TRIS POV
Marriage, it turns out, changes everything.
Who would have thought that a few documents and a couple of rings could drastically shift a relationship's dynamic? Certainly it demonstrates a more permanent level of devotion to get married, but I couldn't have ever known the other pieces that came with that without experiencing it firsthand.
There is a trust there that I never thought we would be able to attain with our deceptive history. Somehow, I felt that progress through being open to talking about simple, unimportant emotions or thoughts that we had. There is also a certain coordination we share now, as if we are part of the same whole. We may bump into each other during our morning routines, but both of us laugh softly in unison. That is how it has always been between us; we are a compatible train wreck.
Our kisses are different too. Tobias has always sparked an eager ache in me, but since marrying him mere days ago, it is as if every touch, every sensation has been heightened.
It makes me curious about my parents. Did they experience something similar too when they were first married? From my outlook, they were always happy with each other, content. But did completing daily chores together and sharing minimal contact prevent them from knowing the same passion that I know?
Maybe it did, or maybe I didn't know them enough to know that it didn't. All I know is that so far, marriage has been one of the highlights of my life, and I can't stop basking in the euphoric high I feel from being Tobias's wife.
"Hello? Earth to Tris?" Christina snaps her fingers in front of my face. "What is with you today? You're practically glowing."
My face burns. "I don't know what you're talking about." Apparently, none of my friends have figured it out yet, and Tobias and I aren't about to call attention to ourselves about it. But as one part of me wants them to be completely surprised by the news, I am practically bursting at the seams to tell someone.
"It's true," Uriah agrees, sliding his tray to the end of the table and dumping it into the garbage can. "You were literally beaming a moment ago. I don't think I've ever seen you lost in thought without frowning."
I roll my eyes at the accusation, immediately searching for something to distract them. At that moment, Cara walks into the dining hall, trailed by Caleb.
"Oh look, it's Cara," I point out. She must be coming to say goodbye; she was supposed to be settled back into Erudite a few days ago when we first liberated it, but Tobias thought it would be better for her to wait until we switched out some of the guards in case something went wrong.
"Cara!" Christina calls. "You're leaving?"
Cara sets her bag down in one of the seats. "Although I appreciated your company and am grateful for the shelter," she says, "it is about time I go home."
I stand up to hug her, albeit awkwardly. "Thank you. For everything," I tell her. If it weren't for her volunteering to drive, the Dauntless never would have gotten the gas masks that they desperately needed.
"I'm sure I will see you again soon, Tris."
She hugs everyone else goodbye before practically racing out of the dining hall with excitement. All of us are equally glad and worried to see her leave our protection. But I suppose she will still be under Dauntless supervision over in Erudite.
Caleb takes the seat next to me, across from Zeke and Shauna. "Did you eat?" I ask him.
He nods. "I did."
I bite my lip, trying to think of some more cordial conversation. "How is your leg? I noticed that you aren't limping anymore."
"Better. They removed the stitches today," he tells me, his eyes lit up. Like the ordeal of getting grazed by a bullet was worth it for science. "If I could do it all over again, I would have focused on medicine during my Erudite studies."
I lean on my hand. "Maybe you can still be involved with that sort of thing in Abnegation. I'm sure that none of them are much more trained than you are."
"Maybe." His mood shifts, turning solemn. And I wonder if he is homesick—or Susan-sick—until he asks, "What happened the other day in Erudite, Beatrice?"
I knew this would turn up at some point. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh and answer, "I'll tell you eventually. Right now, I can't even give myself a straight answer about that."
It isn't that I do not want my brother to know about my panic attacks; it isn't a lack of trust either. Sometimes, I feel like that information is better off being kept to myself and those close to me, at least until I can find a way to release my fears.
Suddenly there is a shout, directly in my ear, so startling that I almost fall out of my seat. "Tris Prior, what the hell is that?!"
Not just the entire table turns to look at me, but even nearby tables who heard Christina's yelling are interested by her alarm. And it is obvious from where she is pointing that she is referring to my wedding ring.
Heat fills my cheeks from all the attention, all of the eyes on me, and all I can think to say is, "It's Tris Eaton now."
There is a pause before the table erupts into loud congratulations. Those who were close enough to hear begin clapping, and I feel like I am about to die from embarrassment as Christina wraps her arms around me and shrieks in my ear.
