A/N: Thank you, my long-suffering readers.
Part II
1.
Winter sets in with a severe certainty that leaves no room for anyone to question it. Over a foot of snow falls after the first two weeks, a swift and stark reminder that time will not wait for anyone to catch their footing. The days are unforgiving, and for the most part, Dauntless is quiet. People spend the days huddled in their apartments where they can stay warm. It's one of the few times they aren't calling each other cowards.
(Tris was glad for the slow reprieve, a time to get Eric acclimated without too many faces constantly staring back at him, and time to not be the star of the show any longer. He'd overestimated how many people would be bold enough to confront him. They gossipped, but he hadn't been all-out attacked, which they were both glad for and could confide in one another.)
For the most part, the city is back to relative normalcy—if not for a serious investment in checks and balances that are eagerly enforced and protected. Tris finds that those who would oppose it have died. She's finally settled into her role nicely now that her stress is lessened, taking it on with pride and without doubt in herself. She's done a lot to contribute to the perseverance of the small nation, even with her attention focused on Dauntless. She had no other choice, as she's become painfully aware that Four would have done all that he could to completely alienate her from her role as co leader if she hadn't been voted into a seat at the proverbial table.
She exhales deeply, hand falling to the swollen belly she now sports, heavy with pregnancy in her 6th month. Winter has waned, and despite her initial shock at becoming a mother at just shy of twenty, it didn't come as too much of a surprise to her— like it didn't anyone else. Of course she and Eric would be met with such a fate. They spent a few weeks hidden away before it became obvious that she was doing so.
For his part, he was surprised, supportive in his way, and terrified by the idea. Those in the faction that were hurt by his presence did not outwardly choose to confront him as would be the Dauntless way—provoking a leader, Tris, would spell confrontations and certain expulsions—as would also be customary. But he knew what they were thinking. He'd welcomed the chance to hide away from people. The cowardice of it be damned. He returned to work once the snowfall had stopped and temperatures began to rise again, though it didn't seem Spring would offer much.
Tris can feel the separation between them, his anxiety at becoming a father notwithstanding, his apprehension to be home had not waned. He was unfulfilled in his security role in the pit and leadership like his tattoo suggested was out of the question. The ink was meant to last a lifetime, as was the job. If you could no longer perform, it was time to jump. And as the coward he now was, he'd consider such a thing now. Thoughts of Tris keep him alive, for the most part, and his still indelible pride. It's been a hard few months for them both.
Eric patrolled the pit for what seemed like forever before he finally broke his personal pact with himself to never ask Tris for a favor. He was endlessly bored in that job. She moved him to patrol in the common areas. The security office was fine, with guys who didn't hate him; they were almost friendly, willing to leave him to his devices. There wasn't much need for him at all, but he wasn't stifled by all the knowing glances he got in Dauntless. Every so often, a young Dauntless would gather with their other boneheaded Dauntless, bored with the regular monotony of life, and looking to make trouble. For all those months Eric spent behind bars and then behind apartment doors, he hasn't lost his affinity to make violence on those who'd provoked it.
Tris couldn't bemoan such a request from her boyfriend. He was trying to make it work when she knew that all he wanted was to return to a job of authority—the feeling of importance. They both know why he could never return to it. And it burns both of them to their cores. She wishes she could give that to him—complete obsolvement, but she can't. And she knows that despite knowing and loving him on a personal level, she can't make it all go away just to assuage the guilt of being his tether to the faction.
Tris sits with her thoughts instead of writing up the previous weekend's debrief she and Tori will go over at lunch, for nearly an hour before she absolutely has to.
They continue their tentative work relationship, the older woman being the bridge between Tris and Four, without much complaint. And Four kept her in the loop about what was happening in the factionless sectors, the only leader of their triad that Evelyn would speak to. It hadn't taken long for Evelyn to completely forgo council meetings. It left an uneasy feeling in Tris but she couldn't force the woman to participate.
Abnegation keep up their charity work and factionless are welcome to visit Erudite clinics to get their vaccinations and medical care when they need to. Things are…normal.
It's not normal at all, and Tris can feel it.
A knock on her door, Tris meets Tori's eyes.
"Ready?" The woman asks, her dark hair pulled into a slick ponytail, a thick black tunic shielding her from the still frigid temperatures. Winter felt like it would go on forever at this rate.
