Chapter 23
TOBIAS
"Denied."
Derek looks smug as he leaves a long sheet of paper on the table beside my bed. I presume it's the plea to lift the separation order between me and Tris that Harrison had drafted up for me. I can't read what it says, but I don't miss the large red stamp on the front of it that reads just that, 'DENIED'.
I've been expecting Derek, but can't say I've been looking forward to it. There are few things I don't miss about Dauntless. He is one of those things.
He looks down at me, and I see that same old superiority complex of his shining through. Only he would feel empowered by another man being incapacitated and lying helpless in the infirmary. Still, I scoff at the sight of him. Derek hasn't changed one bit; his hair is too shiny, there's way too much pride in his eyes, and he's dressed as though he stopped in on the way to his own wedding.
I quickly glance at the paper, but I don't take it, lest he think I'm in agreement. "Did you even bother to read it? Or did you just stamp it and bring it over here?"
"You should know better, Four," he answers me cockily, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Your plea to lift the separation order cannot be approved, especially given that you and Tris are no longer married."
I smirk at him and I count my lucky stars that Tris never took that death certificate to Amity.
"On the contrary, I believe we are."
"Come on, Four," he scoffs. "You know marriages are immediately voided with the death of a spouse. I don't need to tell you that. And you, though very much alive," he eyes me from head to toe, "were declared legally dead, which legally voided your marriage in our records."
"Except that Tris and I weren't married in Dauntless," I inform him with a rude smile. "We were married in Amity, and she never took in the death certificate. So as far as their original records are concerned, she and I are still married." With a condescending tone straight out of his playbook, I say, "That's why she still signs my name, Derek."
I watch as his face slowly plummets. He can't even hide his disappointment. "Well in that case, I guess I'm just here to collect an official statement from you." He lifts his chin a little and I see when he swallows. He uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands inside the pockets of his very dark designer pants. "But I'll be generous and tell you that's the best way to lose this case. Once you pass in your statement and reconcile with Tris, you can't alter it; you can't add or take away from it."
"Yes, I know what the word 'alter' means, Derek, but thank you," I say sarcastically. "And if you really want to be generous, you'll keep Chad away from my wife."
"So you remember who Chad is now? Your memory just conveniently comes back the second you set foot inside Dauntless?" he pouts a little. "I won't lie. I was sort of hoping the whole memory loss story Tris gave me was true."
I imagine him interrogating her alone in a dark cell at the very bottom of the compound and I cringe. My tone suddenly becomes darker. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Derek."
"Actually, you do!" he says with glee, and he grins.
"Aaaaahh," I nod slowly. "You're right. I keep forgetting. I see you got that job you always wanted. Head of Security!" I taunt him with sarcasm as bright as his shoes. "How's that working out for you?"
"Surprisingly well… as of late," he answers anyway.
"Oh, I'm absolutely sure you're enjoying this." Derek was vying for that position the second the bullet touched Max's skull, and he was distraught to find out it had already been offered to me. He promised me I'd fuck it up and he'd be right there waiting to claim what was rightfully his. I suppose he believes this is the fulfillment of his deranged prophecy.
"We don't need to be enemies, Four," he quickly says to me. "As you know, with the position I hold, I have a lot of influence in this matter and I can help get you out of this."
I search his face for a moment, looking for the slightest hint that he's mocking me, but I don't find any. I'd laugh if it weren't so painful. Why on Earth would he be willing to help me? "There's a catch of course. There's always a catch with you."
"You need to walk away from Tris, Four," he's bold enough to state, as if he has some sort of unspoken claim on her. "Don't try to bring her down with you."
"Oh?" My breath catches in my throat and I almost choke. This time I do laugh. "And here I was thinking you had a moment of clarity and wanted to do what was best for Dauntless. But no, this is about you trying to get your hands on the one thing you never could seem to." With the strangest grin on my face, I shake my head at him. I don't know why. I've always known he was pathetic.
