I don't own Divergent.

Sorry about the shortness of the chapter, but this resolves one cliffhanger and leaves another one. Sorry, but I hope you enjoy.

I quickly scrub my hands and pull on the gloves. I swab it on all of his cuts, wincing when he winces. I quickly finish his back and move on to his legs. The doctor and nurse bandage him and I help them to turn him over. He cries out slightly and I rush to his head. I take his hand again and comfort him as best I can. I kiss an untouched part of Four's head and go back to my Neosporin-ing his cuts. We finish, and the doctor and nurse add some more bandages that I don't question. The doctor then says something quietly to the nurse and she nods, leaving.

"What?" I ask wearily.

"I asked her to call your father. I need him to sign some papers," Doctor Hodgins answers. "And to get a concussion specialist. Meanwhile, though, I'm going to clean the cut on his head." And he does. I hold Four's hand the entire time. He looks me in the eyes as he winces and I feel awful.

"What should I tell Zeke?" I ask quietly.

"Tell him the truth," Four answers, as weary as me. I kiss his cheek and stand. Doctor Hodgins just nods as I go and retrieve Zeke. He looks like shit. Uriah and my father are sitting there, my father with a clipboard on his lap and a pen in hand.

"Zeke," I call. He jumps up and runs to me. I take him in to Four, where Doctor Hodgins is talking with a man about Four's head.

"Four, man, I was so worried. We thought you were gonna die on us," Zeke says, serious for once. "And those seventy-three minutes in the waiting room were torture."

Four doesn't meet Zeke's eyes. "Thanks, man. Did Tris tell you what happened?"

Zeke shakes his head. I speak instead of Four, "His father. His father did this to him."

Zeke's eyes widen. "Oh. I'm sorry, man." Then he sees the look on Four's face and leaves. I sit in the chair next to Four's bed and he takes my hand. I rub circles over his knuckles.

"Tris," Four says softly. "I'm really sorry I was so awful to you about Marcus."

I shake my head. "It's okay, Four."

"Not, I was a dick."

"Yeah, but we can deal with that later. Right now...why don't you rest?" I suggest, stroking his hair. The corners of his mouth tug up into a small smile.

"You're stroking my hair," he comments.

I continue to do so. "Yes."

"Do you like me, Tris Prior?" he asks softly.