Tobias walks in, visibly puzzled by all of the celebrating happening in our little section of the dining hall. I laugh when he is quickly attacked by Zeke and Uriah, who won't stop hitting his shoulders all the way back to the table.
"I take it they found out?" he says.
"Yes!" Christina answers for me, accusingly. "How long have you two been hiding this?"
"Only a couple of days," I reply, locking onto Tobias's gaze. He grins, just enough to soften his hard demeanor.
Uriah shakes his head. "I can't believe I wasn't told about this!"
I notice Shauna sitting across from me with a knowing smile that clues me in. "You knew?" I ask.
All eyes shift over to her as she sips her drink nonchalantly. "I knew before you did," she teases. Tobias looks sheepish that he went to his friend for advice, but I find it endearing.
"You didn't tell me?!" Zeke gasps, a dramatic hand splayed over his heart.
"I don't tell anyone about Four's girl problems."
"All right, all right," Tobias interrupts, trying to get everyone to take it down a notch. "We're sorry we didn't say anything, but we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."
"Didn't want to make a big deal!" Christina chokes. "That is the most Stiff thing I have ever heard!"
She launches into talk of what an ideal wedding should include, and it sounds just as extravagant as I had hoped to avoid. For a minute or so she is offended by my secretive behavior, but in the end she is squeezing the life out of me again as she says, "I can't believe my best friend is married!"
And although our friends are ecstatic for us, their approval is not as significant as Caleb's. Once everyone has expressed their excitement and I settle down at the table again, my brother gives me an accepting smile.
"I'm happy for you, Beatrice," he tells me.
If it is false for my benefit, then I don't really care. I wrap my arms around his stiff shoulders and believe that he is genuine for now. Even if he despises Tobias, he recognizes how important this is to me, and I can give him the leniency to have whatever opinion he wants so long as he tries to be my brother.
After the initial surprise has died down, the Pedrad brothers decide that our marriage is obvious cause for celebration. Dauntless celebration. Which can only mean alcohol will be involved. Tobias and I are in no position to decline, so that is how we end up trailing behind our friends on the way to Uriah's apartment.
I catch his hand between us. "How was your day?" I ask.
He sighs, scrubbing at his eyes. His earlier mood now mirrors the same one he carried into the dining hall earlier: weary. "Fine, I guess. Maybe a little frustrating," he amends. "The Erudite leader, Eli Ferguson, is being uncooperative."
I frown. "Didn't we just liberate his faction? What could he possibly be stubborn about?"
"I suppose the Erudite are starting to catch on too late," Tobias says. "He and his advisors don't like so many of us stationed there, and they don't like our request for more doctors. They are worried that they aren't being liberated, rather 'dictated'."
Being a naturally pessimistic person, I understand assuming the worst in people. But how could the Erudite refuse to work with us when we don't expect much from them, and when we saved them from a much greater evil?
"I told him that they were welcome to join the factionless and that if he was lucky he could be chosen as the next execution victim. He didn't like that."
I smirk. "I doubt that he did."
Up ahead, Zeke pushes Shauna's wheelchair as he runs, hopping on the back when they are at full speed so that they can cruise down the hallway. Uriah spots a few acquaintances on the way, whom he invites to his small party. I watch them, a bit envious that they can compartmentalize like the Dauntless do; somehow they can be soldiers when it is required and young adults when they want to let loose.
But my mind operates differently. "When are we attacking Candor?" I question, glancing up at him.
"Two days."
"Not in the middle of the night this time, right? They would be expecting that." Several of our invasions have taken place at odd, unexpected hours of the night, but once we start doing something repetitively, it suddenly becomes expected.
He shakes his head. "No, there is going to be a snowstorm in the afternoon it looks like," he explains. "We are planning to use it as cover."
I raise my eyebrows, impressed by the idea. It must have been his. "Smart," I remark.
Tobias slides his arm across my shoulders and pulls me tighter into his side. "Yes. It looks like someone's Erudite aptitude is rubbing off on me."
Accepting the compliment more freely these days, I let him lead me into Uriah's apartment.
The party turns out to be more enjoyable than I imagined. This isn't my particularly scene—and neither is it Tobias's—but the gathering is small, and the Pedrads are clearly trying to make it fun by cracking jokes and handing out drinks. The apartment walls are splashed with multicolored lights that remind me of the time Tobias and I went to the initiation party. My second one, that is.
