Chapter Seventeen

My eyes linger on the back of Tobias' neck as we walk through the dark pathways leading through the compound. There's some sort of tattoo peeking from the collar of his T-shirt, but I keep getting distracted by the way the fabric clings to his muscles. I don't know what the tattoo is, but I can't help but wonder who he trusted enough to let see his back. I'd always thought I was the only person he showed his scars to.

He stops abruptly, and I catch myself before I crash into him.

"This is where we divide," Lauren says. "Dauntless-born, come with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place." They break away from the rest of the group and disappear; Uriah shrugs apologetically and drops a kiss on my forehead before joining them. I should have realized that we would be separated.

"Damn," I mutter dejectedly as he is engulfed by the shadows. "Should've seen that coming."

"This sucks," Christina whines. "I was looking forward to seeing him train shirtless." I make a face at her, and she socks me in the arm.

Lark seems deep in thought. "Are you and him together?" he asks me as we continue on our path. Tobias stiffens noticeably.

"Me and Uriah?" I say. "Not a chance. He's had a crush on Marlene since they were ten, and I…"

"You?" he prods.

"I'm…" My gaze falls on Tobias, and something stirs in the pit of my stomach. "I'm just trying to get through initiation."

Christina giggles. "I've got my eyes on tall, dark, and Erudite up there."

I shake my head and exchange looks with Lark. "Christina will be Christina. Anyway, what about you?"

"Me? The last time I had a boyfriend, it didn't go so well, Tris."

"What happened?"

He sighs. "Let's just say I ended up with a broken heart and nowhere to sleep for a week."

"Oh. Well it doesn't have to be like that, here."

"I guess." He looks ahead, and a smile spreads across his face. "Goose is cute."

"Goose?" He motions towards Tobias, and I sputter loudly. "Um, oh, I think you might be barking up the wrong tree."

"What makes you say that?"

I'm sure my face is bright red. "Just… a feeling."

Luckily for me, Tobias chooses that time to address us. I don't miss the flash of amusement in his eyes. "Listen up, initiates. For the next few weeks, I am your instructor," he announces. "My name is Four."

Christina snorts. "Four? Like the number?"

"Exactly like that," he says. "Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which someday you will learn to love. It—"

"The Pit? Clever name." She snickers again, and the tension coming off of Tobias makes my chest tighten.

He stalks up to her, and for a moment, he just stares. My heartbeat quickens, and not because of the beauty he holds in his eyes. There is danger in them, fire that I've seen in… his father. Who is this man? Who is Four?

As if catching himself, he shakes his head, and the look is gone, but it is forever ingrained in my memory. "What's your name?" he asks quietly. It startles me, because though they've never met, he certainly knows who she is. I've told him. Then again, just forty minutes ago he asked me for my name. Mine. As though we don't know each other totally and completely. As if we didn't watch each other grow up.

"Christina," she squeaks — she's afraid of him. Afraid of Tobias. Afraid of the sweet little boy who avoided stepping on cracks because he feared for my mother. No… no, to them, he is just 'Four,' the intimidating, strong, powerfully built instructor.

"Well, Christina," he hisses, her name like a bullet aimed at me. "If I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Understand?"

She nods.

Tobias starts toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates follow in silence.

"What a jerk," Christina mumbles.

"Maybe he just doesn't like to be laughed at." For some reason, I can't help but defend him. Because he's Tobias. Because I knew he wouldn't be the same man he was when he left… but this?

My eyes burn, but I hold back tears. It is my first instinct to cry when I am frustrated, but today that will change. I remember asking myself, when I stop crying at frustration, will that be the moment I become Dauntless? The knot in my throat grows painful, but I hold them at bay. I have control over my tears. I am strong.

Still, I am reminded of when Uriah told me that tears do not equate weakness, and my resolve chips slightly.

Tobias leads us through the Pit, a large cavern of rock and stone with precarious ledges and rails and a myriad of stores. Black-clad people fill the space, each distinguished by a hair colour or ink design or metal bar. Small children run around recklessly, and I have to hold myself back from telling them to be careful. It's so open, the stores without doors, the room without walls to separate these people, light streaming through the glass ceiling, and a fuzzy memory of Abnegation fills my mind: darkness, boarded-up windows, screams, blood, isolation.

That kind of loneliness seems impossible in this place.

