Author's note: Thanks so much for the follows, favorites and reviews! It makes this whole experience way more worthwhile. This chapter is a bit longer than usual. I know not much has been happening so far, but I hope to get more to the plot soon. I hope it's not getting boring yet. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Four's POV

I wake up with a start. For a second I am confused, but the sterile environment of the hospital quickly reminds me of where I am. I stand up from my chair and rush to the window. Tris lies there just as she has since they first placed her in there. I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath. It has become a pastime of mine, it comforts me. I know that this obsession I'm creating is senseless, dangerous even, but I can't help myself. It's like her life has somehow become tethered to my own – where she goes, so I go. I sigh. Thoughts like that aren't helping.

I have been here in front of her room for the past 40 hours. Add to that the six I spent in front of the operating room and that almost makes two days. I've only left to go to a nearby restroom. People have come and gone: Christina, Caleb, Matthew, Zeke, Amar and George. Other people I don't know. They've spoken to me. I can't remember anything anyone said. I remember giving vague replies or grunts for answers, or simply ignoring them. The nurses have brought me food and drinks; the only thing I've had is a few cups of water. At some point, Amar brought me a chair, which I finally accepted after some insistence on his part. But now I see I shouldn't have. It's the third time I've fallen asleep while sitting down. If something happens and I am asleep…

Of the many people who have been trying to get my attention lately, only the doctors have been successful. Any doctor I see I hunt down and grill with questions. They've been surprisingly patient and forthcoming with me, and it's been utterly unsatisfying nonetheless – all they can really say is that they don't know. But I can tell they're happy about her progress. She's been steady this entire time, no crashes, no sudden drops in heart rate or blood pressure. They say it seems she is getting stronger. We're passing the critical period where her life hangs in the balance. Now it's all about the coma. Will she wake up?

I raise my hand to my forehead, trying to soothe my headache by massaging my temples. It's been throbbing for a while now. Somehow I have to make it through this. I have to remain awake long enough to make sure… Make sure… Of what?

I realize that the lack of sleep is taking its toll. My mind is foggy and dim. The only clear thought I have is that I have to stay here. Close to Tris. It's all I have.

I watch her breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"This is ridiculous," a deep voice says right next to me. I jump. I must have somehow fallen asleep while standing! It was the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, that must have made me fall asleep, I think. I scowl, angry at myself for falling asleep again, and turn towards the owner of the voice. It's Dr. Cooke. He's a neurologist and will be the main physician in charge of Tris now that the immediate life danger is over. He's apparently something of a coma expert and an avid opponent of the whole GD/GP movement. "Mr. Eaton, you're falling asleep standing. We've been trying for days to get you away from this room, this has gone too far."

So far I've liked Dr. Cooke. I hope he hasn't come here to change my mind about that. I try to clear my thoughts so I can reason with him, but he doesn't give me a chance.

"Look, normally you wouldn't even be allowed to be here. Because of the nature of the case and the fact that most of these rooms are empty, we've made an exception for you. We didn't realize we would be doing so at your own personal cost. You haven't eaten once, you've only been drinking enough so as not to pass out, and" he sniffed the air in front of me, "you stink. Besides which, you have been here for nearly two days without break."

I want to protest that that's not true, I have left a few times to go to the bathroom, and even that felt like hell and seemed an eternity, but I seem to be having a hard time making my mouth obey me. Again, Dr. Cooke is faster. "Mr. Eaton, you aren't going to like this, but you'll thank me in the end. I think we need to make a deal, you and I."

All I can do is stare at him. A deal?

"Ok, so here's the deal. You have to" he raises his index finger to show this is his first demand, "eat. Three times a day. Meals will be brought to you by the nurses, but you have to eat them and you have to drink enough." He raises his middle finger to join the first finger. "You have go for a walk once a day outside of this hospital. Do it alone, do it with your friends, during the day, at night, I don't care. But get some fresh air and some movement." A third finger goes up. "You have to sleep. Right now. I want you to find a bed somewhere and sleep for at least six hours. After that, you are to sleep at least six hours every day. No exceptions." I continue staring at him. He can't be serious. Then he adds another finger, "And you have to take a shower. Every day. Beginning right now, do that even before you go to sleep. The smell of you might be harmful to her health and it certainly is harmful to all of us who have to pass by you all the time."

