The next morning I have to drag myself out of bed, I was barely able to sleep at all last night and now exhaustion consumes me entirely.. I'm tempted to sleep after our morning training, which fails to wake me up in any way and so does the extra coffee I have with lunch. Will and Christina fare only slightly better, well, that's not really true; Will seems to have energy to spare, enough for Christina and I too make tired comments wondering what it must be like to be that energetic all the damn time. My clumsily woven braid mostly falls out by the time we're headed to simulation training and I can't be bothered to fix it so I just throw it up in a ponytail. It's a real fight to stay awake in the hallway, a fight that others who don't sleep well like I do are pretty clearly losing. Christina and I lean on each other as Al and Will talk and Tris just stares off into space. I'll never understand how she does that, guess growing up Abnegation there's not much else to do.

I rub my eyes and sigh, blinking a few times. "I'm starting to think staying up so late last night was a mistake."

"You and me both," Christina murmurs back, her eyes starting to glaze over. "I haven't gone a whole night since we started without waking up at least once." She lets out a halfhearted chuckle. "I'm starting to think that this is as much of an endurance test as it is a bravery one. First one to crack from exhaustion loses."

"Wouldn't put it past Dauntless. Seems very in line with beating the living hell out of each other like we did in stage one."

It hits me in waves how insane what we do here is. Every time I think I've become desensitized to it Four and Eric find some new bullshit to throw at us and I'm once again floored. Who comes up with this stuff?! Who thinks this is a good idea?!

Though maybe you could say that every faction has its own particular brand of insanity. I mean, Erudite believes in running their initiates ragged through crazy hard tests and insane competition. The Erudite-born have a leg up on the transfers if only because there are classes and study guides specifically to prepare them for initiation; it's that hard. Eliza's parents basically forced her into more than a few of those classes but I've still heard that nothing can truly prepare you for the real thing. I used to dread it and every time I wish for home I just remind myself that that is what I'd be facing right about now. I'm tired now and I'd be tired there, my body all but collapsing on itself from a week's worth of all-nighters cramming for tests I'll do mediocre on at best. I'm no Eliza; crazy talented and amazingly smart isn't what I am.

"Ice Queen." I'm snapped from my hypothetical by Four's voice. He waves me back and I groan under my breath, slowly getting to my feet.

"Good luck," Christina says.

I smile back at her as I shuffle through the door and drop into the chair.

"God, you look terrible," Four comments.

I glare at him. "Gee, thanks."

"Are you seriously still mad?"
I cross my arms. "I'm not talking about this with you of all people."

He rolls his eyes. "Quit being petty. You knew you were breaking the rules."

"Just fucking inject me already," I snap.

"You gonna actually try and do the sim correctly this time?" he mutters.

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Because you don't listen," he huffs.

"That's because you speak in goddamn riddles."

He rolls his eyes again and pushes my head to the side. I'm injected and my eyes fall closed soon after.

I open my eyes again and I'm standing in the training room, the lights far above me flickering and casting an eerie effect on the room. The rather vast space is completely empty, the only sound beside my own breathing is the buzz of electricity from the lights. Drumming my fingers on my thigh, I turn around and I'm standing face to face with Will.

"Looks like it's you against me again." He smirks, dropping into his fighting stance.

I do as well. "Are you really that eager to repeat last time?"

"I don't think it will be that easy." We move toward each other without any cue from Four or Eric, meeting and exchanging blows. He's right, this isn't as easy as last time and last time wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. The two of us seem to be pretty evenly matched and his fists meet old bruises that make me wince as I aim for weak spots I know he has. He doesn't seem to be up for banter like he was last time, something in his face more focused and serious. I know that he's not number four for nothing, below me but probably by a very slim margin. I wouldn't be at all surprised if our match against one another was what decided that order.

As it drags on I almost find myself enjoying this, letting muscle memory drive me. I'm starting to win, pushing him further and further back into a corner and it borders on exhilarating. In everything I do I like to succeed whether I actually find the activity enjoyable or not. I've never liked fighting, but I do like winning. "Stop!" Everything in front of me flickers for a second and then Will is on the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. There are tears in his eyes and he's got arms up in front of his face defensively.

"Will?" I lower my fists, moving toward him and feeling bone-chilling horror when he flinches.

"Get away from me!" He curls in on himself. "I give up! I give up, Mimi!" A sob escapes his lips.

