TRIS POV

My throat burns as I am wrenched from my dream. Someone is screaming, and I mistake it for the people lost in the smoke, dying by their own hands. The high-pitched shriek becomes more and more deafening until I feel that it is a part of me.

It is.

"Tris. Tris!"

I emerge with a gasp. For a moment I'm choking in the dark until my face is smothered into a shoulder muscle. I take a deep breath from his shirt and let the natural male scent work its magic; it is better than breathing in average air.

The relief is immediate. I bask in it.

"You okay?" Tobias's voice rumbles through my bones.

"Yeah," I whisper.

My eyes crack open and adjust to the dark. Outside the window there are heavy clouds blocking the horizon where the sun should break through any moment. I try to push aside my nightmare and savor the time I have left to stay in bed before I have to get up.

"Tris?"

"Hmm."

"We have to get up soon. The announcements start in less than an hour."

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I shift away from him so that he can get up to shower. I pretend like his absence doesn't sting, like I have been doing for a few days now.

Maybe it makes me sound like a hypocrite since I am the one disturbed by dreams every night, but something is wrong with Tobias. The attack took place nearly a week ago, and during that time he hasn't remotely opened up to me. Even simple questions about what he needs from the store are answered cryptically and reluctantly. It could be his way of coping, but I can't see anything beneficial coming from bottling up his emotions.

And I can tell he isn't okay when he hides up in the control room and returns home late, crawling into bed beside me when I am almost asleep. I can tell that he has my same struggles hanging over his head when he ducks out of trivial conversations at dinner with our friends. But when I try to be there for him as he is for me, he unleashes his temper to keep me away.

Ever since I first met him when I chose Dauntless, I have been aware of his shifting moods, so unpredictable that he could go from seemingly friendly to an unmatched hostility in a moment. I am not afraid of Tobias, but I can tell that somewhere along the way of me downplaying his brash behavior, he is going to explode.

I wish that his childhood hadn't made him into a closed-off person. Though I love him for who he is, I can't help but think how much less stubborn he would be if his father hadn't forced him into a life of solitude. He needs help, plain and simple. Neither of us saw the attack, but he was present when it happened and then had to suffer through the suicide serum that he inhaled.

If I am drowning right now, I can't imagine what is going through his mind.

The shower cuts off, and I glance at the clock. More time passed than I had thought. In fact, I better get dressed now.

I roll out of bed and use the hair tie around my wrist to pull my hair up into a ponytail. Sifting through the dresser, I find some basic workout clothes that aren't much different from what I'm currently wearing. Just as I finish putting them on, Tobias emerges from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Almost," I say, brushing past him.

As I freshen up for the day, I fully realize how important this announcement is going to be. After a week of silence, Tori released the news that she would be informing us of the situation regarding the factionless this morning. This could easily be a declaration of war, or a rundown of her discussion with Evelyn, or something else. And I hate to hold my negative relationship with Tori against her, but I don't believe that she will make the right decision.

Taking one last unimpressed look in the mirror, I step out of the bathroom to find Tobias sitting on the bed. There is a gun in his hands, and he looks more calm than I've seen him all week with the weapon. It reminds me of the first time we played capture the flag and he stood there, staring up at the sky, with a paintball gun cradled in his hands.

"I took my gun back," he says, standing. "I hope you don't mind. This one is better for you anyway. It's smaller."

I guess we should have done that long ago. His gun, the one he gave me for Amity, is more heavy-duty and quite honestly not as comfortable to hold. It only makes sense that we switch back to our former gun arrangement. Though technically they are both his guns, anyway.

"That's fine," I dismiss, ducking my head as I try to pass him.

"Hey." He catches me by the arm so that I am forced to face him. With a calculating expression, he holds up the slightly smaller gun. "I think you should have this with you at all times."

It is an order rather than a suggestion, but I don't mind. Considering I am anxious to go out in public, being prepared can put my mind at ease. And besides, guns aren't as much of a trigger for me as they used to be. I no longer see Will when I touch one, nor do I freeze up. If it came down to it, I don't know if I could shoot someone, but that is a different story.

"Okay," I say softly. I wrap my fingers around the metal and test the weight before I tuck it in my waistband like he does.

He holds the door open for me as we walk out. "I like what you did to my gun, by the way," he comments.

