Remember Me
Disclaimer: Divergent and its characters do not belong to me. Characters and some ideas are based on Veronica Roth's series, as are any quotes used. Also, in this chapter, some additional credit is due to Herbert Kretzmer (Lyrics for the English adaptation of Les Misérables) and Billy Joel for their respective songs (lyrics centered and italicized).
Rated M for language, adult situations, references to childhood trauma, etc
Chapter Twenty-Six
My mind finds a way to silence the noise that, though soft in nature, is deafening to me.
People dressed all in black and gloom are talking in hushed voices, and somber music plays softly in the background, but none of it reaches me. The only thing I'm fully conscious of is a small, soft hand that holds mine tightly, and the firmness of the wooden pew pressed against my back.
Even when the officiant starts the service, the words barely reach me. I focus solely on the small circles Tris traces on the back of my hand, letting me drift as far away from where I am as possible.
"... admired and loved by all who knew him," comes the officiant's voice, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't...
There's a creaking sound from my door as Beatrice's face is lit up from the dimly lit hallway. "Eaton?" she whispers as she pokes her head around the edge of the door, trying to keep her voice quiet. "You here?"
"Yes." This one word sends shocks of pain throughout my body.
I can hear her as she sneaks in and closes the door behind her, cloaking her in my darkness before she crawls on all fours to my side. It's not until she's crawled under the bed and right next to me that I see her eyes, red from crying, bright in contrast to her plain white dress. Still, she smiles at me instead of telling me why she's sad. "Wanna go to our place?"
All I can do is nod because the pain is still too much otherwise. She must know because she crawls back out to stand up and holds out her hand. Part of me wants to protect Beatrice, but I know there's nothing I could do, and she doesn't want my saving anyway. Besides, Beatrice has always been strong in ways the rest of us aren't. She doesn't need me so much as I need her.
It takes a minute to get me out from under the bed and up on my feet, but once I am, it's easier to push through the pain. Beatrice carefully sneaks us out of my room and into a hidden passageway tucked away in a storage closet. She found it a long time ago, and so far, no one seems to know she found it.
Beatrice helps me climb the many stairs, up and up and up until we find the tiny little door that opens to a tiny little room, just big enough for the two of us to be safe. Even if just for a little while…
There isn't much up here. There's a great big blue plastic bin that takes up a whole corner of the room, but we keep it pushed in front of the one square window across from the door. Other than that, there was only just one taped up box when we first got here. Now there are three, stacked next to the door. Beatrice snuck up a couple of blankets to curl up under when it's cold, the cracked little window doing little to keep us warm but everything in giving us hope.
It's because of window that Beatrice showed me there's outside, but I've never been there. We only get to watch it from inside.
She helps me sit down on the big blue plastic bin so I can look out window before she settles beside me. "What's the view from our castle today?" she asks as she squints through the dirty panes to try and see.
"Castle?" I've not heard that word before, so I look to her to explain.
Beatrice smiles at me, brighter than the sun, even when window is clean. "Mama teached me a new song 'bout castles on clouds, Eaton! She say that's what we finded up here. There's a song and everything!"
Beatrice leans forward against window, looking outside again, her eyes glazed over the way they do when she sings. Sure enough, in a clear voice, she begins a song.
There is a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren't any floors for me to sweep
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a room that's full of toys
There are a hundred boys and girls
Nobody shouts or talks too loud
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a lady all in white
Holds me and sings a lullaby
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch
She says, "Cosette, I love you very much"
I know a place where no one's lost
I know a place where no one cries
Crying at all is not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud
She's quiet after she sings, her eyes still far away as she stares outside. We sit still in silence for a long time, until a cloud lazily crosses over the sun, casting shadow on Beatrice's face. "What's a Cosette?" I ask, finally.
Beatrice has taught me many words; words she learns from the person she calls Mama, that she gets to see sometimes. Her Mama teaches her so much, not just words, but songs, too. Beatrice likes to sing to me, especially this one song called a lullaby. She says lullabies help you sleep, and she was right.
Beatrice asks me about my Mama sometimes, but I've never met a Mama for me. I don't think I have one, so it's up to Beatrice to teach me the words and songs she learns from hers.
Beatrice's face scrunches up in thought. "Mama say it means, 'little thing.'" Her big blue eyes meet mine before she shrugs. "There's lots of words I don't know still, but Mama'll teach me what it all means someday," she says as if she's sure of it. "The songs help me 'member. and it makes it feel like Mama's with me."