"Will…" I put my hands out but don't touch him. "Will, I don't understand, what just happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?!" He looks up; anger, fear, and pain mixing in his eyes. "You fucking hurt me!"

"Will, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." I drop to my knees in front of him and he scrambles back.

"Bullshit! You've always cared about winning more than you cared about other people; that's why you beat Myra even though you knew she was in danger of being cut, isn't it?!"

"No!" my voice cracks. "No of course not! I would never do that to anyone, but especially not my friends!"

He laughs and sobs at the same time. "Liar! Fucking liar, hurting people is what you do! It's what we all signed up for but you know you like it!" His voice drops. "That's why you picked Dauntless."

I freeze, unable to process that through everything else. I know he's wrong, I want to believe that he's wrong. Nobody I've ever hurt has ever been intentional, it's just how things have shaken out. But the part of me that's wracked with guilt knows that he's right; I hurt people even when I know that's exactly what the outcome will be. That's why I haven't started throwing fights like Al, because on some level I still care about winning more than I care about other people.

But that gives me pause. Will is spot on, but how does he sound so much like my guilty conscience? These aren't things I've shared with anyone but my journal, so how does he know exactly how to hurt me? And more importantly, Will would never really do that, right?

He glares, waiting for my response. It hurts to see him shrunk away from me, in pain and knowing that I caused it – even if it isn't real.

"Will," my voice shudders, "this isn't really happening. You're not real."

He gives an incredulous scoff. "What the hell are you talking about–"

"I mean that something like this would never really happen, and we both know that." The fact that it isn't real though doesn't pull me back from the edge of crying. I move toward him by inches, fighting the urge to scramble back and give him the space he clearly needs when it upsets him. "I would never really hurt you, and you'd never hurt me. We understand each other, remember?" His breath hitches, and we're less than an arm's length apart. For a second he raises his hand like he's going to push me away but I take it in mine. "Remember?"

I don't get to hear his response.

My eyes flash open as I gasp, shooting forward in the chair. I swallow a shriek and press my shaking hands together as tears well up in my eyes. I hurt him. It was just a simulation but so very realistic, a jarring example of what I'm capable of doing. That's what it's like to be in Peter's shoes, Molly's shoes, even Edward's to an extent; to have someone cower before you, bruised and beaten. That's supposed to be our ideal, we're supposed to enjoy that. But the very thought of hurting my friend makes me sick to my stomach and very much like the image of the life draining from my mother's eyes that continues to linger I can't get his battered, petrified face out of my head. I screw my eyes shut and try to stop myself from crying but can't and off to the side I'm very aware of Four sitting and just watching this. The frustration and humiliation only bring more tears. I press my face to my legs as I begin to sob, ignoring the exasperated sigh Four gives.

"Ice Queen." His hand brushes my shoulder before he fully commits to putting it down.

I tense, curling in on myself further. "Don't touch me!"

He retracts his hand and says nothing else. I bite my lip as hard as I can in an effort to stifle myself but only succeed in peeling off some of the dead skin as tears continue to stream from my eyes. My throat feels like it's closing up and I have to lift my head because it becomes difficult to breathe. In my periphery I see Four sitting there with his lips pressed together, looking away and seeming like he wants to melt into the floor. I refuse to believe that this is more awkward for him than it is for me and he'll probably give me hell for it later.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Are you gonna get up soon?"

I scoff, almost laugh, and push my messy hair back from my face as I shake my head. "I don't know what else I expected." I push off the arms to the chair to get to my feet and walk out, wiping my eyes as I do. I know that it looks like I've been crying and it makes me flush with shame as I walk through the crowd of initiates still waiting in the hallway. Peter is unfortunately among them. So is Will.

"Aw, why the long face?" Peter mocks.

If I didn't just go through the simulation that I did I probably would have punched him. Instead I barely spare him a glance and turn into the hallway that leads back into the maze of tunnels. I'm not going back to the dorms, I won't let the other portion of my class see me like this. I just want to be away from here.

"Hey." Christina's voice and footsteps follow me, another set close behind but I keep walking. "He-ey." She catches my arm, forcing me to turn around and I see Will on her heels, his brow furrowed in concern. But it overlaps with the mental image of him begging me not to hurt him. I don't realize how hard I'm pulling away until Christina's grip becomes uncomfortably tight. "Mimi."

"Don't you guys have your simulations to go through?" I try to sound nonchalant but my voice trembles.