In the knowing look he flashes me, I pick up on his referral to the number four that I carved into the gun handle. I press my lips together into a shy smile.

"I missed you," is my explanation.

His fingers slide in between mine as we walk down the dim path. I enjoy it for a few seconds, but the topic reminded me of something.

"You know, I was thinking," I begin in the silence. "With all of the guns that the factionless stole, the people in gun assembling are probably working overtime to catch up. And I have nothing to do, so I might as well get a job with them."

Tobias surprises me by shaking his head. "No. I think it's best if you still lay low for a while," he declares.

I purse my lips at the finality of his tone. He has a point, especially at a time like this when Tori could easily throw me out if she sees fit. Still, I hate that anything I bring up to him is wrong, that he constantly jumps from a neutral mood to a sour one.

I decide to hold my tongue for now.

The quiet is uncomfortable as we make our way to the Pit, but thankfully it is filled once we arrive. The packed crowd is unusually awake for this time of morning, talking loudly and shoving and some even joking around as if they don't know what is at stake. I follow Tobias through the sea of black since I can't see above people's heads to know where we are going.

Once Uriah, Zeke, and Shauna come into view, I suddenly feel stressed for a whole other reason. Tobias manages to get us through the mass with his authority alone, and I settle in next to Uriah.

"Hi," he greets before yawning.

"Hey," I talk above the rambunctious crowd. "Have you seen Christina?" I haven't seen her in days, and before that, only brief sightings. With my suspicions running wild, I am beginning to really fear for her.

"No. But this is a big crowd, and I'm sure she's here somewhere."

I nod along. "Right," I mumble to myself.

My eyes drift along through the gaps in the crowd for the impossible chance that I will spot her somewhere. Instead, I catch the sight of Jessica, who wards me off with a nasty glare.

Okay, then. I'll try not to worry about that murderous expression.

"Attention!" Tori bursts out from her position on one of the rocks. The Pit erupts into hushes that somehow settle the crowd enough that she can be heard. "I, along with the other leaders, have an announcement to make."

She glances at them briefly, almost like she is hesitant. "Yesterday morning, we were able to come to an agreement with the factionless leader, Evelyn Johnson."

An agreement? I frown distrustfully before looking up at Tobias to see what he thinks of this. His face remains unfazed and angled toward Tori.

At the disgruntled murmurs that echo through the Pit, she clarifies, "As you may not know, most of our weapons, aside from the ones you all own, were stolen during the attack. So retaliating wasn't a reasonable option at this time. However we were able to set conditions that I'm sure you will agree with.

"First off, we demanded that the factionless cease fire. They are not allowed to invade any of the factions from this point forward. Along with the guns, they are not permitted to set off the gas that they used during the attack. We are still not yet aware of what it is, but for now we don't have to worry about that.

"Secondly, we were made aware by our governmental workers here that our fallen leaders were keeping a close eye on the situation in Amity. Apparently, the factionless have been developing a plan to reroute the food to themselves and only themselves. I made it clear that that was not going to happen, and that our food supply must remain the same."

"Does anyone actually believe this?" I hiss to Tobias. "Who is going to enforce these rules? The Dauntless sure can't."

He presses his lips together, and I take it as a sign of agreement.

"The third condition is one that I'm sure you will all be enthusiastic about. Although we stabilized the situation in Erudite last week, we pulled our soldiers back to protect Dauntless, therefore giving up our position there. But with the factionless currently in charge there for now, I was able to negotiate a prisoner transfer with Evelyn Johnson. Jeanine Matthews will soon be in Dauntless custody—"

The people around me roar in triumph. Something inside of me wants to cheer too, but the rest of this speech is so angering that I can't focus on the rewarding aspect. Even our friends next to me can only find it in themselves to offer some half-hearted claps.

"Notice how she didn't mention anything about the factionless controlling Erudite?" Tobias points out with a scoff. "They can maintain their ground there for now, they just can't take over any other faction. What kind of negotiation is that?"

I shake my head in disgust as Tori finishes up her speaking.

"Lastly," she says, "the factionless have agreed to give up control of the trains to us, after I demanded it on the grounds that we are the ones that use them for travel."

More cheering ensues as the Dauntless temporarily forget that they are low on weapons and are bowing to the enemy. How, after everything that happened in the first war, can they be this naive? How can they not clearly see that their conditions can be blown off, that their leaders have been given some more of the leash for now just so that they can be reined in later?

