A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Rosalie!

To clear up any confusion, this story is not set entirely during the time that Tris and Tobias are apart. It will continue during this time frame for a while longer and then will shift to later and will go through their engagement and wedding. So, there's definitely Fourtris coming. In the meantime, the focus is on the characters' personal growth, on the growth of the new country, and on what's happening around the rings (the second one will be introduced later). :-)

Chapter 5: Tobias – Pittsburgh

We spend the rest of the week preparing for the trip. One of George's friends from the bomb shelter, Alexis, is able to convert my Chicago credits to money that will work in Pittsburgh, and I swap enough to cover anything we can reasonably expect to encounter. But being the deeply cynical person I am, I also buy some jewelry to take along, just in case. It'll give me something to sell or trade if needed.

It's a relief when Alexis offers to lend us a car, too. There are plenty of abandoned ones around the city, but it's a gamble whether any given one would be up to such a long trip, so it's better to have one we know is working well. We also bring extra gas, though it should be safe to refuel along the way this time, without NUSA soldiers waiting to ambush us.

George does well with the therapy session on Monday, or more accurately, Amar responds to it well, relieving the few nagging doubts I had, and I find myself feeling unusually settled that night. For the first time since Uriah's admission, I sleep well, dreaming for some reason about Tris and Anna walking around Pittsburgh handing out rings to the poor.

Kevin and I head out early Tuesday morning, both in surprisingly good moods. I have no illusions that this will be an easy task, but it's been a long time since I've done something that feels so right.

The drive seems to take forever. It's difficult to compare it to the last one, with Tris by my side as we headed into unknown danger, but there's no question that the roads are still in awful condition, and it takes ages to trudge along them. I end up teaching Kevin how to drive as we go, to fill the time and to give me a break from being behind the wheel. He picks it up quickly, which is hardly surprising for a Dauntless-Erudite mix, and he seems to enjoy it.

We talk more than I would have expected as we go, about a wide variety of subjects. It helps, I suppose, that Kevin has spent a decade in Erudite, learning thousands of useless facts – and some interesting ones. I'll never share Caleb's fascination with the water filtration equipment in Amity, but it's somewhat intriguing to hear about how the train lines in Chicago were expanded and reduced over the years and how the trains themselves operate.

We refill the gas tank in Toledo, and I notice that there are still blood stains from where Robert and the NUSA soldiers we killed once lay. Someone obviously retrieved the bodies, since there aren't any bones or decaying forms left behind, and I wonder vaguely who did that – and if it was on Tris' orders. It wouldn't surprise me if she remembered her dead friend, while I left him lying there without a second thought.

After a little debate, we decide to spend the night in a long-abandoned building a few blocks from the gas station. We spread our sleeping bags on the hard floor and then end up sleeping on top of them, since it's too hot for their stifling warmth. It's certainly not comfortable, but I've dealt with far worse, so I don't say anything. Kevin doesn't complain, either. I'm not sure if it's the Dauntless left in him, or if he's thinking about how his former girlfriend was forced to live after he drove her into factionlessness.

We leave before five o'clock the next morning and drive almost straight through, stopping only briefly to eat some of the food we brought with us. Shortly after noon, we reach the hilly terrain outside Pittsburgh. I'm driving at that point, and I think about turning the wheel over to Kevin, but it seems to be mildly easier to face my fears when I'm in control of the car, so I end up staying where I am and focusing on breathing as we cross the peaks.

The entrance to the city is the same hell I remember from last time, with its never-ending tunnel that empties onto a bridge high over the water. Kevin keeps giving me worried looks and reminding me to breathe, and I'm pretty sure I leave permanent imprints from my fingers on the steering wheel, but I make it to the other end of the bridge in one piece. That presumably counts as some kind of victory.

It's harder to remember the route from here, since it was dark the last time I was in this city, and I was too caught up in my fears and in facing my father to notice every turn. So, I settle for taking the same highway exit that Amar took, and then I pull over to the side of the road.