"Who cares?" Will makes a flippant gesture and then reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You're upset."

I shake my head, blinking back more tears. "It was nothing. Just…the simulations fucking with my head." I can barely look at him. I've never seen him so afraid except for in that sim and I don't care to map that expression onto his actual face.

"You can tell us anything you know," Christina says. "We're here."

"Not worth telling." I sniffle. "I'm just…being ridiculous."

"You're–" she starts.

"Will!" Lauren's voice from down the hall cuts her off and a chorus of initiates repeating it for her follows.

I glance at him for a fraction of a second. "Go."

He hesitates but Christina nudges him in the other direction. "I've got her."

He looks at me and then looks back down the hall, then heaves a sigh and turns away.

"Tell me," Christina murmurs. "I'm here for you."

I try to pull away again. "Christina, I really am fine. I just want to be alone and you should go back."

"No." Her mouth stays open like she's going to continue but she hesitates, starting a sentence but not finishing. She exhales through her nose and takes my free hand in hers. "You helped me when the sims messing with me. Let me do the same for you."

"It's really not worth telling." I sniffle and look up, blinking back more tears. "I'm just being stupid." I would never really hurt someone like that and I would especially never hurt a friend like that. It's an impossible situation and I have absolutely no right to be this distressed by the idea of something that could never be.

"This isn't Erudite, Mimi. You don't need to have a thirty page thesis to justify why you feel the way you do. Just let yourself be upset."

I want to. I want to collapse into her arms and let her comfort me but my pride won't allow it. Instead I squeeze her hand and I'm about to speak but then we're interrupted.

"Christina!" Four calls and a chorus of initiates repeating her name immediately follows.

She looks back down the hall and then at me with an apologetic expression. I squeeze her hand again and try at a smile. "Go. I'll be around after you're done."

She lingers for another moment longer and then lets go of me. "We're not done here."

I sigh and run my hands through my hair before turning and walking in the direction I was headed before she and Will stopped me. On my way to the Pit I can't stop scrubbing my face with my hands and smoothing down my hair, anything to make me look more presentable and less like the oversensitive crybaby I know I am.

That's what this all is, me being oversensitive and irrational. Will and I both know I would never really hurt him like that, and that I haven't really done all those things my subconscious accused me of in the simulation. But then why does this all get to me so much?

What Christina said about not having to justify my feelings might be true to her, Candor have never really felt the need to justify themselves and the Dauntless don't seem to either. But the Erudite scorn and seek to purge what is illogical, and part of that I understand. Why should I feel so bad about something that clearly isn't real and will never be real?

I enter the dimly lit café Uriah took us to and order the largest coffee on the menu before curling up on the couch. I don't let myself think of home while drinking it, I try not to let myself think of anything at all so I don't start crying in the middle of a public space. The first sip blooms warm in my chest, easing me for just a minute but not nearly long enough. One coffee becomes two, then four, and a fifth as exhaustion of all types sets into my bones. But the bitterness on my tongue, the hum of my nerves, and the jitter of my fingers keeps me from lingering on any one thought for too long. Still, when I close my eyes I can see Will's expression of pure terror. I feel more than guilty for the simulated pain that I caused him.

It wasn't real. I didn't really do that. But, god does it feel like I did. Every so often I'm dully surprised to look down at my hands and see them clean, rough, but clean.

In the middle of my wandering thoughts, something jostles my shoulder. I almost jump out of my skin as my head whips around to face the one that accosted me. Lynn is standing beside me holding a pastry in one hand, looking wholly unimpressed.

"God, you look like shit," she says with no real malice. Her hand sweeps over the empty coffee cups at the table. "Caffeinated enough?"

"Haven't decided," I mutter back. "Did Christina send you after me?"

"No. I came to get a snack, you're the one sitting here looking like you haven't slept in an age and trying to replace your blood with caffeine."

"Makes me feel better," I reply, chin resting against my palm.

"Oh of course it does. You can take the girl out of Erudite but clearly can't take the Erudite out of the girl." I just shrug in response. "Did Peter do something I'll need to fight him for?" I'm sure Marlene's told her and Uriah about what happened with my diary if it didn't just get to them through the regular grapevine. I open my mouth to tell her that I don't need her to feel sorry for me, and I don't want to talk, but she starts to tug on my arm. "Come on. If you sit here any long your butt's going to fuse with the chair." She pulls me to my feet and starts to scoop up the empty cups, staring at me until I help her. We throw them in the trash and I look mournfully back toward the chair for a second, but she doesn't let me linger for long.