"If you follow me," says Tobias, "I'll show you the chasm."

I hear and feel it before I see it. The familiar rush of fast-moving water, the crash of it against boulders, the white, foamy spray against my ankles that soaks my toes through my shoes. Dangerous, in a stomach-tightening, spark-igniting way.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Tobias shouts. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned."

A flash of colour catches my eye. There are two bright red roses at my feet. Roses, like the kind one would place at a gravestone. But if someone were to fall to their death from here, what would be left to bury? I can't help but wonder the story behind those roses. Two friends, maybe? Or two parents? Red roses mean love. I shake my head and move forward without turning back, just like back on the roof when Rita's sister fell. Death happens every day here, and I'm going to have to get used to that.

Even then, I can't stop thinking about those two stupid roses.

By the time we reach the dining hall, the roar of the chasm still rings in my ears, but it is soon replaced by the cheers of the Dauntless. They hoot. They stamp their feet. Their shouts mix together so they become unintelligible, but it doesn't matter, because they have the same striking effect. This entire faction is loud, untamed, rowdy, and I love it. I want to be a part of it.

"Hey! Over here!" Uriah shouts over the roaring crowd. I grab Christina's hand, and we find ourselves at a mostly full table where a lot of transfers have gathered. There are steel tubs along the center full of brown meat wedged between slices of bread.

Somebody shoves a man behind me, and he falls against my back. Tobias. Because of the crowd, he is pushed up against me, close enough that his chest presses against my wounds. He holds his breath, careful not to move until there is enough space to break away without hurting me, just like I would have done for him years ago. Only Tobias would know to do that. Only him.

"Thank you," I whisper, staring at his chest where my gaze naturally falls. He is so tall, so encompassing.

When I look away, cheeks flushed, my eyes meet a pair of familiar brown eyes that I thought I would never see again, and a grin breaks across my face. "Zeke!" I squeal, throwing myself into his arms. He laughs heartily, holding me to his chest.

"God, I missed you," Zeke mutters under his breath, resting his chin on my head. Letting go, he holds me at arms length and makes a show of looking surprised. He wipes away a fake tear. "Sixteen, wow. They grow up so fast."

I punch him, and he feigns pain. Someday, he won't have to feign it. "Shut the hell up," I growl at him. "You're only two years older. Besides, you're still as small as you were last time I saw you. Maybe you should focus on growing up yourself." He pouts, making me laugh.

"I see she's still a fiery little Stiff," a voice says from behind him. Shauna. She smiles at me. "Good to see you again, Beatrice."

"You too, Shauna. Oh, and it's Tris now."

"Tris," she repeats. "I like it. Very Dauntless. You know, the first time I met you I had a feeling I would see you again."

"The first time you met her?" Tobias says disinterestedly, sitting down beside me. He grabs one of the strange food items in the tub and spoons some red stuff onto it.

"The day of our Aptitude Test," Shauna replies. "She came to see Zeke. Of course, he spilled that the first time they met, she was in the infirmary with a black eye. Let me tell you, everyone who was at that table has mad respect for her, Four."

"You can add first jumper to her list of achievements," Tobias announces casually, but I can hear the hint of pride in his voice.

Zeke hoots and claps me on the shoulder. "Damn, that's my girl!"

"If I remember correctly, Zeke, you were also first jumper," Tobias adds, letting out a laugh. I missed that genuine laugh, now loud and bellowing, still sweet as the chime of bells. By the look on Zeke's face, he doesn't appreciate it as much.

"Oh yeah," Shauna snorts. "You fell face-first into that net. That was priceless. Though, to be fair, all we saw was your ass disappearing off the roof."

"Hey! I do not appreciate the fun-poking. My nose was red and puffy for weeks!"

She sobers. "Right, sorry. I shouldn't be laughing at your injuries… Rudolf." The table erupts in laughter, banging on the wood and slapping each other on the back. The kind of roughhousing that makes Dauntless warm and welcoming. I smile to myself as they break off into their own conversations, Christina and Lark with the other transfers about their old factions and the Dauntless about the latest scandals.

Uriah stares at me pointedly and juts his chin towards Tobias, then turns and dissolves into their conversations, poking fun at Zeke good-naturedly. I sigh quietly, hugging my arms, and Tobias pushes the plate of meat towards me.

