Note: All characters and story in general came right from Veronica Roth's head, not mine. I only expounded on her idea. Also, ALL of the words in regular Italic font belong to Veronica Roth – her exact words. Whenever you see regular font you are seeing my wording. Also, the bold Italic words are mine and are meant to be read with typical italic flare. The first few chapters are here almost word for word from her book because I thought it was necessary to lead up to the change.

CHAPTER 50

TRIS

"HOW DID YOU inoculate yourself against the death serum?" he asks me. He's still sitting in his wheelchair, but you don't need to be able to walk to fire a gun.

I blink at him, still dazed.

"I didn't," I say.

"Don't be stupid," David says. "You can't survive the death serum without an inoculation, and I'm the only person in the compound who possesses that substance."

I just stare at him, not sure what to say. I didn't inoculate myself. The fact that I'm still standing upright is impossible. There's nothing more to add.

"I suppose it no longer matters," he says. "We're here now."

"What are you doing here?" I mumble. My lips feel awkwardly large, hard to talk around. I still feel that oily heaviness on my skin, like death is clinging to me even though I have defeated it.

I am dimly aware that I left my own gun in the hallway behind me, sure I wouldn't need it if I made it this far.

"I knew something was going on," David says. "You've been running around with genetically damaged people all week, Tris, did you think I wouldn't notice?" He shakes his head. "And then your friend Cara was caught trying to manipulate the lights, but she very wisely knocked herself out before she could tell us anything. So I came here, just in case. I'm sad to say I'm not surprised to see you."

"You came here alone?" I say. "Not very smart, are you?"

His bright eyes squint a little. "Well, you see, I have death serum resistance and a weapon, and you have no way to fight me. There's no way you can steal four virus devices while I have you at gunpoint. I'm afraid you've come all this way for no reason, and it will be at the expense of your life. The death serum may not have killed you, but I am going to. I'm sure you understand—officially we don't allow capital punishment, but I can't have you surviving this."

He thinks I'm here to steal the weapons that will reset the experiments, not deploy one of them. Of course he does.

I try to guard my expression, though I'm sure it's still slack. I sweep my eyes across the room, searching for the device that will release the memory serum virus. I was there when Matthew described it to Caleb in painstaking detail earlier: a black box with a silver keypad, marked with a strip of blue tape with a model number written on it. It is one of the only items on the counter along the left wall, just a few feet away from me. But I can't move, or else he'll kill me.

I'll have to wait for the right moment, and do it fast.

"I know what you did," I say. I start to back up, hoping that the accusation will distract him. "I know you designed the attack simulation. I know you're responsible for my parents' deaths—for my mother's death. I know."

"I am not responsible for her death!" David says, the words bursting from him, too loud and too sudden. "I told her what was coming just before the attack began, so she had enough time to escort her loved ones to a safe house. If she had stayed put, she would have lived. But she was a foolish woman who didn't understand making sacrifices for the greater good, and it killed her!"

I frown at him. There's something about his reaction—about the glassiness of his eyes—something that he mumbled when Nita shot him with the fear serum—something about her.

"Did you love her?" I say. "All those years she was sending you correspondence . . . the reason you never wanted her to stay there . . . the reason you told her you couldn't read her updates anymore, after she married my father . . ."

David sits still, like a statue, like a man of stone.

"I did," he says. "But that time is past."

That must be why he welcomed me into his circle of trust, why he gave me so many opportunities. Because I am a piece of her, wearing her hair and speaking with her voice. Because he has spent his life grasping at her and coming up with nothing.

I hear footsteps in the hallway outside. The soldiers are coming. Good—I need them to. I need them to be exposed to the airborne serum, to pass it on to the rest of the compound. I hope they wait until the air is clear of death serum.

"My mother wasn't a fool," I say. "She just understood something you didn't. That it's not sacrifice if it's someone else's life you're giving away, it's just evil."

I back up another step and say, "She taught me all about real sacrifice. That it should be done from love, not misplaced disgust for another person's genetics. That it should be done from necessity, not without exhausting all other options. That it should be done for people who need your strength because they don't have enough of their own. That's why I need to stop you from 'sacrificing' all those people and their memories. Why I need to rid the world of you once and for all."

I shake my head.

"I didn't come here to steal anything, David."

I twist and lunge toward the device. The gun goes off, but I feel nothing. I don't even know where the bullet hit me.

I can still hear Caleb repeating the code for Matthew. It's so loud it almost sounds like he's in the room with me. With a quaking hand I type in the numbers on the keypad.

The gun goes off again.

I still feel no pain; a residual side effect of the death serum, I think. I feel no pain, but I hear Caleb's voice speaking again.

"The green button! Tris, the green button, do it now!"

I respond to the voice automatically, slamming my hand into the keypad. A light turns on behind the green button.

I hear a beep, and a churning sound.

It's done. I don't know how, but we did it. And I'm still here. I am checking my body for bullet holes when I hear something just off to my right sliding to the floor.

Caleb.

His voice was real. He was right beside me. Quickly I glance toward David, ready to attack, but both he and his wheelchair are overturned surrounded by a thick pool of red.

Instincts take over and I run to Caleb. He is slumped on the floor, his breath shallow, but at least he's breathing.

"Beatrice," he says weakly, reaching one hand toward me. I don't know what he's reaching for, exactly, but he lands on my forearm. "Beatrice, you did it."

"Caleb, what are you doing here?"

"I knew you could do it, but I couldn't let you go. I needed…" His breaths are coming much farther apart now. "I needed to know that you were going to get out. I needed to know I did all I could,"

He's looking at me like he's noticing me for the first time or the last time. Caleb, my brother. When it really mattered, he saved me. He saved me and now I am holding his body while he dies. I won't get another moment with him. I thought if his sacrifice was one of love, and in the end it was, I would be able to get over it quickly. Looking at him now, I don't know that I will be able to at all. I have so much to say to him, but my voice is stuck and my vision is blurry.

"Caleb, Caleb, look at me, just look at me. I love you. I forgive you. I love you." I am trying to be brave, but my voice catches just at the end.

"I love you too…Tris." His eyes close and his hand slips from my arm. I am waiting for his next breath. When it doesn't come, I can't hold back the sobs.

My only move from him is to cradle his head to me. As I rock us back and forth, his body lifeless and mine moving back and forth, I think of all the people that gave their lives for me. My entire family is dead, they died saving me. That day Tobias got us out of Erudite, I declared my family gone. Not until this moment did I actually feel their loss. If Caleb had been the same emotionally stunted boy that entered Erudite, I could have walked right out of this room. But Tobias was right. He loved me. Caleb loved me, even if he didn't know entirely how to say it or show it, he died for it.

I stay rocking him until my body feels cold. I can hear commotion in the hallways, confusion, but I can't bring myself to move just yet. Time. I'll always need more time.

I don't know how long I rock with Caleb, but eventually I stop crying and all I feel is tired. So tired. Closing my eyes, Caleb still cradled in my arms, I let darkness take me over.