I just nod as I stare out the window again. Down below is what Beatrice calls Garden. There's a white fence all around plants that are mostly green, but with other colors like red and yellow as well. Sometimes, there are people in it, taking care of the plants, but most of the time, Garden is empty.
Beatrice is quiet for a long time before she says, "I asks Mama if she can see you, Eaton. She says she can't 'cos you're not hers."
"Oh." My heart leaps at the thought of Beatrice asking for me, but then a tear falls from one of her eyes and my heart hurts again. She tries to make it go away before I can see, but she's not fast enough. "Why are you crying?"
Beatrice shrugs a little, not meeting my eyes. "'Cos everyone 'serves to have a Mama."
We sit in silence for a minute before I take her hand, hoping she won't cry. "It's okay. Who needs a Mama when I get to have a Beatrice?"
Beatrice smiles real big when I say that, even though a couple tears fall anyway. She squeezes my hand and says, "I won't never leave, neither. I promise."
My heart knows it's a promise she can't keep, but I nod anyway. I know when she goes, it won't be her choice. We never get a choice.
A sound from outside brings Beatrice's eyes back to window. "Oh! It's Dogs!"
"Dogs?" Another new word, but as I look out the window again, I understand. A while ago, something new ran by Garden and made sounds we'd never heard before. It had hair all over its body, the same color as Beatrice's.
"Yeah! Mama says it's a amnimal...aminal? Animinal? I can't say it!" Beatrice throws both hands over her mouth to hide a quick fit of giggles. When she recovers, she goes on, "This kind is Dogs! Mama says they pets. That means people get them for fun. You don't eat them or nothing, and you play with them! Mama says Dogs is nice."
Dogs makes more sounds from outside, and Beatrice points at it. "Mama says that they tails move when they happy." Dogs' tail is moving quite a lot as it stares off at something we can't see.
Beatrice and I scoot closer to each other and the window. Beatrice rests her head on my shoulder as we watch, and we stay this way for a long time. Beatrice makes me feel safe and happy. I didn't know I could feel that way until we first came up here.
When a cloud passes over the sun again, Beatrice lifts her head to look at me. "Are you sleepy?"
I never lie to Beatrice, because she always knows, so I just nod. I don't sleep well after punishments, and yesterday's was the worst ever.
Beatrice moves from beside me and gathers up the extra blankets, bunching one up to put on her lap. She looks to me as she pats it like she does when she wants me to lay down. I learned a long time ago not to fight her on it, just like she doesn't fight me when I stay up to watch over her on nights she sneaks in to see me.
Once I'm as comfortable as I can get, Beatrice pulls the last blanket over me and tucks it around me. Then, like always, one hand finds mine to hold while the other goes to gently play with my hair. She's learned that it's the only way to get me to sleep."
"Want me to sing the lullaby for you, Eaton?" she asks in a soft voice, barely over a whisper. "The one Mama sing for me?"
"Yes, please." After she sang it the first time, I have had her sing it to me every time we come up here. I'd give anything to hear Beatrice's voice again. It's my favorite sound-
I feel a nudge on my ribs and I'm ripped from the memory of a time that doesn't feel so long ago, now. Even though nothing is the same, it feels as if nothing has changed, either, and really, nothing has. Not the important stuff, anyway.
I look beside me to see Tris looking at me with a soft expression. Even though none of this is really about me, as far as she's concerned, I'm the only person that matters. She's the only person who has cared for me this deeply, this intently, and I'm not sure what to make of that right now.
It's only as she asks me, "Are you ready?" that I realize the service is over, and everyone is waiting for Tris and me to begin filing out of the chapel.
The next half-hour is a blur of faces and empty well-wishes that Tris helps me float through without much effort. However, she is eventually pulled away, not long after the chapel is finally emptied completely, to help a few workers with the refreshments. Thankfully, my despondency is taken as a manifestation of grief, leaving my encounters brief but not misunderstood.
By the time Tris can join me again, I feel completely hollow and numb, though the feeling of her hand in mine brings me some sense of safety. "We're almost done," she whispers to me, giving my hand a squeeze.
We're almost done…
"You're meant to be in the kitchen, Ms. Wright," comes Mr. Vega's voice from behind me. I knew he was here but hadn't acknowledged his presence until now.
Tris squeezes my hand a little before releasing it so we can both turn to face Mr. Vega. "Anything I can do to be of help?" she asks politely, though I'm certain her gaze is anything but.
