Eric woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of his daughter babbling through the baby monitor. He smiled as he realized that today was finally the day he had been waiting for - his first real date with Tris and the official beginning of their relationship. He grabbed his phone off the charger on his nightstand and hauled his large frame out of the king-sized bed.
He glanced at his phone on the way to the nursery and was alarmed to see several missed calls and text messages that had arrived overnight. The most recent text was from Natalie, and it said that they were awake and having breakfast, so he and Ava should come over as soon as they were ready for the day. He hadn't been expecting to see the Priors until his evening date with Tris, so the summons worried him.
Ava was sitting up in the crib, her newest trick, and she laughed and waved her arms when she saw her daddy walk in. The motion upset her fragile balance, and she toppled over on the mattress. Eric chuckled at her antics as he lifted her out of the crib and carried her to the changing table, but his thoughts raced as he hurriedly changed and dressed his daughter.
As soon as Ava was dressed for the day, Eric carried her downstairs and strapped her in her highchair. As he prepared her morning bottle and cereal, he scrolled through the messages on his phone. The earliest call had come from Max at three o'clock in the morning. There was no voicemail, but a group text from Max to the other Dauntless trainers followed at three thirty.
M: Staff, there was an incident at the all-night grad party. Peter Hayes snuck alcohol to the event. He became belligerent and attacked another student. He has been arrested for assault and underage drinking. No one was seriously hurt. I will message again if there is more information.
The next missed call from Max came just minutes later, again with no voicemail. Then there was a text from Max to Eric only.
M: The student Peter assaulted was Tris. She is okay, and Andrew is coming to pick her up.
Eric swore under his breath as he frantically scrolled to the next message, this one from Andrew.
A: Max said he messaged you. Beatrice is okay and resting at home. Call in the morning.
A text from Tris had followed just a minute behind her father's message.
T: I'm sure you've heard from Max, and probably my parents or brother. Dad just brought me home from the hospital. I have a few stitches and bruises, but I'm fine, I promise. Uri and Will pulled Peter off me before he could do much more than talk shit. I'll call when I wake up in the morning, or you can just come over.
Hospital? Eric thought. Every message caused his anxiety to grow. He had a missed call from the Priors' home and one from Natalie's cell phone that had come in just minutes before he woke up, plus the last text from Natalie telling him to come over to the house anytime.
Finishing Ava's cereal and wiping her face, he offered his daughter the bottle with one hand and dialed Andrew with the other.
"Good morning, Eric," Andrew greeted. His voice sounded tired and serious, but calm.
"What happened?" Eric asked. "I woke up this morning with a pile of missed calls and text messages. Is Tris okay?"
"She is going to be fine," Andrew assured him. "That Hayes kid snuck a flask into the party and got drunk. He started making accusations about Tris and her top ranking award. Apparently she yelled some things back, and he attacked her. It took four other kids to break them apart, and the police were called."
"She said she was in the hospital," Eric said, his knee bouncing nervously as he waited for the rest of the story.
"A small gash on her forehead," Andrew said. "You know how head injuries bleed. The police and Max took her in for a few stitches, and she has some bruising as well. No concussion or other injuries. She's asleep right now."
Eric growled, resisting the urge to swear because he was with his daughter. Ava laughed and growled around the bottle she was drinking. She growled again, still mimicking her father, then started giggling. That broke the tension, and Eric smiled at the baby. She was pretty much just playing with the bottle, making milk bubbles and dribbling the last of its contents down her double chin.
Eric withdrew the bottle from her mouth, and told Andrew that he and Ava would be over to the house in a little while.
.
Tris slept until after ten o'clock in the morning for the first time she could remember. When she woke up, she smiled at the sound of Ava making noises from downstairs. As she stretched, the soreness in her ribs and face reminded her of what had transpired the night before.
Gingerly, Tris worked her way out of the warm covers and walked to the mirror hanging on her wall. Her face was a little puffy, especially around the cut on her forehead. Five stitches, the ER doctor had said. There was also a bruise on her left cheekbone, and her bottom lip was split and puffy. As she worked to put her hair up in a messy bun, Tris' ribs screamed in pain. She lifted her sleep tank and examined the bruises on her torso. The doctors had assured her that nothing was broken, but it still hurt.