"Is this it?" Kevin asks, looking around uncertainly, as if he's expecting the pawn shop to be in sight.

"It's as close as I know how to get us," I tell him plainly. "From here, we'll have to ask for directions and do a lot of searching."

He nods, his mouth flattening in mild distaste as he looks around. I can't blame him. The place still looks terrible compared with faction life in Chicago, with slime on many buildings and trash on the street. To me, though, the living conditions don't seem as extreme as they did last time I was here. At least in this area, there are no shelters packed between buildings, and when I open the car door, the stench of human misery is not nearly the assault it was. Tris has clearly made progress in improving people's lives.

Kevin climbs out of the car and immediately wrinkles his nose in disgust. "You weren't kidding about the smell…" he mutters, and I smirk a little in response.

"I hate to tell you, but this is a lot better than it was." In fact, given we're in the heat of summer now, and it was winter last time, the smell has improved remarkably.

He looks at me in disbelief before shaking his head slowly. "Ouch," he mutters. But he seems to accept it, walking beside me casually as I approach a small group of people who are standing by the side of the road, talking.

"Excuse me," I say when I'm near enough to be heard. Two of the people closest to me turn around, their expressions filled with the politeness I associate with Abnegation. It's slightly unnerving to see that here. "I'm trying to find a pawn shop that's somewhere in this area. Do you know how I could get there?"

A middle-aged woman in the group looks us up and down curiously. We're both wearing the oldest, most ragged clothes we could find for this trip, but despite that, we look better off than the people in front of us. Their outfits are dirty and ripped, and it's obvious that they haven't bathed in weeks. Suddenly, I'm keenly aware of just how much easier our lives are than those of the people I'm asking for help.

"I've seen a number of pawn shops around," the woman says thoughtfully, "but I don't really know how to get to any of them." She gives me a half-smile before adding, "I've never had the money to buy anything there." My sense of guilt increases as I think about the money and jewelry I brought with me, but I don't say anything. I can't fix this city's problems one person at a time, and I have a specific objective behind this trip.

The woman turns queryingly to the others in her group, and they begin the kind of rambling conversation I've seen many times in my life when no one has an answer but everyone is determined to help. I decide to give them a few minutes to see what they can think up, and it seems to pay off when one of them eventually goes to ask a friend.

He comes back with a young woman – more of a teenager, really – who approaches us somewhat warily. "You're looking for a pawn shop?" she asks, and I nod, trying not to look too intimidating. It would help if Kevin and I weren't both over six feet tall, while this girl is closer to Tris' height.

"We're trying to find one I saw a while ago. It was labeled 'PAWN', and it carried jewelry." I know it's a pitiful description to go on, but it's all I have.

"Oh." She twists a plait of her dirty brown hair together, chewing on it as she considers that. "Well, I didn't notice if it carried jewelry or not, but I applied for a job at one that's a few miles away. Do you want to try it?"

I hesitate, but Kevin says, "Sure." At my look, he adds, "If it's the wrong one, someone who works there can probably direct us to others. People tend to know their competitors well." That's a fair point.

"Yeah, we'll take a look," I agree.

The girl clearly tries her best to give us directions, but between us not knowing the area and her inability to remember some details of the route, it quickly becomes obvious that this will never work.

"Why don't we take you there?" her friend finally suggests, again in that helpful tone that reminds me so much of Abnegation. Just how must of that faction did my broadcast impart on these people?

But it doesn't seem to have affected the girl as much, because her expression makes it obvious that she isn't thrilled with the suggestion. Presumably, that's because Kevin and I are frightening people, but in a way I'm glad of that right now. We're already better dressed than average for this city, so we're ripe for someone to try to rob. That makes it a good time to look Dauntless.

But not necessarily to our potential guides….

