TOBIAS POV

Tris is on edge as she rushes around to gather any equipment we might need. It is a little after midnight now, and we didn't exactly spend most of the day resting, instead keeping our minds preoccupied with other unimportant chores. The anxious buzz we both feel was inevitable, but she seems much too frazzled at the moment; that is not a beneficial thing when going into a situation like this. We both need clear minds.

"Tris, calm down," I say, grabbing her arm when she tries to brush past me again.

She sighs and presses her free hand to her forehead. "I can't," she states. "Not when this could easily go wrong, not when we don't know for sure what we're heading into."

"It's just in and out," I reassure her. "You shut it down, I hack in the computer and copy the information, and we leave. It's that simple."

Shaking out her hands, she nods, trying to calm her nerves. It doesn't seem to help.

I clasp her hands in mine and press a light kiss to her forehead, brushing my lips down to hers. I whisper, "It'll be okay."

It relieves her enough to continue packing her bag, much more pensive. After double-checking that I have everything I need to scale Erudite, a gas mask with a communication device hidden inside, and a hard drive, I remove my gun from the nightstand. I tuck it into my waistband, and then I take my other gun out of the top drawer of my dresser.

"I'm not using it," Tris barks from behind me.

"Just carry it with you," I say, leaving no room for argument. When I hand it to her, she refuses to move. "I highly doubt you'll have to even use it. I would feel better if you had it, just in case."

My words break through her obstinate wall. Uncomfortably, she wraps her fingers around the gun before quickly stuffing it in her backpack.

"We're doing this to help people, but I don't want it to be at the expense of your life."

"Same goes for you," she says, her eyes insistent. "Be careful."


Erudite headquarters slides into view as a mass of bright lights and glass windows. I pull my gas mask down over my face and get used to breathing in it, testing out the mic soon after.

"Ready?" I say, my voice muffled.

Tris nods and snaps her own mask into place. With one last brush of our hands, we jump off the train, landing on concrete with steady legs.

As soon as we reach the Erudite perimeter, we head around to the south side as Cara suggested. We stay in the shadows to be on the safe side until we reach the outside generators. Right next to them is a vent.

I get to work, slipping into the harness and tightening it around my thighs and trying to ignore Tris's comment about how similar they are to the ones used for zip lining. Then I hook myself up to the cable-like rope so that I am almost set to climb.

Tris pulls out a screwdriver, which she uses to unscrew the bolts locking the air vent closed. When the screws are loose, the sheet of metal falls open to the ground. This is where we part ways.

"Good luck," I bid her. And the war is the reason I regret not kissing her one last time, because I never really know when I might not see someone again. Never should I pass up that opportunity, but there is no time to fix that mistake now.

She nods at me before crouching on her hands and knees to crawl into the metal trap. With a judging stare, I scan the main Erudite building until my eyes land on the second to the top floor, towering over me and barely visible from this lack of height.

I gulp. This is worse than I thought.

Taking aim, I fire the gun-like contraption up to the top of the roof. It is too far up for me to hear a reassuring clink, so I tug and test my weight on it until I'm sure it is safe.

Well, as safe as this gear can be.

"Have you started climbing yet?" Tris asks into the mic.

I shake my head before walking to the nearest wall and starting my climb. "Yeah, I'm going."

I haul myself up before realizing that this equipment will basically do the work for me. Still, with my fear it is not that simple to trust anything, so I keep gripping the rope anyway as I take shuffling steps up.

"Okay, just don't look down. If you look down, it will only make it—" She gasps, almost shrieking in fright, and I pause my steps.

"Tris?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she breathes out. "I almost fell into a shaft. I didn't even see it."

"All right, just be careful," I chastise her. "Watch where you're going."

Which is exactly what I should avoid doing. I glance down despite my own silent warning and even though I am a couple stories off the ground, I have to look away before my stomach churns.

Knowing that this will be impossible without a distraction, I pretend like I am climbing the Ferris wheel with Tris. I take it one reluctant step at a time and imagine that she is right above me, needing my support in case she slips like she almost did the first time.

This time I am much safer though, with the proper gear preventing me from falling to my death. I focus my attention on those minuscule details next: how my boots grip the brick beneath them, how thick the rope I am clinging to is. Inching up the building, second by second, I think I have made decent progress.

"How far are you?" Tris asks. "I'm at the control room, but I don't want to go in yet if you're not close."

Without thinking, I glance down to check how far I have scaled. And just like that, witnessing the hundred foot drop beneath me, my acrophobia paralyzes me.

My airway tightens so that I can only take shallow breaths that are anything but satisfying. My hands begin to tingle, a sign that they are about to go numb. I am dizzy with fear, and right now, I am not in a simulation where this image is normally created. The ground is miles beneath me. It's so far down.

