A/N: I know I usually use these notes to gush over you all, and I will, but first two things:

The-Things-I-Think-Of: I hope Tobias' reasoning makes more sense to you after reading this. Without giving too much away I think it's an aspect of his character that hasn't been well addressed in other fics, but that I am fascinated by.

To the guest reviewer who signed their review 'LDragon': I do not normally approve critical guest reviews because I find it incredibly spineless. However, I did approve yours because I wanted to address it specifically. First of all I won't be dictated to by snarky reviewers. Secondly, if you want more 'lemons' look elsewhere because I am not EL James and I cannot write mindless smut for hundreds of pages. As a writer, but more importantly as a reader (because I read 'M' fics almost exclusively) it gets tedious. I could argue or post another smut-free chapter, but really, it would be as juvenile as your review was and a complete waste of my time.

To all my other readers: I love you so much that I think my head is going to explode :) Thank you all for being wonderful and lovely, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am trying to update this once a week, and hopefully now that the holidays are past us I can stick to that schedule.

When I got back Tobias was sitting up in bed. He looked good, more like himself despite the sling holding his arm in place so his shoulder can heal. One side of his face was covered in scabs though, brown and crusty instead of red and livid with fresh blood.

But the longer we sit and talk the more terse his voice becomes and I can tell - even if no one else can - that he's tired, and sick of being around people; sick of listening to Tori and Harrison talk about Marcus and Evelyn and what we've found out, which feels like next to nothing right now. He might be sick of me too, I'm not sure.

Tori rises to her feet, pulling a set of keys out of her pocket and tosses them on the bed. "Since I know you won't stay in bed no matter how emphatically the doctor insists on it I had Tris' grommets and Christina move your things to an apartment in the Pire. You're on the floor above the Control Room. At least this way you won't fall into the Chasm if you have dizzy spell while you're working instead of resting."

I see the muscles in Tobias' jaw jump and twitch at Tori's misguided maternal instincts, but he doesn't say anything. Once she and Harrison are out the door he sags, holding his head in his hands. I realize now he was putting on an act for them; one he can't or won't put on for me, though it clearly wasn't fooling Tori.

I reach out timidly, laying my hand on his good shoulder. That he doesn't throw it off I take as a good sign. He swings his legs off the bed, and fits me between them, holding me close. Even though it's only been a few days since we could do this it still feels like coming home after a long journey. It feels like being whole again, like being able to breathe again. "I don't want to fight," I whisper.

"Me either."

"Lets go home, Tobias."

I feel rather than hear a chuckle rattle through him. "I'm not sure I can make it that far."

Just because he's hurt doesn't mean he needs me to coddle him. But I do want to take care of him, if he'll let me. "I'll help you." He peeks at me, and I can tell he hates the idea of needing help with anything, but he's in no position to argue.

Once he's got his shoes on, and I shove the bottles of medication on the bedside table in my pockets, I loop an arm around his waist, prodding him to his feet. With his arm around my shoulders we look like any other Dauntless couple as long as no one looks at us too closely.

Most everyone is at dinner already as we cross the glass floor, but we meet Cara and Ellia and exchange polite 'hello's. "What's the deal with them?" Tobias asks once we're alone again, a tiny chime sounding in the elevator as we pass each floor in the Pire. "That's not her daughter, is it?"

"Boyfriend's sister. He and his family fled with Cara, but they were killed by traitor Dauntless. She tried to save him, but he told her to run, to keep Ellia safe."

"People shouldn't have to make those choices." Tobias' voice is fierce and hard.

"I know." A floor above the Control Room the doors slide open. The hallway is dingy and unremarkable, lit by the same blue orbs that light the hallways in the Pit. Our apartment is at the end. "Are you going to be okay with the height?" I ask as we walk.

"As long as I'm not close enough to the windows to see the ground I should be." When the door swings open my breath catches in my throat. The view is beautiful, but Tobias eyes the floor to ceiling windows warily.

There are three different types of apartments in the Pire. We're in the smallest kind, designed for singles and childless couples, but it's still much larger than the apartment we had. The wall opposite the front door is made entirely of glass. There's a kitchen with a breakfast bar built into one side, as well as a closet with a washer, dryer, and shelves for storage. The wall opposite the kitchen is encumbered only by a door I know leads to the bedroom, and a fireplace.

"C'mon." I lead him into the bedroom. There's a pile of boxes in one corner, but someone - Christina, probably - has made the bed. He lets out a little moan of pleasure once he lays down on top of the blue quilt. "Better?"

"Much."

I move to the foot of the bed and start untying the laces of his shoes. "Tris."