Despite not liking alcohol, I let Zeke stir up a concoction for me that he promises I will enjoy. It is fruity and masks the bitter tastes underneath, and I sip it, satisfied, as I lean against the wall and catch up with Christina.
"So what ended up happening with that Erudite boy?" I ask her.
She tucks her hair behind her ear and pretends to be cool. "Who? Shawn?"
"No, the other Erudite boy you wouldn't take your eyes off of."
Playfully, she hits my shoulder. "We kind of clicked," she admits. "I mean, I couldn't exactly get anywhere. We were in the aftermath of a battle."
"So there was no flirting, then?"
She offers me a sly glance. "I didn't say there was no flirting." Then with a sigh, she adds, "It doesn't really matter, I guess. If the factions are somehow fixed, we won't be able to converse much anyway, let alone date."
Something tells me she will have nothing to worry about when it comes to the factions being unstable, but I don't mention it.
"Enough about me," she says. "How is married life?"
With a smile, I tell her about our wedding. I tell her that it was flawless despite not being society's definition of perfection, and I try to put into words how grateful I am.
"I'm so happy for you. I'll be careful not to blink because I swear if I do, next thing I know you'll be having some cute babies," she laughs, a little tipsy since her last refill.
The comment stings for reasons unknown to her. Of course she couldn't know about my infertility, and she probably didn't mean it regardless based on how close to intoxicated she seems to be. Before I can dwell on it, I excuse myself so that I can find Tobias somewhere in the dim, dancing lighting.
He is sitting with Zeke, leaning back on the couch they both occupy. He looks somewhat relaxed from the small amount of alcohol he has had, and I am glad that he is unwinding if only for tonight. It isn't working well for me.
"How are my two favorite leaders?" I ask when I am close enough for them to hear me.
"Spectacular," Zeke answers. "I'm just giving him an earful about treating you right."
I can't pretend to not think about how both of them acted somewhat recently, covering up and lying at my expense. But I have forgiven both of them because I love them, so that reminder can sting me for the rest of my life, yet it won't change how I feel now.
Tobias shakes his head as he rises. "I don't think you have to worry about that," he says.
"Hey, wait, are you guys leaving?" He is about to scold us before his expression turns mischievous. "Oh, I forget. Newlyweds can get pretty busy."
Tobias's empty cup is launched at him before he leads me away with a hand on my lower back. We call out our thanks to Zeke and Uriah as we leave.
Stumbling down the hall with laughter over something Uriah shouted on our way out, we lean on each other until we can recover. I am slightly buzzed now, and by the time we make it home, a nice, warm sensation has settled over me like a blanket.
And it seems like our moods are reversed as we step inside. Tobias is somber when I lean in to kiss him, and in turn, it sends me spiraling back into the same dark emotions I have been trying to avoid all night.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
He frowns, shifting his gaze out the window, where the moon is in full view tonight. It sends shadows over the contours in his face.
"Tobias," I coax. Because at this point, he better know that he can confide in me.
"We all know where this is heading," he begins vaguely. "We all know what is going to happen to her. And I'm not going to pretend like I'm okay with it."
The unspoken fate of Evelyn has not been brought up in a while, and when it was, he told me that he had to come to terms with it. It was him who reminded himself of her crimes, of her lack of humanity, not me. It is almost as if he is trying to convince himself that she has to suffer because it is inevitable that she will.
I am not going to pretend like I don't despise her. That still doesn't mean she wasn't his mother.
"You don't have to be. She was your mother, Tobias. There is nothing wrong with being conflicted over this."
His eyes lower.
"Did Zeke say something?" I ask, not understanding why this arose so suddenly.
He shakes his head. "We were discussing Candor today, and one of our spies gave us information that made me think she might be hiding out there," he explains. "It just made me realize that I am going to have to confront this sooner than I thought, that's all."
A forceful breath leaves his chest, and I feel it under my hands. This must have been weighing on him all day until he could finally get me alone.
"I don't want to be there when they kill her. I don't want to have to be a leader. And if I don't show up or I show any signs of hesitancy, then I could be branded as a traitor," he expresses.
It is challenging to watch Tobias tear himself apart over an absent, manipulative, violent mother who hasn't loved him for many years. He knows that anyone charged with her crimes deserves the punishment of death, but he can't be a part of it. That, to me, is true bravery: facing what is coming and finding ways to fight the battles that you can control.