"Tris, I'm having a bit of trouble..." I breathe, staring straight up at the sky in hopes that I won't notice how high up I am. How foolish am I?

"Okay," she says. "Okay. Just concentrate on breathing, and don't look down. Can you count how many windows there are to the top?"

My vision prickles black around the edges as my head swims from the lack of oxygen—this gas mask isn't exactly helping. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit out, "I think I'm panicking."

"Tobias, you cannot pass out," she stresses over the mic.

"I know, I know, I—" Wheezing, I press a hand to my chest to somehow force the pressure out. I cannot go unconscious on the side of this building.

"Justin kissed me," Tris blurts out of nowhere.

My fear dissipates momentarily as her words sink in. "What?!" I exclaim angrily. Not only does that awaken a murderous rage inside me, but is this really the right time to bring this conversation up, when I am stranded in midair and having a panic attack?

"He pulled me aside sometime during the second stage and told me how great he thought I was. I told him he was wrong, and that he barely knew me. Next thing I knew, he kissed me."

As almost all of my terror shifts into fury, I realize what she is doing. She is distracting me from the height. And with my fists clenching around the rope, I think it is working.

"What did you do?" I growl protectively.

"I didn't move, not just because I was shocked. At the time, I was working out my feelings for you, and I wanted to know if it could work with someone like him, or anyone in general." She sighs. "Everything about it was wrong. It was when I finally admitted to myself that I couldn't have anyone else except you, because any other alternative was foreign and uncomfortable."

I find myself relaxing at her words. My lungs clear, the tension is released from my chest. It is strange to think that something good can come from a harmful thing like this, not just her telling me the story but also her figuring out that I am the only one for her from a practical stranger forcing his lips on hers.

"Tobias?"

"Yeah?" I say back, my voice no longer shaky.

"You okay?"

An unsure laugh is expelled from my throat as I press my head against the glass in front of me. "Yeah."

I want to thank her, but then she is already carrying on. "Good. Can you tell me how close you are now?"

My eyes follow the side of the building up to the top. Jeanine's office is unlit like most of the rooms along this wall. When I count, I notice that I am much nearer than I thought.

"I'm about ten below," I answer.

"Okay, I'm not going to respond for a few seconds, so don't worry. I'm throwing the knockout gas in now."

"All right."

After a moment of silence and steady climbing, she returns back to the mic. "I'm in," she confirms. "There were only two in here. Now what do I look for?"

"See if you can find a way to back out of the rotational feed," I say, trying to picture the program in my mind as I take calculated steps. It should be extremely similar if not the same as the Dauntless surveillance system. "Then there should be a tab that will take you to a list of cameras."

Tris searches as I reach the second to the first floor. I wait with my boots pressed to the glass for a further response.

"Got it." I didn't expect anything less; she may not be tech savvy, but she is no doubt intelligent and able to adapt. "So where will I find it? They're marked as numbers and...wait these are floors. One second."

There is a pause while she navigates the system. Irritated by these straps on my legs and the gravitational pull pressing them into me harshly, I ask, "Did you find it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, now look for an options tab. Is there one?"

"Yes."

"Click it and it will show a 'shut down' option. You have to shut down the cameras just in her office and disable the alarm system."

Only a second passes before she says, "It's done."

"That quick? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just pressed the option," she states nonchalantly.

Not that I don't trust her, but I'm not entirely convinced that it was that simple. "Tris, are you sure?"

She sighs through the communication device. "Yes, it's shut down. You can go in now. Do you really think I'd send you into some trap?"

No, but that's not what I meant. I take a deep breath and push myself off the glass—swinging—and bend my knees to lessen the impact when I land on it.

Here goes nothing.

I slam my weight into the glass the next time I hit it. It shatters from the impact, and I am relieved when I land in the office on stable ground again with no alarm sounding. As expected though, gas sprays from each corner of the office, filling the room. It filters through my mask with each breath.

Heading over to the main computer, I plug the hard drive loaded with a bug into it. It does its job, leaving an opening for me to hack in the rest of the way.

"How long will this take?" Tris asks.

"A few minutes, I hope."

I type away, unfazed by the time limit. Soon enough I have complete access to Jeanine's computer, and then I begin digging through files to find anything that matches the suicide serum's description.

Eventually I locate it, buried in files. It is labeled Serum S4. So I type that into the search bar and quickly copy every file that appears onto the hard drive.

Tris gets increasingly anxious the longer it takes. "Is it done yet?"

"Almost. Hang tight."

The download is completed a minute later. I tell her so, but she doesn't reply straightaway.

"Tris?" I call, pocketing the hard drive.

"I think there are people coming," she tells me quietly. How is that possible?

"What?" When all I can hear is her breathing, I order, "Crawl back in the vent."

"There's no time."