Tris dressed in a fitted camisole and a sweatshirt. She didn't want anyone to know how badly she was hurt, and the cami would keep her bruised ribs covered if her sweatshirt shifted. She threw on a pair of comfortable yoga pants and took one last look in the mirror. There was nothing she could do about the fact that her face was beat up. This is going to make for some memorable grad party photos tomorrow, she thought wryly.
Suddenly she remembered the date she was supposed to go on with Eric, and tears sprang to her eyes. She dropped into the rocking chair she hadn't removed from her room after Ava moved out. Grabbing a tissue from the nearby box, Tris dabbed gently at the tears streaming down her bruised face.
"Beatrice?" Natalie asked gently as she walked into her daughter's room. "Are you alright?"
Tris nodded and sniffled. "Just assessing the damage," she said, trying to put on a brave front.
"Oh, Sweetheart," Natalie said as she crossed the room and knelt in front of her daughter. She smoothed the hair back from Tris' forehead, and looked at her stitched and bandaged cut. "I don't think it will scar, and the bruises will fade in a few days."
"I was supposed to go out with Eric tonight," Tris said as her brave front faltered under her mother's gentle care. "And what about my grad party tomorrow? I look like hamburger meat, and I'm stiff and sore."
"You and Eric can adjust your plans," Natalie said soothingly. "Maybe tonight Ava can stay here, and the two of you can get takeout and watch a movie or something. Then you can go out when you're feeling better. That young man will be around when you're healed, trust me. He's been like a caged animal down there all morning. He goes back and forth between wanting to kill Peter with his bare hands and wanting to come up here so he can see for himself that you're really okay. The only thing keeping him from going crazy is Ava. Apparently he growled this morning, and now she won't stop doing it. Of course, Caleb is egging her on. She sounds like a little puppy."
Tris smiled, then sighed. "I suppose I can't hide up here all day. I need some ice, and to see this growling baby trick."
"I'll get an ice pack ready," Natalie said. "Come down when you're ready."
A few minutes later, Tris made her way down the stairs and followed the sound of Ava's noises to the family room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the lightweight champion of the world!" Caleb announced when she walked in, then reached to poke at his sister's side.
"No!" Tris yelled in panic as she pulled away from the fingers heading toward her bruised ribs.
Eric leapt up from the floor, and Ava started to cry at the sudden movements and Tris' alarmed exclamation. Tris wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection.
"Grab Ava," Eric ordered Caleb in his instructor voice.
Caleb looked worriedly at his sister as he moved to obey Eric's command. Eric approached Tris cautiously, and she could see his eyes examining every inch of her face as he did. His eyes landed on her arms around her middle.
"I'm okay," she insisted. "He startled me. I'm fine."
"And your ribs?" Eric asked. "Can I see them?"
Tris shook her head.
"Did the doctor look at them?" Eric asked.
"Yes," Tris said defensively. "Nothing is broken."
"Just bruised?" Eric guessed. Tris made no response.
"How bad?" Eric asked. Tris only shrugged.
Natalie walked in with an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel. "What is going on in here?" she asked as she observed the tense standoff.
"Tris neglected to tell us that she has bruised ribs," Caleb informed their mother.
"Which side?" Eric asked, watching Tris' reaction intently. She hesitated just a second, then pointed to her left side.
"So both?" Eric asked, making Tris huff.
"Come with me," Natalie ordered her daughter. "You boys stay here with Ava." She led her daughter to the kitchen and grabbed a second ice pack from the freezer.
"Show me," she demanded, and Tris hesitated. "Show me," Natalie repeated.
"I have another tattoo you don't know about," Tris said.
"And I have three of them," Natalie replied testily. "Now show me some ribs."
Carefully Tris lifted the right side of her sweatshirt and camisole, and Natalie swore at the sight of her daughter's side, which was streaked with purple.
Tris giggled, and Natalie gave her a dirty look. "Beatrice Grace," she said, her voice shaking with anger and pain. "I do not see what is so funny."