He's been after Tris from the first day he laid eyes on her, and I don't blame him. She's a spectacular woman. Even though it meant being charged with treason, she kidnapped me for heaven's sake and locked me in a bunker as if she could force the memories back inside my head. I smile at the thought of it, of how brave and loyal she's always been.
"As if you know where my hands have been," Derek interrupts my thoughts and my grin slowly fades as I imagine the worst. I scowl as I shove the grotesque image of his hands on my wife from my mind. Seeing my reaction, he continues, "I understand now why you could never keep your lips off hers. They're softer than a cloud."
My jaw clenches and my hands ball into tight fists. My blood suddenly runs hot and my chest feels tighter than usual. I realize I don't know what Tris has been doing over the years, or with who, and though I'm well aware of the fact I'm in no position to hold it against her, I silently pray that Derek is only fucking with me. But I get the feeling he's not.
I vaguely remember the conversation Tris and Christina had the night they kidnapped me. In fact it was more of an argument. Although Tris was refusing, Christina had far too easily insisted she let Derek help her, as if it weren't the strangest idea. That, along with the fact that Tris always became noticeably uncomfortable at the mention of Derek's name, suggests there was more happening between them than Tris has let on. She might not have wanted to tell me, for obvious reasons. But whatever was happening between them, in the end, she chose me. I try to let that comfort me.
"Tris is a lot smarter than your usuals, Derek," I say calmly. "I'm sure she sees right through you."
"And for some reason she's blinded by you." His face twists in anger and it makes me feel just a little bit better. "The very memory of you was toxic to her. But maybe this is what it'll take to open her eyes."
"You don't need to worry about my wife's eyes. They're as wide open as they are beautiful," I say levelly. "And with that said, I also need you to stay away from my son," I raise my voice now. "You could have left him in Abnegation with his grandmother. He doesn't need to be around all this."
"Your son?" Derek is daft enough to ask, and I'd punch him in that big mouth of his if I weren't handcuffed to this damn bed.
"What the fuck are you implying?" I growl at him.
"Nothing," he smirks after having gotten exactly the reaction he was hoping for. I shake my head, a little disappointed I took the bait. Andy's mine and I know it, he knows it, anybody with eyes and a thinking brain knows it; my son looks so much like me, it's frightening.
Derek is a pitiful human being. He's always been pitiful. He'll say anything to try and get the upper hand in any given situation. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he'd just invented his alleged moments with Tris. After all, she had never wanted anything to do with him before, and from what I can tell, he's still the same insufferable fool now that he was then.
"Good," I say with a very slow nod. "I'd hate for you to say or do anything that would further make you look like a jackass."
Derek rolls his eyes. "I just think he should be with his mother," he casually lies. He's touching Andy just to show us he can. He wants me to know that at any given moment, he can take my son away from me, even from Tris.
I keep my threats inside my head for now. Like it or not, it's not in my best interest for him to abhor me any more than he naturally does.
"His mother is in a prison cell," I remind him. "You put her there."
"Not for long," Derek utters under his breath. I imagine he'll find some loophole to have her charges dropped. I won't stop him from doing so if it means Tris will be pardoned. But I dread to think of what he'll demand from her in return. He reaches out to retrieve the paper from the table, and as he crumples it inside his palm he flippantly says, "Anyway, what do you have to say for yourself, Four?"
He should be recording this. It's telling that he isn't, but I decide to use it to my advantage; it's just him and me. Putting my disgust for him aside and going out on a limb, I get right to the point, as I'm sure he's already heard the major details of my disappearance. "Evelyn is going to attack Dauntless. Let me help you or she will level the place."
He immediately raises his eyebrows at me. "Are you seriously threatening us?"
"I'm trying to help you," I answer him. "I need you to put aside the bullshit for five minutes and listen to what I'm telling you, Derek. We don't have much time."
"And how convenient that you're the only one who knows how to save the day." He gives me an incredulous look and I immediately know this won't end well. Even Zeke had suggested the only way Derek might play along is if he gets to play the hero, but we hardly have time for Derek's complexes right now.
"Don't be an idiot, Derek."