I give the type of polite smile I grew up seeing, and I say gently, "If you have time available, that would be very helpful." I pause briefly before adding, "And we would be happy to pay for your service." It's only fair to offer, and we might as well address the wealth discrepancy up front.

A grin spreads across the girl's face as she finally nods in agreement. "Follow me," she says happily, leading the way at a good clip. Her friend falls into step behind her, walking by us and giving us a warm smile.

"My name is Emmanuel," he says. Gesturing toward our guide, he adds, "and that's Emily."

I incline my head in greeting. "That's Kevin, and I'm Tobias."

Something like recognition flickers through his eyes when he hears my name, and I tense automatically. He presumably knows me from the broadcast, but for a variety of reasons, I don't want to discuss that right now.

"You look familiar, Tobias," he says, his tone quizzical, and I realize he can't quite place me. "Have we met before?"

"I doubt it," I answer shortly, trying to discourage him from pursuing the subject. "I don't live in this area."

It's obvious from his expression that he knows I'm hiding something. But I guess he respects my privacy, because he just nods and turns his attention back to the sidewalk, walking in silence as we look around.

It's amazing to me how much the city has changed. The hand-built shelters that filled every nook and cranny last time seem to be entirely gone now, and in multiple areas we pass, I see people actively cleaning the streets and buildings and doing manual construction work. It has the same feeling I've seen back home in the past few months, every time a new faction has created a space for itself. These people are building communities to live in and are excited to be getting them ready.

The attitude of the rest of the population is noticeably different, too. The last time I was here, there was a sense of defeated obedience to everyone, but now people call to each other in greeting and gather in groups, talking animatedly. Optimism almost seems to float in the air, reminding me of Amity, but with more of the energy from Dauntless and the volume of Candor.

But a less visible difference is what catches my attention the most. During the mission, I was a mass of tension from the number of times I heard someone striking another person – and heard the cries of pain coming from a woman or child in response. I don't hear any of that this time. Instead, I frequently see children running in groups, laughing, while indulgent smiles follow them from the people they pass.

I don't know what to make of all this. There's no question that poverty is still heavy through here, at least judging by the old, worn clothing that everyone seems to be wearing. But the people don't look as starved or neglected as I remember, and every time I see someone eating, it's in a group of some kind where they're sharing their food. It reminds me of how the factionless in Chicago lived.

In fact, the more I look around, the more everything I see today reminds me of Chicago. Forcefully. And that makes it obvious where the changes stem from. Our mission. My broadcast. Tris' presidency. We did this.

It's a humbling reality.

"Are you all right?" Kevin asks softly, and I realize I'm breathing rapidly. It's hard not to, as the full impact of that day hits me. It was so hard to share what I did in that broadcast – all the most intimate parts of myself – and I've never really wanted to think about it since then. But now I'm surrounded by the consequences of my decisions…and for the first time, I think maybe I made the right choices.

"Yeah," I say a bit stiffly, glancing at Kevin. "It's just really different from last time."

Before he can answer, Emily comes to a halt, gesturing grandly at what is clearly a pawn shop. She looks like she's proud of herself for finding it, but my heart sinks a little at the sight. It's not the right one. Still, as Kevin said, it's a starting point, so I don't complain as we head inside. Hopefully, the employees can help us get where we need to be.

"There are over a hundred pawn shops in Pittsburgh," the manager tells us, a touch of impatience in her voice. "So, if you want to find a particular one, you'll need to give me a lot more to go on."

"Well, it's on this side of the river," I state. I'm not surprised when the woman just raises her eyebrow. Obviously, that doesn't narrow the list much. Turning to our guides, I add, "And it's probably within a two-hour walk of where we started."

"Centre and Vine," Emmanuel offers helpfully, but the manager shakes her head.

"It'll take you weeks to visit every pawn shop in that radius," she tells us. "What else do you have?"

