Chapter Six

"Natalie!" Papa growls like a malicious dog, the clomp of his feet loud against the floor, even buffered by the plain, grey rug; it seems he's kept his shoes on in his rage, and they will dirty the carpeting. "You have some explaining to do!"

My breath catches in my throat, and my heart pounds in my ears like the ceremonial drums of Choosing Day. I've only heard them once, when I snuck out to listen — music is self-indulgent — but they were loud, ominous, signifying a change that could make or break a person, reconstruct or ruin their life. Papa's footsteps grow louder.

I fear for Mama, for the weight of Papa's anger will fall upon her shoulders, and I fear for Tobias, because he will be caught in the explosion. So I stand up, because I am brave, and I shrug off Caleb's warning hand that snatches my elbow and make my way into the hallway, no doors to hide behind, no walls to protect me.

Tobias catches my eye from my bedroom and beckons me inside; I follow, and Mama holds both of us in her arms as Papa stomps around in the kitchen downstairs. Caleb's bedroom door slams shut, and a click resounds in the air. I hope that he's hiding somewhere safe.

Somewhere safe… Suddenly, anywhere near Papa feels dangerous. He's never been like this before! What is happening to him? Somehow, I doubt that all this is a result of stress at work, this evil inside of him that has turned him into someone to hide from. Then, I realize that I've taken Tobias away from one bad man and thrusted him into the line of fire of another, and Thomas' words have never seemed more true, more wise. We should have kept Tobias away from Papa… from Andrew.

He calls out again for Mama, and she holds us closer under her arms. "Stay here with Tobias," she whispers to me, and I nod, even if I want to go with her. Pick your battles, Baby. Right now, I need to keep Toby safe. She places a kiss on each of our foreheads, checks to make sure Caleb's door is locked, and takes a deep breath before going downstairs. She mutters something under her breath, but I can't hear.

"Come on," Tobias says, tugging at my arm. "Let's go."

"Go where?" I ask. We are supposed to stay here.

"Listen. At the top of the stairs."

"No!" I cry, holding him back. He's startled, like it was a given that we disobey Mama. "I need to keep you safe."

His eyes soften, and a small smile plays on his lips. "Bea-Tris," he says, taking my hand. "We'll be safe. I just need to know if they're fighting about me."

I bite my lip so hard that blood rises to the surface. "Are you sure? What if he…"

"Tris," he says, using my Dauntless name. "We need to be there. For Mama."

I nod, realizing that it's not just us that he could hurt. It doesn't go over my head that he called her Mama. "Okay, Toby with four fears. Let's be brave."

"Dauntless," he adds with a dimpled smile.

"Yeah," I say, and we walk out together into the hallway, into the crossfire, and perch at the top of the stairs. It's angled so that, if we lean to the right, we can see into the combined kitchen and dining room that are separated by a stone-glass island, but they can't see us. Toby and I, with our Abnegation robes, blend right into the grey fabric that covers the stairs and the walls. Mama and Andrew's loud voices carry across the little space that separates us.

"It's him, isn't it? There are 'missing child' posters with his name on them everywhere, Nat! Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?" He's awfully close to her — I've never seen them that close. Then he leans over and presses his finger into her shoulder, hard enough to send her back a bit. That's the first time I've seen my parents touch.

She growls back, "No, honestly, I didn't. There are no photos of him and, despite your birth faction, Andrew, you aren't terribly smart."

"He was Erudite," I whisper to Toby. He nods slightly, enthralled by the scrap, listening for clues.

Andrew's face turns red like the tomatoes we sometimes get to eat for dinner. "You little—"

"Need I remind you of where I was born, Andrew?" Her muscles twitch, and it all clicks in my head — Mama must have been Dauntless.

"It's almost been a decade," he snarls back. "You've gone soft, Nat. I would suggest you back down now and get rid of the boy before I turn him in to his father. Why is he here, anyways?"

"You know why he's here," she says, low and threatening, but I am not scared of her. "You've known for years, and yet you never told me. You never said anything." Pause. "Andrew, you are a coward."

"Well, Nat," he replies, "I can be a coward here. If you still believe that cowardice is the enemy, go back to Dauntless."

"You aren't just a coward. You're selfish," she spits at him, and his face contorts with rage. She goes on. "Sometimes the two are synonymous, Andrew. Just like bravery and selflessness. But you… You belong nowhere. You are neither smart nor selfless, neither brave nor honest, and certainly not kind. But my children, including Tobias Eaton, are all of those things,"

I look at Toby, and there are tears in his eyes. I know they are happy tears. He takes my hand, but doesn't look away from Mama. There are tears in his eyes, but there is also love.

There is no love in Andrew's eyes when he looks at Mama. "You've chosen the wrong side, Nat, the side of weakness. Marcus is our leader, and you've chosen to be unfaithful." He smirks. "As I recall, that is treason." What does that mean?

Mama's breathing quickens. "Are you threatening me, Andrew?"