"Oh, I'm not the idiot here," he quickly responds. "I understand Zeke, but I can't believe you got Tris and Harrison buying this story. You really expect me to believe you were kidnapped, drugged and then brainwashed by your own mother? A mother who also apparently faked her own death? Looks like the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree."
"You clearly don't know the first thing about Evelyn and what she's capable of," I warn him, and he really does look like he doesn't know. Derek never did have a poker face, and unfortunately, I believe it's safe to say Chad is working alone, or at least not with Derek.
"Four, I came here for a confession." Looking annoyed, Derek tosses the piece of paper in the trash. He then crosses his arms in front of him again. "Don't waste my time."
I look him in the eye. "I'm giving you something better. I'm giving you the information you need to save this faction, since I'm sure you've already heard most of the other details from Tris."
Haughtily staring back at me, he shakes his head. "I have, and I don't think we need your…help," he shrugs. "Do you really think the factionless stand a chance against us?"
"They're far more prepared than you think they are, Derek." It was always one of his weakest points, his chronic ability to underestimate people. It's why Harrison originally never wanted him for this job. Derek can hardly see anything above his own head or around his own ego.
"Are they? Cause last I knew, they were threatening to kill Tris' team if we didn't shut down the surveillance cameras around the city, which means they can't do a damn thing while we're watching. And now they've just disappeared with nothing to say for themselves."
"I'm pretty certain there's a plan B," I assure him. I was the one who was pushing to have the cameras deactivated because it meant we'd lose fewer men. Evelyn couldn't care less how many of her men died during her attempt to take over.
"See, why don't I believe that?" He taps his foot.
"Well, you should," I urge him. "Because a lot of lives depend on what you do next."
Derek freezes for a moment and his face appears hard. I recognize that look. He feels threatened, and I can hear it in his voice when he says, "We'll see whose life depends on what. You keep this up and there'll be a second tombstone with your name on it pretty damn soon."
Strangely, I feel the urge to smile. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"What I'd like is for you to be exposed as the traitor you are. And you will be. I will bury you under all your crimes, Four," he growls. "And then Tris will bury you… again."
I hate her name in his mouth, so much so that I bear the pain and sit up a little when I say, "And even then, she'll still be mine, Derek." I shake my head at him. "In no version of this story do you end up with Tris."
Derek doesn't answer me. He only turns around and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Though not in my best interest, I meant to piss him off, if only just to prove a point. The only thing he wants more than me dead, is my wife.
I don't plan to give him either of those things.
TRIS
"Take me back to the day you found out your husband was supposedly dead."
I stare at the older Erudite woman who sits across from me holding a pen and notepad, wondering since when has a psych evaluation been a part of the interrogation process of Dauntless prisoners. It's only been ten minutes and I'm already tired of her stupid questions about my personal life. I have a feeling Derek's behind this. But to what end, I'm not sure.
"Why would I want to go back there?" I'm defensive in my answer. Even now, even while knowing Tobias is alive, thinking about that day is so gutturally painful it cripples me.
"I was told you visited the crash site shortly after. That must have been quite a graphic view."
"It was," I answer tersely.
"Did you have nightmares? Did you dream of the crash, or of what you thought were your husband's last moments?"
I swallow, and then I stare at the wall for a moment as though it's not the only thing I've stared at for the past few days.
"From time to time. But they stopped." I'm careful when I respond, considering she's writing down almost everything I say. I did have nightmares at first. I'd dream Tobias was laughing and talking with Will in the train, and then they'd both just burst into flames. I dreamt of him trying to escape the blast only to become engulfed in it.
"Did you have trouble sleeping?" She fixes her glasses and awkwardly crosses her legs in front of her. There's barely any room in her royal blue pencil skirt.
"Of course I did," I scoff. "You would too if someone told you your husband was blown up in a train crash."
"How about suicidal thoughts? Did you ever think about harming yourself? Or your son?"
"I would never hurt my son," I almost yell at her, entirely offended by her question. "And no, I did not have suicidal thoughts after my husband's death." I never thought to harm myself, but before I realized I was pregnant, I was barely finding reasons to breathe.