Unfortunately, a lot of the shrapnel will always impact him, and he will turn inward to find the flaws in himself.
"Who cares what anyone thinks of you?" I scoff. "You need to process this however you need to, and however long."
Tobias is helplessly silent for a few minutes. My feet ache from being rooted in the same spot, but I can't think of anything to say. How am I supposed to empathize with him, when I knew nothing but love from my own parents?
"I don't know what to do," he admits quietly.
I slip my arms around his middle carefully, knowing that he is still sore in some places. "You don't have to. Just take it a day at a time," I assure him.
I want to tell him that nothing is for certain, that maybe a prison sentence could be worked out, but I know the hurt inside of him screams for due vengeance. I want to remind him that I am his family, that I will never treat him as she did, but I know that a part of him will always long for another type of family that he did not experience, and I can't replace that.
That's okay. Because regardless of how he feels or how he reacts to this unusual situation, he knows that I will be there, and that is more than he has had for most of his life.
For a person like me, war wrenches out all kinds of emotions without having to prompt me much. I fall apart under the weight, suffering mentally for a long stretch of time after my wounds have healed.
However, Tobias has lived his childhood and into adulthood sharing next to nothing and learning how to absorb pain. He doesn't display his sentiments immediately; some things are overgrown inside him, and they don't make an appearance until the occasion where someone takes notice and he can't hold it in anymore.
It is clear that he is distressed every day, the unwanted perks of being a Dauntless leader in wartime. And the night before the Candor attack, it becomes obvious that he is being smothered.
A slam jolts me out of an anxious sleep that had just barely taken over. The bed is jostled as a body hits the floor, and my eyes struggle to adjust. When they do, I finally see that Tobias has knocked over the lamp on the bedside table and fallen off the bed.
His breaths are heavy and rapid, indicating that he suffers the same way I do, even if he doesn't mention it. His hand is still clenching the sheets, and he is slumped back against the mattress.
When I come to my senses, I crawl across the bed on my stomach.
"Tobias," I murmur.
No response. I try to consider a way to help him like he helps me with my panicking. And I remember how he pulled my hand to his chest and made me breathe with him. Maybe something similar would remind him of us going into his fear landscape together.
Unknowing if it will make a difference, I slide my arm around him, placing my palm over his racing heart.
"It's just a dream," I whisper as I rest my head on his shoulder. But we both know that it isn't.
His initial shock fades with each breath he takes. The sheets are no longer trapped in his fist, and the wet patch on the collar of his shirt is beginning to cool. When his heart settles into a less erratic rhythm, I figure that he is back in reality.
I don't let go of him though. I bury my face in the back of his neck, my forehead against his tattoo.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.
Tobias rests his hand over mine, covering it almost completely. It takes a few moments of us inhaling and exhaling in the dark silence for him to answer.
"The Amity attack," he says. "I still get that suffocating feeling sometimes. It's nothing."
And I know that is all I'm going to get. Considering his guarded mind, I am glad that he would let me in on his nightmares, however curtly.
After some time passes, he untangles himself from my arms and walks to the bathroom, mumbling something about changing his shirt. He had mentioned once that he had a habit of sweating through night terrors, originating sometime during his childhood, I assume. Lying back on the pillows again, I watch as he shuts the door slightly before he flips on the light, leaving a wide crack so that he won't be trapped.
My eyebrows draw in when I see him pull his shirt over his head. From here, I still notice the yellow-brown bruises on his abdomen in the mirror. Along with his reaction that woke us both up, it is a reminder that he is not okay underneath the facade.
He splashes some water on his face from the tap, leaning onto the sink, his arms defined.
I can't help but worry: if the strongest among us is crumbling, how long will it be before we all do?
The train tracks above us shield some of the army from the incoming onslaught of snowflakes. Not me. When I can no longer bear the snow sticking to the transparent face of my gas mask, I stand behind Tobias so that he can shield me.
From down here, the Merciless Mart towers over us so high that the blizzard prevents us from spotting the top. We must be like ghosts to the factionless; there is no way they will see us coming until we are at their doorstep.
The Dauntless are uncharacteristically silent as we await orders. Even Uriah stands beside me, stoic. This moment could potentially give us the massive advantage we needed. This could be the moment we take back every faction.
Or, this could be a massacre on our side. They could be prepared for us for all we know.
