"Are you sure we're allowed in here?" Tris asked as they approached the door. "I mean, it's really late."

"That's the best time to come," Four said, a small smile on his lips. The truth was that he had been in here many times, his curiosity getting the better of him over the years. Or at least he tried to convince himself it was just curiosity; oftentimes it felt more like a compulsive need to be punished. She paused for a moment as his hands rested just underneath the eye, and then followed him inside.

She wished she was surprised that he led her to the door with the flames, the one that housed the simulation equipment, but her gut told her that it was the only thing in this room that was going to be of any real value to her. She took a deep breath and tried to get the image of the large dog attacking the girl out of her mind.

Four was silent as he pressed through the door, pulling two syringes from the cupboard as well as two vials of orange liquid. "Simulation serum," he said over his shoulder, "Lets your worst fears out."

"Shouldn't we wait for Matthew?" He could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"These aren't going to be your fears, Tris." He tried to sound as reassuring as he could. Her eyes never left his as he hooked electrodes to the both of them, her head swimming with what might possibly happen. She gave him a small nod when he picked up a syringe. He stepped forward, brushing her hair off of her neck.

She felt like her every nerve was fine-tuned to his touch. Electric was the only way she could describe it; it sent her senses into overdrive in a way she had never experienced before, a way she suddenly wanted to experience every second of her life. Her small admission to herself caused her to inhale sharply; Four assumed it was nerves. "It's okay. Just a mild pinch." He stuck himself first, just to show her.

He picked up the other syringe, letting his fingertips graze her neck lightly just before she tilted her head to rest it in his hand. She didn't feel the pain of the needle, just an insistent, instinctive desire to move their bodies closer together. Four sat down and reached out, bringing her onto the chair with him. She relaxed against his body just as the serum pulled them under.

They were standing on top of a building that towered over the city, the wind whipping all around them. Lifting her gaze overhead, Tris saw familiar blinking lights: the Hub. She had an excited smile on her face and a wild look in her eye, like she was experiencing life for the first time. It faded quickly when she saw the fear plastered on Four's face.

"Heights?" she asked, and he nodded. "Okay. Is there a stairway door for us to get down?"

"No door," he said, his voice strained. "There's a pipe on the side of the building. I've climbed down it before, but I don't know if it will hold the both of us." His eyes squeezed shut; it was the first time she had seen him vulnerable.

"Stay here," she yelled as she started to explore. She thought maybe it was her imagination, but the wind seemed to increase.

She strained to walk, the wind pressing harder with each gust against her small frame. She searched as best as she could for an exit, but to no avail. She could see the pipe he had mentioned, snaked over the edge of the roof. She made her way to it, and just before she leaned over the edge, a firm hand gripped her wrist, holding her in place. She turned to see Four, arm outstretched, panic-stricken and sweating. "You could fall." His chest was heaving, his hand trembling as he held on to her.

She loosened his grip and maneuvered her hand into his; he squeezed it so hard she thought he might break it. "It can't hurt us," she said, leaning a little further. His arm was taut, refusing to give her any leeway.

"What?"

"It's just a simulation, right? So it's not real. It can't hurt us."

"Tris…"

"Do you trust me?" She looked into his eyes, fearless, while he tried to get himself under control. He knew she was right, that it was only a simulation, but it felt real. He swallowed hard, and nodded his head.

She was gentle as she pulled him closer to her. His feet felt like cement, heavy and unwilling to move. But as she took his other hand, the weight lessened slightly, as though everything would be okay if he just let himself believe it would be.

She stepped up onto the ledge, his heart rate spiking as she wobbled. But she smiled at him and it made that warmth he felt whenever she was around increase, and he forced himself to step up with her. "On three," she said, and he nodded.

One. Two. Three.

She leapt over the edge, and he allowed himself to fall with her. His eyes were watering, but she was smiling, a small cry of joy escaping as they plummeted. He closed his eyes, and was all but certain his heart had stopped when they hit the ground hard. She let out a loud laugh and he opened his eyes to see her hair tangled and windblown, her smile lighting up her face.