They all turn to me, and I wrack my brain, trying to come up with something unique about the nondescript shop we visited so long ago. I can picture the inside fairly well, but it was filled with transitory items – things for sale, nothing structural or identifying that would help us now. Except maybe one thing….

"It was in the broadcast," I say tightly.

For a moment, the room is dead silent, and then Emmanuel's eyes widen with shock. "I knew you looked familiar," he gasps. "You're the one who did the broadcast."

Emily raises her hands to her mouth, staring at me in awe. "Oh, my god," she whispers before her eyes flit to her friend. "You're right…."

"It can't be," the manager says, looking utterly stunned, but as the reality in front of her seems to sink in, she looks far less certain. "Are you really?" she finally asks, her voice quiet and filled with hope.

I don't know how to respond, and for a long moment, we all just stand there, staring at each other. It's Kevin who ultimately answers for me.

"Yes, Tobias transmitted the broadcast that ended NUSA," he says in his most factual voice.

"You freed us," Emmanuel says, stepping closer and reaching a hand toward me as if he wants to make sure I'm real. But I instinctively back away a step. I've never liked being touched, except by a very few people. Well, really just Tris.

"I'd be dead by now," Emily adds, also stepping closer, "if it weren't for you."

"My son probably would be, too," the manager says quietly. "A lot of people would be." As with the other two, she moves to touch my arm, and I step back again, discomfort raging through every part of me. There is nothing easy about this conversation.

"I don't think he knows…" Emmanuel says slowly, his eyes moving from me to his friend and then back again. "You haven't been here to see the consequences of your message, have you?"

I feel like a trapped animal, and I want nothing more than to leave this store right now. But part of me knows I can't avoid this discussion. These people clearly have very strong feelings about what I transmitted, and good or bad, they need to express those emotions.

"No," I admit awkwardly, "this is the first time I've been back here since that day."

Emmanuel nods thoughtfully, his eyes dark and serious. He seems to be struggling with where to begin.

"Our lives are so different now," he tells me softly. "I don't even know how to explain…." He runs a hand through his black hair. "I guess I should begin with the changes that President Prior made. She opened the government buildings up to house families with young children, and she insisted that all of the abandoned buildings throughout the country had to be opened so that anyone in need could move in. For the first time I can remember, I had real shelter through the winter. We all did."

Emily pipes up next. "And she said that hospitals couldn't charge for emergency medical care. I broke my leg a few months ago, and they cleaned it up and put it in a cast." She looks down at her right leg, tapping it on the floor to show that it works. "If that had happened before, I'm sure it would have gotten infected and killed me." Her voice is thick, and a tear makes its way down her cheek as she adds, "Like with my sister."

Something jumps inside me, and I swallow hard, thinking suddenly of my sister, Margaret, living factionless for her first few years of life.

"The president expanded the schools, too," the manager says, a hint of wonder in her voice. "I didn't think I'd be able to afford to send my daughter to sixth grade, but now she'll be able to go for free." She shakes her head in amazement. "Can you imagine that? Free middle school."

"But it's not just that," Emmanuel says, clearly wanting very much to make me understand. "It's everything else – everyone's attitude, and the opportunities we have now. Businesses have been hiring more people instead of keeping all their profits to themselves, and those who have more have been sharing food and clothes with those in need."

"For me," the manager says softly, her voice breaking a little, "the biggest difference is what you said about abuse. My husband used to hit me and our children sometimes, but he doesn't anymore. Not at all."

Kevin turns to stare at me, clearly startled by that statement, and I realize I should have talked with him more before bringing him here. Like everyone else in Chicago, he learned only basic information about the broadcast – just that it stopped the war and overthrew NUSA. He doesn't know exactly what message I conveyed, because I never had any desire to share that and didn't feel it was necessary. Maybe it was.

I run a hand up the back of my neck, feeling the sweat prickling there. This is all too much to absorb.