"Eat," he says, concern laced through his voice. "You'll need the strength tomorrow."

"My stomach's become rather small," I reply. "I don't want to throw up."

"Just a little." He lowers his voice. "Please, for me." It's the first real acknowledgement that he even remembers who I am. His stirring eyes see through me, and I nod softly, picking up one of the meat-between-bread things. Unsure what to do with it, I squish it between my fingers. Oil oozes from it.

Christina catches my hand, wide-eyed. "Gosh, Tris, what are you doing? You look like you've never seen a hamburger before."

"I've seen one, just never eaten one. A hamburger, that's what it's called?" She nods.

"It's beef," Tobias adds, acting as though he just noticed me. "Put this on it."

He shows me the bowl of red stuff, takes the top piece of bread off my 'hamburger', and spoons it on, his arm brushing against mine as he works. He used to help me with my food all the time, so I think nothing of it, thanking him quietly. Christina gives him a strange look, but brushes it off and continues expressing her shock at my having never eaten one of these before.

"I've never eaten one either," Lark says, probably just sensing my unease at the attention. "Amity don't eat meat."

"And Abnegation eat plain food," says the Erudite boy Christina was ogling earlier. "Plant-based diet with no sauces and a minimum of seasoning."

Christina raises her eyebrows. "What textbook did you swallow?"

He smiles cheekily. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Will, Erudite."

"Of course you are," she replies. "Tris, I swear, in all the years I've known you, I've never not felt sorry for you."

I shrug. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."

She smirks. "No wonder you left."

"Yeah," I reply, rolling my eyes. "It was just because of the food."

The corner of Tobias' mouth twitches.

"Wait, all the years you've known her?" says a Candor named Al. "I thought you two were from different factions."

"I was Candor," Christina tells him. "She was a Stiff. We met at school, and we've been friends for almost nine years now."

"Wow," grunts Peter from the other end of the table. I don't remember him sitting down. "A Stiff, friends with a Mouth? I've never heard of something like that before. Then again, you probably get being a faction traitor from your mother."

The table goes silent, including the members.

Peter smirks. "Haven't you heard? Rumour has it that her mother was executed for treason. That's how she died, and why. Not that I'm surprised. Abnegation was always the corrupt faction."

I fall silent, unable to defend my mother. Unable to tell the truth — that the boy sitting beside me killed my mother. His entire body tenses, and I can almost feel the pain and guilt and rage radiating off of him like heat from the sun. So I do the only thing I can; I place my hand over his, under the table, because even though I can't forgive him… he's still Tobias. Because even though he pulled the trigger, he's not the one who killed her. He squeezes back, and his breathing evens out.

"You're a jackass," Christina snaps at Peter. "Her mother was murdered by a factionless man."

Zeke slams his hands on the table, and the rage seething inside him explodes. "Just because you were too scared to jump off that damn roof first doesn't mean you need to spread lies like that. I swear to God if you say another word to her—" Uriah puts his hand on Zeke's arm, calming him down, and I thank him with a gracious nod. He reciprocates.

Peter smirks. "So you have boys in Dauntless, too? I see you're well prepared. You know, I was wondering how you even got this far. I bet this guy told you that there was a net at the bottom of that fall. Coward."

Uriah stands up abruptly. "I thought you looked familiar," he says, glaring at the smug boy. "You're the one who punched Tris and sent her to the infirmary all those years ago, right? You're full of bullshit." Everyone at the silent table turns to Peter — it seems they all remember the day they met me and Zeke told them what happened. The day that changed my life, that made me realize what it means to be Dauntless.

The Dauntless take bullying very seriously; they are the Protectors, and they don't like it when people prey on those who can't defend themselves.

I see it again today — the respect in their eyes. Tobias grasps at my fingers, and I know that this exchange is taking a toll on him.

Tobias surprises me when he leans forward and says in a low, terror-instilling voice, "I think I can speak on everyone's behalf that we don't need cowards like you in this faction, initiate. One more indiscretion and your cowardice will no longer be tolerated by Dauntless leadership."

"Take his word for it," Zeke growls. "If he wanted to, Four could remove you to the factionless right now."

"You have the power to do that?" I remark. He stares into my eyes.

"I'm one of the six leaders," he replies. "So, yes, you should definitely take me seriously."