"You liked that?" he asked, his breathing hard.

She laughed again as she nodded. "That was… amazing."

"Maybe you really are cut out for Dauntless," he said, a half-smile on his face.

"Maybe I am," she said, teasing. "So what happens ne―" Tris grunted as the simulation went dark, something large and hard slamming against her back.

"Four," she said, sounding strangled as they were crammed together in a small space. She stood still, listening to Four's rapid breathing as the space became even tighter.

"Shit," he whispered. "This was a bad idea."

"It's fine," she lied. While she wasn't claustrophobic, it wasn't an ideal situation being trapped in close quarters in total darkness. "What happens now?"

"We wait it out."

She hated the way he sounded; there was a mixture of panic and anguish in his tone. She was quiet as she tried to think of a faster way out. "How does this differ from the aptitude tests?" she asked.

"You have to face your fear for it to register and move on, or you have to slow your breathing and your heart rate."

"Oh." She had no idea how to help him face this particular fear, other than to stay put and let time pass.

Her arms were beginning to ache being pressed against him at an odd angle, not to mention his elbow was digging into her side. "Here," she said. "Let's at least try and make this more comfortable." She wiggled until one arm was free; she was able to wrap it around Four's lower back where there was some space. She did the same with the other arm, turning herself flush against him. The box shrank slightly to take up the space.

"Well, that backfired," she chuckled. "Put your arms around me."

"What?" Four wasn't sure he could, no matter how badly he wanted to accept her invitation.

"Just try. It will help, I think, if you have something to rest on, too."

He leaned as far to one side as he could, and managed to get an arm free. He did the same thing in the other direction, and gratefully wrapped his arms around Tris's shoulders. She turned her head sideways, resting it on his chest. Quite some time passed, the two of them wrapped together as one. His heartbeat never let up and hers wasn't far behind; this was the first time their bodies were touching without vests or armor or anything else between them. She had never been this close to a boy before, but her feelings were unmistakable; she didn't want to know what it was like to be in anyone else's arms. She felt her own heart beat faster, almost in synch with Four's panicked rhythm.

"Four, is there anything I can do?" She felt him shake his head against hers. "Well, there has to be something that will speed this up."

"You can make it worse."

She didn't like the sound of that. "How can you make this worse?"

"Make the box even smaller. It registers as bravery, moves it along." His words were short, his breath shorter. "There might be another way to make it better," he mumbled.

She wasn't sure why, but the way he said it made her blush. She angled her head up, hoping to see something in the utter darkness. "Tell me," she whispered, her breath triggering a trail of goosebumps along his skin.

She felt him lean down, instinctively leaning up in return, and tentatively their lips met. It was innocent at first, as they tested out how they fit together with a few chaste kisses. Tris felt the box shrink again as Four leaned down into her, somehow pulling her even closer, his lips more insistent. She kissed him back with equal fervor, their predicament fading from her thoughts as his fingers trailed along her neck then into her hair, her own hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. His lips were warm, and softer than she thought they would be as they moved against hers.

When the box fell away, they held on for just a moment longer, neither one wanting the moment to end. He found himself needing to pull some of her strength into him for his next fear ― there was no turning back now. Her fingers pressed into his back; the best moment of his life was slowly being consumed by guilt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She pulled away, confusion on her face. "Why? I wanted that, too."

He shook his head. "I should have said something sooner."

His mood was completely different now. Her eyebrows scrunched as she watched his face pale. The simulation shifted, and suddenly they were standing in the middle of the factionless sector. A part of her wanted to close her eyes, to not see anything that had to do with the hardships he faced as a child, but her curiosity won out as a woman approached them, one that she thought looked familiar.

"I promise it will be better here. You'll see," the woman said as she opened her arms. Tris watched as Four walked straight into her embrace without hesitation. She didn't interrupt, but began to get nervous as dark clouds rolled in and the temperature drastically dropped, a light flurry beginning to fall all around them.