Tobias's hand—the one that isn't handling a rifle, that is—hangs limply at his side. I concentrate on it, watching as he clenches his fist before relaxing. Understanding the pressure running through every one of his veins, I reach out and take his hand in mine. It is warm and soothes my frozen, aching joints.
Truthfully, I shouldn't even be here right now. But I think that he was too preoccupied the last day or so to raise our classic argument again. If he had the opportunity, I am positive that I would have received an earful about staying out of harm's way.
He may not view it as I do, but I need to be alongside my faction as we free the rest of the city from factionless tyranny. I have never been the person to watch as others suffer and do nothing about it. For his sake though, I did promise to not linger in the front.
A voice chatters so quietly that I wonder if it is that howling wind at first. Then I realize that it is coming from Tobias's earpiece when his head snaps up to attention.
"All right, they're in position," he announces. "It's time."
On his command, the Dauntless rush forward through the snow, their black being concealed by the omnipresent white. I don't follow as fast, my boots threatening to slip on the buried cement. Christina happens to fall in place next to me, and I take a grateful breath of relief.
We burst into Candor from all sides and immediately overwhelm the few guards in the lobby, who surrender. Before I can do more than blink at the misplaced, multicolored clothing, the factionless are dropping their guns and falling to their knees.
I frown. Why would they give up so easily, when we had to shoot our way into Erudite last time?
Up ahead, I hear Tobias give the order to move up to the next floor. Christina yells something to me that I don't hear in the chaos, and all I can do is shake my head at her with confusion as I drag her along to the stairwell.
With our shoes tracking in wet snow, the shiny tiles become so slick that I notice a couple of soldier lose their balance and hit the floor. Even in the stairway, a man in front of me hits his shin with a groan on the way up. I move up only after he gets up, not forgetting what it is like to be trampled.
I recognize the random floor we spill out onto; it is the Gathering Place, which I'm sure most of the Dauntless are also familiar with after making fun of it during our stay here in the last war. I hear intense shouting ahead as I smack into someone as they come to an abrupt stop. Standing on my toes for a better look, I find that trying to peer through this crowd is useless, so I use my small size to my advantage and slip in between people.
"Keep your hands up!" people in the front scream as they aim their rifles forward. And once I am almost to the massive Candor scales decorating the floor in the center of the great room, I finally see that we are facing off with a crowd of factionless.
And Tobias is in the very front row.
My breath is trapped in my throat when I manage to find him. But he isn't in any danger, I realize, because all of the factionless have seemed to surrender, their guns all piled on the floor in front of them.
So they are surrendering. All of them—well, at least those occupying Candor.
"Shut up!" shouts Tobias, his mask gone. It gets drowned out for a minute or two, but eventually all of the Dauntless spread the word to quiet down, and the message spreads efficiently. It is so impressive that my mouth drops open.
"Here's what is going to happen!" he yells for those nearest to him to hear. "We're going to clear a walkway for the factionless! We're going to pat them down before allowing them to go upstairs! Keep your guns drawn!"
I tear off my mask, hoping that without it blocking half of my senses, I can somehow get a better idea of what is going on.
"So they surrendered!" Christina calls once the chattering has picked up again. "Isn't that good?"
"I don't know," I answer honestly. Some of the factionless giving up sounds ideal; I almost wonder if this is one of Evelyn's tricks.
But the way Tobias is handling it tells me that if it was, her plan would fail. He specifically told us to keep our guns out as we check for any more of their weapons, and even if we were outnumbered—which we aren't—there is no possibility of them overwhelming us when we have this much firepower.
Some of the Dauntless in the back are forced upstairs to guard so that we can make room for the factionless. As they pass us, a few get spit on and a few fights break out, but Zeke disciplines everyone right away to keep the process running smoothly. I also help to hold people back and keep tensions down around me.
And the last thing I expect to see anyone I could possibly know on the factionless side. But to my dismay, I recognize the curly, brunette hair that so suddenly passes in front of me that I almost miss her.
Cassie.
The factionless are divided into three floors with a Dauntless perimeter, in case any of them try anything. I cross my arms as I watch them sit and chatter with a scrutinizing gaze, trying to figure out what their plot is.
Christina returns to my side when we locate each other again.
"Who is that?" she asks, pointing deliberately at the girl who is clearly the leader of this group. Tobias figures this out in no time and tells one of the soldiers to cuff her.
I huff. "Cassie."
