stiff and sore for a while."

"He stabbed me," Tris says, still stuck on that.

"I don't think he meant to kill you," Reyes says. "Not that that really matters. I don't know what his plan was, but he didn't stab very deeply; just enough to electrocute you. I think he just wanted to knock you out and drag you back to the ship, though why he'd do that is beyond me."

"I don't know, either," Tris mutters, frowning to himself. This is all a lot to take in. He can't believe his father actually attacked him. At the moment, he's thankful for the numbness spreading through him, because he's not sure he'd be able to process everything if he wasn't in shock. As it is, he's not really processing anything anyway, is he? He just feels numb. His father attacked him. Electrocuted him. Left him having seizures. Why?

He throws his feet over the edge of the bed. Reyes puts a hand on his shoulder, halting him from trying to get up.

"Whoa there," Reyes says. "Take it easy."

"I need to talk to them."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

It's probably not, but he needs to know why. He shrugs off Reyes's hold.

"What's your plan?" Reyes asks, watching his feet touch the floor. He doesn't try to stand just yet, is just trying to gear himself up for it. "What makes you think he won't attack you again?"

"I just need to talk to him," Tris says. "I don't have to go there. I just want to know why."

"SAM could use the data in the call to extrapolate our location," Reyes warns him.

"Where are we?"

It might be Reyes's house, but it doesn't look like it. The walls are stone, not wood.

The bed is comfortable, though.

"In the mountains," Reyes tells him. "The acidity in the air interferes with radio signals out here. It's the best place to hide."

"I don't want to hide."

"Yes, well, you didn't see yourself having seizures for days," the smuggler snaps, tone suddenly firm but not quite harsh. Tris blinks at him, and Reyes sighs heavily. "You're not exposing yourself."

"I need to know why."

"Later, but for now, rest."

"I'm tired of resting!"

It's all he ever does. In the med-bay on the Tempest, now here. He's always told to take it easy and rest, and he's so tired of it because he feels fine. Okay, he's sore and his head hurts, but he's okay. He's alive, and he needs answers. He wants to know why his father suddenly attacked him. Is it because he argued with him? Because he told the Pathfinder to stop, to leave Reyes alone? His memories of the confrontation are a little blurry, but he can't think of a reason his father would just attack him like that.

"Are you finished throwing a fit?" Reyes asks, eyebrow raised.

Tris scowls at him. "You can't keep me here, you know."

"I can, but I won't. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to. But please consider the fact that your father attacked you, and you are still recovering. Confronting him right now is a recipe for disaster."

He has a point, Tris has to admit, however reluctantly. "He wouldn't just… just attack me," he says, shaking his head. "There has to be a reason."

"From everything you've told me, your family does this on a regular basis," Reyes says, frowning at him. "It might not have been physical until now, but abuse is still abuse."

"It's not like that."

"How can you keep defending them?"

"I'm not defending them," Tris argues, but it feels weak even to him. He swallows thickly. "I just… They're my family."

"They're related to you by blood," Reyes says. "That doesn't mean they're family."

On some level, Tris understand that. On another level, he keeps hearing his mom's voice in his ears, telling him to try to get along with his father and sister, for her sake. But she's not here anymore, so it's okay if he doesn't, right? It's okay if they argue and they attack him and he hates them.

Right? That's okay?

Or is he the worst person ever for thinking this? So many people have it so much worse than him. So many people don't have any family at all, or have never known their families, and here he is, complaining about the family he does have. He should be grateful he still has them, right?

So why do I feel so… wrong?

"At least wait another day," Reyes says quietly. "I'll call the doctor back, and they can look you over, make sure you're okay. Then if you want to call them… you can. But not from here. We'll go somewhere else so this place remains safe."

Reyes wants to keep him safe. The thought doesn't permeate his mind at first, but now it's all he can think about. He stares at the smuggler, uncertain.

"You're protecting me?" he asks.

Reyes frowns. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugs.

"Do you still think everything I said was a lie?"

"I don't know."

He doesn't really know what he thinks right now. It's all a confused mess in his head. Everything happened so fast, and he has no way to process everything without completely shattering.

My father attacked me. He stabbed me and electrocuted me. But why?

And they're still looking for him. They haven't left yet. What do they want from him?

Did they tell the crew what happened, or lie to them?

Does the crew think Reyes kidnapped him? Do they have orders to shoot first and ask questions later?

This is too much. It's all too much right now. His head hurts.

And didn't Reyes technically kidnap him? He stole him, took him away with suppressing fire, so maybe in their eyes it is a kidnapping. But in Reyes's eyes it's not, because according to him, the Pathfinder attacked him and he simply got him out of there, and got him looked at by a doctor. Probably the same one as before.

What does it say about his life that a relative stranger cares more about him than his family? That someone who might have been using him, saved him from his family? That he even needed saving in the first place?

It's all a mess. It's one big mess and he doesn't know how to fix it, doesn't know if it can be fixed. Doesn't know if he'll ever be able to look his father in the eye again, and doesn't know if Alec Ryder even deserves a hint of forgiveness.

