AN: Oh thank so much for the reviews - hope this scratches the itch... Warning for anyone who's already read this chapter and may be looking at it again - I changed the ending drastically!

Tobias.

The darkness presses around me like a shroud, heavy and warm. The sound of the whispering voice is a tiny needle that jabs at me, prickling under my leaden eyelids. I struggle to hear it, and then just sink gratefully back into the deep embrace of sleep.

Tobias, the voice says again, another jab, a little firmer this time. I struggle to pull myself out of the silence that surrounds me, grabbing at me like a tar pit, and then start to slip back in.

It's time to wake up now.

So tired, I think, as I sink down and am gone.

Tobias. The voice dredges me up from the depths again. I don't know how long it's been since I heard that voice, but I know I've been asleep.

Leave me alone, I think, I'm tired.

I know you're tired. But you've been asleep for a long time. You need to wake up. Open your eyes.

The heavy warmth starts to pull me under again, and I relax into the soft darkness.

Wake up! The voice shouts now, slicing through the comforting void around me.You must wake up now!

I gasp and white light blinds me as I wrench my eyes open, groaning.

"Tobias!" I hear someone say. "It's working! He's coming back! Tobias, can you hear me?"

I groan again. I want to point out that of course I can hear her because she is shouting right in my ear, but I can't seem to make my voice work. I close my eyes and open them again, but still can only see dark blobs and glaring white light.

"Here, put these drops in his eyes. It will help him see."

I blink furiously as liquid is dribbled into my eyes and leaks down my face, the drops tickling my nose and cheeks. I want to wipe them away, but can't seem to lift my hand.

"Tell Tris," I hear a voice say urgently. "Disconnect her and get her over here."

"She's out cold."

Someone swears.

"Tobias," I can see a shape leaning over me now. "Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

"Sweetheart?" I grumble, and find to my relief that the words actually come out this time, though my voice is sandpaper rough.

I hear a gulping sort of laugh. "Forgive me," and I realize now that it is Evelyn, "if I had known an endearment was all it took to bring you around, I would have been calling you pet names for days."

She's still making that odd gulping sound, and as I continue blinking, I'm starting to see her face.

"Crying?" I croak in disbelief. "You're crying? I didn't think you knew how."

She chokes out a little laugh and wipes her face with the back of her hand. "Now you're really starting to sound alive. Or at least more like yourself." I feel her hand on my face.

"That bad?" I ask, squinting at her.

"Yes," she says simply. "You almost died."

I try to move and grimace at the pain that radiates in all directions, screwing my eyes shut. "Maybe that would have been better."

"Don't say that," she whispers.

I clear my throat and open my eyes again. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" she asks cautiously.

I start to shake my head, but a stabbing pain balloons behind my eyes, and I freeze. "No," I say instead.

"You went to Amity, to capture Johanna."

"Did we get her?"

"Yes and no," Evelyn says tightly. "We can talk about that later. Maybe you should rest."

"They won't let me."

"Who won't let you?" Evelyn runs a hand over my forehead.

"The voices," I complain.

"Oh," she says, "don't worry about that. It should be okay now."

Sure enough, when I close my eyes, the voice ripples through my mind.

It's okay, Tobias, it says gently. You can sleep now.

As I relax back into the darkness, I love you echoes across my mind, as light as vapor.

The next time I wake up is even more unpleasant. My mouth feels as though it has been completely drained of moisture, and each heartbeat pulsates with pain.

"Nyagh," I grunt incoherently, and I hear a beeping noise in the background.

"Tobias?" Someone says. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to clear the sandy feeling away. Someone is rustling busily around me, and I peer up at her.

"Lou?"

"Yes," she purses her lips, sounding pleased, as she puts her fingers gently on my wrist.

"Where am I?"

"Amity," she answers absently, flashing a tiny light into my eyes and then holding a cup up to my lips.

"What am I doing here?" I ask her, after swallowing the cool, sweet liquid. "And for that matter, what are you doing here?"

She looks up at me. "Well, we couldn't very well move you, now could we? You took a bullet to the torso, my friend. An exploding bullet, no less. We've been picking shrapnel out of you for weeks."

"Don't sugar coat it or anything," I huff.

"You're just lucky you hit him before he could hit you - threw him off a little."

"I thought he got off the first shot," I close my eyes.

"He did," Lou says grimly. "He wasn't aiming that one at you."

I groan as the memory comes back to me. "Was anyone else killed?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. We lost five people. Johanna was also seriously wounded, and Christopher was killed. Turns out he was her son - Glory's twin."

"What...how...What happened?"