I think I might actually laugh. Does he really think this is happening?

I finally manage to formulate a clear thought. "You said a deal," I say. "What do I get from this?"

"Other than the relief of remaining alive to actually witness your girlfriend possibly getting better?" he asks in an exasperated tone. "You get to stay here and watch Miss Prior."

I narrow my eyes. "That's what I've been doing all along."

Dr. Cooke smiles. "Yes. And if you don't comply with these very simple demands, you won't be allowed to remain here anymore. We will sedate you and remove you by force if need be, Mr. Eaton. But nobody wants that, so just do as I ask. Soon you'll see how it will actually make you feel better."

I'm incredulous. This calm, gentle man has just thoroughly defeated my attempts and I'm so tired I can't even think clearly enough to argue with him. He seems to notice my resignation because he rubs his hands together and calls a nurse. Before she arrives, I have another clear thought.

"I want to stay here." Dr. Cooke snorts in annoyance. "No," I say quickly. "I mean, to sleep. And shower. There must be beds and showers somewhere in the hospital." He eyes me critically and then nods.

The nurse arrives shortly and he tells her 'Our friend is going to take a shower and then sleep. I promised him we would find him a place to stay in the hospital, would you be so kind and help him?" The nurse looks at me. She too seems exasperated and relieved that I'm finally going somewhere else. "I would be very happy to do so. Come with me, Mr. Eaton." Dr. Cooke smiles pleasantly at me as I am ushered away. I can't decide whether I hate him or not.

The nurse talks incessantly as she shows me the way to a bathroom with showers and to an adjacent storage / sleeping room. It's a small, dark room lined with boxes with medical equipment on the one side and a bunk bed on the other. She tells me she will prepare my bed while I shower. "No one ever comes in here so you should be fine sleeping here every night until your friend gets better." My heart gushes with affection for this chatty woman when she says that. She, at least, seems to believe Tris will get better.

I am returning to the bathroom when I notice that I have no fresh clothes to put on. I shrug. Dr. Cooke never said anything about changing clothes. Luckily the nurse thought to bring me a towel. I go inside and take a shower. The effect of the cool water on my head is immediate: I already feel better, my thoughts clearer, my headache less intense. Maybe Dr. Cooke is right about that at least.

I get out of the shower and dry myself off, then hear a soft cough coming from behind me. It's Zeke, standing there grinning at me. At his feet lies a black duffle bag. It looks full. "Going somewhere?" I ask as I finish drying myself.

Zeke's eyebrows rise in mock surprise. "Four? Did you just… speak to me? Did you just… was that a joke?" He pretends to be shocked.

I roll my eyes. "What's with the bag?"

"This," he says and pushes the bag towards me with his foot, "is a token of my love for you. And of this hospital's love for you."

I frown. What? Zeke just keeps grinning at me. I look at the bag and then open it. It's stuffed with my clothes. I don't know why, but the gesture touches me. "Zeke, this is…"

"Your clothes. I know."

I look up at him and then pull him into an embrace. "Thanks, man." He hugs me back for a moment, then pushes me away, "Man, you're not wearing anything!" I laugh. I don't remember when I last laughed. Maybe Dr. Cooke is on to something. I quickly put on some clothes and throw my dirty ones in a plastic bag Zeke has also provided me with. I rumple my nose at the clothes. I did stink.

Zeke walks me to my new room and then puts his arm around my shoulder and says, "Sweet dreams, darling." I try to punch him but he blocks me easily, I'm so weak.

"Wait till I've gotten some sleep, then we'll see how this goes." Zeke just yawns and starts walking away. I grin at him and then open the door. It was good to joke around again. I had been shutting everyone out all this time, but how was that helping Tris? I lay down in my bed and am suddenly overwhelmed by grief. I don't know how I'm going to survive these next few days and weeks. This is worse than anything we've ever been through because I'm so helpless. There's no enemy to fight. I promised myself I would protect her, but how can I protect her from this?

I fall asleep with the image of Tris's face in my mind.

(page break)

I awake suddenly. I was having a nightmare. In it, I knew someone was trying to kill Tris but the killer's face kept changing every few seconds. We ran and ran but we were constantly surrounded by people, never knowing who it could be. Soon I started killing every person that got near us. I shudder.