"I've never heard you swear before," Tris said.
"When someone beats the shit out of my child, I'm allowed to swear," Natalie said. "Now other side."
Tris sighed, knowing her left side was even worse. As she cautiously lifted that side of her shirt, Natalie gasped, and her eyes filled with tears.
"It looks worse than it is, Mama," Tris said, trying to soothe her mother.
"Have you seen this?" Natalie asked, pointing at the purple blotches. "Are you sure nothing is broken? Did they do an x-ray?"
Tris assured her mother that the doctor had done an x-ray and that her ribs were bruised but unbroken. Natalie left to get an Ace bandage so she could wrap Tris' torso and keep ice packs in place. As Tris waited for her mom to come back, Andrew walked into the kitchen.
"It's a good thing your mother doesn't own a gun," he said lightheartedly. "And I understand you have another tattoo we haven't seen."
"She wants to shoot me for getting another tattoo?" Tris asked.
"No, she wants to shoot Peter," Andrew said. "Apparently your ribs are, and I quote, 'so black you can't even see the second tattoo she didn't tell us about.'"
"I got it for Ava," Tris said. "It wasn't something to show off. It's just for me. It says 'Where there is life there is hope.' Tori painted the same thing on the nursery wall, in the same font and everything."
"I'd like to see that once you're healed up," Andrew said gently.
When Natalie returned, Tris could see the fire in her eyes as she instructed Andrew to stand behind Tris and help her hold up her arms and her sweatshirt while Natalie wrapped her ribs over the camisole. She tucked three ice packs into the bandage wrap, then righted Tris' sweatshirt and handed her a fourth ice pack for her face.
"We only have four of those," Natalie told Andrew as she began to bustle around the kitchen. "That was enough when the kids had their wisdom teeth out. But it would be best if we had four more so they can be changed out every few hours. We can send Caleb to the drugstore."
Natalie presented Tris with some reheated scrambled eggs, fruit salad, and a bottle of water. "After you've eaten I want you to take two acetaminophen, not ibuprofen, so pay attention. I have some cream for bruising, and when you're not so tender we can rub some of that on your ribs. Avoid heavy lifting, including Ava, and rest as much as you can.
"Now, eat your breakfast. I have to go deal with the boys." With that, Natalie turned and marched out of the kitchen. Tris' mouth was hanging open, and Andrew had a smirk on his face.
"That's the firecracker I fell in love with," Andrew said.
"I've never seen her like that," Tris replied, laughing. "She swore earlier!"
Andrew grinned at his daughter. "What would you do if someone hurt Ava?" he asked.
Tris' jaw clenched. "I'm 'deadly accurate with throwing knives,' remember?"
Andrew laughed and kissed his daughter on the temple. "I'd better go check on her. Your mother and Eric might team up, and there would be no stopping them."
Tris finished her breakfast and dug through the cabinet for some acetaminophen. Unfortunately it was on the second shelf of the upper cabinets, and Tris' ribs weren't letting her reach that far. She huffed in frustration and wondered if there was some she could reach in the bathroom or Natalie's purse.
"Something bothering you, Duchess?" came Eric's voice from the doorway.
"Everything is bothering me," Tris confessed testily. "But the most urgent issue is that I can't reach the Tylenol."
Eric walked up behind her and reached for the pills, setting the bottle on the counter in front of her.
"What else can I do for you?" he asked gently, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"I don't like being helpless," Tris said. "We're supposed to go on a date tonight, and I look like I was hit with a baseball bat. My grad party is tomorrow, and if anyone tries to hug me I might scream. A million people are going to show up and expect to take pictures with me, busted face and all. And... Mom… said... I can't... hold... Ava!"
As Tris sobbed out the last sentence, she turned and buried her face in Eric's chest. He held her close, careful not to hurt her bruised body, and stroked her back as he let her cry.
"I've wanted to hold you like this for a long time," Eric admitted. "Not the crying part, but just to hold you in my arms and know that I'm allowed to be with you and that you want to be with me. I can wait another week or two to take you out on the town. As long as you'll be with me and be my girlfriend, I'm the happiest guy in the world."