"Mom?" Four said, as he pulled away from her. She was thin now, frail. Her clothes were dirty, tattered, and she trembled violently. Tris felt a stinging in her eyes as his mother dropped to the ground, unconscious. "Mom!" he shouted, shaking her. "Please. Please wake up!"

The snow came down harder, piling around their bodies as Four cradled his mother's limp form. Tris turned her head, unable to look at them anymore. Their reflections in a window caught her eye: it wasn't Four she saw on his knees shaking his mother, it was a scared little boy, and her heart ached for him. She felt a hot tear on her cheek as she realized that this is how he must see it: that it isn't him in this fear, but rather his childhood self. She waited for the Bureau to swoop in and rescue the ailing mother and her son, but for some reason the simulation wasn't continuing beyond this heartbreaking moment. Perhaps Four himself was the reason they couldn't move forward. She wiped her eyes and knelt down next to him.

"It's not real," she whispered, putting her arms around him. He was shivering. "Four, look at me." His eyes were red as he turned to look at her. She took his face in her hands. "You have to let her go now. You have to let it move on."

"I know it's not real." His voice was small and unbearably sad. "It's just that this is the only time I get to see her and hold her, and it's never long enough."

Tris pulled his face to hers, resting her forehead against his. She hated seeing him hurting. Hated watching what was probably one of the worst days of his life unfold in front of her. She reached a hand down and found his arm, pulling it away from his mother and around her instead. His other arm followed, and they knelt there, wrapped up in each other for the second time. His face was buried in her neck, his warm breath making her question everything she had ever known. She closed her eyes, reveling in every last point of contact. Suddenly, he was gone; it took her a moment to realize that Four didn't leave her embrace, he had been ripped out of it.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" a booming voice rang out. She was frozen in place as she stared up at Marcus Eaton, his hand firmly gripped around Four's arm. But instead of the strong, confident man who made her feel safe and protected at the Bureau, this was a terrified version of him, one that was cowering in Marcus's grip.

"Marcus, stop." Tris turned her head to see Four's mom, alive and healthy.

"Stay out of this, Evelyn." Tris's eyes went wide as she looked between the three of them: Marcus's deep blue eyes, Evelyn's hooked nose and tan skin ― all the same features that were present on Four. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"No." Evelyn's voice was defiant, and Marcus rounded on her, yanking Four and shoving him at his mother. "This has nothing to do with him."

"Oh, this has everything to do with our son. I will not have him grow up to be like you." The hateful words spewed out of him like poison. Marcus started removing his belt, while Four stared on, frozen in place. "It's for his own good. You will learn to obey me, Tobias, so help me God."

Four winced as Marcus's belt came down on his back. He let out a loud grunt, his face contorting in pain as it happened again. Tris stood, anger rising up in her like she had never felt before. She had always admired Marcus, looked up to him even, but to see him in front of her now changed everything.

"Stop!" Tris yelled out, but nothing happened. Evelyn was pleading with Marcus, while Four knelt down on his hands and knees. Tris thrust herself forward to try and cover Four, the belt coming down across her own back. She closed her eyes as she dropped to the ground, the pain unlike anything she had ever felt in her life.

"Stop it, Marcus!" Evelyn shouted. Tris maneuvered onto her own hands and knees, watching in horror as the scene unfolded before her. Evelyn was screaming at Marcus while Four cowered between them. His hands covered his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, the belt snapping across his back again.

Tris didn't know what to say or do when Marcus dropped the belt, lashing out at Evelyn instead with his bare fists. The sound of flesh on flesh sent a jolt through her body, Evelyn's screams ringing out in the air as Marcus hit her again and again and again.

"Four!" Tris yelled, but he had curled himself up into a trembling ball. Marcus shoved Evelyn to the ground, where she lay between the two of them, her face swollen and bloody. She gasped and reached a shaking hand out; Marcus took it. Tris's breaths slowed as she watched them look at each other. Marcus was careful as he knelt down next to her, and placed a hand on her cheek.