I yawn and stretch as I try to banish the dream from my mind. Suddenly I remember where I am and jump out of the bed. Tris!

I run to her room. She lies there, still attached to the machines, still breathing gently. She looks unchanged. I wonder how long I've slept. Just then a nurse comes. "Mr. Eaton! Back so soon!" It's the same nurse from last night.

"How long have I have been gone?" I ask.

She looks at her watch. "I'd say about eight hours."

"Eight hours?! Did…" I look back at Tris. "Did anything happen?"

The nurse smiles at me. "No. She's been just like that. Almost like she's sleeping." She looks fondly at Tris. Almost, I think. "My shift is just ending," she goes on, "but I'll get you some breakfast." She's gone before I can answer and back very soon.

The breakfast consists of two white rolls with butter and a clear broth. I'm surprised by this, but I take it without comment. I sit down in my chair and eat. The nurse goes in to check on Tris one last time. She says good-bye to me with a smile and leaves. She reminds me of the Amity.

After a few bites of the roll and some broth I understand why I've been given this breakfast. Not eating for so long has made my stomach unaccustomed to food. I can hear my stomach rumbling. I eat everything though and actually wish there were more when it's gone.

My morning is uneventful. I sit. I stand. I pace. I sit again. I think of Tris, of us, of all that's happened. We were supposed be getting a chance at being together under more normal conditions. Our relationship started the day before all of this began, it can't be that it ends the day it's all over. I wonder what we would be like under different circumstances. I remember how her eyes light up when she's afraid, how she suddenly seems so awake. I wish so much I could see her like that now.

At midday I am brought another meal. Another white roll, plain chicken breast, peas. Abnegation food. This kind of food used to make me feel uncomfortable, but now it makes me think of Tris and the orderly rows of grey houses, the quiet, calm feel of Abnegation. The part of Abnegation I never really got to experience but that somehow seems such an integral part of Tris. I eat slowly, savoring my plain meal.

After lunch visitors start coming. Christina comes with Zeke and Cara. I realize how the girls seem uncomfortable around me, like they don't know how to act. I must have really been a jerk the past few days. But Zeke is relaxed and funny, he slowly gets me to come out of my shell. Soon, it feels more normal to speak to people again. I realize I'm not betraying Tris by letting myself enjoy other people's company. Caleb joins me for the whole afternoon. We don't speak, he just a pulls up a chair and sits next to me and stares at her. Matthew joins us shortly, as does Cara. The doctors give us an update around 5 in the evening. After they're finished, Dr. Cooke approaches me.

"So, Mr. Eaton, how are you?" There's a twinkle in his eye when he says it. I feel embarrassed about how I was behaving before.

"Much better." I say. Then I grudgingly add, "Thank you." He opens his hand in a wide gesture, as if to say that he had done nothing. I guess I do like him. "How about that walk? I'm just leaving now, you could walk back to the main building with me." At first the suggestion makes me nervous, but I look back at Tris and then finally nod to him. "OK,"I say.

We walk out of the hospital and onto the paved path leading back to the main building. It's a short five minute walk. We don't speak. I'm outside for the first time in three days and it really is nice. The air is starting to get crisp, the first leaves on the trees are changing colors. A cool wind blows in my face and it feels like I haven't breathed so well once in all this time. When we're nearly at the end, I can't resist one question, "Dr., will she wake up and be ok?"

He doesn't reply immediately. He looks into my eyes as if searching for something. I wonder if he can see my despair in there, if he can see how much I need him to tell me that she will be better. He sighs. "Mr. Eaton, you know I can't answer that question. Not as you would like me to." I slump back. I had hoped, but I knew he wouldn't give me an answer. The doctors have been telling us to be patient for days, not wanting to give us any clues, too scared we might have too much hope and then be disappointed. I don't understand it. Isn't it better to have hope? I feel like hope is all I have. I remember the little flame in my chest when Cara first gave me the news. I nod and turn to leave, but he catches my shirtsleeve.

