Happy reading everyone! Happy Pre-Thanksgiving! I wanted to do something special and write a short story for each holiday season this year. I hope you all enjoy it, please leave comments and let me know.

Possible triggers: There will be adult language and graphic detail of Tobias' abuse in the first chapter.

This story will be given in both Tris and Tobias P.O.V Please be on the lookout for any P.O.V. changes within the chapters.

A blessing in disguise

About:

Every day, I will be releasing a chapter up until Thanksgiving. The final chapter will be released on Thanksgiving Day. Enjoy, everyone!

Chapter 1 - Time to Run

Tobias P.O.V.

The wounds on my back sting and burn as Beatrice wipes another towel full of my blood away. I try to remain calm, not only for my sake, but for hers. I hate this... I hate that my father does this to me. I hate that my mother left me with him. I hate that my only friend in this world, my best friend, has to see me this way. She doesn't deserve this, to see the aftermath of my father's rage. Even though she shares the same year of birth that I do, she acts more like a woman in her twenties than the measly sixteen years we both are.

I was born and raised in San Francisco. The house I lived in was in a pleasant and small community. My mother loved the community, the way neighbors helped neighbors and how friendly they always were. It was the perfect place to raise a growing family, or so it seemed. We were fortunate to live next door to the Priors. Natalie and Andrew had two children, Caleb, the oldest, and Beatrice. The Priors were the perfect example of what a family should be... they never had to fake appearances for the sake of covering up the horror that happened behind closed doors when no one was watching.

Andrew and Natalie were your typical parents. They never yelled, never lifted their hands to their children in anger. Their main rules were to work as hard as you can, and always talk it out. Andrew always made sure no matter how busy he was, he was always home in time for dinner with his kids. Natalie, just like my mom, was a stay at home mom. Only she stayed home on her own free will. My mother, on the other hand, stayed home because she didn't want to risk people seeing the bruises my father would leave on her. Not to mention he needed to know where she was every minute of the day.

Caleb is a year older than Beatrice and me. Although he doesn't really bother me, his attitude makes it clear that he thinks he is better than everyone else just because he is in honors classes. Beatrice, on the other hand, she is the opposite of Caleb. She is loving, selfless, kind, and smart. From the start, Beatrice and I were inseparable. We shared everything with each other: our first words, our first steps, and even our first day of school. She is my best friend. Our mothers used to tease us, how one day we would grow up and get married. Beatrice would pout, she hated being teased. I, on the other hand, didn't mind the idea. Beatrice is my best friend, the only one who has ever really understood me. The thought of never having to let her go made me happier than ever.

Holidays were always a wonderful time growing up. My mother always said, "There is just something about this time of the year, it's so magical. First, you have your goblins, witches and monsters. Second, you have this special day that reminds you of all the blessings you have in your life. Then, to top it off, you have the most wonderful and magical time of all... Christmas. A time to share love and receive it. What a magical three months out of the year." My father, on the other hand, always complained that this time of the year was a waste of time and money. That we shouldn't be wasting resources on such things. My mother often hid our afternoon activities for the holiday from him. I guess she wanted me to have a normal childhood, or as normal as it could be, that is.

When I was nine, my mother committed suicide. She couldn't take the abuse my father Marcus would subject her to. When she found out she was pregnant again, she fell into a deep depression. She felt helpless. She worked so hard, to shield me from Marcus. To take all the hits, the hateful words and the evil that would come from him. But she couldn't bear the thought of having two children to shield from Marcus.

One day when Beatrice and I were walking home, I knew something was wrong when we saw the police cars and ambulances at my house. Natalie stood on the sidewalk crying and cupping her mouth with her hand. I will never forget the look on her face when she saw Beatrice and I were walking down the street. She ran halfway to us, not only embracing Beatrice, but taking me into her tight embrace as well. She held me, rocking me back and forth for a long time.

I stayed with the Priors for a couple of weeks after that. My father's grief was too much for him to bare, and he found he couldn't care for me at the same time. Until one day, Marcus showed up demanding to have me home. The moment the door closed to our house, Marcus wasted no time back handing me. That was the first time he beat me with his belt. I quickly learned fighting back and crying only made things worse for myself. Marcus won't stop until he tired himself out; crying, fighting, and yelling only adds fuel to his flame.

I was ten when Marcus started to throw me into the hall closet. It was the same closet he would throw my mother in. Left in the dark, beaten and bleeding, for God knows how long... I feared when weekends or school holidays would come. It would give Marcus more time to leave me in there, versus on a school night, when he would have no choice but to let me out in time to clean up and go to school.

The summer when I was ten was the worst. Marcus told the Priors that he had sent me away to a military camp for the summer. That left him all the time in the world and no one would come looking for me. The only thing was he underestimated my connection with Beatrice. She knew I wouldn't just disappear without telling her one way or another. She started to suspect that something was going on by the marks and bruises on my face and arms. One day, she wandered in the house through my bedroom window. She must have heard my cries and followed them. She found me dehydrated, starving, and reeking of my own bodily fluids. I made her promise not to tell anyone. I feared that Marcus would find out and hurt her. Since that day, we fell into a life saving routine.