He comes closer and strokes her cheeks with his thumb, a loving gesture filled with hate. "Really, Nat. You're my wife. I didn't want it to come to this."

Thomas was right.

"Maybe I was blinded by love when I married you," she hisses, "but now I see you for who you are. I want you out, Andrew, by the end of the day, or we can test just how soft I've become."

He nods his head, but there is a smirk on his face. Mama may have won the fight, but she's loosing the battle. "I'll send someone to collect my things," he says as he backs out of the kitchen. "Perhaps my new friend."

Andrew turns and makes his way to the door when his eyes connect with mine. Toby and I freeze in our spots, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders, hearts battering in our chests. A loud gulp comes from Toby, and Andrew's eyes flicker to him. The smirk on his face grows as he changes direction, moving towards us.

"Ah," he says, suddenly calm, and the blood drains from my face. "You must be Tobias." No! I should have listened to Mama, kept Toby safe, stayed in my bedroom… Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mama's breathing stop, and she marches over to us.

"Leave him alone." Her voice is full of warning. "I wasn't kidding."

Andrew's eyes trail along the bandages peeking out from Toby's gunmetal-coloured shirt. "Yes, I suppose it would be unfair to kick him while he's down. But I think we all know that I don't play fair."

I have to do something. The taste of vomit rises to the top of my throat as I say, "Papa, don't hurt him. He's my best friend."

His eyes soften for a moment, but only a moment. Suddenly, they are harder than ever, and the lines in his face make him look older, worn down. "Like I care," he mutters, and in that moment, my father is gone. Papa is gone, and Andrew has taken his place.

Andrew starts up the stairs towards us, and all hope I have left in me vanishes into the cold winter air outside our grey-walled house. Then, without warning, he's fallen to the floor, and Mama's elbows are locked around his throat, her bare foot pressing down on the squishy part of his back. He coughs, and blood splatters onto the rug.

"I may have chosen the side without governmental power," she hisses at him, tightening her grip on his throat, "but it is not the side of weakness."

"You have gone soft, Nat," he persists, but he winces as her foot presses further into his back. "I'd be dead right now if you hadn't."

"I'm not a monster," she replies, "but you still shouldn't tempt me." Mama glances up at us, and the look on her face leads me to believe that she thinks we will be scared of her. We are not; instead, we are proud. Our Mama is strong. She is brave. She is what we want to be.

She lets him go; she is merciful. "Get out, Andrew, and don't you dare come back and threaten me or my kids ever again."

"Soft like a teddy bear," he mutters as he backs away, rubbing his throat, and the door closes gently behind him. Tobias lets go of my hand and runs down the stairs to Mama, where she pulls him into a hug.

Then, Toby turns around and calls to me. "Come down here, Bea-Tris." I join them, and we all stay there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, and soon enough Caleb joins as well.

It's over. Finally, it's over

"Why can't Toby come?" I whine as Mama wraps my hair around itself and secures it with a clear elastic. It's the only thing I own that isn't grey. "I'll miss him."

"You know why he can't come, Tris."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. Marcus is looking for him, he's behind on the curriculum, blah blah…"

She smiles as she helps my arms into the backpack. "He'll miss you too, you know."

I suck on the left side of my bottom lip. "Sure."

"I will," calls a voice from the other side of the closed door. Mama laughs and goes to open the door, and Toby stumbles inside — he was leaning against it.

"Eavesdropper," I mock as he hugs me. The mood is lighter around the house now that Andrew is gone.

Since the day we found Toby, one week ago today, Mama and I have gone each night to feed the factionless; we still haven't been able to find Thomas. Each night, I stay with Toby until he falls asleep. Sometimes he has nightmares about Marcus — one time, he had one about Andrew. When he has nightmares, I stay with him all night. Honestly, Caleb and I have practically switched rooms.

"Not eavesdropping," he replies, ruffling my hair. The bun comes undone, and I groan. Mama only smiles and comes to do it again as Toby looks at her apologetically. "As I was saying, I just so happened to be leaning against that door…"

I laugh. "Oh, be quiet, Tobias." He feigns a look of hurt at my use of his full name, and I whack him playfully. It's been days since he's winced at a playful touch, and today is no exception. He smiles.

"Well then, Beatrice," he counters, and I groan again, throwing my head back. Mama tells me to be still, and I mutter an apology as she tugs at my head. Toby grabs my hand. "I will miss you, you know."

As his deep blue eyes like the sky or the sea stare down at me — he's grown quite a bit, now that he's eating properly — I understand that he will miss me just as much as I'll miss him. "Yeah, I do."

Then he smirks. "Have fun in faction history."

"Gah!" I yell as I tackle him, but I'm not strong enough to push him over. He laughs heartily and pulls me into another hug. I huff, failing to cross my arms in fake annoyance — the embrace is nice, but I won't tell him that. It'll just inflate his ego.