Mr. Vega smirks, his eyes flashing just briefly before he cocks his head to the side; a challenge. "There is still work to be done. You've got to earn your keep, Ms.-"
"Oh, you leave the girl alone, Mr. Vega!" A stout old woman with a stern expression practically comes out of nowhere to Tris' side. "Come on, now, you don't put the family to work at a funeral! This is work for interns, not the soon-to-be daughter-in-law! And I'd go as far as to say Tobias feels the same way, with a look like that." She drops her voice a bit as she adds to Tris, "I mean, if looks could kill, am I right?"
I can't help smiling a little as she puts her two frail hands on her hips, daring for Mr. Vega to challenge her. I have no idea who this woman is, but she's just become one of my favorite human beings in the world.
Vega must know the woman because he relents. "Right. I'll find someone on the staff," he says stiffly before he goes.
Turns out my hero is Ms. Georgia G. Redmond, one of the first clients Marcus ever worked with. While she swears she knew he was "no angel in any sense," she claims he was the reason she had any life at all, to which she'd be forever grateful. Nobody's perfect.
Nobody except-
"We're almost done," comes Tris' reassuring refrain once Ms. Redmond has moved on from paying her respects. I take a deep breath to calm myself that is quickly met with a kiss on my cheek. Tris' smile after is even quicker, but everything I need in this moment, maybe even for-
-a camera flash interrupts the moment, and I can't help but scowl at the photographer. It only makes him smirk, clearly amused. "Gotta document," he says evasively before he moves on.
"Ass," Tris mutters with narrowed eyes, which makes me laugh.
Unfortunately, this simple moment brings about a troubling thought that I've been squashing every instance it tries to surface, but can no longer put off. "I think there's still something that I need to do, but I don't think I'm ready to do it."
I'm struck by my candor only briefly before I see it reflected in Tris' face, while simultaneously being a knowing look. Of course, she knows.
"It won't be easy... but you deserve at least that much," she affirms.
I believe her. I really do.
I keep my eyes trained downward to watch as I take her hands in mine for a moment, drawing from her well of courage. Her hands are so tiny in mine, but still so strong. Her strength and courage fill me up, warm, and comforting. "I don't know how I'd do this without you," I confess, but I'm sure she already knows.
And yet, her eyes still gloss with emotion. This woman...
After a few minutes of quiet comfort, we walk to the entrance to the chapel wordlessly before stopping at the threshold. It's eerily quiet, now, void of the sound I blocked out before.
"I can wait here, make sure no one disturbs you," Tris offers. All I can do is a nod in gratitude before moving forward, making my way up the aisle between the pews.
His casket is glossy, reflecting the candlelight that fills the room with a soft glow. Somehow, I'm still left feeling cold.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Something about my solitude here triggers something deep in my mind to come alive. I can practically see Marcus' cold black-pit eyes as he folds his arms across his chest, amused by my misery.
"This was all for your own good, Tobias… to make you better, stronger. Everything has turned out exactly as I intended, my son. You are everything I am and everything I wanted you to be." His smirk contorts his features into something monstrous, his eyes void of anything but malice...
The cruelty from my childhood smarts in my chest, stings among the scars that still linger from it. His words echo in my thoughts, throughout the chapel, weighing me down as the restraints had so long ago. The impact from the beatings, the torture, the intended cruelty rises within me like anxiety so often tries to consume me. So many years spent inflicting as much horror as he could muster, in hopes of turning me into the product of his labor...
No.
"You're wrong. You've always been wrong, Marcus. I am nothing like you, and I am everything you are not. And guess what? I'm the one that's still here, see? I'm the one that gets to live on while you get to rot. You will never take anything from me ever again… because even when you tried to take away everything from me, you managed to give me the one thing I ever needed. In your effort to gain control, you lost it, and you will never get it back."
I think of all the times I almost gave in, all the times where something inside me saved me. Maybe it started with Tris, strengthened and solidified by her constant faith in me, and maybe it was her that taught me to believe in it, but in the end, it was me who saved me. After Tris was taken away, there was almost a decade that I faced alone at the hands of Marcus' abuse, and still I found a way to escape, to make something of what he left me with. I did that.
"You didn't win," I tell the void of what's left. "You tried so hard to break me, spent so much time trying to destroy me… but I'm still here. I still feel. I still have hope that this world can be better than the Marcus Eatons that still inhabit it. I still believe in the world Tris once saw, the one she somehow still believes in… I see what happened despite you, and all because of us."