I am left speechless — Tobias, a leader? Of course I had always known he was capable, but I had never thought he would be interested. I had always seen him as a simple worker, perhaps a tattoo artist, or maybe even in the patrols.

"Seriously? But you're so young," Lark says.

Tobias gives him a grave look. "Age doesn't matter here." No, it doesn't — skill, determination, dedication are what matter. Heart. Tobias has all of it.

The doors to the cafeteria open, and a hush falls over the room. So quiet that I can hear the sound of a man entering the room, the sharp sound of hard boots and rock. I look over my shoulder. His neck is tattooed with fierce-looking blocks, and there are two black rods piercing his right eyebrow. He wears heavy studs in his ears, and the sides of his blond hair are buzzed to the scalp. His appearance is thick and frightening, but what really makes him menacing is the cold, empty look in his eyes as they sweep across the room.

"Who's that?" hisses Christina.

"His name is Eric," says Tobias. "He's also a leader."

"You two don't give off the same vibe," Lark notes.

Tobias' eyes harden. "He's a different kind of Dauntless."

When I look at Eric, I immediately want to look away. It's that kind of unapproachable air to him that makes him a terrible choice for leadership. But Eric's eyes stop scanning the room when they land on us, and he starts towards our table, dropping into the seat next to Tobias.

He stares at me, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Pretty little Stiff," he snarls, sending a shiver down my spine. "Aren't you going to introduce me, Four?"

"This is Tris and Christina," Tobias says, caution at the tip of his tongue. "Initiates, meet Eric."

"You'd think Dauntless would have less Stiffs than it does," he says pointedly. Tobias doesn't look him in the eye. "I thought we'd changed that. We'll see how long you last."

I narrow my eyes at him, a bitter taste in my mouth. "I plan on staying, but go ahead and try to change my mind."

"Tris," Tobias hisses warningly. It may sound like he's berating me for being rude or disrespectful, but to anyone really listening, he's cautioning me against getting on this man's bad side. He's trying to keep me safe.

Eric watches me with a more calculated look now. "Interesting," he muses. He straightens and claps Tobias on the shoulder, a little too hard. "Max wanted me to tell you that we have a meeting in the morning." Eric eyes something on the bench we're seated at before smirking and getting up.

When he walks away, Tobias' eyes widen. "Shit," he mutters under his breath. I've never heard him curse before.

It's only when he pulls his hand away from mine like it's on fire that I realize what Eric was looking at with such amusement.

Christina and I sit cross-legged on my bed as she braids my hair. It reaches past my waist at this point. "You should really get this cut," she tells me. "It's going to give you hell in training."

I turn around to face her. "I know I should cut it, but I haven't since my mom died."

"Maybe saying this makes me a horrible person," she says, "but that was five years ago, and I think it's time to move on. Not that you should forget about her, but you should look at this as a new chapter in your life, and know that she's watching over you and wants you to be happy."

I don't reply. Christina smiles anyway and leans over to kiss my forehead before climbing into her own bed a few feet away. It's barely past nine o'clock, but most of us are already in bed. It's been a long day.

I'm so grateful that Christina and Uriah are here with me. And Tobias. I don't know what I would do without them, except that I would be lost. As I drift off to sleep, I picture those swimming blue eyes in my mind, but I keep seeing that look in them — the look he gave Christina when she talked back to him. His face keeps morphing into Marcus', then my father's, and then I wake with a start.

Not that I would have been able to get much sleep anyways. As I sit up in bed, I listen to the unconscious breathing of the nine other people in the room and think about what Eric said about rankings and cuts. Maybe if I hadn't trained in Abnegation, I would be worried. Still, I could use this to my advantage.

Loud, heavy sobs echo through the dormitory from the bunk next to mine. I'm almost sure everyone in this room cried themselves to sleep apart from myself, but at least they had the decency to do it quietly. Al turns in his bed, attempting to muffle his sobs with his pillow, but it doesn't work. I know I should comfort him, that my mother would want me to, but when I think about what Christina told me earlier, I realize that I am my own person.

That person is disgusted by Al's weakness. That person is not selfless. That person is not kind. That person will not comfort him.

I climb out of bed, and for a moment, Al quiets. Maybe he thinks I'm coming to talk to him. Instead, I pull on another shirt and slip out of the dorm, trying not to wake anyone. I can almost hear the disappointment in the next sob, even from halfway down the corridor, but I can't find it in myself to feel guilty about his tears.