"God," she says, "you're practically vibrating." She holds my hand up in front of my face to show me my own trembling fingers. I just shrug in response. "It's okay that you don't want to talk. What's not okay though is this whole sulky thing. That's not how we do it here in Dauntless."

"Don't care," I mutter. "Want to be alone." I start to pull away but she's much, much stronger than me and I know if she wanted she could physically drag me wherever we're going.

"Don't care," she repeats. "We're gonna do something that isn't sitting around drinking coffee until your chest hurts and if you still feel just as shitty afterward then we can deal with that. Until then though, you're going to give me and this a chance."

I look her in the eyes with a clarity I don't think she was really expecting. "Why? What do you have to gain from helping me?"

"Oh my god," she groans. "Are you Erudite just like this all the time? No wonder you're all so grumpy, I can't imagine seeing the world as a series of exchanges with no one ever doing anything for anyone just because it's the right thing to do."

I frown. "What – no…that's not…" I pause to try and rake together some coherent thoughts. "I wouldn't expect you to have such a sunny view of the world."

"Why?" she replies. "Because of the way I act? Someone's got to be the common sense between Mar and Uriah, but we're friends for a reason. I'm helping you because we're friends, and you're sad, and you help friends when they're sad. I don't gain anything but a stronger bond with you."

That almost makes me smile. "That's…really kind of you, Lynn."

"Yeah, well, despite what everyone says I do try to be a nice person." We arrive at a very familiar set of double doors and I start to pull away again, ruining the moment.

"You've got to be kidding me," I say.

"Nope." She opens the door with her hip and leads me inside. "Sometimes you've got to just get yourself moving. It'll make you feel good."

"Hm, doubt it." I'm finally able to cross my arms.

"Don't knock it till you try it." She walks over to a station with rolls of tape and starts to wrap her hands. "You feel like shit, right?"

"I do."

"Then you can do one of two things." She tears off the tape and picks up a different role, this one bright blue like my hair. "You can run away and sulk, or you can do something about it." She shakes the tape and raises her eyebrows at me.

I sigh, honestly surprised she hasn't just gotten frustrated and left me alone yet. I guess that's worth something. "Well, we are Dauntless, so I guess there's only really one choice." Her mouth starts to quirk up into a smile. "I guess I have to do something about it."

She smiles in full and tosses me the tape.

Lynn and I spar until we're both exhausted and dripping with sweat. My sweater, shoes, and overshirt lay forgotten on the ground and the cool air pricks my skin. It wasn't like in training, where we're fighting to hurt each other and win. More than anything else I think she was just trying to exhaust me, and she did a good job of it.

"Okay," I pant, putting my hand up to stop her and she drops her stance. "I think I'm done." I push aside my misgivings and lay down on the mat. Everything around me smells like sweat and it is truly very, very gross but I can't bring myself to care all that much.

She drops down next to me on her stomach with her legs up behind her and her head propped on her fists, looking at me expectantly. "So…?"

"So…what?" I'm still trying to catch my breath.

"Feel any better?"

"…You're not allowed to say 'I told you so'."

She looks satisfied. "But I did." And she was right, I do feel better. I didn't have to think about how scared I was when we were sparring. I didn't see Will's fear-stricken face and I knew that I wasn't capable of really truly hurting her. "Now do you want to talk?"

I shrug. "It's stupid. You'd think it was nothing."

"Maybe. But," she pokes my stomach, "you don't think it's nothing. So spill it."

I bite my lip, but unlike with Will and Christina I know that there's no getting out of this one. There's no one to interrupt us here. As quietly as possible I say, "I'm scared of hurting people."

"What?"

"I'm scared of hurting people," I say a little louder. "I don't like it. It makes me feel bad inside and that's what the simulation was about; I hurt one of my friends." My throat tightens up again. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to fight anymore."

I don't know how I expected her to react. From what I've seen of her she's mostly brash, mostly headstrong, and seemingly always down to fight. But in that moment she moves closer and drapes her arm over me, resting her head on my sweaty upper chest.

"I'm afraid of hurting people too," she says, her voice softer than I've ever heard it. "I know how I come off. I'm meaner than I really mean to be sometimes and I…I mean it, but I also don't. Does that make sense?"

I nod.