I ignore his weary, irritated tone, and pull off one shoe then the other. I crawl up the bed and lay facing him. My rebuttal is one word - family. I trace my fingers along the uninjured side of his face, feeling the rough stubble of a day old beard since he hasn't been able to shave; the soft, delicate skin of his eyelids. "Sleep, I'll unpack." I press my fingers to his lips in lieu of a kiss. He nips at them and nods, tilting his face into the pillow.

By the time the sun goes down the only box left untouched is the one Susan brought. I bring it over to the bed, carefully setting the blue glass statue on the floor while I rummage through the papers, seeking the ones at the bottom, the ones I hadn't gotten to before Zeke banged on the door the night before.

I pull out a manila folder, and inside is my birth certificate, Caleb's birth certificate, and my parents marriage certificate. It's the latter that holds my attention.

It's simple, of course, spelling out modest promises to love, honor, and cherish. It's no different from hundreds of other Abnegation marriage certificates, except for the signatures. My mother's, full of beautiful curves. My father's simple and strong, except for the 'r' at the end of Prior so slight as to be a nearly indistinguishable bump. My uncle's - who served as witness -, a sprawling scrawl.

It's the most personal thing I have of them anymore. My eyes devour it hungrily. I analyze every feature, though there are few. I never knew my parents birthdays, but they're here, along with their government identification numbers. I count in my head, figuring out their exact age since I never knew it before, and then how old they were when they married, when Caleb and I were born.

"What's that?" Tobias asks sleepily.

I pass him the folder and his eyes quickly scan the documents it contains. "How did you get these?"

"Marcus. He sent Susan over with them as an excuse to give me his note. Your mother's statue and all your school papers are here too."

"I don't want them," he says dismissively.

"Are you sure?" Abnegation frowned on keepsakes, but the ones that were allowed Tobias kept. Obviously he saved them for a reason.

His eyes shift around the same way they were at the bottom of the Chasm the night I came back from Amity. I know he's not telling me something. And I don't know if he ever plans on telling me. He hands me back the folder and I can't help fondly brushing my fingers over my parents signatures. "You miss them."

I look up to see Tobias watching me, his eyes tender. "Every day."

"Tell me about them."

"They were both transfers. My mother from Dauntless - she was Divergent -, and my father and uncle from Erudite; their family was friends with Jeanine's. They both worked for the government." It's only now that they're gone that I realize how little I knew my parents.

"What else?"

"Nothing else. We were Abnegation, it wasn't polite to be curious or talk about yourself."

"Just because they didn't talk about themselves doesn't mean you didn't know them."

"You think so?" I twist around and look out the window. "After Caleb I'm not so sure of that. I know my parents loved me, and each other, but I didn't know them. I wish I did, but how much can you know a person without knowing what they think and feel? It seems stupid that I lived with them for sixteen years and can't tell you anything more than our next door neighbor could."

It's dark outside, but I can see snow blowing past in the light spilling out the window; the first snow of the year. I sigh and turn back to Tobias. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think. My head isn't pounding and the room isn't spinning at least. I think I'm going to take a shower." He pulls his shirt up to sniff at it and grimaces. "I smell like the infirmary," he says disgustedly, and stands up.

He sways and the only thing that stops him from falling back onto the bed is my hand on his back. "You going to help me bathe too?" He snaps, voice thick with frustration. I know it's not directed at me though, just the helplessness he's feeling. I withdraw my hand and he stands firm. "Okay, have to remember to stand up slowly," he says more to himself than me.

"You know most boys would be more enthusiastic about that," I say, not so much echoing my words from his fear landscape, but definitely their meaning.

After a minute he shoots me a roguish grin over his shoulder. "I didn't say I didn't like the idea. Besides, the way things have been going, I might actually need help."

"Are you serious?"

He shrugs. "Only if you want to. I'm just saying, I wouldn't mind." I feel my stomach knot nervously, but there's something else too, an excitement that makes my cheeks flush and my pulse race.

Tobias follows me into the bathroom. It's bigger than our old one, just like the rest of the apartment; this one has a shower and a bathtub. The Abnegation in me says it's too much for two people, but the girl in me really likes it. I fiddle with the panel of switches just inside the door, trying to quell my fear. I was sure about this a second ago, but not so much now.

It shouldn't be a big deal. Tobias has felt every part of me, and seen almost as much. But it's different in here; there are mirrors and I can't hide behind dimmed lights. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping for calm. In the dark Tobias' words come floating back to me. I ignore my fear. When I make a decision, I pretend it doesn't exist.

There's a difference between being afraid and acting in spite of fear.