At night, the pathways of Dauntless are even darker, lit only by the soft blue lanterns at the end of each hall, and cold. It's almost impossible to tell where I'm going, so I wander aimlessly, almost certain that I won't be able to find my way back until morning. Which means that I may have to find an alcove or something to sleep in. Which would probably be more comfortable anyway.

I follow the only sound I recognize — rushing water, the chasm. I don't know what draws me here other than my love of water. Sitting by the railing, I watch the white spray douse my feet, the cold sending a wave of contentment through my body. Those roses are gone, probably trampled by passing feet or swept up by the rising waves.

I know why everyone was crying: leaving their families, their homes, only to be met with the possibility of not even staying here. But, even though I am not overconfident about my chances of staying in Dauntless, I know that I am better off here even with that possibility than I was at Abnegation since I lost the only person who made me see the good in that place.

As the chasm churns and water crashes against rocks, I am hit with a memory so hard that it shocks me, playing in front of my eyes like it's happening in that moment.

"I love water," I say, leaning back against the smooth boulder. Tobias shakes his head, disagreeing.

"Water is nothing. It is tasteless and colourless… and boring. Definitely boring. You can never get any thrill from it."

"I think you're wrong," I countered, watching the gentle stream. "I don't know why or how, but there's something about water that seems dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

I nod. "Dangerous, powerful, like it could swallow you whole."

"Then why do you love it?"

"Because… it's strange. It can hurt you, but it also keeps you alive. And it's beautiful, whether it's blue or colourless." His lips part, and they raise into a grin. He shakes his head again, but this time, he does not disagree.

"Only you, Tris," he says, dipping his hand in the stream. "Only you." Then, quick as a dart, he pulls his hand from the stream and flicks it in my face, spraying water across my cheek. I squeal and duck, rolling across the ground and hiding behind a rock.

Finally, I realize what draws me to the chasm, to this place that could only hurt me, but still makes me feel safe. I withdraw the stone from my pocket. It's lost its shine entirely, now a muted grey colour that reminds me of my mother's eyes. I rub the smooth surface, thinking of the boy who gave it to me.

"I think about that stupid rock a lot," a voice says, startling me. He grins and sits beside me, careful not to let the water touch his feet. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," I protest, tucking the stone back into my pocket. "Just caught me off guard. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." I give him a look, and he holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine, I couldn't sleep so I was checking some of the security tapes and I saw you here and thought we should talk."

"What's a leader doing checking security tapes at one in the morning?"

"I like to know what's happening, and nighttime is usually when the secrets come out," he says cryptically. "Plus, it's relaxing. I like to think that if I wasn't a leader, I would work in the control room."

I snort. "Yeah, spying on people was always your thing."

He doesn't reply, only shakes his head and stands up. For a moment, I think he might be leaving me here. Then, he offers his hand to me. I stare at it, confused.

"Aren't you coming?" he asks.

"Where?"

"Somewhere we can talk, for real."

"Won't someone see us on the tapes?"

"I already told you, I have full access. One of the perks of leadership." I take his hand, and he lifts me up with little effort, muscles flexing in his arm. I like watching them ripple and entertain the idea of making him lift heavy stuff for me — until I realize I sound like Christina.

"What are you doing, anyways? I mean, being a leader."

He looks around, as if checking for spies, and says, "Come with me, we'll talk in my apartment." I nod and let Tobias lead me away from the chasm.

He guides me through the compound with expertise, and I'm impressed, even after two years here, that he can navigate in the dark. Because really, there's little to distinguish these halls. Eventually we make it past the closed-up shops and find ourselves in an area where the doors are far apart, which I assume is because leader apartments are larger than the others. Tobias enters the passcode and lets me in. I try not to dwell on the fact that his passcode is my birthday.

The first thing that hits me when I walk into his apartment are the words Fear God Alone painted on the far wall across from his bed. I remember the last time he said that to me, the day my mother was killed, and how much comfort and courage those words instilled in me.

I lean against the wall. "Okay, we're here. Talk."

He sighs and shuts the door. "There's a lot of things going on that you don't know about, things I can't explain right now. You have to trust me." Immediately, my mind goes to the word divergent, but I push the thought away.