I thought we learned our lesson the first time.

"My fellow leaders and I are proud to present you with this news. Evelyn Johnson is also pleased with the arrangement," Tori states. "We look forward to working closely with her in the future, as she was once our ally." Yes, the one who used us until we were expendable, and then had us surrounded with our own guns during the Erudite attack. "Thank you for your time, and let us try to move past this."

It is now that I realize that not all of the Dauntless were collectively satisfied. There are disappointed and agitated faces in the crowd, some even downright confused. Maybe this is their wake-up call; maybe they will take these matters into their own hands. Twelve of their fellow faction members and their three leaders were murdered last week, and the factionless currently have the power to make that happen again. Some of them are thinking about that now.

Zeke, Uriah, and Shauna seem unimpressed with the charade. And that is when I believe that we need more people to know what is actually happening. If we want to do something about this—revenge, or even simply protecting our faction—then we need numbers. Our friends may be more imbedded into Dauntless than Tobias and I, but they aren't stupid.

It's time.

"They need to know," I say to Tobias as the crowd starts trickling out of the Pit and on to their daily activities.

He sighs and looks at our friends. "You're right."

"Can you guys come with us?" I turn and ask. "We need to discuss something with you."

We tell them the truth.

All of it. From the suicide serum that emerged several months ago to the orchestrated plan for the factionless to essentially take over the city faction by faction. We show them the evidence that we stole to back up our claims. We prove to them that the entire city is in jeopardy in less than an hour.

Initially, they are all unresponsive on our living room couch, and I fear for the worst. That is, until they show signs of soaking it in similarly to Christina and Dez did when I told them the basics of the serum.

"So, why didn't you tell us all of this in the first place?" Zeke eventually asks. I sense a hint of hurt in his tone that his best friend viewed him so distrustfully.

But Tobias makes his reasoning clear. "I didn't know how much I could tell any of you," he remarks. "Uriah may be Divergent, but you are all faction loyalists. Not to say that Tris and I aren't. The point is..."

"You probably would've thought we were insane," I interject bluntly. "Now though, too much has happened for it all to be a hoax. And we need some more people on our side."

Not to mention that just last year, Shauna couldn't stand to be within the broad vicinity of me and my Divergent brain. How were we supposed to believe that sharing our information would be the right choice? Even now, when she has been convinced, she still seems to be on edge as she leans uncomfortably against the side of her wheelchair.

Zeke shrugs. "Well you have evidence. That's all I need to believe it." He rises and shoves Tobias in the shoulder playfully. "Man, the lack of loyalty is kind of insulting."

Even though he is joking, Tobias takes the insinuation seriously. "It wasn't like that. I may have kept this to myself for a few months, but I didn't know the extent of the issue until Tris came back. Don't take it personally."

Uriah makes a sound of agreement. "Fair enough," he says. "Now where do we go from here?"

"Well, first and foremost, the Dauntless need protection. The factionless have a weapon that they don't understand, and they're not going to stop using it any time soon," Tobias declares. It is so natural for him to take charge that I wonder why he isn't interested in leadership sometimes. "So before we can even think about rallying people to attack back, we need a way to fight off the serum so we won't be vulnerable."

Zeke paces over to the window, desiring some movement. Uriah taps his foot as he mulls the idea over.

Shauna asks, "Is there any way to counteract the serum?"

I glance over at Tobias and reply, "Peace serum works."

He shakes his head, turned off by the idea. "I don't think Amity even owns that much peace serum," he points out. "Besides, the Dauntless would be too stubborn to use anything of the Amity's, let alone when they're influenced by the suicide serum. We need a preventative measure rather than an antidote."

Suddenly, Uriah springs up from the couch. "I've got it!" he exclaims. "Gas masks. How else would the factionless not be affected?"

We all try to tear the idea to shreds in our minds to find a flaw. I don't know about everyone else, but I can't find one.

"Don't the Dauntless have some?" Zeke scratches at his head. "That wouldn't make sense if we didn't."

"We do, just not nearly enough to protect at least the soldiers, let alone the majority of the compound."

There is a lull as we contemplate it further with that information.

"They would be mass producing them for their own people. We could hijack their supply," I suggest, glancing around for dissents.

