Tori and Tris - Chapter Nine - Fear; implicit and explicit

I haven't seen Tris since that conversation and my heart ached for her, both because I miss her and because I am deeply concerned for her. I haven't been sleeping well and I have to force myself to eat. I know that our connection is now public knowledge. Again, I couldn't care less, not about what anyone thought about what we might have been doing up here every night, or anything else. Except as far as anything that may implicate Tris. If Eric thought it was fair game to stack the deck - then I have no problem evening the odds.

If I am reliant on others to inform me, then I am forced to make myself available for some such communication. I kept up appearances around the compound; I cashed in some credits by stocking up on personal supplies. There isn't anything I need but others benefit from my participation in the economy, including the black market. I went to town spending credits on combat boots and a durable warm coat - these items are transferable in and outside of Dauntless. I bought clothes; underwear, tank tops, long and short sleeved tops and training gear, I made myself conspicuous.

I allowed several people to profit generously by placing a number of very large black market orders. So much of this stock is highly lucrative and easily transferable. I wasn't so much buying makeup, tea and coffee, healing balms and lotions, medication, let's be honest - drugs and alcohol, I was purchasing goodwill. I hung around after work, I drank at the bar and ate in the mess but failed to learn anything of value in relation to Tris.

This sudden flurry of public activity could not have gone unnoticed by all and sundry - especially Eric. No one cares that I am a lesbian. No one. Of that I am absolutely certain. I am confident that when Tris realises her Abnegation is showing, she won't care either. But I am not going to let Eric intimidate me, even by proxy. This is not over by a long shot and that fucked up little prick doesn't even realise that he is already choking on the bit of me he has tried to bite off. And I will make sure he can never, ever spit me out. Oh yes, I have got my Dauntless on now, look the fuck out. I snigger to myself when I consider what Tris would make of my foul mouth.

Tris. I darent make any direct move on Eric until I know I can protect Tris. It was three or four nights later that I was woken in the night by the friendly knock. I couldn't be sure I had actually been to sleep but I was vertical and mostly dressed before the second urgent pattern could be completed. I pulled open the door - it was Four. He pulled from the wall a barely conscious Tris, who was quite literally soaked in blood. I stood aside, mute and shocked, Four lifted Tris easily and laid her on the bed. I mechanically moved across the room, feeling like I was watching this scene from outside my body.

"What the fuck?" I whispered viciously to Four, we surveyed the damage - it is extensive. Tris' face was deeply bruised, her nose was clearly broken, her mouth was cut and bleeding. Her clothes were ripped and torn, her fingernails were broken and bleeding she was sweating, trembling and her breathing was shallow and ragged. "Four?" I demand an answer, he takes my arm and leads me over to the window, out of ear shot. Without taking his eyes from her, he is not quite sure where to start, "I came across a half a dozen hooded guys trying to get her over the chasm." My heart stops and my hand clamps over my mouth.

"I know," He nods at me seriously. And then I remember Georgie and a new wave of devastation hits me. Four wraps his arms around me but I push him away. He understands me, I just can't deal with kindness in moments like these - I would much rather someone tried to strangle me, it should be obvious why. You can't process your grief if you are fighting for your next breath. "It's been really bad. I was able to get them off of her, but only just. I got the hoods off of two so I know who they are, a couple ran away, and we will know who the others are in a day or two because they will have broken fingers and smashed faces." He smiles at me, grimly. "Oh my God, Four. How did she?" I'm lost for words, "Six of them, how did she?" I can say it. Not go over the edge, is what I'm thinking.

Again, Four knows, "Apparently she just sort of koala beared one of them and they couldn't get her off of him," We look at each other, both of our eyebrows nearly hitting our hairline. "I told you, she was a fighter," he shrugged. And again, I think of Georgie, I know Four didn't mean anything. But the thing is this; first, Georgie being thought of as weak hits me hard because I know he was Dauntless as hell, and second, it's not Dauntless to kill people, particularly the vulnerable. We are the protectors after all. Four watches me, and knows where my mind has gone, "Hey, I'm sorry," he says, and I know it.