"Christopher was under orders to kill Johanna if anyone ever came for her. I think because she was expecting it to be someone from outside. Anyway, after he shot you and Jasper, he tried to kill her, and he basically succeeded. She's brain dead. We also lost a few other people at Silo Two, which was booby trapped."

I close my eyes more tightly and shake my head slowly from side to side.

"It's a lot to take in," she sympathizes, squeezing my shoulder. "But for what it's worth, you're going to be okay, for the most part. I'm a little worried about nerve damage to your left arm, but it will be awhile before we can be sure about that." She pauses. "There's someone here who wants to see you."

I open my eyes.

"Tris," I try to smile, and I think the corners of my mouth do lift slightly. "You're okay?"

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me, even as she picks up my hand and laces her fingers through mine.

"I'm not the one who got shot."

"Not this time," I acknowledge. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she says in confusion. "Unless you wanted to get shot?"

I shake my head. "Of course not. It's just, one more person for you. You know," I struggle awkwardly, and see she understands. Her eyes are fluttering, and her mouth is trembling.

"I knew," she whispers. "I knew it was a bad idea for us to separate like that. Never again, okay? From now on, we always stick together, no matter what the mission is."

I start to say that if she'd been with me, she might be dead now, but then I think better of it. "Okay," I agree instead, dropping a kiss into her palm. She gasps a little, and glances over at Lou.

"Is it okay if I lie down with him for awhile?"

"Sure," Lou says softly. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Tris climbs into the bed and curls up next to me, draping one arm around my waist.

"Don't you ever do that again," she whispers, kissing my chin.

"I'll try not to," I chuckle. "Can't say I enjoyed it." I look down at her. "Tris, what happened with Uriah?"

She flushes and looks away. "I am so, so sorry about that," she stutters, and my heart sinks. So, something did happen between them, after all.

"It's all my fault," she continues. I'm on the verge of stopping her, because I don't think I can hear this right now, when she looks back up at me, those clear, silvery eyes lancing right into me.

"I thought I had removed the trigger," she says, stroking my chin, her fingers making a rasping noise against the stubble. "But I failed. He feels terrible that he didn't stop Christopher from shooting you or helping you when you fell, but it's pretty hard to fight a compulsion like that. They used a lot of drugs on him, and it was pretty deeply buried. In fact, it's a miracle he was able to beat it at all."

"He...he beat it?" I say, making a quick adjustment.

"Yes. He was the one who killed Christopher out in the courtyard when he started shooting at the truck."

"Is Inez okay?"

"Yeah - minor wound. She's the world's worst convalescent, but other than that, she's fine. She lost a lot of her team, though, and she's really worried about you. It would be touching if she weren't such a pain in the neck about it."

I chuckle and then wince at the uncomfortable pulling sensation in my chest.

"Can't even laugh," I grumble.

"Well," Tris says reasonably, "at least that's no great sacrifice for you."

"Ha ha."

She sighs contentedly and burrows a little more into my side.

"I love you," she says gravely. "You do know that, don't you?"

"I do," I smile crookedly at her, "but it's nice to hear you say it when neither one of us is in a coma."

She laughs softly.

"When do we go?" I ask, closing my eyes.

"As soon as you're back on your feet," she whispers, threading her fingers into my hair. "I'll tell Cara to come and debrief you about what she found on the computer when you're feeling a little better."

"Is it good news?" I mumble.

"Yes," she says soothingly, but her voice lilts up at the end of the word, as though in question. But I fall back asleep before I can ask her about it.

It turns out I have to wait a couple of days to hear from Cara. She's busy relocating the Divergent back to Dauntless, now that the Council deems it safe. Evelyn wanted them at Freedom, where most of the other Divergent are housed, but Cara refused. From what Tris tells me, anyone in the room for that battle of wills was collateral damage.

"Evelyn still isn't speaking to Rat," Tris chuckles. "She keeps referring to him as 'that Dauntless idiot.'"

"They're really close aren't they?" I ask her, and her expression folds up like a fan.

"You'll have to ask them that," is all she will say.

As if the possibility that my mother and Rat are a couple weren't bad enough, Marcus insists on visiting me.

"I would like to see my son alone," Marcus scowls at Tris, who hovers on the other side of the bed.

"Not a chance," she responds coolly, gripping my hand tightly.

Marcus stares at me, hoping I'll tell her to go, but I don't. I just look back at him.

"Fine," he grinds out, pulling up a chair. "I just wanted to see for myself that you're alive," he flicks a glance up at Tris, "and I wanted to apologize."

I hold my face utterly still and continue meeting his eyes. "For what?"

"I feel responsible - I confided some of our secrets in both Jeanine and Johanna."