"Mama! Beatrice! Hurry up," Caleb complains, already dressed and ready and standing impatiently in front of his closed bedroom door. His legs bounce up and down in anticipation, and I can tell he's excited to return to school after a week. I, on the other hand, could not be dreading it more — it being both going to school and leaving Tobias for a whole day. Mama didn't want either of us to go until Toby was settled, but she couldn't put if off any longer; I think it had something to do with Andrew and Marcus as well. She can't protect us if we're at school.

I still don't know where Andrew is staying now that Mama kicked him out. It's hard to remember any friends of his, looking back; the only person who ever came over for dinner was Marcus.

"Coming, Caleb," Mama replies, grabbing my old coat from my closet. I smile when I see that coat with its holes and scruffy fabric; it reminds me of two things. Number one, the little factionless girl whose arms are now warm and snug, and number two, the night my life changed, and I met Tobias.

I don't even mind how it makes my arms itch. Winter is almost over, and soon it will be spring.

As I go to join Mama and Caleb by the door, Toby stops me and places in my palm a little black stone. "Black like Dauntless," he says, closing my fingers over it. "To remind you that you are brave."

Tears prick my eyes. "Thank you, Toby. I love it." His hand stays over mine for a second before he lets go.

He whispers, "We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another." When those words leave his lips, I think of Christina and her short, black hair. She stood up for me; she is brave. Now that Andrew is gone, maybe we can be friends again.

I bring the stone to my lips before placing it in my pocket. "I'll keep it with me," I say. "Always."

"Beatrice!" Caleb calls again. I press a delicate kiss to Tobias' cheek before hastily joining them.

The bus picks us up at the station, but no one moves. Each grey-clad Abnegation child waits for someone else to board before them; the one to enter first will be the most selfish. It's a game we play every day, a game that nobody wins. Sometimes the bus leaves, and we all walk to school together, no one a step ahead of anyone else. Maybe to them, the unity is endearing, but it makes me sick.

Today, I enter first. Caleb doesn't even try to stop me; instead, he enters second. The thought that he doesn't have to be Abnegation, that he doesn't have to hide his Erudite, sets him free. He's no longer playing their game, and neither am I.

I am Abnegation, but I am not this kind of Abnegation. I am the kind that does selfless things that matter, not the kind that plays along with pointless charades, and I will not pretend to be.

None of the others board the bus, and the doors shut with a puff of fine powder. I watch through the glass as the bus spurs along, leaving them in our dust, and they set off walking in our direction. Soon, they disappear behind us.

The bus' shaking throws me off balance, and I fall into an empty seat.

"Looks like the Stiff decided to join the rest of society," the Candor girl beside me sneers.

Tears threaten to fall. "Christina," I whisper, shocked that she would say such mean things to me.

Guilt flashes across her face, but she continues. "What, you got sick of being 'selfless'? Finally realized that your life sucks?"

"Christina," I whimper, cheeks wet. Her eyes well up as well, but she doesn't break. "I thought we were friends."

"Friends don't abandon each other, Beatrice."

"No!" I cry out. "I didn't abandon you! My father—"

"Don't make excuses," she says, angry tears streaming down her face.

I swallow the knot in my throat, but it doesn't budge. "I didn't…" I stop trying to convince her when she turns and faces the window. We sit in silence for the rest of the ride, and I don't wait for everyone else to get off the bus when we come to a stop.

The day passes slowly. Throughout faction history, I think about Tobias, Christina, Andrew, Marcus… I think about Mama, and how she was born in Dauntless, and how I will transfer in nine years and become a traitor to my family, and maybe never see them again. Still, it's the best faction history class ever.

Then, lunch rolls around, and I sit at my usual cafeteria table with Caleb, Susan, and Robert (our neighbours), when the sound of yelling fills the large room.

"What did you just say?" It's a Candor boy with dark, shiny hair and striking green eyes, and he's yelling at another Candor, tan with black hair that stops at her jaw… Christina.

"You heard me, Peter!" she yells back, standing tall. She's brave for sure, but she's also stupid. He could knock her out with one blow.

An Amity boy runs into the room. "Hey, don't fight—" The boy, Peter, glares at him, and he cowers. So much for keeping the peace. But he's still brave for trying — maybe Amity and Dauntless aren't so different. Then I imagine the tattoos and piercings that cover the men and women who jump on and off trains, and I shake my head.

He makes a fist, and I see Christina shrink back. Without thinking, I run over to them and shout, "Hey, leave Christina alone!"

Shock envelops him, but he raises his eyebrows. "A Stiff," he says, letting out a mean-spirited laugh. "Do you have a death wish?"

I stand tall, suddenly just as stupid as Christina. But I won't back down like the Amity boy, because courage runs through my veins; it's in my blood, in Mama's blood. "I'm not scared of you."

Then a terrible pain runs through me from my nose, and a warm liquid drips onto my lip. I am knocked to the ground, head hitting the floor, and I see red stain the marble — it's blood. A loud uproar fills the cafeteria, and I see black cloth surround Peter, and suddenly he disappears from sight. Spots cloud my vision, my head throbs, and the last thing I see is a dark-skinned boy dressed in black before I fade into darkness.

We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.