Tris nods wordlessly, tucking her now jaw length hair behind her ears, two studs gracing her lobes. The earrings are another marking of her assimilation into Dauntless, one she's surprised she had not immediately taken to. No, she'd started with tattoos.
With her belly now showing, even in her thick clothes to stave off the cold, she knows she'll be confined to her apartment at some point. Getting her to the medical bay will prove challenging. Tris doesn't condescend to her about it, as they walk the stone hallways. Despite their disagreements, Tori knows her to be formidable; if nothing else, she can handle the consequences of her own choices.
"It's quiet today." Tori says.
"I don't mind it," Tris replies with a short laugh.
It felt as if nothing properly stopped before the next problem began when they were first settling back into life. Ultimately aptitude tests had been put off the last year, with everyone still weary of serums and the Erudite who ultimately oversee them. The transparency the faction will now forever be expected to meet seems impossible some days. But with spring fast approaching again, such tests will need to be resumed for everyone's sake. The intelligent faction is skating thin ice.
The cafeteria is dull, but not suspiciously so. The season has killed whatever joy they collectively all feel, this long after it seems to have started. Temperatures dropped dramatically in October. It was nearing March.
Tris settles on food and Tori does the same before they begin to discuss important matters. It doesn't really take long. They address food and other resource reserves, patrol, and crime reports. With normalcy it seems crime is not far behind it.
There had been two murders recently that had set her nerves on end. A young woman pushed off the bridge over the frozen chasm had been nearly enough to send Tris into a crying fit. A month later another was pushed. They'd been unidentifiable, but both blond.
"No progress." Tori reports. She heaves a sign, knowing the conversation saddens the younger woman.
"And you made sure announcements properly relayed the amount of points in reward for information would be?" Tris asks.
"Yes," Tori sniffles from the cold. "No one says anything."
She pauses, recalling, "And the camera footage was completely unusable?"
"Too spotty from ice damage." Tori shakes her head. She doesn't understand how that can still be a problem for them and yet. She's slightly irritated that Tris would think she hadn't covered all these bases.
"We should have them replaced."
"It would take Erudite work. And we have nothing to offer them." Tori sighs.
Tris snorts. "What about the fact that it's our security keeping their headquarters monitored…" Tori only makes a face, shrugging her shoulders. "It doesn't make sense. Was all the footage the same from that day?"
"You're more than welcome to watch the videos yourself."
Tris eyes her, knowing what the smirk on her face implies. Four spends most of his time in the control room, where she would have to go to see about the footage and ask the appropriate questions to those who had been on shift.
"Shut up," Tris says, chugging from the canteen of water she keeps.
"You're going to have to speak to one another at some point…" Tori doesn't feign ignorance of their conversation.
"He needs more time," Tris simply states. Four is not over their breakup and he's even less impressed that she's carrying the Murderer's child. She finds his conviction to be grating.
"Just rip the bandaid off," Tori smirks.
"You do it then—you rip the bandaid off." Tris rolls her eyes as Tori snorts.
"You're such a mature individual," Tori says, sarcasm dripping from her tone so thickly, it takes all Tris has to not actually laugh.
"You either want to solve this or you don't," Tori adds, shrugging. "I could add it to my never ending list of things to do—like final preparations for the testing season…"
"No, fuck it—I'll do it," Tris says, scratching her cheek noncommittally as she goes back to her lunch. "What's he going to do? Tell me I can't see it? Fat chance, right?"
"Right." Tori didn't feel much like breaking her spirit today, so she quickly decides to change the subject. "How's the baby? Smushing your organs yet?"
Tris keeps an impassive look on her face, schooling the dread she feels at her predicament. "No, not yet."
Truthfully, she knows this is a bad idea, but she couldn't bring herself to terminate the pregnancy once she knew. She could have, as Dauntless supported a woman's right to choose. Growing up a Dauntless dependent wasn't the place for weakling children, according to many people.. No one was cruel to them, the experience and terrain of the fortress were dangerous enough. Eric was not in the proper headspace to feel joy for fatherhood, and she'd known that. But he was smiling and baring it like anything else. They both feel the strain.
"Shit," Eric mutters, seeing a gaggle of factionless descending into the common areas. If it were up to him, he'd leave them be. They use the toilets and maybe take a bird bath. But it doesn't go over with those who made it through their initiations. The ugly reality is that they aren't treated as if they belong anywhere.
