A/N: I'm sorry, but I had some difficulties uploading the chapter. For some reason I always got back an error.

Special thanks to badass4ever and ItsHardIKnow for their continued support and help in editing the chapters.

Chapter 5

Tobias

It's been two weeks since the wedding, two weeks since I started sharing my room with Beatrice. Marcus didn't care that my bed wasn't big enough for two people, instead he made comments about how "the girl", as he refers to her, is an insolent little troublemaker, and if she keeps up her attitude she will be put in her place. So far, I've taken all the beatings for her. I couldn't bear knowing that Marcus would hurt her.

After the first time she witnessed Marcus Eaton in all his glory, she tried everything and anything to please him. But I am well aware that it doesn't have to be a real reason for Marcus to lash out. I had promised her brother that I would protect her, and I intend to keep that promise.

That same night, Marcus came home very late, and very drunk. Thankfully, he went straight to his bedroom, and fell asleep. We could hear his snoring through the closed door, and the walls. Beatrice took care of me. At first, I didn't want her to, but having someone else cleaning my wounds was awkwardly comforting. She spent the entire evening tending to my wounds, and during the night she let me sleep in the bed, making sure I was comfortable. She snuck out of the room to get me water, and some bread to eat, and during the night she made sure I was covered up, and didn't shiver. I felt bad that she had to sleep on the floor, but I didn't have the energy to fight her.

Marcus beat me two other times since Beatrice came to live with us. I can tell there is a rage underneath the surface, but she keeps it bottled up. It amazes me how a little girl like her can be so strong. Physically she is weak, but her spirit is strong, and the more Marcus tries to oppress her, the brighter the fire in her eyes burns.

Now, we are sharing my bed, after Marcus came in one night and saw me sleep on the floor. I received a beating, and he must have slapped Beatrice a couple of times after I passed out. In the morning, she served his food, and politely explained when he asked why we didn't act like husband and wife. I could see it in her eyes that her answer was something along the lines of "we were forced to live this sham" but instead explained that because of me taking after my father, I am tall, and well-built, and there was just not enough room. Being the gentleman Marcus raised me to be, I always offered her the bed. I was flabbergasted at her articulate and polite response. It was only after I replayed her words in my mind, that I realized how clever she really was in her wording. By praising Marcus, she not only ensured he wouldn't lash out on us again, but also made him reconsider getting us a bigger bed. Obviously, I had to build it, and Beatrice and I had to go get a new mattress, but she was a pleasant company throughout the process.

It is still awkward with the both of us sleeping in the same bed. I take the side that is against the wall, because Beatrice asked me to. She didn't want to say it at first, but I think the fact that she can sleep closer to the door is a little comfort to her, like she can just walk out when this situation becomes too much for her. We both know that won't happen. I don't know what Marcus did or how he blackmailed Mr. Prior, but I doubt he would have just let his daughter marry a complete stranger while still a dependent. I only met him a few other times, but he was always talking fondly of his children. He didn't seem the type to be interested more in his social status than his family, yet this whole situation we are in right now suggests otherwise. I thought maybe I was wrong about him, but during the time I've spent with Beatrice she has told me how strange her father started behaving. Something must have happened, I conclude.

For the first time in years, I had someone other than Marcus in my life. I know that if it were up to Beatrice she wouldn't be here right now, but I am thankful for her presence nevertheless. She is hard working, and I know she is only on her best behavior to spare me more pain. If it was only her against Marcus I'm sure she would have killed him by now. I would have never suspected it, but I caught her right before she made a huge mistake.

During Beatrice's second night in our house, Marcus came home drunk again. I was still recovering from the beating from the night before, when I heard some shuffling. The door had opened, and I fully expected my father to enter, but instead silence fell. I looked out to see where Beatrice was supposed to lie on the ground, but she was gone. That's when I realized she left the room. I wouldn't have moved at all, given that I was still healing, but I heard the unmistakable creak of Marcus's bedroom door. Either he came out or worse she went in. To my dread, it was the latter. She held a knife in her hand, and was hovering over my father's sleeping form. I took two huge steps toward her, and embraced her. I pulled her out of there, and carried her back to our room. I took the knife away from her, depositing it in my desk drawer, and turned to scold her. But it was then when I saw her tear stained face, the red eyes, and heard those heart-breaking sounds coming from her. I couldn't be mad anymore. I pulled her in my arms, and for the first time since we were forcefully married, I held my wife.

That night was a turning point in our relationship. We stayed up all night talking to each other. For some unknown reason I told her everything that went on in Marcus's house from my earliest memories to that night. Beatrice cried the whole time, and at first I thought she was lamenting her own fate, but then she surprised me by switching positions, and holding me. It was only then that I realized that I was crying just as hard as she was. She comforted me in a way I've never been comforted before. I melted against her, and my resolve to keep her out of harm's way solidified.