"Get your gun out."

"No, I don't want—"

"You don't have to kill anyone, just shoot their leg or arm." I make my way back to the broken window and check my harness again. I need to get down to her as fast as I can. "Tris, if they take you, I don't know how I could get you back." There are no loopholes around a faction detaining someone they caught messing with their security.

"I'm sorry, Tobias," she whispers, her fear of firing a gun overwhelming her to the point where she would rather give herself up. Shouting can be heard through the mic before it cuts out.

"Tris?" I panic. "Tris!"

I scramble out the window, ignoring my fear completely as I rappel down the side of the building. Heights are the least of my worries now that the Erudite could have captured her. When I close my eyes for fleeting moments so I don't have to look at the ground, I see her cornered by men dressed in blue; I see her being dragged off into a cell; I see her being questioned by Jeanine and taunted by serums.

I can't let them torture her again.

TRIS POV

Armed Erudite guards burst into the control room, guns raised and expecting a fight.

But I don't give them one.

"Drop the weapon!" one of them shouts.

I do just that. I drop the gun at my feet and kick it towards them with my hands up. Before I can make any sudden movements, two of them rush at me while the other one trains his weapon on me. Tobias yells at me through the mic, promptly being cut off when one of the guards rips the gas mask from my face.

"Tris Prior?"

My eyes slide shut in defeat. There was no doubt that I would be recognized, especially among the faction who tested—and later tried to kill—me. Now if I somehow did manage to escape, they would hunt me down anyway. There is no use in running.

"Search her," the one with the gun commands. They pat me down and delve into my backpack while I clench my teeth to keep from shuddering. The idea of them leading me to my previous, cramped cell where I awaited my death makes me terror-stricken, but I can't show it.

"What were you doing in here?" I am asked aggressively.

I press my lips together and avoid eye contact.

"Fine," one of them sneers. "Be that way. We'll get our answers eventually."

Their fingers dig into my skin as they steer me out of the control room and through the main lobby of Erudite. A few, exhausted onlookers look up from their books and stare curiously at the interaction—it is not every day that they witness a known Dauntless rebel being taken into custody.

Heat builds behind my eyes when we approach the elevator and I remember what Tobias said just moments ago.

I don't know how I could get you back.

Maybe I should have just fired my own gun, if only to spare him. It makes me sick that I have disappointed him yet again, let him down. I love him, and somehow I keep going out of my way to spite him.

As much as I hope he escaped, I may not see him again if I am locked away, or at least for a long time.

The thought alarms me more than the other consequences of being imprisoned combined. I itch to attempt an escape, but I would get nowhere. So I stay locked in place by the guards until I hear Tobias call out, "Hand her over, and no one gets hurt."

My eyes flash back at him gratefully yet with concern. This isn't much of an intelligent plan, barging in here alone and armed with only a handgun. I guess it is a rhetorical question, but why didn't he just leave me?

"She's coming with us," a guard spits.

"Suit yourself," Tobias says.

A gunshot goes off. Another. Judging by the indistinct screams, he didn't kill them. Paralyzed, I shut my eyelids and block out images of dead bodies clad in gray and my mother and my father and Will, all littered with holes...

My ears ring as I shrink in on myself. He is the only one who can break through my haze.

"...have to run!" Tobias shouts, his eyes alert beneath his gas mask. "Tris, let's go!"

He yanks me into motion, and I can breathe again. Together, we sprint out of Erudite headquarters, making it outside the front doors right before I glance back and see backup chasing after us. I find his hand in the dark and cling to it as we make a break for the train tracks.

There are bullets whizzing past us but they hit the hill beneath our feet, and we are so close to being over it and out of sight. For a few seconds, I think we are safe. I think maybe we got lucky for once in our lives and were able to slip out of their grips—

And then Tobias goes down.

My heart stops beating completely when he collapses with a cry of an obscene word. I don't know where he was shot, but any place isn't good, and how are we going to make it out of here if he can't walk?

All I can do is stare at his slumped body in the dark. And then I spur myself into action because he can't be strong enough for the both of us anymore.

"Tobias," I gasp, fueled only by adrenaline. He moans in response, though who knows if he even hears me. "Tobias, come on. Please get up, please..."

With some coaxing in between his hysterical breaths, I manage to haul him up onto his feet. I sling his arm over my shoulder and let him use me as support as we hobble to the oncoming train.

"Ahhh, shit," he hisses with each step, tearing the mask off his face and tossing it aside.

Once I get him out of here, I can stress about the damage. Right now though, he is alive, and that is all that matters.

"Tobias, you need to help me," I plead, struggling under his weight. The headlights of the train shine on his face, and the shiny patches of tears under his eyes indicate that he is in an immense amount of pain. "As soon as we're on the train, we can get help."