"Okay?" Reyes asks, and Tris realizes he's been quiet too long.

There's a lump in his throat, difficult to swallow around. He closes his eyes against the wetness gathering there, and nods weakly. "Alright," he murmurs.

"Good," the smuggler says. "Are you hungry? You should probably eat."

"Not really," Tris says.

"Well, you're eating anyway. What do you want?"

"I'm really not hungry." He has no appetite right now.

"Too bad. I will force it down your throat if I have to."

Those words shouldn't break him like they do, but suddenly he's a million shattered pieces falling apart, and his shoulders are shaking and his body is trembling. There's a sob lodged in his throat he struggles to swallow back down, but the pressure is building and building and he screws his eyes tightly shut, a hitch in his breath.

"What's wrong?" Reyes asks, alarmed. He sits next to him on the bed, their shoulders lightly brushing together. "Are you all right? Is something wrong? What hurts?"

Tris can only shake his head, because he doesn't have the words to express that Reyes is what's wrong. He doesn't have the voice, right now, to tell him that his kindness is the problem. What has he done to deserve any of this? To deserve Reyes's kindness, or his words, or his protection, or anything?

"Talk to me," Reyes tells him.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he breathes, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough, and I don't have to know you to treat you well."

Too much. This is all too much. Everything – Reyes's revelation of being the Charlatan, his family arriving on Kadara, talking to Sloane, the duel, his father attacking him, Reyes's protection… it's all too much.

"Tris?" the smuggler asks worriedly.

He just shakes his head. "I'm… I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I just… Thank you. For being so nice. You really don't have to be."

Reyes doesn't say anything further, but there's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly, and that's enough. That's more than enough. All his life he's wanted that. He's wanted a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in comfort, in approval, and he never got it but watched his sister get it all the time. All his life he's just wanted to be noticed, to be acknowledged, to be loved equally as her, and right now, this simple shoulder squeeze is everything.

Reyes will probably never know how important this is to him, why it hurts in all the right ways, but that's okay. He doesn't need to know, because he's doing this to be a decent person, and maybe that's all Tris wanted in the first place. He just needed someone to be decent to him, just for once. To treat him with just a little respect.

He's not sure how long they sit there, in silence as Tris tries to pull himself back together, but eventually Reyes leaves him alone. He returns a bit later, with a plate of hot food. The scent simultaneously makes his stomach churn, and makes his mouth water. He's hungry, even if he doesn't feel like eating.

He pokes at the food at first, but Reyes stays and waits for him to finish the plate. It almost reminds him of Mom, when he was sick as a kid. She used to give him soup and make sure he ate it all, and in that moment he felt loved.

"Thank you," he says quietly, as Reyes collects the empty plate.

Reyes nods, and disappears with the plate. Tris looks around the room, feeling more stable now than he did before. The walls are in fact stone, and the room is rather dark with the lights still turned down. They must be in the side of a mountain, or in a cave or something, like the Roekaar were.

Reyes returns a few minutes later, but pauses in the doorway. "You should get some sleep," he says. "I called the doctor. He'll be here soon."

Tris nods. Now that he's eaten, he does feel rather tired, the exhaustion from the past few days getting to him. "I hope you didn't threaten him again."

Reyes smiles faintly. "Only a little."

Tris snorts. "What'd you say to the poor guy this time?"

The smuggler shrugs. "Only what needed to be said to get him here quickly. Don't worry, he's still in one piece."

"You shouldn't threaten him. I'm not worth it."

Reyes frowns. "We'll revisit that later, but the short answer is: yes, you are. Anyway, please get some rest. I'll wake you when he arrives."

"Okay," Tris says, laying back down. His body feels heavy suddenly, as he realizes just how tired and sore he really is. The bed is so comfortable. "Thank you," he says again.

"You can stop thanking me. But you're welcome."

With that, Reyes leaves him alone and shuts the door.

Tris closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

xXx

He wakes a few hours later, with Reyes gently shaking his shoulder. He blinks his eyes open and finds Reyes and the doctor next to him. Dr. Nakamoto waves his omni-tool over him, and frowns down at the readings.

"Well," he says, "your brainwaves are still off the charts, but it's nice of you to join the land of the living again. How do you feel?"

"Sore," Tris says.

"That is to be expected, after being electrocuted. Your muscles will continue to be sore for a few more days. If I had better equipment, I could give you something for it, but the soreness will go away on its own."

"Thanks," he says, smiling at the man. "I appreciate the help. I hope Reyes didn't threaten you too much." This he says with a pointed look at the smuggler, who scoffs in return.

Dr. Nakamoto smiles. "Nothing I couldn't handle, although the graphic details of my dismemberment were unwarranted. I am a doctor, after all; it's my job to help people."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, and Mr. Vidal did feed me, so I suppose I can let it slide."

Tris smirks, glancing at Reyes. "You're becoming quite the cook, then?"

"I am a man of many talents," Reyes replies, smirking back at him.

"Mr. Vidal told me the Pathfinder did this to you?"

Tris's smile fades. He nods. "I guess so. I don't remember too much of it."