Since then, we slowly became friends. We figured, we had no other choice anyway. We worked together like a well-oiled machine, sometimes without even saying a word. We knew what the other needed before anyone could even ask. I got to know her on a more personal level when she opened up about her own concerns regarding our situation, about the strange threat my father made, about her plan to leave Abnegation come her Choosing Day. At hearing that she wanted to leave, I felt a pang of jealousy and betrayal. I know I shouldn't feel this way. It wasn't her fault she was forced to marry me. There is no place she can go. Her parents kicked her out, and staying with Marcus or anywhere near him is like a slow death. And Beatrice is too much alive to die this way.

We are preparing dinner in comfortable silence, when I can't take it anymore. I need to know what she plans to do. She doesn't owe me anything, but she has become an important part of my life. In fact, she is the only important thing in my life. I couldn't care less if my father died this very instant. But she is important. She is my only friend, my best friend. I confided in her the way I never did with anyone. Ever since she came here a different energy courses through this house, and makes it more alive. Or it makes me more alive. She gives me strength whether she intends to or not.

"Where would you go?" I ask, startling her.

"What?" she asks confused. The conversation we had when she confessed she planned on leaving Abnegation was two days ago. Obviously, she doesn't know what I mean.

"When you get to choose, where would you go?" I ask her again. This time, I turn my body completely toward her, and wait for her to answer. She stares up into my eyes, and smiles.

"Dauntless." I am stunned. I would have never expected that. I would have thought maybe Amity, but not the crazy Dauntless.

"That's too dangerous," I blurt out without thinking. She frowns.

"It's a lot more dangerous here at the mercy of your father," she spits. I cringe. "I can be free there. I gave it a lot of thought," she says, before resuming her task. She remains quiet after that.

Dinner is thankfully uneventful, and I almost sigh in relief when it's over. Beatrice has already started cleaning up the table, when Marcus asks me to join him in his bedroom. A shiver runs down my spine, thinking that I must have done something to upset him. I follow him quietly, and when I enter the room, he asks me to close the door.

"Have you and Beatrice consummated your marriage yet?" he asks. His voice is steady and calm, but I can hear the undertone. He is not pleased. Consummate? Does he mean sex? He must have picked up on my confusion, and continues. "Did you and your wife have sex already?" he asks. I shake my head, and see his face turn red. However, he remains calm. For now. "Why not?" Why not? Because we practically just met. Because we live in a house with a sadistic monster. Because I don't want to force her to do something against her will. Because I don't deserve to take her virginity. There are a thousand reasons why not, but I look for the most polite one.

"I felt it would be inappropriate with my father in the next room," I start saying. "Beatrice is still getting used to her new life, and I don't want her to be unhappy," I add. Marcus remains quiet. He seems to weigh my answer carefully. Ever since Beatrice came here, I carefully watched her talk to my father. She is smarter than she lets on, and she can be just as manipulative as Marcus, if she so chooses to. However, she is only that way with him.

"You might be right. She might not even know what it means to be a wife," he says pensively. Of course, she doesn't. She is sixteen. I don't know what being a husband means, and I'm older. "Nevertheless, you need to break her in," he says, and my eyes widen.

"What?" I ask confused.

"You need to be intimate with your wife. It will be painful at first, given she is still a virgin. Andrew assured me of that," he adds, as if that would have been the most important thing in the world. "And you have to do it regularly. I expect a grandchild by the end of the year," he states matter-of-factly. I am flabbergasted at my father's request. Not only is he asking me to practically force Beatrice to be intimate with me, but he expects us to have a child. I am not even a member of this faction yet, and with Beatrice wanting to leave Abnegation, I don't see how I could break this to her.

"I don't think she is ready," I try to argue, but I can tell I am already walking on thin ice.

"Then make her ready. You have a week," he says, and sends me out, so he can rest.

I leave the room quickly, not wanting to antagonize him. I walk to my bedroom, and find Beatrice already sitting on the bed, staring at the door. The moment I step inside, she jumps up, and comes to inspect me. This has become a ritual for us. Whenever Marcus would have me alone with him in a room, Beatrice would look for new wounds and bruises as soon as I returned. This time, there are none. Instead there is a new threat to her safety and integrity. I decide to not tell her what Marcus said, wanting to avoid her bursting out, and yelling. Sometimes I wonder who has the worst temper: Beatrice or Marcus? But then I am quickly reminded by her gentle touch, that even when she gets angry she is kind. Marcus is the polar opposite. I will have to tell her though.

By some miracle, she doesn't insist on me telling her what he wanted, instead we both climb into bed, and fall asleep. It is still awkward, but once I know she is fast asleep I go to hold her close to me. I know I probably shouldn't. If she would wake up right now, she would be very mad with me. But for the time being, I am selfish. I love holding her. Her simple presence is a soothing balm, and I feel home for the first time in years.

A/N: Reviews as always welcomed.