With a zip tie securing her hands, Cassie walks towards us with two guards and Tobias flanking her. She sees me and sends a patronizing glance my way, knowing that I will pick it up. I have only met this girl once, and I don't even remember if I spoke two words to her, but I am not stupid. I recognize a rivalry when I see one.
"Wait a minute, is this the girl Uriah told me about? The one you were jealous—"
"I'm not jealous," I snap.
Christina gives me a sly gaze. "Uh huh."
Okay, fine. Maybe I am harboring some resentful feelings towards Cassie, but can I blame myself? Throwing herself at my husband is one thing; trying to kiss him when he is miles away from me and supposedly dead is another. If she had tried anything, I couldn't have known about it.
But she didn't do anything with Tobias, and I know this because I trust him. I would have believed him without the truth serum to give him an extra shove—well, maybe not when he initially resurrected, but eventually.
Cassie strides past us with her head held high, and Tobias meets my eyes only for a second, silently asking me to join them. Whatever she confesses to in the interrogation room will need to be heard and decided upon by at least a few of the higher-ups, and without Mike here, I technically fall into the third leader position.
"Good luck," Christina says. "Try not to rip her head off."
Although the idea is tempting, I know that the best way to win this petty game is with indifference and a level head.
I follow the group down the hall and into one of the elevators. Tobias watches the numbers change as we climb floor after floor, eagerly awaiting his chance to leave the packed space. Soon enough we arrive at one of the sentencing floors, and we step into an interrogation room that is identical to the one that Jack Kang discussed my breaking and entering crimes with me. Outside the window, evening is well underway, or so it seems with the snowstorm finally calming.
"Sit," Tobias demands.
Cassie sits in one of two chairs that face each other from across a table. Between Tobias, Zeke, the military general, a couple of soldiers, and I, nobody else bothers to take a seat.
We stare at her.
"What?" she asks.
"Better get talking, sweetie," Zeke tells her. "In a minute, we won't be so nice."
She rolls her eyes. "Fine, you want to know why we surrendered?"
"That would be a start," I say, feigning boredom.
An unpleasant snort escapes her. "Not all of the factionless are bad, you know," she begins. "A lot of us don't agree with Evelyn's tactics, but most of us don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," Tobias growls.
Her demeanor softens, and it is obvious that she is still pining over him despite the fact that he used her and switched sides. "Four, you know better than most people how we live. You know that so many of us placed our trust in Evelyn to lead us because she promised a future with no factions, where we didn't have to suffer on the streets anymore."
Well, they chose an awful leader, then. Because we all know that she and her lackeys surrendered after figuring out that the Dauntless are inching their way to winning this war. Why support an unstable tyrant when she is losing?
Cassie continues, "When we heard you had taken Erudite, we knew Candor was next. So we waited, pretending to set up a defensive perimeter to let Evelyn think that we were going to put up a fight."
"So you basically want to lose?" Zeke arches an eyebrows.
"Would you die for her after everything she has done if you had an out?" She shakes her head. "The suicide serum put everyone on edge, but we couldn't question it. Then there was the gas, and the bomber she sent into Dauntless, and she traded our retreat for Jeanine, and that began to really turn people away. Besides, Evelyn has always been stingy with supplies."
I look over at Tobias. He was right; the entire bulk of the factionless was never going to stay faithfully behind her.
"So we made a sacrifice. You all may revert back to the faction system when this is over, but that would be better than living under her rule any longer." She eyes Tobias. "But I did manage to convince most of the people here that you are different, Four. That as a leader, you might help disband the factions anyway."
I bristle, loathing the way she talks about him, as if she knows him. Meanwhile, Tobias stiffens, probably worried about the idea sounding treasonous. However, nobody else in the room seems to have an adverse reaction to it, and it makes me wonder just how many people aren't opposed to ridding the city of factions based on the turmoil of the last two years.
"So where do you stand?" the general asks. "Are you going to fight with us, or let us do the dirty work for you?"
Cassie shrugs. "I might be able to convince some of them to help take Evelyn down."
"How can we even trust you?" I finally ask.
She looks me up and down. "Honey, how do I know I can trust you? How are you even here? Last I checked, you aren't a leader."
"Some people consider me important," I answer flatly.
"Your boyfriend didn't when we...you know. That was after he left you."
The way her eyes shift to Tobias lets me know that it is a lie if her words themselves didn't already. I can't help it; I laugh, even though my blood is boiling protectively at the far-fetched thought of him sleeping with her.