"Marcus." Evelyn voice was strained and she coughed, spurting blood onto his face. He wiped it on his sleeve, his face turning red as if she had somehow done it on purpose to disrespect him. He made a fist and pulled back, landing blow after blow to her head and torso. Tris finally stood, rushing to pull Marcus off of Evelyn.

"No!" she screamed. Four opened his eyes to see the two people he cared about the most struggling against the one he hated with every fiber of his being. His mother tried weakly to fend Marcus off while Tris tugged desperately on his arm, even going so far as to hit him on his back.

"Four, do something! Stop it, please!" He snapped out of his fear-induced daze, finally able to process the sounds, the pain, the panic on Tris's face. He let out a scream as he thrust himself forward into his father's side and landed hard on the ground, suddenly awake and aware in the room with the simulation equipment, still reclined in the chair with Tris.

Tris was breathing heavily, her back still stinging from the belt. She watched him as he sat up behind her and scrambled to his feet. She could see the tension in Four's posture, his hands opening and balling into fists as he paced back and forth, breathing just as hard as she was. He ripped the electrodes off his head and flung them.

"Four?" she whispered. Tris had not anticipated that she would be going through all that ― that he had gone through all of that. She didn't even know where to start, but she wanted to make sure he was okay first. "T-Tobias?"

It sounded odd, saying his name after so many years. She remembered going to his and Evelyn's funeral, the two of them having been found beaten to death in the factionless sector. It was a scandal that had rocked the city for years: first a leader's wife and child up and left, and then Abnegation held their funeral when the bodies were discovered, defying factional law. Tris had looked up to Marcus then, thinking he was doing the right thing even though his family was no longer a part of Abnegation. She had never known what had driven them away in the first place, and wished now that she could take it all back.

"Tobias is dead," he whispered. He left her there, still sitting in the chair.

It took her a moment to process, her eyes brimming with tears, but she ripped her electrodes off and charged after him. She didn't say a word as she struggled to keep up, Four seeming to not know where he was going as he turned down hallway after hallway, going in circles. Eventually he shoved the doors to Amity open, and stalked out into the cooler night air.

"God damn it!" he screamed out into the night, frustrated with his inability to act even when it wasn't real. She pulled back, wondering if maybe it was better to leave him alone; after all, she had asked the same of him once. She watched as he walked along the fence, dropping to his knees when he was far away. She took off towards him at a run.

There was nothing but darkness beyond the fence, the sounds of her breathing the only thing that let him know he wasn't alone. "Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked softly. When he didn't answer, she sat down next to him. "Please talk to me. You're the only thing I have here, the only thing that even resembles normalcy. I don't want to lose that."

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I wanted to. I tried to. But do you have any idea how ludicrous it sounds out loud? I mean, would you have believed me? Hell, there are people here who still find it hard to believe and they had evidence right in front of them."

She shook her head slightly, understanding his point. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Maybe isn't good enough." He hung his head.

She didn't know what to say or how to react, so she simply started talking, hoping it would help. "I remember going to the funeral. I was nine. I cried that night, in my room. I was so worried that you had been in pain or that you had suffered. You were just a kid."

Four closed his eyes and sat down next to her. "I saw you at the funeral — I was watching it on the screens. You were the only person who looked like you cared. It's why I…" He was having a hard time finding the right words as the fear and anger continued to drain out of him.

"What?" Her voice was soft, caring.

"It's why I watched you sometimes. Everyone else went back to their normal lives like it didn't happen, like we didn't even matter. But not you. You were so different, and I never understood how no one ever saw it. I saw you go back to the cemetery later that week. Why?" He lifted his head and stared directly into her eyes, hungry for an answer to the question he had asked himself so many times over the years.

Tris took a deep breath. She had never given that day a second thought, but she knew exactly why she had gone back. "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I didn't try to be your friend, and that you didn't get a chance to grow up."