Tobias nods. "Maybe you're onto something for once, Uriah—"

"Hey!"

"—so for now I'll look into it. See if I can find any shipments or storages on the cameras."

And with that, the backbones of our plan are laid out. We agree to give it some time and discuss the potential solution later. For now though, they leave with the promise to keep their eyes peeled and their mouths zipped shut.

"I should let Christina in on this," I mutter. When I recall the fact that she wasn't here because of her strange disappearances from any social gathering, I make a hasty decision. "I'm going over there."

"What?" Tobias says, pinching the bridge of his nose. I don't know if he really hears me right now.

As I speak, I sit on the couch and pull my boots on. "I'm done with worrying about this on top of everything else. If I'm stressing over nothing, then I want to know. I want to know where she has been hiding these last couple weeks. And I'm going to confront her on it."

I'm already halfway out the door when he stops me with, "Tris."

I spin around to face him, angling my head up so I can meet his eyes. "No, Tobias," I huff. "I'm going, and you can't stop me."

He sighs heatedly at my obstinance and shuts the door behind us. "I didn't say you couldn't go," he clarifies. "But if you think there is a possibility that she is being abused, then I don't want you going alone."

I can't blame him for wanting to keep me safe, so I let him follow me. Neither of us offers conversation on the way to Christina's apartment, and unfortunately I suppose that is a good thing. Another argument is simmering, and right now I don't have the time or energy for it when I have to confront my best friend.

Before I knock on the door, I press my ear to it. To both my shock and my expectations, there is indistinct shouting muffled by the door.

"Something's happening in there," I say out loud. Then I knock.

The commotion stops. A moment later there is still no answer, and I frustratedly bang my fist against the door again. This time, the door unlocks and opens to reveal a visibly upset Christina, with ruined makeup underneath her eyes and a jittery body.

"Christina, what's going on?" I ask, trying to peek behind her. Bryce stands there with his arms folded, and he clearly isn't happy to see Tobias and I at their doorstep. I still have the urge to assume, but how can I? I'm sure that if she interrupted a fight between Tobias and I, we would be caught looking similarly.

She shakes her head and lets out somewhat of an absurd laugh. "Nothing, Tris, we were just having a discussion—"

"What do you want with her?" Bryce sneers, cutting in behind her. Christina slinks against the door so that the doorway widens.

I physically feel Tobias tighten up behind me at his tone toward me—or us, I'm not sure who he was talking to. But before he can stick up for me, I straighten and answer calmly, "We wanted to discuss a private matter."

Bryce snorts. "There's nothing you can say to her that can't be said around me," he says.

The attitude is uncharacteristic for the boy I noticed briefly during initiation. I always thought he was just as Christina once described him: shy. And one glance told me that he was a typical Erudite nerd and a bit unsuited for Dauntless lifestyle. However, that is definitely not the case. Now I am seeing the side of him that I think Christina sees most of the time.

I grit my teeth, unwilling to put up with his haughty bearing. "Really?" I ask almost politely. Then I take a chance because I trust my instincts. "Are you that insecure that you need to keep her on a leash?"

Bryce's expression shifts from murderous to a masked, toned-down one. "Listen, short stuff—"

"Watch it," Tobias snaps immediately. My arm flies out to block him from decking Bryce as I glance over at Christina to see if she is offended by my comment.

But her passive face is not the most important thing to catch my eye.

"Is that..." I squint to make sure I'm not reading into the situation wrong. Yet as much as my best friend wears makeup of all kinds, I know the difference between lipstick and blood.

"Christina, is that blood on your lip?"

And I expect that question to kind of end it all. When she looks at me with hollowed eyes, I know the answer. I know that she wants my help; I know that she wants to get away from Bryce. I can see it all in her blank, seemingly unrevealing facade. Maybe I even expect Bryce to lash out.

Not my boyfriend.

Tobias has never remotely gotten along with Christina, maybe only momentarily for my sake. Even on the first day I met him, he shut down her sarcastic comments with his cruel instructor persona, and he hasn't said much to her since. They certainly can't be called friends because the only thing they have in common is me.

So when he shoves past me and smashes his fist into Bryce's jaw, I am a bit confused.

I suppose it should make sense to me though that he would react the way he does, as an abuse survivor.