"No, I don't think that you being afraid of fighting is stupid. If I didn't grow up with it I might be afraid of it too. But…but you've gotta separate the fights from initiation from the people that you truly care about. They should understand that you'd never really hurt them. Mimi, I know for a fact you're not capable of hurting me and I don't think you could even if you were."

"Thanks, I think?"

"It's good that there are lines that you won't cross. Eric may not act like it, and Four can be a real jerk sometimes, but as far as flaws go you being too caring and gentle is far from the worst thing to be."

"Thanks, Lynn. That…means a lot." We lay in silence for another minute before I start to grimace. "You know, I really hate to ruin this tender friendship moment but this is actually really uncomfortable and hot."

"Yeah." She pulls away from me and we can hear our skin peal apart. "Ick." She sits with her legs crossed and I push myself up onto my arms. "Listen, take it from me: a not very nice person who tries not to make a habit out of saying things they don't mean. You're fine the way you are. You're not stupid or a bad Dauntless for having limits, everyone does."

In that moment a reminder of Michael hits me like a train, because that's his motto for life. Everyone has their limits, and the only way to get ahead is to know yours and play them to your advantage.

"Everyone gets scared," she finishes, oblivious to how far my thoughts jumped away from what she was trying to say.

I mutter, "Bravery isn't the absence of fear, it's acting in spite of it."

"That's good," she says. "Where'd you get that from?"

I smile softly. "A friend." I push myself up and get to my feet, then hold my hand out to Lynn. "Come on, we should probably get to dinner."

Her calloused hand wraps around my forearm and she pulls herself up. "Probably."

"Hey," I say as I'm pulling my overshirt back on. "For what it's worth, Lynn, I think you're pretty nice."

Will and Christina haven't forgotten about what happened earlier. They don't make it a thing in front of Tris and Al, and they don't ask questions about where I've been all afternoon or why I'm covered in sweat, but after dinner Will puts his hand on my back and steers me down a hallway away from the dorm with Christina giving some excuse to Tris and Al before catching up with us.

"Okay," Will says. "Spill it, Malachite. What had you all messed up earlier today?"

I give a heavy sigh. "Do we really have to get into this? I am feeling a lot better, I promise." And that's the truth.

"Yeah, actually, we do," Christina says. "If for no other reason then I won't be able to stop thinking about it until we do."

I sigh again. "Okay." I press my back to the cold, rough stone wall and sink to the floor. They share a confused look before sitting across from me. Looking at Will, his eyes shining with worry, I almost lie. He doesn't need to deal with me being like this, they don't need to hear all about my weird guilt.

But then I look at Christina who has openly bragged about always knowing when people lie. I don't think I could get away with that if I tried.

"My simulation was about hurting people," I confess. "Hurting Will." I rehash the horror of it all for them, and how terrible I feel about the mere concept of causing other people pain. All of the guilt I had kept from them and tried to lock away deep inside myself and how it had all come bubbling to the surface in that simulation. I'm crying before I realize that I am, and the accompanying embarrassment sets in.

Will and Christina look nothing short of horrified. Their hands rest over one another for comfort and as I talk they exchange increasingly concerned glances. When I'm finally finished, breathing heavily as though I'd been running rather than talking, there's a beat of silence and I feel horrific for dumpling everything on them just like that.

Then Christina jerks forward and throws her arms around me. I almost fall backward with the force of it, not really prepared for that reaction. Will joins a moment later, pushing himself against our sides and squeezing in as close as he can.

"You would never do that to me," he murmurs, his lips close to my ear. "I know you, you're not capable of that."

"Doesn't stop me from being scared of it," I whisper.

"Fear is funny like that," he replies and I can hear him sniffling.

I rest one of my hands on Christina's back and the other around Will's waist. It's a long time before we say anything else but this time Christina breaks the silence first.

"It's horrible you had to deal with that alone," she whispers. "We should have been paying more attention to each other."

"Christina, you've got your own problems, don't you?"

"I do." Her voice cracks and she buries her face in the crook of my neck like she's trying to hide from those problems. She mutters something incomprehensible against my skin and I feel something wet drip onto me.

"What was that, Chris?" Will asks.

"I'm so fucked up, you guys." She tries to stifle a sob. "I'm afraid all the time, and I can't sleep at night, and I feel sick, and…" she stops to cry into my shoulder for a minute. "And I want to go home. I never really liked Candor but at least my teachers didn't try to kill me." Her hands ball up into fists with my shirt clenched in them. "I don't wanna do this anymore."