"Look," I say, finally finding my voice again, "I…appreciate what you're saying, but I didn't come here to…." My voice trails off as I realize that I can't tell them I don't want their thanks – that would just come off as rude. But after growing up in Abnegation, I have no idea how to accept gratitude without deflecting it off myself. And this is too big to deflect.

To my relief, Kevin jumps in. "We came here to find a ring that belongs to President Prior," he says firmly. The other three are instantly focused on him. "She and Tobias had to sell it the last time they came through here, and Tobias wants to find it now and return it to her."

It's as if someone flicked a switch, turning on electricity to the three people talking with us. They visibly light up at the idea of helping Tris, or perhaps of helping me to help her.

"I didn't recognize the pawn shop in the broadcast," the manager says, "but I'm sure I can find out where it is. I'll start calling the other stores I have numbers for." She moves toward the back office rapidly, obviously wanting to help right now.

"I'll take care of any customers who come in while you're doing that," Emily calls after her enthusiastically, and I remember that earlier she mentioned applying for a job here. If she hasn't already gotten it, she's probably earning it now.

Emmanuel looks at us, clearly eager to come up with a way to help too, before he says, "And I'll lead you there once we have a location."

I spend the next two and a half hours wandering through the pawn shop, looking at item after item, while the manager makes her phone calls and Kevin talks with the others. There's a restless energy going through me that I don't seem to be able to release by moving. But I'm not ready to talk about it yet, either, so I just keep idly examining the junk in the store.

The manager is proud and excited when she bursts out of the back office, announcing that she's located the shop we need. She jots down the address for Emmanuel, who leads us out with his head held high and a spring in his step. I follow quietly, trying to ignore the curious gaze Kevin levels at me. He undoubtedly got some interesting information from his conversation with the others, but he's always been good about holding off on probing questions until I'm ready to talk.

It takes a little less than half an hour to reach the door I recognize from months ago. It feels surreal that we're here already, some three hours after entering the city. I would never have expected to find it this quickly.

My heart beats faster as we approach, remembering how nervous Tris and Uriah and I were the last time we were here. We almost lost the whole mission that day, when the store owner wanted Pari to drink NUSA's serum-laced water. It was only Tris' quick thinking that saved us.

We enter, and I go straight to the cases of jewelry, scouring them for a sign of Anna's ring. There are two large cases, with multiple shelves that are packed with items, so it takes time. And even after the first pass, I think there's a chance I might have missed it, so I look again. But I don't see it.

"Help me look," I tell Kevin and Emmanuel, my anxiety starting to show. "It's gold with a diamond." But nothing they point out is right. Surely, it hasn't been sold. There can't be that many people who could afford a ring like that in this city….

But it soon becomes obvious that the ring is nowhere to be seen.

"It's gone," I tell the others, feeling the weight of hopelessness sink into me again. I finally came up with a way to help Tris, and I couldn't make it work.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" a man's voice asks, and I look up to see a face I know – the store owner who bought the ring all those months ago.

For a second, we just stare at each other, and then he smiles broadly. "I always suspected you would return," he says. "You or the president. I remembered her saying that she didn't really want to sell that particular ring, and I felt certain you'd come back for it."

"Do you still have it?" The words practically jump out of my mouth.

I get my answer in the way his face falls. "I'm sorry," he says softly. He clearly means the sentiment, but that doesn't stop a crushing sense of loss from going through me.

"It sold the day after you were here," he adds. "I apparently underpriced it." He looks at me sadly for a moment before continuing. "But after the broadcast, when I realized what I'd sold, I wrote down everything I could remember about the man who bought it."

He moves behind the counter, reaching down for something, and then extends a piece of paper to me. "I saved that for you. I don't know if it will help or not, but I hope perhaps it will."

A/N: Whew, that was a long chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will switch POVs briefly, and then we'll be back to Tobias for a little longer.

Please let me know what you think of the story so far, and particularly of this chapter. I really, really appreciate your reviews - they always encourage me to write and to post as frequently as I can. Thanks!