"My husband wouldn't have given you the time of day had it not been beneficial for Dauntless," I say. "Nice try, but your dreams still aren't reality."
That seems to take her down a notch. Next to me, Tobias's lips twitch upward. Zeke interrupts with, "As much as I love a good cat fight, we really need to come to an agreement."
Tobias takes over. "Tell you what," he says. "If we win this war, in whatever deal we make to settle the disputes between the factionless and the factions, your factionless friends will be treated well. You'll get supplies and housing as if you live in a faction. On the condition that you will keep them in check until this is all over."
Something tells me he would make that change for every factionless regardless, though Cassie agrees to the terms without knowing that. So much for being familiar.
But the reminder of our successful siege of Candor and peaceful arrangements being made is enough to convince me that maybe this war is coming to a favorable end. Just maybe.
Zeke smacks his hands together. "That settles it then."
He ushers out everyone else as they discuss their options for places to move the traitor factionless. I follow them, lingering by the doorway as Tobias frees Cassie. I don't know what I expect to eavesdrop on, but I definitely don't leave empty-handed.
"Was any of it real, Four?" she asks meekly. "What you said about wanting to be with me when the war was over?"
I hold my breath for his response, even though it doesn't surprise me.
"I'm sorry if I somehow led you to believe it was, but I wasn't interested. Not even for a second," he tells her sincerely. "Thank you for helping me get those bombs regardless. I don't think you will regret that when this war ends."
And it should make a prideful smile overwhelm my face that his loyalty is pure. Instead, all I can think about is that they had a history that I don't know anything about. There was a two-month gap in which I wasn't there, in which Tobias thought he was approaching the end of his life.
I never thought these past insecurities would creep in again, yet they have. Sometimes I wonder why he stays after how we have treated each other in some painful instances. Sometimes I remember that I will always be the short, frail Stiff with a sarcastic attitude, and there will always be girls like Cassie with a natural beauty and charisma that I lack.
Telling myself that there are more important things to be considering than my self-doubt, I walk away from the scene and try to shake it off. It doesn't mean that my vulnerability won't follow me.
TOBIAS POV
My mind is scattered, even more so when I focus on the hundreds of breaths in the room. Add in an occasional snore, and I know that there is no way I am going to get to sleep.
Since the storm didn't come to a close and it was getting late, we decided it would be best if we didn't try to make it home tonight. The Dauntless all piled their cots in one of the open floors of Candor as they once did and talked themselves to death even after the lights were out. Somehow they eventually quieted down despite the excitement of today, but the absence of whispers isn't enough for me.
It certainly doesn't help that Tris is rigid in my arms. We had pushed our cots together when we settled down for the night, though she has been unusually silent since we spoke with Cassie. Something tells me that is why she has been discreetly avoiding me.
And I should be reveling in the fact that we now have a massive advantage, that I was correct in assuming that we wouldn't have to face the entire factionless force. But with Tris a thousand miles away...
She eventually cannot pretend to be drifting off either. Without warning, she carefully extricates herself from my grasp and tiptoes across the room to the stairway, indicated by the glowing exit sign.
Rubbing the heaviness out of my eyelids, I push myself off of the cot and head in the same direction, somehow dodging arms and legs that hang off onto the floor. When I reach the staircase, I hear her footsteps above me, and I know where she is headed.
The trial room is just as menacing as it has always been. It will forever stain my mind that this place is where I was forced to drudge up my concealed history and controversial feelings in front of two factions. This is also the place where Candor rebels were forced to die by their own hands. I think it is fitting that the gaps in the walls that normally welcome in the outside are now boarded up, forcing the truth to remain trapped inside, even though it refuses to be.
Tris stands in the middle of the Candor scales decorating the dusty floor, looking back and forth between each one.
"I threw a chair out one of those windows once," she admits unexpectedly.
I raise my eyebrows as she turns to face me.
"Just something I thought of. Every time I return to Candor, I think of all the times I wasn't honest with you," she says. "It makes me want to tell you everything when I remember how I acted during the first war."
Throwing a chair out a window seems like an inane thing to be honest about, but I don't tell her that.
"Well, you can start by explaining why you are acting so guarded," I reply.
Dodging me all the way up until we were going to sleep. Answering me with sharp replies and tight-lipped smiles. Her insincerity did not go unnoticed, and I still don't understand what it is about or why she directed it at me.