I don't look at Tobias or the mirrors or anything really as I undress and step into spray of the shower. All I see are the backs of his bare legs when he follows after me. I grab the soap off the tray and rub it across his back, over the faction symbols and up to mine. Keeping my hands busy keeps my head clear, and if he doesn't like it he doesn't say anything.

But I think he likes it. He subtly leans back into my touch, head hung loose between his shoulders. I like it too, but I always like the way he feels under my hands, and not just because it gives them something to do. I let them drift lower, over curves and planes of muscle feeling my mood lightening every second, like the water is washing away all my fears.

"I think this was a bad idea," Tobias says without looking at me.

My mood deflates on the spot. "Oh," is all I can say, my hands dropping to my sides.

"I'm a little worried I'm going to faint. There isn't enough blood going to my brain." It takes a second for my brain to catch up with his words, but when it does I have to stifle a giggle behind my hand. "Don't laugh, it's not that funny." But a moment later he's laughing with me.

"We can stop if you're really that worried," I tease.

He turns around, facing me for the first time. His injured arm hangs loosely at his side, but the wraps around my hips. He pushes me up against the tile, trapping me between it and him. It makes fear shoot through me, and I keep my hands flush against his chest to maintain some control over it and him. "I didn't say I wanted to stop," he whispers against my lips and then he kisses me. It's soft and slow, the kind of kiss that makes me feel like my bones are melting.

His words make an alarm sound somewhere in the back of my brain. They're vague and could easily mean something else, especially with the way he's hard against me. But I don't think they do. I push him away and reach for the soap. "Are you going to let me finish?" His lips twist up in a smile. "What?"

"Nothing. Finish."

"Tell me," I mumble against the underside of his jaw, his stubble rough against my lips.

"I never thought I'd learn to like you taking control. When did it in your simulations the first few times I was furious with you, that's all."

I kiss the hollow of his throat and pull away, swiping the bar of soap across him in place of my lips. My fingers play in the soft foam of it, chasing the trail of frothy white bubbles lower and lower. Across his chest, and I can feel his heart hammering away under the cage of his ribs. Lower to his stomach and over the slight ridges of muscles as they pull taut under my touch.

I let my fingers drift lower, across his waist and into the space usually covered by his boxers. "Can I?" My voice sounds breathless, but I can't look away from where he hangs hard and heavy between us. My body might still be slight and childlike, but his isn't.

"Yeah," he breathes out.

My hand is slick with soap and it glides over him easily. I'm careful not to press too hard, and when my fingers twirl around the tip and back down he shudders out a hissed expletive, bowing over me. When I do it again his hips twitch and I can tell that he's trying to keep himself still as I explore his body. His hands reach out timidly, sliding up my sides to my breasts, exploring me the same way my hands are exploring him.

I use the sounds eeking past his lips as a guide, reveling in the way I can make his breath hitch, and moans bleed out; the way I can make his body judder and shake. Christina was right; learning how to do this is like learning how shoot or fight or throw knives. And just like the first time I shot a gun, there's power in it, in having control over something powerful.

Because despite the bruises Tobias is powerful, could take from me anything he wanted and we both know it. But there's no triumph in taking something by force. The war was enough to teach us that.

The muscles in my arm burn in protest, and it's enough to bring me back from my wandering thoughts. Back to the shower, humid and fragrant, an obscene slapping sound bouncing harshly off the tile walls that enclose us. I change my pace, pulling at Tobias with slow, languid strokes to rest my muscles before they cramp. His eyes peel open, pleading with me to give him what he needs. After a minutes debate I lower myself to my knees in front of him.

His eyes go wide, and suddenly I'm nervous. Using my mouth seemed like a logical solution, but now that I'm face-to-face with the problem I'm not so sure. The logistics of it and my inexperience make doubt cloud my brain, but I shake it off and lick a stripe up the side of his length.

I look up to see Tobias looking at me with want and heat and lust. I do it again and he leans against the wall behind him, trying to steady himself, fingers trying to dig into the grout between the tiles for stability. All it does is spur me on. I'm careful not to scrape him with my teeth as I take him fully into my mouth. I keep a hand on his hip and my other around wrapped around him, controlling his movements.

But my hair falls into my face. "Hold my hair back?" That simple request makes Tobias look like he's going to swallow his tongue. He nods weakly and winds his fingers into my hair, holding it at the nape of my neck gently.

Between the two of us we work out a rhythm. His hips rock up towards me as far as I'll let them. Gagging probably wouldn't be very alluring. "Can you-," he starts and then stops abruptly.

I pull away with a wet popping sound. "Can I what?"

"Can you... use your tongue?" He asks shyly, cheeks pink like a little boy.