"I don't think that's what you need to apologize for," Tris interrupts softly, and Marcus shoots her a hard look.

"I always suspected there was something not right about Johanna," he continues, "but she was my ally when I needed one, and I put aside my suspicions. And I knew Jeanine was friendly with her - I should have never told her about Amanda Ritter."

I shrug. "We all assume that was an honest mistake," I say flatly. "You weren't responsible for the choices they made, were you?" I stress the word "they."

Marcus watches me for a few, very long seconds. "I want to come with you when you go outside the wall," he finally says.

"No," I answer calmly.

"I have to come with you!" he exclaims, his voice rising. I know that tone, and I have to work very hard not to flinch, but my body betrays me with a shudder. He notices and falls silent abruptly.

"No," I say again.

"I'm the strongest Divergent you have," he wheedles now, "you can't do it without me, Tobias. You need my help."

I can feel Tris straining, and I give her hand a squeeze to signal her to let me handle him.

"And I'm your father," he finishes, trying to sound stern.

"I think you lost the right to call yourself that a long time ago." My chuckle is a hollow rattle in my throat. "Right around the time you pushed me down the stairs - remember that? I think I was, what, 12 that time? Yeah, to me, that's when you stopped being my father. You stopped being someone I cared about at all when you locked me in the closet for a whole week. Remember that? All those nice Abnegation women coming by with their soups and bread, to help me get well? At least you let me have the bread. Good times." I think Tris is going to cut off the circulation in my hand is she holds me any tighter, and I flex my fingers warningly against the pressure.

Marcus looks away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says under his breath.

"Sure you do," I answer coldly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, even if you can't admit it to me. But I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you I will never go anywhere with you again."

"I have to know," Marcus whispers, facing me now. "I have to know why we're here. Please." Even someone as good at dissembling as he is can't fake desperation that well.

"Well," I say breezily, "you'll be the first to know. When we get back."

"Now go away," Tris adds.

Marcus lowers his head and glares at her, and I feel that dormant fear erupt, because I know with total certainty that he is about to lash out, and Tris is going to be his target.

"Don't you dare," Evelyn shouts from the doorway. Tris gasps, and I stare, open-mouthed. Evelyn has a gun trained on Marcus's head. "One move in her direction, and you're a dead man," she hisses. Her face is calm and her hands steady, but hatred ripples through her words.

"Don't be a fool, Evelyn," he growls.

"I stopped being a fool the day I walked out on you," she answers levelly. "You heard him - he doesn't want to see you and you aren't going with him, and I won't let you hurt him ever again. Get out."

My parents stare at each other over the barrel of the gun, and I hold my breath. I have no idea what's going to happen here. Then something does happen, and it's not what I expect.

Marcus starts to cry.

At first, it's just tears welling up, but then they cascade steadily down his face. He buries his head in his hands and starts to heave great, wracking sobs. I look over at Evelyn, and she looks back at me, her surprise quickly shifting to disgust.

"You're pathetic," she spits out. "Get a grip on yourself and just get out of here."

Marcus hauls himself up out of the chair he was sitting in and shuffles toward the door, head hanging down, his breath continuing to hitch in his throat. Evelyn has stepped into the room, keeping her distance from him, never lowering the weapon. He pauses in the doorway, but doesn't turn around.

"I loved you both," he says in a low voice. "I still do. I know you don't believe that, but it's true." He stands there for a moment, and then starts talking again, in a low monotone, as though it's not really him talking. As though he's standing back and watching, with a clinical eye, as this man rambles tonelessly on. "I can't explain it, except to say I can't help it. I kept telling myself I could if I wanted to, that I could make it stop whenever I wanted to." He lifts his head, but still doesn't look back at us. "Sometimes," his whisper is hoarse, "I even convinced myself that you deserved it or it wasn't such a big deal." He pauses, gripping the doorframe, and then he's gone.

Evelyn stands there frozen, the gun still pointed at the empty doorway. Tris lets go of my hand, giving me a little nod, and slowly approaches Evelyn.

"Evelyn?" she says softly. "It's okay now. He's gone. You made him leave. I don't think he'll be coming back ever again," and much to my astonishment, Tris puts her arms around my mother. The gun clatters to the floor. They stand there for a few minutes, only breaking the embrace when I clear my throat.

Evelyn looks over her shoulder at me with a wry twist to her lips. "I think I'm getting along with your girlfriend better," she finally says.

I hold out a hand, which she takes, sitting down on my bed. Tris sits down next to her. We all just stay there for awhile, holding on to each other, not saying anything.

The next day, Marcus is gone. Nobody knows where he went.

I have a bad feeling about it.