"I'm getting to that," she retorts. "I don't want to keep anything from you, especially not since we are married."
Then why are you? I want to ask. But it is clear that she is hesitating because whatever is on her mind is not something she wants to express.
She sighs, her figure sagging in the dim, emergency lights along the edges of the room. I step closer so that there are only a couple of feet between us.
"What is it, Tris?"
With a humiliated expression, she says, "Sometimes I don't understand why you stay with me."
I stare at her blankly, baffled.
"And I know we have gone over this many times before, but it doesn't stop the insecurities from haunting me occasionally."
Realization sets in. "This is about Cassie," I say. So I was correct.
Tris wears her pain like she has been wearing a mask, finally pulling it back to reveal herself. "It may seem insignificant for me to care, but she is pretty and obviously likes you, and you were all alone with her in a miserable time and far away from your old life. You were away from me."
I scowl at her insinuation. "Do you really think that little of me, that that is all I want? That it would be expected for me to have sex with some other woman because I didn't think I was coming home?"
To me, the idea is unthinkable and genuinely stupid. The idea of sharing those moments with anyone else but Tris makes my stomach lurch. But though it makes me angry, I wish I could have expressed that more calmly because clearly she is self-conscious about this topic, which is mostly my fault considering I am the one who left in the first place.
"I'm trying not to be dishonest with you for once, okay?" she says miserably, crossing her arms and turning away. "I don't get it, and I probably never will. You said it yourself once that it wasn't easy being with me. There are hundreds of other girls who wouldn't treat you like I have. They wouldn't leave you like I did, and they don't have mental disorders. There are beautiful girls and caring girls and—"
This rant has gone on too long, I have decided. For her to think that those basic qualities are what I should find attractive shows me that she is clueless about why I fell in love with her. Whereas I used to laugh at her critical view of herself, I now find it frustrating that she doesn't see herself how I do.
"And there is only one Tris," I cut her off, reaching out for her shoulder.
She describes herself as plain; if only she could see how her presence fills a room. She thinks her past makes her undesirable; if only she knew that my magnetic pull to her strengthened through war. She believes her difference from what is considered normal makes her unattractive; if only she grew up in a world where she could fully embrace her Divergence like I have.
Nobody could dare to have her complexities. That is why she is the only girl who ever drew my attention. That is why she wears a ring now.
She is stiff for a moment, on the defensive, before she gradually warms up enough for me to wrap my arms around her from behind.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I love you because you're different, not in spite of it," I remark softly, sadly. "How could I be interested in anyone else when I have you?"
It takes a minute for my words to prompt a response. "Thank you," she eventually whispers.
I understand. Sometimes we all need reminders that we are wanted, that we are loved, when fear bears down to tear us apart from all angles. Too often do people forget that just because someone is loved does not mean they love themselves.
"I don't know why I'm acting like this," she groans, turning to face me. "I just got stuck on the image of you and her. I guess the uncertainty of everything is...too much."
Her eyes are as piercing as they would be in the light. "I'm glad you told me," I say. I feel like this is the point we have been clawing to get to throughout the span of our relationship, and it makes me proud that we have come this far to be able to share what we consider the insignificant things.
"And the world may be uncertain right now," I tell her, "but we are the only thing that is certain."
It reminds me of what I had told her in Amity, how we were all right, even if nothing else was. It is sobering to realize that even up until our marriage, there has never been a dull moment where we could be isolated from tragedy. That comes with positive and negative aspects; it has torn us down to the raw frameworks only to build us into something unbreakable.
Tris initiates the kiss, her arms around my neck to coerce me down to her. I close my eyes and slip my hand under the back of her shirt, enjoying the alone time and thanking God that today ended this way. It could have gone awry, but instead it fell into place. Finally, things seem to be going right for us.
She releases me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "So what's the plan now?" she asks.
"We go straight for the factionless. And we end it."
Ok so I guess now is the time to tell you guys that these three stories have been on Wattpad this whole time?...
Please don't be mad haha! I know some of you knew about this, but I didn't want everyone to jump over to Wattpad because I wanted the stories to get some love over here too. But now we are caught up to speed over here, so expect there to be a lot longer waits in between updates. And don't worry about going to Wattpad if you normally read on fanfiction because I will be posting at the exact same times from now on!
I'm super excited to post the next chapter because I have been planning it for a long time. It is going to drastically change things so stay tuned!