"I can do that," I assure him, though I'm not so sure myself.

I kiss my way back down and let him push past my lips once again. A quick swirl of my tongue leaves him leaking into my mouth. It's not unpleasant. A little salty, but not bitter or sharp. It tastes like him, like he should taste. I let him slide in further, and as he slides out I trace the ridges of veins, memorizing every inch of him with my tongue.

I don't have guess if he likes what I'm doing or not. He groans, low and guttural, satisfied. With that sound fresh in my ears I have no idea why the Dauntless girls I've heard gossiping so often complain about going down on a guy. They always made it seem like something guys loved and they did out of some twisted sense of duty.

But this? This I enjoy. Maybe more than I should because with the taste of him in my mouth and the sounds he's feeding me there's a growing ache between my thighs. It doesn't consume my attention the way it does when he's touching me, but it's there, steady and insistent.

Tobias' fingers tighten in my hair, pulling at it harshly. I hum my displeasure, which was exactly the wrong thing to do because a second later he twitches and spills into my mouth. I'm so shocked that I swallow without thinking, though I do nearly gag at it. Not the taste, but the texture. It's thick and viscous like mucus. Decidedly unpleasant, and it's enough to make me reconsider the complaints I'd so easily dismissed.

I glare up at him, and he looks down at me contrition and euphoria playing on his face. "Sorry," he says sheepishly. My knees ache as I stand up, but he cups my cheek in his hand. He peppers my face with chaste kisses, words of gratefulness and affection pressing into my skin just as easily.

"Next time warn me," I scold.

"I will. I promise," he says solemnly. His hand slides down, but I grab his wrist, staying him. "When you're better." He scowls at me. "Do you want to explain to the doctor why you messed up your shoulder?" I ask, an eyebrow cocked in challenge.

xxxx

I don't normally have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, but tonight I do. I have Tobias and our bed and blankets, and the bathroom light is on like it was in our old apartment, but I can't sleep. After hours of staring at the ceiling I slip from bed and take a basket of dirty laundry into utility closet just inside our front door.

I sit on the floor and watch the black of our clothes and the white of the soap slosh around, thinking. I don't know how long I'm here - not long since the washer's barely to the spin cycle - when Tobias appears in the doorway. He looks half asleep; hair tousled and eyes heavy.

"What are you doing?" He asks around a yawn.

"Laundry."

"At two in the morning?"

I shrug. "I couldn't sleep. I thought I might as well do something useful. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You not being there wakes me up better than any alarm." He lowers himself onto the ground next to me. "What's keeping you up?"

"A lot of things. My parents and growing up in Abnegation and me and you." I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, using them as a pillow as I watch him watch me. "You didn't ask me why I didn't want to fight, when I got back." I don't know if I expect him to say anything, but he doesn't, so I press on.

"I was so mad at you for thinking I needed bodyguards, like I was too weak to take care of myself, or that I'd do something stupid. But while we were driving there Zeke told me about you, about what you were like after I left for Erudite. He was trying to make me understand... why you behaved the way did today."

I press my face to my knees. "You said once it was strange that you had to learn about me almost dying from Caleb. I think it's strange I had to hear all that from Zeke. I wish I didn't. Maybe it's harder for both of us because we were raised Abnegation and trained to not talk about ourselves. But you never talk about Evelyn abandoning you... about the scars that left."

I peek up at him, but his eyes are downcast. "You have probably never begged for anything in your life, even when Marcus was torturing you, but you begged me not to go to Erudite. My leaving you like that, all the times I never valued my life..." I trail off, feeling guilt consume me. "I hurt you. I ripped open all those old wounds she left. And it's the reason why you asked me if I'd be there when you woke up, and why you woke up just now without me in bed. Some part of you is scared that I really won't be there."

The washes buzzes signalling the end of the cycle, but I don't take my eyes off Tobias. "But that's not what I was thinking about. I understand how what I did makes it hard to trust me with things as personal as that because I can hurt you more than anyone else. But I wish you would. I wish you would act in spite of your fear the same way I did in the shower this evening because we both stuggle with intimacy even if it's in different ways."

"I just don't want to be like this forever, even if I understand why you don't tell me things now. I don't want us constantly fighting because you don't talk to me or I don't talk to you. I don't want to constantly wonder what you're not telling me, like I was earlier when you said you didn't want your school papers because I do know when you're not telling me something. I don't want to live with you and not know you the same way I did with my parents."

The silence between us banks up like the piles of snow falling outside, soft and delicate. Eventually his hand finds mine and our fingers lace together.

A/N: all credit for the shock swallow goes to Wee Kraken :)