He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her, and she hugged him fiercely. It had been a long time since he felt cared for, valued as a whole person instead of just for the skills he could offer. Tris didn't want anything from him except his time and his company. He hadn't even gotten that level of respect from his own parents.

"There's something else," he said, pulling away from her and taking a deep breath. "Natalie was the one who helped us leave Marcus."

Her mouth fell open. "My mom?"

Four nodded. "My mother confided in yours. Together they came up with the plan, and in the middle of the night we snuck out. Your mom was there, with food and clothes and a map to a building that was deemed uninhabitable, but that was still safe on the ground floor. It's where we stayed until... until she got sick and the Bureau came for us. Natalie would leave us supplies somewhere, and my mother would retrieve them." He paused for a moment, letting out a loud breath. "I see that same goodness in you too, Tris. No matter what happens here, I know you will always do what's right. It's in your DNA."

"Why? Because my genes say so? Four that is not―"

"No. Because your mother is good. And so is your father."

"Just because they are good doesn't mean that I am."

"Doesn't it, though? You saw me with Briggs. That wasn't even the first time I've hit him, Tris. I wanted to kill him. And over what? Words? I feel like I have no control over it sometimes, that it's inevitable that I'm going to lash out one day, just like him. Hell, it's in my genes, according to everyone here." He spat those last words out, hating that he let himself believe it.

He ran his hands through his hair and over his face. He hated this part of himself, the insecure, scared child that still existed in his head; the one that taunted him with his worthlessness. The one that gave him nightmares and convinced him that he wasn't going to be any better than Marcus, that he was destined to become just like him.

"Four―"

"I pulled you out. Me, not David. I pushed him to look at your footage again, and now all of this is because of me. I mean, what the hell was I thinking? I couldn't protect you in the Fringe. And then there's my mother and Green, I certainly couldn't keep them safe. Christ, I can't even protect you when it's not real."

Four blamed himself for far too much, and Tris had no idea how to respond to any of it. She watched him for a moment, muttering under his breath and running his hands through his hair. If she knew only one thing, it was that he was not the monster he was making himself out to be.

"Did you kill him?" she asked. His head snapped to hers. "Briggs. Did you kill him?"

"No."

"And why is that? Is it because of your genes, or is it because you're a decent human being with a moral compass? You knew he deserved a punch or two, but you also knew that he didn't deserve to die. You stopped yourself, Four. You made the right choice, nobody else. I know you think you're damaged, but I already told you that I don't believe that. I don't even know if I believe any of this genetics nonsense."

Tris pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, staring off into the night. She wondered again if there was more than what they were being told, more to what David was asking from her. It felt like it was too easy: that they were just going to take her blood, run a few tests, and everything would get better. She looked over at Four, who looked relieved to have finally gotten things off of his chest. She had to suppress her urge to shake him, to ask him what he had been thinking taking her into his fears like that, but she decided that they had been through enough for one evening. And if she was really being honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was actually elated that he had opened himself up to her, despite how traumatic the experience had been for them both. Their bond was growing undeniably stronger.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "And you're right. Even if I would have believed you, I could have never fully understood." She reached out and ran her hand down his back; he shuddered under her touch. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," he lied. It would always sting, the pain of what he endured forever burned in his memory. "What about you? Are you okay?" His face fell, as though he had just remembered that she had been there, too.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she said, holding up her hands as he scooted closer to her, turning her slightly. He rubbed his hand up and down her back; it was a welcome feeling.

"Four fears," she said with a half-smile. "And Four for a name. Clever."

"You can thank Amar for that one. He says it's a low number, even by Dauntless standards."

She looked over her shoulder. "Well, then, maybe you were cut out for Dauntless, too." She gave a small laugh, leaning back against him as he put his arm around her shoulder.

"You can call me Tobias, when it's just you and me," he whispered in her ear. "I miss hearing it sometimes."

"Okay," she whispered back. They sat there together in the silence and the dark until the sky began to turn pink.