"That doesn't mean I can't give you any answer." I look back at him curiously. He goes on. "The body is a wondrous thing and the mind even more so; you must understand, it's all very complex." I nod to show him I do understand, even though I know I don't really. "We're fairly certain what caused the coma was lack of oxygen to her brain while her heart had stopped. Her heart failed several times in the first few hours, but only once did it last longer than a few seconds, in which case it took us close to four minutes to get her back. Her brain is slightly swollen. We've been keeping her cool and administering the proper medication for this and it seems to be helping. The swelling is going down. Tomorrow we will do a CT scan and start with EEGs to see about her brain activity. I have hope that we will find something. How much, I can't say. But it's not just her brain and the lack of oxygen that troubles me. Being dead for four minutes certainly isn't good for the brain, but it's not such a long time that the brain shouldn't be able to recover under suitable conditions. But these are not suitable conditions. She experienced great trauma and lost a lot of blood. I worry about her heart, though each passing hour makes me feel more confident she won't fall into heart arrest again. I guess the real question at this point is: is she strong enough? Her body has to find great reserves of strength to overcome this." Dr. Cooke looks me in the eyes again. He seems to be waiting for my reaction.

I think about his words. It makes sense. It's not one thing that's making her situation complicated, it's the combination of things. But if strength is what will help her most, as he seems to think, then I believe this is the best news I've received in days. Because Tris is strong. My eyes have unexpectedly filled with tears. "I think you've just given me good news, Dr. Cooke. I know she's small and not very strong in a physical way, but Tris has strength. More strength than anyone I know." He nods. He seems to approve.

"I don't know her as well as you do, Mr. Eaton, but I believe you're right." With that, he nods again and turns away.

I stand there for a while. Finally I brush away my tears and walk back to the hospital. I also have to be strong, like Tris. I'm ashamed of my behavior these past two days, of my abrasive and obsessive manner, but I will take that shame and turn it into strength. I will be strong for her.

(page break)

The next week passes by more quickly than I would have thought possible. I abide by Dr. Cooke's rules. I talk to people again, they talk to me. I'm not quite kind, but that never was my strength. I'm usually civil. I receive several daily updates on Tris (which never include any real news) and now I'm also informed on what's been going on in the city and the compound, since people apparently perceive me as being approachable again.

Chicago is a mess. Several meetings have taken place throughout the city to inform everyone of the changes, but there are way more questions than answers going around. There's been some rioting and violence. Johanna is the only leader left and she has called for an election, but how and when and for what is all still open. Someone told me yesterday that Marcus has disappeared. I realize I don't care. Amar went to pick up Evelyn in my place; I didn't even think of her for a second. I know she is at the compound but I haven't seen her yet and I'm glad for it - there's no way I can possibly deal with sorting out my feelings for her at this moment, especially since I know she doesn't like Tris. I can't shake off the idea she is actually hoping Tris won't make it and the thought makes my insides harden into stone. And Evelyn isn't the only one who has come to the compound now that the city is open. I wish people would stop telling me about the outside world, I just want to shut it out and focus only on Tris now.

The compound seems to be no less complicated: everyone who has been affected by the memory serum is being 're-educated' on who they are and what they believe. They are being taught that genetic damage isn't the cause of the world's problems and that it's time to end the discrimination of the so-called genetically damaged. The Bureau has been given some version of events and will probably be in touch soon with more questions.

Reprogramming people's minds seems to be grueling work, so I'm glad I don't take part in it. I'm especially glad because it keeps me from seeing David. Amar has shown me where the guards here train and I've added an hour of daily training to my schedule. It feels good to use my muscles, to let all the tension out on punching bags, since I can't let it out on David.

On the fourth day the doctors finally started allowing visitors to enter her room. Only one person at a time is allowed inside for four hours each day. The first day I go in and am in such awe that I will finally be able to touch her again, to feel her skin on mine, that I almost just stay standing at the door. But soon I work up the courage to walk over to her bed. I look at her, drinking her in. She is smaller and paler than usual. She looks so frail. Her face is expressionless. I yearn for her to open her eyes, to look at me and smile as she used to. It's like she's there but she's not really there. At some point I finally manage to touch her hand. Her skin in cool and soft. There is no electricity in this touch. I sigh.

I take her hand in mine and lean down to hold it to my cheek. Emotion overcomes me. The fear, the helplessness, the waiting, it just builds up inside of me like a river swelling and I am the dam. I will have to burst eventually. Sometimes I feel that if she had died in the Weapon's Lab it would have been easier to deal with than this. I hate myself for this thought, but somehow I also know that there is truth to it. "Tris," I say. "If you can hear me… Please know that I am here. I am here waiting for you to come back. I need you, Tris." At this my voice breaks and tears begin to stream down my face. I can't stop it. I haven't cried for so many years, but this … this is more than I can take. So I cry.