"Well can you describe what emotions you felt?"
"What the fuck do you think I felt?" I almost scream at her, and she jumps in her chair before scribbling a few sentences on her notepad. I want to kick it out of her hand. "How about you tell me why this is even necessary."
She sighs slowly. "The fact that you are so unwilling to even speak about this is quite telling, Mrs. Eaton."
"It's irrelevant," I growl as I lean toward her, having no more tolerance for this. "It's pointless. I'm sorry, but they dragged you all the way from Erudite to waste your time. Something unspeakable happened, and I grieved. End of story."
"Is it?"
"Yes!"
She sets down her pen and looks right into my eyes. Through her glasses I can see her eyes are a peculiar shade of brown, almost the same colour as her hair. "I read in your medical files that you suffered premature labour shortly after having been taken to the infirmary several times for anxiety attacks."
My eyes open wider than they ever have and I gasp. "My medical documents should be private!"
"Mr. Coleman assured me everything I needed would be at my disposal; considering you are under investigation, your privacy is not of concern at the moment," she says in that unmistakeable emotionless Erudite tone.
I scoff. "Oh, wow. You know, I knew Derek was behind this." I nod a few times. "What is he trying to achieve here?"
"We only want a bit of clarity before judgement is made, Mrs. Eaton."
"Clarity about what? I already told Derek the truth about what happened. How about you just tell me what's the point of all this, and then maybe we can have an actual conversation."
"To be frank, Mrs. Eaton, a psychological evaluation is necessary on your part because you have demonstrated erratic behaviour since your husband's appearance- the same kind of behaviour you reportedly demonstrated after his alleged death. I believe you are having a relapse-"
"A relapse of what?!" I almost lose it and I angrily cut her off. I'd stand and storm right out of here if I weren't handcuffed to the chair, or confined to this damn cell.
"I believe you were suffering from what we call a Complicated Bereavement. However, I also see signs suggestive of PTSD."
With my mouth open, I wait for her to retract her absurd diagnosis. She does not.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Unfortunately, no," she answers nonchalantly. "I don't believe you ever recovered from your husband's death, and seeing him alive while you were still mentally unstable unhinged you further, causing you to lose your ability to reason."
I raise an eyebrow. "Mentally unstable?" I repeat the ridiculous words to her.
The woman sighs for what I think is the fourth time in two minutes. "It's possible your son was the only thing holding your mind together," she says softly. "And at the sight of your husband, you were triggered and went off-balance again, which is what led you to betray your faction so easily."
"Wait. That's his end game?! This is how he plans to get me out of a treason charge?!" I bellow, finally understanding what's happening here. Derek will paint a picture of me being unfit for trial, and no one would think to question the presumed legitimate diagnosis of a professional. "Is he paying you for this? I'm curious. Just how much is a bullshit diagnosis going for these days?"
"This is not a game, Ma'am," she insists. "Grief is a complex yet well understood process, and as difficult a course as it is, most people tend to come out the other side. I don't believe you ever did, and the repercussions of that are reflected in your behaviour."
"I heard you the first two times," I almost laugh, and then I glower at her. "It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard regardless of how you phrase it."
"Is it?" she asks again.
I'm quick to nod, although deep down I know some of what she's saying is true. I was a wreck after Tobias died; I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. When it became too much, I paid one of the fence guards to bring me back more than a healthy dose of peace serum from Amity. I never told anyone, and I only took it once, because I found out I was pregnant shortly after and didn't know who to ask how safe it was for my baby. So I bore the pain until Andy was born; that day was the first day I'd smiled in months. Living became easier then. I had reason, I had purpose. And as for Tobias, I would choose him over Dauntless any day. Which is why, although she's spot on about certain things, in her own twisted way, I could never admit that, not without making myself useless to Tobias. After all, she's not trying to help me. She's trying to help Derek.
"Well, as a professional, Mrs. Eaton, I am of the opinion that your most recent decisions were not made of a sound mind, and as such, you should not be punished for them but rather given the help you need. And I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I also have to declare you unfit to testify in your husband's trial."