I can't begin to imagine the strength it takes to run alongside a moving train after being shot, but he manages it. When he swings himself in, he crumples into a pained heap against the wall of the car. I quickly slam my hand on the button that closes the door and crouch in front of him.

"Where is it?" I ask, my bottom lip trembling from terror. Deep breaths. If I can approach this in a strictly clinical way, then maybe he will have a better chance of surviving.

But this is Tobias; how can I remain detached?

He huffs out shallow pants as he removes the hand plastered to his thigh. His palm is stained a slick red that glistens in the low light. I swallow, hard, and try to get a better look at it before helping him shrug off his jacket.

"It's...underneath," he chokes out. "They got me from behind."

Tobias clenches his teeth when I loop the arms of his jacket around his upper thigh and tie them tight. In order to form more pressure, I make him prop his knee up and force my hands underneath him and up against the bullet wound. A growl forms in his throat and transforms into a helpless groan.

"I'm going to die," he cries, finally allowing a moment of weakness to slip through.

Tears begin to build on the surface of my eyes because I can't say for certainty that his statement isn't true. Without any medical knowledge, I have no idea whether or not he got lucky with the bullet's path. It could have easily nicked a major artery; he could be swiftly bleeding out as far as I know.

The only previous experience that I have is being shot in the shoulder, but these are two different injuries and therefore that information isn't useful.

I shake my head. "You're okay," I snivel. "Tobias, you'll be okay."

With an unsteady hand, he reaches into his pocket and hands me the hard drive containing Jeanine's files. "Take this," he demands, his normally intense eyes unsteady. I curl my fingers around it and pocket it. "And I need to tell you something."

"Stop, you're not going to die."

"No, I need to get something off my chest," he says urgently, dramatically, as if he will pass at any moment. "I lied to you."

"What?" I exclaim. The triviality of that statement is unfathomable. "I don't care! Let's not do this right now—"

"No, I have to say this. It's important that you know. Nobody else does, but you should." The way his eyelids are beginning to droop causes my mouth to snap shut so he can speak without interruption. "I lied to you, when I showed you my tattoo for the first time and you told me that we had to warn the Abnegation."

He lifts his weary gaze to mine, his bloody hand folding over mine. "Tris, I tried to warn the Abnegation. I went to Marcus, who thought it was a ploy. I—agh," he cries out, squeezing my hand when the pain becomes too much. "I left right after. I didn't even try to warn anyone else."

I understand what he is saying without him actually spelling it out for me. He could have made more of an effort to bring the future attack to light to the Abnegation leaders—or the members, or anyone—but he didn't. More lives could have been spared if he had...

"I didn't save them, any of them." The guilt claws its way up to his throat, strangling him so that he can barely talk. "It tears me apart on the occasion that I think about it. God, it's all my fault."

Hesitating, I struggle to find the proper words to spit out.

"Shhh, no it's not," I reassure him, placing my sticky, wet hand on the back of his neck. "Don't think about it, okay?"

If he wasn't dying, maybe I would say something different. Ultimately, he wasn't responsible for their deaths anyway. But there is still that part of me that agrees with him, deep down, that he could have partly prevented the massacre if he warned some of our former faction members so they could have escaped in time.

It is something he wholeheartedly regrets though, and this is not the last thing I want to remember him by.

"I'm so sorry." Tobias is beginning to slur his words, and I know this is his goodbye. "For everything. For the way I treated you, for breaking your heart. I hate myself for it."

"No, no, no," I whisper brokenly. I clutch onto him, resting our foreheads together as I sob. "We're almost there, we'll get you help..."

"I love you," he murmurs over my blubbering.

"I love you too. Just hold on for me," I beg.

Concentrating on breathing, he closes his eyes as the train slides closer and closer to Dauntless. The memories of us becoming infatuated in initiation and the times when we leaned on each other during the war repeat in my mind, and it becomes increasingly difficult to hold back my forceful crying. I press his head into my shoulder as I sob into his hair, rocking us, wanting to take back every nasty thing I said to him when I returned to Dauntless. I should have fallen back in love quicker, why did I waste so much time...

We were fools to believe that we would turn out all right. When we met in the middle, when we tried to merge that chasm, there was nothing beneath to catch us. Now, we have plummeted straight into that dismal darkness.


DONT THROW ANYTHING PLEASE, IM SORRY

Ok in reality I'm not. Bad stuff is what makes a good story. :)

So I always thought it was interesting that Tobias didn't really think twice about warning the Abnegation after he tried with Marcus in Four: The Traitor, so I wanted to showcase his feelings in this story. He does carry over some anger with them for lying about Evelyn's "death" but I never thought it to be like his character that he didn't blame himself at all when he certainly could have brought the attack to the other leaders' attentions. Just something to think about.