"Christina…" I rest my face on top of her head and don't know how to finish that sentence. She's right, I wouldn't want to do this in her shoes; I don't even really want to do it in mine. Will leans in impossibly closer, I can both hear and feel his breathing.

"I know. I – I know and I don't have half of what you guys do to be scared of. But…if Edward couldn't hack it then what chance do I have? What chance to any of us have if we're not exactly like Peter?"

Christina starts to cry harder and we curl in on each other, on her, and just stay like that for a while. The only light is the soft glow of the lamps above us at regular intervals.

It's hard to gauge how long we stay like that, on and off crying and just holding each other as tight as we can. Eventually, the lights dim as night sets in and we're still there. I'm vaguely surprised that Tris and Al haven't come looking for us yet, but I suppose whatever excuse Christina gave them was just that good.

"Are you guys gonna be okay?" Will breaks the near silence, his voice barely audible over the constant buzz of the lights.

"Something like that," Christina mutters back. "Should probably get some sleep."

"Probably," I echo but don't make any move to get up. I can feel Will's bony frame starting to dig into me, and our three pairs of legs are sort of awkwardly intertwined.

Christina moves for the first time since we wound up like this, contorting so she's faced outward and almost in my lap. She tips her head against me and lets out a sigh. "Shame they don't award points for being a good pillow, Mimi."

I snort and the noise draws an accompanying laugh from Will. For a minute, mine dips back to crying but I force back toward joy.

"Oh god," Will says through his giggles, "we should probably go to bed if we find that this funny."

I exhale, relaxing into the stone wall and in a way wishing that I could meld with it, sinking in to never reappear. "Well I can't get up with the two of you on top of me."

Will makes a choking noise and for a minute his movements become jerky and nervous. He tries to pull away, reconsiders, stresses himself out again, and finally relaxes when Christina reaches over to him.

"Can you relax?" Her words come slow and heavy, on the edge of sleep.

He hums. "Evidence suggests no." Another chuckle runs through us.

In the low light I watch Christina's finger trace lazy figure eights on Will's shoulder blade, not even seeming aware that she's doing it. No one is in the same place as the one before it, even as the motion is continuous. Will's relaxed again, limp over and entangled with me like a piece of cooked spaghetti. I can still feel and hear him breathe, and it keeps me from thinking for too long about the anger and fear I'd seen on him in the simulation. Sometimes he breathes in like he's about to speak, but it never seems to come.

"Mimi," Christina mutters out of the blue, startling me a little. "Will?" I honestly thought she had fallen asleep, her hand had stopped moving sometime ago.

"Hwuh?" Will was well on his way to sleep, and in disturbing him he starts to shift and squirm again.

"Hm?" I angle my head toward her and it puts us somehow closer, her forehead brushing my lips.

"I'm cramping. We should get up." She pushes off my stomach and the ground, falling off of me. Will is less inclined, but shaking off his weight is almost nothing. There's sore spots on my back where it was pressed into the wall and I stand to stretch my arms high above my head.

Will reaches up and with a cheeky smile pokes my exposed midriff. "Squishy."

I put my arms down and swat away his hand with a chuckle. "Stop." Then I help him to his feet.

"Still think you make a more comfortable place to sleep than the beds in the dorms," Christina says as we're walking back, her fingers loosely entwined with mine. Will hums in agreement, trailing behind the two us but forced to keep up by Christina's equally as soft hold on his hand.

We fumble our way together through the dark of the dorm room, trying not to disturb anyone. None of us are in the mood to change out of our training clothes. I kick off my shoes at the foot of my bed, but Christina's hold on Will and I keeps us from crawling into bed before she wants us to.

"Thank you, you guys," she whispers, her thumb rubbing over my knuckle.

"Always, Christina."

"Always," Will echoes. He bumps into me on his way to embrace Christina, and in apology pulls me in as well. Christina squeezes us both tight, rocking and swaying all three of us on our feet.

When she pulls away, my only confirmation she made it to her bed is the groan of the wood and old springs.

"Goodnight, Mimi." Will's hands fumble, and I'm not exactly what he's going for – if anything at all beyond basic contact. His hands finally settling on my shoulder and face.

"Goodnight."

He pulls away and fumbles for the ladder up to his bunk, bumping and slipping multiple times on his way up. I crash like a tree onto my own bed, and fall into a deep sleep almost instantly.