Tris' tears stopped, but she stayed wrapped in Eric's embrace. "I cancelled the babysitter," he said. "Tori was going to watch Ava tonight. But I think it would be better if we stayed in so you can relax. Your mom offered to watch Ava, or we can take her home with us - I mean back to my house. Or we can hang out here with your family if you prefer. Like I said, as long as we're together, I'm happy."
"Being with you makes me happy, too," Tris said. "Is it okay if we go to your house? It's quieter there, and we can just hang out and relax, maybe get to know each other better."
"Should we leave Ava here or take her with us?" Eric asked.
"She's going to nap soon, and she goes to bed early," Tris said. "We'll have plenty of time to ourselves, and some time with her, too. Even if I can't hold her."
Eric found Natalie and Andrew and explained to them that he was taking Tris to his home to relax. Natalie gave him specific instructions on caring for the bruises, and again offered to keep Ava. Eric declined, and promised to have Tris home in time for an early bedtime.
He gathered Ava's things, then loaded her into his truck. Tris slipped into a pair of flip-flops and followed him outside. Eric opened the passenger door, and Tris hesitated.
She put one foot up on the running board and tried to climb in. Eric put his hands on Tris' hips as she faltered.
"I've got you, Duchess," he said gently, supporting her weight as she got in the cab of the tall truck.
Tris slowly worked the seatbelt across her stiff body as Eric climbed in and started the truck. As he backed down the Priors' driveway and bumped onto the street, Tris bit back a groan.
Eric drove through the neighborhood, and every pothole and seam in the road caused the seatbelt to press into Tris' ribs. By the time they were halfway to Eric's, Tris was in pain. After a stoplight changed and Eric was forced to brake firmly, Tris yelped.
"Tris?" Eric asked, glancing at her in alarm.
"The seatbelt," she said through gritted teeth.
"Should I stop?" Eric asked.
"We're almost there," Tris said, "just be gentle."
Tris loosened her seatbelt, and held it so it wasn't pressing on her ribs. "That's better," she said, and Eric relaxed as he gingerly drove the truck onto his driveway.
"Don't move," he said, hurrying out of the truck as soon as it was in park.
Tris gratefully removed her seatbelt as Eric came around and opened her door. He reached into the truck and slid Tris into his strong arms.
"Well hello there, Warrior," Tris said, kissing Eric on the cheek.
"You doing okay, Duchess?"
"I am now," Tris said flirtatiously.
"Mmm," Eric nuzzled into Tris' neck. "As much as I would love to stand in the driveway and hold my girlfriend all afternoon, there's a sweet little baby who also needs to be carried inside."
"And I do have two working legs," Tris added.
Eric lowered her gently to the ground, and Tris walked into the house.
"Let's go upstairs," Eric said as he prepared a bottle for Ava. "We can feed her, and I'll change her and lay her down for a nap. Then we can lay on my big bed and watch a movie up there while you rest."
Once Ava was down for her nap, Eric walked back into his bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and observed the sight in front of him. There was Tris, on his bed. She was eighteen, no longer a student, and she wanted to be there with him.
"Something wrong, Warrior?" Tris asked.
"Not a thing in the world," Eric replied as he gingerly laid down on his side facing Tris, careful not to jar her bruised body.
He reached over and stroked her uninjured cheek with the back of his hand. "You are so beautiful," he said.
"I don't feel so beautiful," Tris said. "And I could do without the bruises, but I'm glad to be here with you."
For a few minutes they just laid and looked into each other's eyes, sharing small smiles that made Tris blush.
"I love you, Tris," Eric confessed. "Can I kiss you?"
Tris nodded, and Eric admired the sparkle in her eyes as he leaned toward her. He stroked her cheek again as he tipped his face to hers and gently pressed their lips together as her eyes fluttered closed.
Tris sighed and opened her eyes, her grey-blues locked with Eric's grey. "I love you, Warrior," she said.
Eric kissed Tris again, then encouraged her to nap for a while. She laid her head on the pillow beside his and drifted off to sleep with their hands clasped together.