"I have to go," Four says regretfully. I nod and stand up straight, if Four says he has to go I know he has something to attend to, I don't need to know what. "Do you need anything else from me? Are you hurt?" I ask, he knows I have access to brews, potions, lotions and lets just say some very strong stuff. He shakes his head, "I will survive," and that reminds us both of Tris, we look over to her. When he reaches the door, he looks at me hard and says "Lock this - we can't afford to lose anymore heroes." His words hit me hard and I nod, swallowing a large lump, "I will wait to hear from you." He nods back, glances again at Tris and slips out the door silently. I close the door, lock it and apply a homemade lock contraption that I have never had the need to use before now.

I set the kettle to boil and return to Tris, I can't be sure she is conscious, but she is breathing. I take off her bloody shoes and socks, I open her coat easily because all of the buttons have been ripped off in the struggle. It reveals a torn and blood stained long sleeved top. I am shocked, if there is this much blood on her outer clothes - what sort of damage has been afflicted on her person. Fuck it, I am just going to cut away all her clothes, there is nothing worth salvaging that won't cause Tris unnecessary pain to remove. I cut away the pants, leaving on her knickers, for her modesty, I cut away the long sleeve top, the short sleeve top and something else she had on under that - "Christ," I whisper to myself, she is dressed like she's at the Southpole. I leave only her bra, and drag the rest out from under her body.

I cant believe what I'm looking at. Six guys on one small, still skinny, initiate. I wonder how many it took to get Georgie over. I drape a sheet over her, I prepare some tea and pour some boiling water in a bowl, adding some ingredients to disinfect her wounds, to aid the healing process and to treat her pain. Beginning with her face, I start washing away the trails of fresh and dried blood, I talk softly to her, unsure whether she can hear me or not. I mentally log the wounds, she needs several sets of stitches and her nose needs putting right, then I notice a rather large bald patch where her hair used to be at the side of her head. Six mother fuckers…

I feel like the world as we knew it has imploded tonight. And in truth it has. I know it. Four knows it. And when word gets out, which will be by breakfast tomorrow - our alliance will know it too. We will not stand by while our brothers and sisters are murdered. It is the deepest betrayal of our Dauntless spirit.

Tris stirs as I staunch her bleeding and tend to her injuries. "Ssshhh Tris, you're safe now, you're safe," There is no part of her body that I can confidently pat or rub to impart comfort, without hurting her. "Tori?" She is unable to open her eyes, they are now swollen shut and the bruising has already taken effect, each eye closely resembles a shiny 8 ball. "Yes, Tris, it's me, you're safe now." The tears begin to force their way out of her eyes and her breathing comes in hard sobs. I can only hope these are tears of relief - if not, this is a very cruel world and a literal insult to injury.

"Tori, Tori," she cries. "Sshh, Tris, it's ok, don't talk now, you're safe, I promise," I continue working her injuries because it seems the only useful thing I have to offer. The tears are now also running down my face too, I'm not sure whether they are flowing for me, for Tris or for Georgie. As soon as I can, I prop Tris up a little and encourage her to drink the tea I have prepared, it has powerful healing properties, to which I have added strong pain medication and a more than mild sedative. I blow on the liquid and hold the cup to her lips, Tris has not the awareness that the tea is rather bitter, she has enough to do just to sip and swallow.

I tell her that she will be asleep shortly, that I am going to reset her nose and give her some stitches, she doesn't even nod and is asleep before the end of the tea. I make short work of the injuries on her face but it takes much longer to find all those that have littered her tiny frame. She has internal injuries as well as broken and cracked ribs, front and back, which I am unable to wrap without a second pair of hands. I have to make do with cold compresses and other makeshift first aid remedies.

Exhausted and emotionally wrought, I watch her sleeping deeply and will her to rest easy and mend quickly. Remembering that she apparently feels the cold, I pile the blankets on her, tucking them around her so that no sneaky breezes can reach her skin. Then I lean over the toilet and vomit.