"I don't know if I can."

"And I understand, after everything that's happened" he says. "But this is bigger than the both of us. All I've ever wanted was to keep you safe."

"I am safe."

"Not here." His arms are tense. "Not in Dauntless. At least, you wouldn't have been if I didn't accept Max's offer."

"You did this for me?"

"Partly," he admits. "But I did it for the faction, too. I could see where it was going, what was happening to the authority figures, and I took action. Especially when Eric was offered the same position. I didn't want to see the place I would spend the rest of my life in catch fire and burn in front of my eyes."

"What's with you and Eric, anyways? He gives me the creeps."

He hesitates. "Eric and I… we have a lot of history between us. And I… know things about him that he doesn't like me knowing. He's a complicated person, but not… bad. Dangerous, maybe. Volatile, yes."

"Oh." I wonder what occurred between the two of them. "What about initiation? You'd think a leader has better things to do than teach a bunch of kids how to fight."

"Both Eric and I are going to be there for the duration of your training. He's just watching, though. I made sure that my becoming an instructor was one of the conditions of taking up Max' offer."

"Conditions? Just how much did he want you, Tobias?"

"Enough."

Mind reeling, I sit down on the blue quilt, and he sits beside me. If he was anyone else, I would have taken the couch, but being on a bed with Tobias has never made me uncomfortable.

Although, now that we're older, I'm definitely more aware of his presence beside me.

After a moment of silence, his hand falls on my back, assessing my injuries, and I wince.

"Take off your shirt," he says absently. My eyes widen, and the direction my mind goes in makes my cheeks burn red. Plus, the fact that we are sitting on his bed doesn't help. When he looks at me, he seems to realize what I'm thinking, which only makes both of us blush harder. He sputters, "No, that's not… what I… I didn't mean…"

"Tobias?"

"I just meant… so I could see your back. You know, the cuts and whatnot. Sorry…" It amuses me how much like Tobias he seems now that we're alone and he's flustered. He scratches the back of his neck, and I laugh. He joins in after a moment, and then we're all-out laughing hysterically in the early hours of the morning.

I dry the tears in my eyes from laughing — the best kind of tears. "It's okay, Tobias."

He calms down. "It's really nice to hear my name again."

"It's really nice to hear my name, too. For the first time," I reply. "Turn around."

He does, and I pull my shirt over my head, left only in the black bra that Christina picked for me. But I'm comfortable, because I know that Tobias respects me, and I respect him. Because this is intimate, but not in the way that frightens me.

Still, I can't help the little fire burning in the pit of my stomach.

"Okay," I tell him, facing the wall. I hear the sheets shift, and then a sharp hiss that escapes him. I don't really know how bad the scarring is, but I do know that it's hard to treat those wounds on your own. And by the way my shirt stuck to my back, I assume I didn't do a very good job.

It's quiet for the longest time, and I hold my breath for all of it. Finally I give up and turn around, and what I see breaks my heart.

His face crumples when we lock eyes, absolutely falls apart, and tears stream down his cheeks, loud sobs racking his body. And yes, he is showing weakness, but I can't find it in myself to care. Suddenly he's nine years old, and I am seven, and Mama and I have just found him in the factionless sector, barely strong enough to chew, and we've brought him home, and now we're taking care of him. It's so incredibly endearing that my heart swells to twice its size and squeezes through my ribs.

I scoot closer to him, and he just holds me in his arms, whispering, "I'm so sorry for leaving you," over and over again, and I keep whispering, "It's okay, baby," until he stops crying and just rocks the both of us back and forth. I don't how long we stay like this, well past our legs becoming numb, and the raw feeling between us after all those years apart is overwhelming. There's nothing 'weak' here, just strength and pure emotion.

Looking up at his face, I press my lips against the lump in his throat, and his breath catches again. "I need to clean you up," he whispers into my hair, alternating between speaking and kissing the top of my head. I mewl in protest, but he just pulls back and walks into the bathroom, emerging with a large, quality first-aid kit.

"That's better than what Mama had," I say.

"I bought it yesterday, just in case…" Just in case I chose Dauntless, just in case my father hurt me enough. "I was hoping you wouldn't need me to use it."