He feels like he should be among them, really. The thought is sobering and makes him laugh bitterly.
But he gets them to scatter, albeit gingerly. He doesn't have to do much prodding. He's imposing, tall and muscled with his damned neck tattoo. He feels disgusting afterwards, and walks back to his post.
The wristwatch he wears, one with a secure line to Tris, beeps with a call. The upturn of the corner of his lips would almost pass for a smile.
"Hey," He answers, still surveying the area. He glances at the holographic image of Tris staring down at him. "Where are you going?"
"Home," She replies with a sigh. "I don't have much else to do, other than return Jack's call. And I'll do that tomorrow."
Eric snorts, nodding. "Think you want to stay in for dinner?"
She smiles at his awareness. He always knows what she's thinking. She nods, "Maybe we watch a movie from the archives and you could possibly carry me to bed when I fall asleep."
He laughs, "Is that your big plan?" she grins at him, earning a chuckle, "Yeah, that's fine. Shift's almost over—I'll be headed back in about an hour…"
"Okay," Tris nods with finality, "Bye."
"Bye." He says, just before ending the call. Something akin to guilt flares in his chest. He knows they're drifting apart. They havent been fine the entire season, between his unsteadiness and now their incoming parenthood. He desperately wants to figure it out, but she seems keen on ignoring it, and he doesn't want to push and make the emotional separation even worse. She's all he has at the moment. Those who are nice to him are doing it for their own sakes, not because they care.
He knows he needs to fix it, and logically he knows how, but application has always been harder.
"Are you freezing your balls off like I am or is it just me?" Zack asks. For all intents and purposes, the man is Eric's patrol partner. He stands slightly shy of 6 feet tall, which Eric make's fun of him for all the time. He has a crush on Chris, which Eric doesn't understand at all. He's good looking and charming, with blue eyes that many girls in the faction fall over themselves to look into.
"Why aren't you at your post?" Eric quirks a brow, fixing him with his stare.
"Uh," Zack laughs, "Why aren't you?"
"I asked you first." Eric replies, both men staring at each other before laughing. "I don't even know what time it is…"
"5:30." Zack answers, "We're good to leave. Levi and Smitty are here already. That's from command, apparently."
"Tris didn't mention it," Eric says, more to himself than anything.
"Don't pregnant people forget shit like that all the time?"
"I dont know," Eric laughs, the duo head back to the security building to collect their things before they'll book it for a train stop. Of course shifts don't perfectly align with the train schedule.
"How aren't you shitting your pants over that?"
"That she didn't tell me the time?" Eric asks, not at all confused. But he didn't really want to discuss Tris with him.
"No," Zack rolls his eyes, but he's smart enough to know Eric is deflecting. "I heard Four has been giving her shit."
Eric rolls his eyes, "and how did you hear that?"
"Buddy of mine works the same shift as Four, heard him bitching about her to Tori in the hallway, and told me cause he knows I work with you." Zack shrugs a shoulder, both men pushing through the double doors of the small station.
"I would rather pull my eyes out of my head than spend my last ten minutes talking to you about this, so I'm going to just head to my locker and get the hell out of here."
"So, it's true…" Zack continues. "Four is pissed."
"I don't pretend to know how his mind works, but sure." Eric gestures a shrug, with his hands. They get to their lockers, with lights too bright in the room and the walls too dark. Eric removes his utility belt and his service weapon. He'd gone through an irritating amount of interviewing with Tori—Tris sat in—before he was cleared to get one back.
"Just watch your back, alls I'm saying."
Eric pauses, looking back at him. "What?"
Zack exhales, "Do you live under a rock?" He shakes his head when Eric smirks at him, "Shut up. No. I mean, haven't you heard how pissed he is?"
"If he hasn't attacked me by now… I'm not sure he's that angry." Eric says, not thinking anything of it. "He's been through worse than me and Tris being together."
"We all have our breaking point…"
"What are you trying to say?" Eric asks, finally growing irritated.
"Nothing more than that…" the younger man says, "I get feelings when shit is about to go down."
"You're so full of shit." Eric laughs, though in the back of his mind, he knows that the prospect Four has been biding his time is not that far-fetched, especially because he knows the situation never had any closure. They all just seemed to move on. He's unsettled by the very idea.