But all I can do is watch, astonished.

Eventually my senses return during the encounter that seems to happen in slow motion. And I realize that the awful, incoherent crying out is coming from Bryce, and that Tobias is practically beating him to death in the doorway, and that if I don't intervene then he actually will.

"Four, stop!" I yell.

If he hears me, there is no sign of it. His muscles tense as he delivers blow after powerful blow to Bryce's head. When he shifts aside, I catch a glimpse of wet blood shining where his mouth probably is. Sickened by the flash, I try again.

"Four!"

Nothing. A pathetic gurgle sounds, and as much as Bryce deserves it, my stomach clenches.

With no hope of snapping Tobias out of his rage, I decide to get involved physically. It isn't the brightest idea, but I'm sure he would stop if I could get his attention. I just have to make sure that I grab him at the right place at the right time to avoid a hit, which would surely be brutal.

It is obvious that he is using his right hand more often than his left, so I aim for the left side of him. I wait for a few agonizing seconds before I see my opportunity and seize it.

Sliding in between him and the doorframe, I grasp his wrist as tightly as I can and desperately shout, "Tobias, stop!"

He does.

As soon as he snaps out of the livid mindset, collapsing into a sitting position next to Bryce's unconscious body, the shame seeps into his eyes. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks to me for guidance, for comfort, I don't know. Everything about his attitude this week was an omen for what was coming, but I didn't know that the explosion would be this.

His dark blue eyes bear innocence even though he may not necessarily be, and just like that he is a boy again, whose world is surrounded by abuse. All I can do is stare back and share his deep breaths.

Then I realize that I have to handle this. With Christina frozen behind me, Tobias in a horrified trance, and Bryce without a mind, nobody is going to act until I fix it.

So I reach a hand down to Tobias, and he eyes it unbelievably before letting me help him up. I inwardly cringe when I feel blood slip over my fingers.

"Hey," I whisper. "Go cool down, all right? I have to help Christina."

I wish I could tell him that I'm not mad, that we can talk about it, but for now I am speechless. He swallows hard and ducks his head before stepping out of the doorway of the apartment. That is when I realize that a crowd has gathered to witness the demolishing of Bryce's face; this is Dauntless, after all. The onlookers watch Tobias in awe laced with fear, but he stumbles past them without noticing.

With a strong desire to go after him, I let out a sigh that releases some of the pressure from my chest and turn to Christina. She has been crying again, but the tears have dried, and all she can do is gape at the mess in front of her. Bryce may need medical attention, though right now she needs my help more.

"Can someone take him to the infirmary?" I ask the gathering pointedly.

Some of them hesitate, and a few others step forward to peel Bryce's limp body off the floor. We all watch as they drag him off to the infirmary, and the rest of the bystanders follow them.

And with the excitement over, Christina crumbles.

Relieved, violent sobs wrack her body as she collapses into me, in a strange, slumped manner. My Abnegation instincts kick in so I can hold her in an awkward hug that barely keeps either of us upright.

"You should've told me," I say, shaking my head as my lip wobbles. "You should've told me."

She clutches onto me so tightly that it reminds me of how close we're supposed to be. We have been through war together; we suffered through initiation twice together; we got through what I did to Will together; we even stuck together in the days afterwards of the war, when the city was chaos. She is the sister I never had, so why couldn't she trust me with this?

But that is an answer in and of itself. I know enough abuse survivors to know how much they close in on themselves and hide from the rest of the world in a pit of their own misery. It isn't a matter of trust rather than defense.

"I-is he really gone?" Christina squeaks out.

I nod even though she isn't looking up at me. "Yes, he is. You're okay now."

She sniffles into my shoulder and asks hopelessly, "What am I going to do?"

I help her straighten up, and then I set my hands on her shoulders. There are bruises and small cuts on her face that I hadn't noticed before up close. "Here's what's going to happen," I declare. "We're going to go into your apartment and clean your face up. Then you can put on all the makeup you want. And then, we're going to throw all of his stuff out into the hall with a little too much enthusiasm."

A genuine laugh escapes her as she wipes her eyes.

"Sound good?"

She nods along gratefully. "Yeah."

I give her a reassuring smile and lead her inside. "Maybe if you're lucky, you can even give me a makeover."

As always, thank you so much for the comments and the support!