The song is "What hurts the most" by Rascal Flatts, and actually I think it fits for Tobias as well, but my first thought was of Caleb. Thank you very much for all reviews, favs and alerts – and again, please tell me what you think.

I did not expect to feel anything today.
Four… Tobias… whatever, I don't think I will ever get used to this man or his name, was not half as aggressive as I had expected. Maybe he has accepted by now that nothing can change what happened. I got used to his stares and the way his hands move when he sees me, I'm not sure he realizes it himself, but whenever we meet – which, thankfully, is rare – his fingers start dancing, almost stroking the air. That is, I guess, the sweet moment of irritation before he recognizes me. Before it winds up to his clouded mind that I am not her.

Before he remembers that if it wasn't for me, Beatrice would probably still be alive.

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out

I walked through the empty corridors of the bureau in my memory, more often than necessary to reflect over the plan, and over how it turned out in the end. There was, different to what I had allowed myself to believe, a chance to solve the situation in another way. There was a chance, even as she held me at gunpoint, that I would be the one ending up dead.

I guess her boyfriend hasn't thought it through to this point, or he is in that case smarter than me and has accepted that it does not matter.
It does not matter.

I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while even though
Goin' on with you gone still upsets me

It shouldn't for me either, but unfortunately it does. It upsets me that she first accepted and then condemned my sacrifice, and therefore my apology, and then died herself before any of us could react to the newly broken peace between us.

There are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay
But that's not what gets me

I didn't expect to feel any different on this day, though now I think I should have. I had no part in this funeral, it was an entirely Dauntless activity, though officially we have long abandoned the factions.
Still I came here, obviously looking for something. Or someone.

I don't know. And that upsets me almost more than anything else. Is it her I seek, traces of the girl I never knew? This Tris they are grieving for is not my sister.
My sister would have accepted my apologies, she would have done her duty as we both were trained to. She would have listened to me, or at least told me why she could not forgive what I did.
Would. And that is where my mind gets misled by regrets. Why should I think of "would be"?

I will never, and that upsets me the most, understand Tris.

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And havin' so much to say
And watchin' you walk away

I am aware of the stares, aware that nobody in the group appreciated my coming, my existence any more than I do.
Every breath I take, my sister should breathe. Every day the sun should shine on her face, not on mine. We were siblings, one blood, raised by the same hands. We should not have stirred against each other. "Faction before blood", they think, was my excuse to do it all the same, but that is not true.
I left because I wanted to do what's right. I could not do that by being who I was raised to be.
She did the same, my sister, she chose her way.
We were equal when we left, close as we had been in Abnegation, though factions apart now.

And never knowin'
What could've been

I can't help the question coming up, irrational as it is. Where did our paths diverge? What happened to make my sister going to her death voluntarily, and twice?

And not seein' that lovin' you
Is what I was tryin' to do

Of course, those questions do not matter. To none of us, if there is still an "us" to be called. After all, what linked us was war and death and fear, and those are not bonds to keep intact.

Beatrice could, if she was still with us. I do believe she could – force her silly boyfriend into accepting me, make her silly Dauntless friends stop staring at me as if I was dirt crushed under her shoes.
She would, there it is again, another reason why I have to stay away from these people.

It's hard to deal with the pain of losin' you everywhere I go
But I'm doin' it

They see her when they look at me, I guess that's why nobody ever tried to kill me. They want to keep whatever little spark of her they get.
Beatrice Prior. She belonged to me for most of her life, she was my only family after our parents were killed. The only person in this world I was ready to die for, and I am left with nothing.

It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone
Still harder gettin' up, gettin' dressed, livin' with this regret

I live, and can't pretend I do not enjoy my work. There are new things to learn every day, and it both justification for why I am still alive - by serving the community with my knowledge – and distraction for why there is nobody to share my results with.
Beatrice, if she had taken my apology, would have liked what I do. She was always too curious for her own good.

But I know if I could do it over
I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

Why did she not let me do this? I understand my value for the community. I cannot die now because I miss a girl that hated me so much she would rather die than forgiving me. It would be irrational. And on good days, the guilt vanishes. After all I offered myself. What else could any of them wish from me? I was ready. It was her who didn't let me be good in their eyes.

I am not the bad one here, I am a victim. Just as they are.
A victim of my sister's inability to… well, live.

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And havin' so much to say

I wish she would have chosen differently. I wish she was still alive, even if I would not be there to know it. But she is gone and left us and there is no reason to linger on her memory for a second longer.

And watchin' you walk away

Everyone has to make their own decisions. Beatrice's – no, Tris', I won't say that's the same just because it seems easier – decision was to close every door to her and die.

What is my decision, concerning her? I saw her ashes dance to the ground today. I have to know what to think of her now that every trace is erased.
Or is it? I do not know.

I hate to be in doubt. I hate not to know what to think.

I hate her. I hate that I would have needed her forgiveness.
I hate that after all this time I do believe that I loved her.

I love her.

And never knowin'
What could've been
And not seein' that lovin' you
Is what I was tryin' to do