Beatrice would sneak into the house every other day if she didn't hear or see me. She would bring me water, a first aid kit and a sandwich. Beatrice always made the best sandwiches... they would be stuffed with the previous night's leftovers, all pressed together in a mouth watering sandwich. Beatrice explained that it was the easiest and least messy way to bring me food. But it also turned out to be an extremely delicious way to bring me food. She would hand me a bottle of water to slowly sip on while she cleaned my back, and afterwards she would sit with me while I ate the delicious, overstuffed sandwich. She talked to me about all the things going on in the outside world. For that short time she was with me, it felt almost comforting. But like all good things, my time with Beatrice would soon end. She would be gone, and I would be left in the darkness.

All I have is time, time to think, time to come to this sad and painful realization. I know if I stay here, Marcus will kill me. One day he will hit me too hard, or too many times and I might not wake up. Maybe that's okay, maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Marcus has always told me, just like he told my mother, that I am worthless, unlovable, and a total waste of space. But somehow Beatrice has never seen me that way. She never sees me in any other way than with adoration and love. I don't know if that love is the same for the love that I feel and have for her. Somewhere, somehow over the years, the love I had for her grew into something more, something stronger. She was no longer the short, small blonde little girl I grew up with. She had turned into a beautiful, blonde haired, grayish-blue eyed young woman that is full of love and life. She may be petite and short, but she has always fit perfectly in my embrace. Like we were made perfectly for each other to hold on to.

That's why I know what I have to do. Beatrice is such a wonderful and caring person. I hate how all my home life problems have tainted her innocence. Somehow I have stolen what should have been her childhood over the past few years. If, God forbid, I don't wake up tomorrow... I know Beatrice would never forgive herself. She would blame herself for my death, in one way or another, and that's not how I want her life to end up. She should be happy and surrounded by people who can make her feel that way. I can only bring her misery, blood and pain. Although I will miss her, and it will be hard for her to not see me everyday, I know that she will let me go if it means putting my safety above her own wants and needs.

"Beatrice, I have to leave," I gently say to her. I can feel her hands softly spread the antibiotic ointment over my open wounds. Her touch has always been so gentle, so feather like.

"I know," she says. I slowly rise to a sitting position from laying on the floor on my stomach. I look into her beautiful, captivating eyes, the eyes that I could get lost in for the rest of my life. "This time took a lot out of you," she admits. I nod my head, agreeing with her. I feel weaker than normal; I lost more blood than I usually do.

"I don't... want to leave you," I confess.

"But you have to," she agrees. She sighs, defeated by the situation. "What am I going to do without you?" she says as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. I cradle her face in my hands, wiping away her runaway tears with my thumb.

"I will always be with you," I lean in slowly, not wanting to frighten her or aggravate my wounds anymore than they already are. "I... I love you, Beatrice." There, I finally said it, but I had to tell her. I won't get another chance.

"I love you too," she says, as more tears escape her now red rimmed eyes. I know she means it, but I know she also can't love me the way I love her. "When... when will you leave?"

"Tonight. When Marcus is asleep."

I pack up my duffel bag with a few changes of clothes, underwear, a toothbrush, a couple bottles of toothpaste and deodorant, along with some photos of my mom and all the photos I have of Beatrice and myself growing up. My hands are shaking, fear and anxiety are overwhelming me. I try to hurry knowing that at any minute, that Marcus could wake and catch me. I rush over to my nightstand getting my wallet and the cash that I have hidden between my mattresses. I have saved a few hundred... not much, but it will have to do. I sling the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder and climb out of my window, being careful with every move I make. I don't want to risk making too much noise, Marcus might wake up. I also need to be mindful of my wounds, not wanting them to reopen on me.

"Tobias," I hear when I my feet reach the ground. I instantly know it's Beatrice, I'm both relieved and saddened by this. I can't leave if she watches me, it's taking everything I have in me to do this right now. To know I won't have her tomorrow and the day after that. To never see her smile again, to hear her beautiful laugh, and to never feel her in my arms again... where she truly belongs. These thoughts are killing me. It won't take much to make my decision waver.

"Beatrice, what are you doing here?" I whisper.

"I came to say goodbye, and to give you this," she says. She hands me a yellow envelope. I take it, slowly opening it up to see what is inside. I am amazed at what I find... cash.

"Beatrice." I begin, but she interrupts me.

"Just take it. Please. If you ever need anything.. just... call, okay?" she cries out. I take her in my arms, not wanting to let her go. But knowing time is slipping by, I have to get going before Marcus notices I'm gone.

"Thank you. For everything." I lean in one last time, resting our foreheads together. I breathe in her scent deeply, savoring my last few seconds with her. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too, Tobias," she says, then she leans in further giving me a tender and love filled kiss. My first kiss, our first kiss, our last kiss.

A/N

Brainstormed by FDFobsessed

Beta-approved by DivergentPanda46
Happy reading, everyone!

Trini