I let myself remember a little girl whose mind and spirit never faltered in the face of depravity, who gave a little boy something to fight against. I remember the friend who took horrors and turned them into hopes. I would have been lost without her.
"You didn't win," I tell him one last time before I turn my back on him for good.
Finally.
With every step I take away from the casket, the lighter I feel. It's over. It's finally over.
When I make my way back to the chapel doors, I'm met with the sight of Andrew Prior being stared down by his daughter. As satisfying as this view is, I'm wary of his presence.
Well, it's almost over.
Upon seeing me, Andrew nervously addresses me. "I've been made aware that you took a cab here this morning. Is there something wrong with your vehicle?"
I try to keep my irritation under control. "No. Tris and I were going to pick it up after this whole thing finishes up," I say as casually as I can manage, though it doesn't hit Andrew casually in any sense.
Andrew doesn't even meet my eyes. Fucking coward. "If you're willing, I can have an intern retrieve it for you."
So much for control.
"Why, Andrew? Does it look bad if Marcus' son comes and goes in a cab? Still trying to cover and make appearances for that steaming pile of shit?"
To Andrew's credit, he barely flinches. "No, Tobias. Truthfully, I have to get back to the office soon. I can't lose the whole day, and with the rehearsal dinner being this evening, I can't be kept away much longer." He shifts nervously but finally looks me in the eye. "While I know it's too little, too late regarding your… regarding Marcus, I figured there was something I could do for you today. I don't like to assume anything, but still, I would venture as far as to say I'm certain you would rather not leave Tris here alone, and selfishly, I do not want that either. So whatever reason you want to attach behind my offer, I hope you take me up on it regardless."
Tris is stiff beside me but doesn't say anything. Unfortunately, I feel we all agree that leaving Tris here alone is something that shouldn't be happening. Still, I make sure to make eye contact with her to gauge what she feels comfortable with.
Her nod is so subtle, I don't even think her father could pick up on it. More than anything, I saw her eyes soften; relenting.
Reluctantly, I nod back to Andrew before handing my keys over. "Make sure they know no funny business, Prior, or I swear to God-"
"I will, I promise," he says quickly, taking the keys before I can change my mind. He hands me a small pad of paper for me to write the Pedrad's address on before quickly taking it back and storing it in his breast pocket. He gives one last fleeting look to Tris, riddled with guilt, before returning to the crowd.
With us left alone, Tris finally turns to look at me. All trace of the last few minutes is as good as gone from her expression as she looks deeply into my eyes with a strange intensity. "You're amazing, you know that?"
I can't help shaking my head. "I learned it from you."
She laughs a little before taking my hand. "Let's get this over with," she says before leading us the way Andrew went.
By the time Andrew's intern is back with the car, it's deemed our duties have been satisfactorily been met by Mr. Vega's standards and we're finally free to go, leaving us just over two hours before we're due at the rehearsal dinner venue.
We drive home in silence, but it's a calm one. There's no tension between us, just the past few hours still swirling around in our heads. With every mile I put between us and the funeral, though, the easier it is to clear my mind of it.
I can hardly believe it… it's over. It's finally over.
When we get back to the house, we settle on a makeshift bed that we make up on the floor in front of the couch, with another blanket wrapped around us as we sit with our backs against the couch. We don't have a lot of time to relax, but we both need the reset. Just sitting in a comfortable silence is enough, more than enough.
For the first time ever, I don't feel the ghosts from my childhood in these rooms. All I can see is the present, and that present is the time left here with Tris.
It's only now, as we sit in unhurried silence, that I realize the week is almost over. In a few days, I'll be back to the place I do call home in Chandler, more than 1,700 miles away. It's not far from Tris' home in Phoenix, but since meeting her, or I suppose reuniting with her in the airport, we haven't gone more than half a day without seeing each other. What am I going to do when it's likely to be days without seeing her? What the hell did I even do in life before she came back into my life?
I'm lost in these thoughts for a good ten minutes before Tris breaks the silence and stops my panic attack before it can truly begin. "Do you remember that little room way up on the top floor that we would sneak up to?" She's staring off into space still, her eyes haunted, yet still bright with some semblance of joy. "The little window looked out at a little garden…"
The vision comes back so vividly, and I'm struck with the fact that she's remembering what I was a bit earlier. Tris was very small then, maybe four or five at the time, so I doubted that she'd remember that after all these years, but maybe I shouldn't be surprised. We crawled into the little space anytime we could manage it, escaping the world we knew. It was the closest thing to a happy place that we could have ever had. If there's anything worth remembering, it would be that.