"That's probably for the best. I must say, I am shocked to hear the Pathfinder would do such a thing to someone under his employ. I thought he was a better man than that."

"Yeah… everyone thinks that," Tris says, shrugging. "He's kind of a jerk, though. But you didn't hear that from me."

"Of course not." The doctor winks at him. "Mr. Vidal also tells me you want to speak with them, and expressed concern about your health."

"Just a little," Reyes chimes in, scowling at the doctor.

"You should be okay to talk to them, but if you become too stressed out, it could cause your brainwaves to spike again. I gather that stress is a factor?"

"Kind of," Tris says. "The doctor on the Tempest told me to avoid stress as much as possible, but that was back after it initially happened, and she said I was doing better."

"Nevertheless, stress should be avoided as much as possible. It's a trigger. Strong emotional responses can alter brainwaves, trigger chemical reactions in the brain, and right now your brain is simply not in a state to withstand those kinds of changes. So, speak to them if you need closure because that's important for your mental health, but at the same time, do not overdo it. If you become stressed, please end the call and rest."

Tris sighs heavily. "I'm tired of resting. I'm fine."

"You are not 'fine'," Dr. Nakamoto says, frowning at him. "I don't think you understand the seriousness of the matter."

"I understand it just fine. I get it. High brainwaves equals bad stuff."

"Not just 'bad stuff'. If this continues, you could fall into a coma. You could become completely brain dead if your brain gets too exhausted trying to handle the higher brainwaves. This could kill you if you do not take it seriously."

"But life is stress," Tris says. "So just living could kill me."

"Yes, but there are ways to minimize that stress. Not speaking to those who attacked you is probably a good way to avoid it, but again, I understand it is important for your mental health to receive closure. Since you don't seem to be taking it seriously…" He glances over at Reyes. "I leave his care in your hands. If you see him becoming agitated or lightheaded after exposure to stressful situations, then please remove him from the situation and force him to relax."

"Uh, he's not my caretaker," Tris says.

At the same time, Reyes says, "I will do my best."

Tris glares at him. Reyes just smiles back.

"Seriously," Tris says, looking at the doctor. "He's not responsible for my health."

"Since he keeps threatening me whenever something happens to you," the doctor says, looking at him pointedly, "then he is very much responsible for your health. As well as my own mental health because if I have to listen to graphic details of my own dismemberment should I not arrive in a timely fashion, then you can suffer the evils of a comfortable bed in a quiet room."

Well… when he puts it like that…

Tris sighs heavily. "Fine."

Dr. Nakamoto smiles. "Good. I'm glad we have an understanding."

"So he's good to travel?" Reyes asks.

"I wouldn't travel very far, or very long, but yes. He should be okay moving around, he's just going to be sore for a while. Just try not to stress him out."

"Uh… I'm right here…" Tris says, because they're talking like he's not even in the room.

They ignore him.

"If he starts getting a headache, however mild, do take care of it with medicine or herbal remedies," the doctor continues. "Also make sure he's eating regularly, as he'll definitely need the nutrients with his metabolism and biotics. A lack of nutrition could also give him a headache, and trigger stress responses."

"I'll make sure he eats."

"You really don't have to," Tris says, but again is ignored.

"Adequate hydration is equally important."

"He won't go thirsty."

"Don't let him overexert himself, either," the doctor says.

"I'll make sure he rests," Reyes says.

"Guys?" he tries again. "Still in the room."

"I'll come back in a few days to check on his progress, but call me if there are any further problems, or his seizures return."

"I will," Reyes says solemnly.

Tris coughs loudly, and they both finally look at him. "That's all very well and good, but I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter. No offense."

"Apparently, you do need a babysitter," Dr. Nakamoto says, scowling at him. "This is not the first time I have been threatened to see to you. I'll not have any more of it, do you understand? So you will let Mr. Vidal take care of you until I deem you adequately healthy."

"Uh… you kind of can't make me?" he tries, frowning at the doctor.

Dr. Nakamoto smiles. "Oh, but I can. I don't have access to a lot of things, but I do have plenty of sedatives. If you continue to argue I will put you in a medical coma until I deem you fit enough to wander off on your own. Do you understand me, young man?"

Tris stares at him. What is this? What is happening?

Reyes bursts out laughing. "Don't worry, doc. I'll take care of him. That won't be necessary."

"Are you sure you're a doctor?" Tris asks.

"Of course I am," the doctor says, grinning at him. "But I'm also an exile. I don't have to play nice to help my patients."

Tris swallows. Reyes laughs again.

"Thank you, doctor," the smuggler says.

Dr. Nakamoto nods and moves toward the door. "If that is all, I will take my leave. You know how to reach me, though I do hope the days of threats are behind us."

"Sure," Reyes says, shrugging.

"Mm. That doesn't sound very certain."

"No more threats," Tris says.

"Very well. Until next time. Take it easy."

The doctor leaves, and Tris looks at Reyes.

"He's kind of scary," he says.

Reyes laughs once more, nodding his head. "Welcome to Kadara."