"No. No," I plead, quickly shaking my head back and forth. "I'm not crazy," I say, sounding shell-shocked.
She looks at me almost caringly. "No one said you were crazy, Mrs. Eaton. What you are experiencing is easily explained by the trauma of losing your husband… and then finding him five years later. I can't help but believe you'd say anything to save him; your testimony would be unquestionably biased."
"I'm not traumatized!" I almost cry, feeling hopeless all of a sudden. It's one thing to not have to stand trial. Not being able to speak for Tobias is another thing entirely. "I don't deny having been in pain, I don't deny that my world fell apart after that train crash, or that everything changed again when I found my husband alive. But I knew exactly what I was doing, and I did what anyone would have done for the person they love!"
With that, the woman slowly stands to her feet and says, "Thank you for your time. I have all that I need."
"Wait," I implore her, and at the same time, the cell door opens and Derek lets himself in. My body becomes so hot I could swear my blood is boiling. "This was all your idea, wasn't it?!"
Derek ignores me as though my question isn't literally resounding in his ears. He looks at the woman and smiles kindly. "Thank you, Dr. Hemmings. I will call you for your full report." He has a few folded papers in his hands. They are all blue and white, and I see the image of a smiling woman on the front of one of them.
Dr. Hemmings nods politely before exiting the cell, and before the bars even close behind her, I yell, "You are out of your mind, Derek! Are there any lines you won't cross?!"
"Wow," he raises an eyebrow. "I was expecting, 'Thank you, Derek.'"
"Fuck you!" I scream out.
He rolls his eyes with obvious irritation. "This is what it takes to free you, Tris. Just go with it. You'll be under house arrest until after Four's trial, but it's better than being in this cell. I've already started the paperwork. This time tomorrow, you'll be able to go home to your son." He approaches me and I'm so angry I want to rip this chair from under me and fling it at him.
"This isn't about freeing me," I scowl with fumes vaporizing off every word. "You didn't stop there. You made sure I couldn't help Four's case in any way! Have them diagnose me with whatever you want, but there is no reason I shouldn't be allowed to testify!"
"I need you distanced from this, Tris," Derek says lowly. "The further, the better. It's the only way I can protect you." He looks at me as though he's astonished at my reaction, as though I'm the most ungrateful brute he's ever laid eyes on.
I stare back at him and I'm almost lost for words. "Protect me? Is that what you think you're doing?" I shake my head in awe of his twisted perception of reality. Sometimes I truly wonder if Derek really believes the things he says. Dr. Hemmings might actually be of more help to him than me. "I suggest you dig a little deeper, Derek," I sound surprisingly calm, yet I'm boiling underneath the surface. "That's where your true motives lie."
"Don't question my integrity, Tris," he says warningly. I almost choke.
"Your integrity?" I laugh at the very idea of him having such a thing. "Says the man who has repeatedly tried to manipulate me by unnecessarily touching or even mentioning my son. Says the man who just arranged to have me declared legally unfit to testify, and then expects me to be happy about it!"
"I expect you to appreciate the freedom you're being given," Derek looks down at me with piercing eyes. "Technically, you should be confined to your apartment, but I'll look the other way so long as you stay inside the compound."
"And I'm supposed to thank you?" I scoff. "If this is your way of trying to help me, Derek… Don't. There are far more effective ways of helping. I mean, you say you want to keep this under wraps yet you bring in an Erudite psychologist to evaluate me?!" I shout at him as he goes to remove something from his right pocket. "I hope you got one for Evelyn too cause she's a real piece of work!"
"I made a necessary exception," he replies. "We've worked with Dr. Hemmings before. She's trustworthy and her word is esteemed here."
"Lucky me," I say with palpable sarcasm. "Now if only you'd make another far more reasonable exception, and speak to Johanna, or better yet, have Jack Kang do the trial, then I wouldn't be under any kind of arrest at all." When I think about all the options he has to resolve this, it makes it even clearer- he has no loyalty to the truth, only to himself and what he believes to be true.