"I was actually thinking about that earlier, during the service... Do you remember how we used to make up stories about that garden?"
Her face lights up with a smile at the memory. "That's right… and about the dog!" She sits up, turning just enough to face me. "I remember the first time we saw him and we were both so confused. I don't think we'd ever seen anything like it."
I remember how the Golden Retriever that would chase away critters from the yard, barking at anything that moved. "I remember. It made me wonder what all else there was out there. I hadn't ever really thought about that kind of thing before then."
She nods in solemn understanding before she settles against me, snuggling herself in comfortably. "It was horrible there, but we always found ways to be happy," she reminisces. "You and I… As bad as it was, what we had was stronger and better than anything we faced." We sit in that acknowledgment for a long time, letting it wash over us, and it honestly feels healing.
"You really were all I had," I tell her after a while because I need her to know that. "I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for you. Or, at least, the therapy would have worked, and I'd be just like Vega, if not worse, like Marcus."
"I doubt that," she says stubbornly. "You're too good of a person, Tobias."
I can't help shaking my head. "There is such a thing as being damaged beyond repair," I persist. "If they had their way, I'd have been put through enough to ensure it. Something about you saved me, though…"
I see her eyes flash with something intense before she turns her head to place a kiss on my chest, above where my heart is beating more rapidly than comfortable. The gesture, as small as it is, fills me with a warmth I have only been able to attribute to her. That old feeling of safety and protection that she used to bring crashes over me in waves.
Before I can think about it too much, before this feeling takes me over completely, I ask her, "Do you remember the song you used to sing to me when I tried to sleep? The lullaby?"
"Mhm," she hums, and just like that, it's like we're back in that little room, hiding away from the cruelty of the day. The weight of it all feels heavier than either of us can carry, but somehow, we find something close to peace, even if just for a little while. Some things never change.
She shifts so she's resting her back against the couch and grabs a pillow from behind her. She moves the blanket to cover me before patting the pillow. It's an offering that I can't refuse, especially as the gravity of this morning takes its toll. I adjust myself to lie down with my head on her lap as our hands find each other like they always used to, and her free hand drifts to my hair.
She's quiet for just a moment before she softly begins to sing the song she sang for me that day; the song that she learned to sing for me every day, should we find a moment alone in peace…
Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
Then you should always know
Wherever you may go, no matter where you are
I never will be far away
Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark and deep, inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me
Goodnight my angel, now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me
Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabies go on and on
They never die
That's how you and I will be
...
AN: Before I say anything, if you wanna feel all the feels I have felt with this chapter, go back and reread the Billy Joel lyrics (and even Castle on a Cloud) while imagining a devastated Natalie Prior trying to hold it together on a rare visit with her little girl, holding her and singing her this song in hopes of comforting her and giving her hope, while also communicating her shame and sorrow. [But don't take that rabbit hole too far, or you'll cry as much as I have!] When I first started this story, I took the time to write out some stuff in Natalie's POV from when Tris was still a baby, upon finding out what her husband agreed to, due to Marcus' threats. I'm glad I did because it led to the inspiration of this little ending scene. (If anyone would be interested in reading that POV, I would definitely consider publishing it on here for more context, just let me know!)
Now, I definitely want to take the time to give a HUGE thank you for the support and patience! Among many other life things, my partner and I are in the process of trying to get a house and a loooot of curve-balls have been thrown our way in the process of all this, but I'm hopeful that it'll work out in the end. It's just keeping me very busy and heckin stressed out. This week we actually went and toured some houses (in 111°+ F/44°+ C heat) but it was definitely the most fun we've had in this process at the same time. The less fun part is the financing, and now all the packing, which I'm also helping my mom pack her place to be out by the end of the month. It's a lot...
... buuuut I'm not as busy as Tobias and Tris are! (and oh are they gonna be busy in the upcoming chapters, in any [and maybe all!?] contexts I'm sure you're all imagining and hoping for!) There's some curve-balls of their own coming in the next chapter and I'm so excited to give it to you all. Given my upcoming schedule, it'll likely be two weeks or so before I get it finished, but if I get it polished sooner, I will post it then. I appreciate your patience, given the uncertainty of these times for so many. Thank you once again for all of your amazing messages and reviews, they make my day! And of course all the new faves and follows! I appreciate you all so much!
-Willow