A gentle knock at the door brings me back to reality. I look out the window. There is a nurse there pointing at his watch. I've been sitting here in the bed with Tris's hand in mine for the last four hours. I brush my lips against her forehead. "I love you, Tris" I say and leave the room.

(page break)

When the time comes to visit Tris again, I am there, ready for more time with her. Just as I am about to enter the room, Christina comes around the corner with a jar of flowers in her hand. "Four, can you take these in with you? They're for Tris." I look at the flowers. They're yellow and orange and look full of life, like a sunny day. Perfect. Like hope. I look back at Christina. There are tears in her eyes. And I see Caleb sitting in his chair in the hall, his eyes trained on Tris. I realize then how selfish I've been. I'm not the only person who loves her and she deserves to know that, feel that. I hand the flowers back to Christina. "Why don't you give them to her?" I say.

Her eyes light up in surprise. "Really? Oh, Four, thank you, I promise I won't be long." She takes the flowers back and rushes inside.

I look at Caleb. He, too, seems surprised. "You should go in after her." He stares at me incredulously. "But leave me some time with her too, will you." Caleb nods emphatically.

Christina sits down on the chair next to Tris's bed and takes her hand. She talks to her the entire time. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she doesn't, but she's always talking. Once, she even laughs. After an hour she leaves the room. She walks over to me, and without a word, gives me a strong hug. Then she looks up at me for a moment and leaves.

Caleb is next. He is hesitant to enter the room. He slowly enters and sits down. After a while he awkwardly takes his sister's hand and strokes it. He says something and then breaks down crying. Soon he leans his head on her arm and spends an hour like that crying. At some point his tears must have run dry because he dries his face and his nose on his sleeve and gets up and leaves.

I enter after him. I sit on the bed again and take her hand in mine and hold it. I wonder if it's good to talk like Christina did. I don't know what to say, though. All I can think of is that I want her back. I want her back. So I remain there silently holding her hand until a nurse comes to tell me it's time.

(page break)

When I arrive at Tris's room after my shower on the tenth day there is a group of doctors standing in front. They're talking quietly, but they seem excited. Fear and excitement course through me equally. They get quiet as I near them. Dr. Cooke is among them and he smiles at me.

"Mr. Eaton. We've just gotten the newest test results. As you know, so far we have been getting some brain activity but not much. As we compare the data of the past few days we see though that there has been a gradual increase day by day. It's always small, almost unnoticeable, but in total it's something. Today, for the first time it seems there has been a change in this pattern. We've noticed a considerable increase in Miss Prior's brain activity compared to yesterday morning. And it seems she is also breathing on her own sometimes. The respirator is still necessary, but it's a great improvement."

I'm elated. This sounds like really good news!

Dr. Cooke asks, "Did you notice anything while you were visiting her yesterday, Mr. Eaton?"

I think back"I don't know… There was one moment, but I thought I just imagined it."

The doctors are now all looking at me very seriously. "Please tell us," one of them says.

"When I was in there with her yesterday it was like all the other days. She didn't react to anything I said, or to my touch or anything, but when the nurse opened the door and called my name, I thought I felt a slight pressure in my hand. When I looked back down at her hand it was slack like it had been, so I thought it was just my imagination." I feel uncomfortable under all their scrutinizing stares.

"The nurse called you?" Dr. Cooke asks.

"Yeah. She said 'Tobias, it's time'." I reply.

He nods as if to himself and then he asks me to please pay very careful attention to Tris the next time I visit her and be sure to let him know if anything else like that happens. I nod and sit down in my chair to observe Tris carefully. I'll have to tell everyone else to watch out also.