I lay on my stomach as Tobias works, thinking back to the first time Mama cleaned his wounds. The heartbreaking cry he let out when she touched him with the anti-septic, how his hand squeezed mine.

"The first time I saw you," he begins, no doubt trying to distract me from the pain, "I knew you would end up in Dauntless. You were so strong, yet so compassionate. So brave."

I reply, hisses breaking my words up every now and then, "One of the first things you… said to me was that you wanted… to be Dauntless. I couldn't… see it at first, but then I imagined… your pale skin, but tan and strong and healthy instead… your back healed… your arms toned with muscles. I'm so proud of you… Toby." He stops when his nickname escaped my pained lips. When I look, a tear slips down his cheek.

"Don't worry, happy tears. Just happy that you're here with me," he mutters, grabbing a metal tool. "Not happy that bastard ever laid a hand on you. Or that I let him."

"You didn't let him. Tobias… back then, I needed you to leave. I know I said… I wanted you to go, but that was only… because I needed you… to be safe."

"I couldn't think about anything another than you. God, it was frustrating," he says. "I didn't know what to do with myself, not knowing if you were in pain, hurt, in trouble."

"The answer was probably… yes. To all of them," I admit, making him wince. "But I was just happy… that you were safe. I need you to… know that. Damn, that… hurts like hell."

"Sorry. It's almost over."

"Keep… talking… please." I groan loudly as something pierces my skin, but the slight pressure of his lips on the bare skin between my shoulder blades distracts me. My breathing grows heavier — from the pain, of course. Totally from the pain.

"What do you want to know?" he whispers against my skin.

Focus on my thoughts, I come up with a question I want the answer to. "Why do they call you… Four?"

I feel him smile against me. "Do you remember the first time you comforted me after a nightmare?" I nod. "Do you remember what we talked about?"

"You were scared… I said I would never… let anyone hurt you… again."

"And I said that was my job, as the boy." I smack his arm.

"You were a sexist child," I respond.

Tobias laughs softly. "That's what you said back then, too. Well, I believe the exact word was gender-ist." I smack him again. He smiles. "And then?"

"And then you told me…" It dawns on me. "You told me you only had four fears."

"I was right," he concludes. I don't ask him how he knows. Then he taps my arm gently. "Done." I turn around, and his fingers find the knife wound on my shoulder. I wince, and he apologizes.

"Four fears…" I want to ask him what they were, if I was in any of them, but I'm not sure I want to know the answers. So I trail off into silence, thinking of anything else. "I saw Thea this morning."

"Hmm?" he hums as he expertly undoes my poor attempt at wrapping my own shoulder and cleans the mess underneath. "How is she?"

"Sad," I reply honestly. "Alone, now." Thinking of her reminds me of Thomas, but I don't want to bring up his death right now. Or his relation to Tobias. Not tonight.

"I wanted to go see her," he says, guilt seeping into his voice. "I just…"

"I know." His fingers ghost across my cheeks, and then he rises from the bed and crosses the room. When he returns, he's holding an oversized T-shirt. I pull it over my head, noting how it smells like him — oak moss and orange blossom, earthy and floral with a hint of citrus, just how I remember it. We lay together on the bed in silence until I realize how tired I am. My head falls against his chest, eyes rolling shut, and I cling to his shirt.

"It's late," he whispers, voice loud in my tired ears. "You should get back to the dorms and get some rest before training."

"Don't wanna," I reply. "Not sleepy."

He chuckles, chest rumbling, and I groan softly. "They'll notice if you aren't there in the morning," he says. Suddenly, there's air under me, and a gentle swaying motion that makes me drowsy. Then, what seems like forever later, my back hits a hard mattress, and a symphony of snores fills my ears. I shift and yawn loudly.

"Tobias—" His finger covers my lips.

"Shhh… you'll wake the others. No one can know I'm here. Go to sleep, Bea. I'll be here when you wake up." I grumble something indistinct, and he crouches beside my cot, brushing the stray hairs out of my face. "I'm so sorry I left you, but I promise I'll never do it again. Not like that."

The last thing I remember is a gentle pressure on my forehead before I fall into a blissful dream about a boy with blue eyes like the ocean. I never hear him leave, but even in my sleepy state, I doubt that he could possibly be here when I awake without rousing suspicion.

In the morning, the first thing I see is Tobias, true to his word, banging on the metal pipes to wake us all up.