Derek stoops down and almost yanks my right foot from under me as he clips the ankle monitor around it. "That's not up for debate, Tris. Do you know how bad this looks for Dauntless? One of our own betraying us?" He then stands and uncuffs my hands from the chair. I instantly push myself to my feet.
"He didn't betray us!"
"Even if that were true," he says with disbelief, "if the other factions caught wind that a Dauntless trained leader orchestrated an attack against his own faction, they'd begin to question our competence in protecting this city."
"Our competence, or your competence?" I push him backward, testing him.
He catches his step, and then he snarls at me. "This isn't about me, Tris."
"Isn't it? It's certainly not about Dauntless." I push him again. "This is personal, Derek! You're blinded by your own self-interests, and you're going to fuck us all over! You're so hell-bent on Four being guilty that you can't even see the bigger picture!"
"There is no bigger picture, Tris," he crossly stresses every word. "And one day you'll realize that."
"And what if you're wrong?" I ask him softly.
Blatantly disregarding me, he hands me the papers and says, "Just read the brochures, Tris. Go to a few meetings and then quit when you've completed the hours."
I slap them out of his hand and they dance in the air before resting on the floor.
Derek crosses his arms and looks at the brochures on the ground. "I just got your charges dropped, Tris. The least you can do is be grateful."
My eyes square in on his. "I've got a better idea. How about you just don't demonize my husband. How about you actually listen to what he has to say?"
He nods. "I have listened, and I have no reason to believe Four is an ally." Derek's tone is dark. "And he's not taking you down with him, whether you want him to or not. I won't allow it."
I know he'd like me to believe his constant need to try and save me is rooted in some sort of affection, but when I stare into his eyes all I see is a thirst for vengeance instead of concern. "Well, you're wrong," I warn him. "He's telling you the truth, Derek. And you should be concerning yourself with the factionless before it's too late."
"If they do attack us, we'll be ready for them," he says too confidently. "They have nothing but a bunch of stolen artillery and a foiled plan to take down our security system."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "For your sake, I hope you're right. Because if you're not ready, then there will be absolutely no doubts about your competence in protecting this city."
His face abruptly falls. "Be careful, Tris," he cautions me. "People will be watching you. Try not to say the first thing that comes to your head. There's nothing I can do for you if you sabotage yourself."
"But could I ever really do that?" I tease him, wondering just how far he'd be willing to go to spare me an execution.
Frustrated, he shakes his head at me. "I don't think you understand how serious this is. It's not a one man jury, Tris."
"Isn't it?" I ask coolly. "Isn't it your job to select who's on the jury? Aren't they all on your payroll in one way or another? Doesn't your vote trump theirs? Haven't you already arrived at your own verdict? Don't you always get your own way?"
Derek looks at me with a blank face, the kind of face someone puts on when they've been figured out and they're trying too hard to hide it. Something about him standing face to face with what he is makes me feel empowered.
Taking a step toward him, evenly I say, "You're allowed to be an asshole, Derek. You're even allowed to be a psychopath. But don't feign integrity," I slowly shake my head. "Don't pretend like you're trying to save me from myself. Don't pretend you had Four rushed into surgery for any other reason other than the fact that you wanted yours to be the last face he sees, you wanted him to know you've won. If you're gonna be a narcissist, be a man about it." Then, brushing against the side of him, I make my way to the cell door and I swing it wide open for him. "Four and I will be acquitted with or without your help. Now would you please get out of my cell?"
But he's frozen in place, and for the first time in Dauntless faction history, Derek Coleman is speechless. I can only hope he's stunned by his own demons.
"I said we're done here, Derek," I growl defiantly at him when he refuses to move, and only then does he quietly walk out.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And to Bamberlee who did extra editing this week after some last minute changes :) We can't wait to hear your thoughts and always enjoy reading the reviews. So much so that sometimes they serve as inspirations and there are actually small tweaks made here and there. A special shoutout to cjgwilliams who contributed to some of this chapter's dialogue after making spot on observations about Derek ;)
Aaaaaaaand I know we're all patiently waiting for that FourTris reunion. But hold on, I promise it's coming :D