(page break)

It's the twelfth day since Tris was shot. She's still in a coma, but her situation has changed a lot in the past days. Today the doctors have removed her from the respirator because she is breathing on her own. She moves sometimes, her hand twitches, her lips move, her eyes roll around. Sometimes she even opens her mouth. Once, she reacted to a flashlight shining in her eyes. And she twitched when her foot was pricked. Her brain activity is constantly increasing. Dr. Cooke says it's almost like she is asleep now. Now three people are allowed to visit her at once. Today, Zeke, Christina and I spent two hours with her in there. We talked to her, stroked her hair, held her hand, hugged her and we talked to each other. Zeke got Christina and I laughing so hard our sides hurt. I swear I thought I saw the corners of Tris's lips turn up while we were laughing.

Dr. Cooke always nods approvingly when he sees us with her – I'm pretty sure he's convinced we can help her be strong. I notice how he always talks to her when he's examining her.

These past two weeks have been hell for all of us, but for me especially, I think. And Caleb. We still don't talk much, but I'm beginning to feel my anger at him slowly ebb away. How can I stay mad at him when he's this miserable? Caleb hasn't been talking to anyone much and there aren't exactly people lining up to be his friends. He seems to be getting along with Cara and Matthew, but it isn't the same as having someone around who actually knew Chris like the others do. I guess I'm starting to feel sorry for Caleb.

This thought catches me off guard. Feel sorry for Caleb? After all he did to her? I think this whole experience is wearing at me so much I'm becoming weak. I decide to go train for a while. The punching bags will help me.

I try to imagine they're Caleb, but I can't. So I imagine they're David instead. Everyone has been doing a good job of keeping him away from me. They're careful not talk about him near me, but I've heard people defend him. They say he's a different person since he lost his memory. I don't care. I still think he should die.

After an hour and a half of training, my muscles ache and my knuckles sting. I take a shower. Maybe the nurses will let me inside Tris's room again tonight before I go to sleep, just for a few minutes. They've been more lenient lately, so who knows?

I stand in front of her room, looking in the window. I can't help but notice that she looks better somehow. She looks less pale, more alive. A nurse passes and I try to act meek as I ask if I might have a few more minutes inside with her. The nurses exhales loudly through her nose and looks around as if afraid that someone might overhear. "All right, Tobias. But only for a few minutes."

I thank her and rush into the room. I'm surprised. I didn't think I could manage meek, but I already know intimidating does nothing for me here.

Tris's lips are moving and her eyes are rolling back and forth in her head. I hurry over to her.

"Tris?" I say softly. She continues without change.

"Tris, it's me Tobias. I'm here, Tris. Can you hear me?" There's no change in her, if anything, she seems to be moving faster.

I look at her. I hate feeling so helpless. I place my hands on her cheek so I'm holding her head, then I lean over her and kiss her lips. Her mouth is so soft. I've never felt such pain from a kiss. I kiss her again.

She stops moving her eyes and her lips slowly become still. I release her head and take her hands in mine. I squeeze them, then, after a few seconds, I feel her squeezing back. My heart jumps. I squeeze her hands again. Again, she squeezes back. This is what Dr. Cooke has been telling us to look out for! Reactions!

I want to call the nurse back, to tell her to get Dr. Cooke, but I'm afraid of letting go of her hands, I'm afraid I'll lose this connection we've managed to establish. I know she's somewhere in there, trying so hard to get back to us.

"Tris," I say gently. "It's me. I know you're trying to come back to us, Tris. I know. And I know you're strong, you're strong enough to make it to us. Be brave, Tris." I squeeze her hands twice. And then I wait. 5, 10, 15 agonizing seconds pass. Then I feel her squeeze back. Once. Twice.

It feels like a triumph. I kiss her again and then I reluctantly release one of her hands to push the button to call the nurse. She rushes back soon and I ask her to call Dr. Cooke. He arrives quickly. I tell him what happened and he seems excited. He thanks me and so I step away from the bed. Dr. Cooke takes my place and begins speaking to Tris, pricking her with nails, shining his flashlight in her eyes… She seems to respond to everything in some way or another. After a while, he is satisfied. He turns to me.

"These are very good signs. In the beginning she was completely unresponsive, I guess you could say in a very deep comatose state. That's bad sign. But she's been getting much more responsive the past days." He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Let's have hope this will end soon, Mr. Eaton." I lean back and close my eyes. I exhale slowly. Hope this will end soon. Not just end, but soon. I open my eyes and give Dr. Cooke a thankful smile. I give Tris one last kiss on the forehead, whisper "You never cease to amaze me," in her ear and go to sleep.