A/N: Wow - thank you all for the wonderful reviews from the last chapter! I really appreciate the support. Thank you also to my fantastic beta reader, Rosalie; you have made this story much easier to write.

WARNING: A mild warning still applies to those who are in the last trimester of pregnancy. This chapter isn't as rough that way as the last two, but if you're the type to read something and worry about it happening to you, I'd avoid this chapter until after you deliver.

Chapter 55: Tobias – Forgiveness

(Tris is 30, Caleb is 31, Tobias is almost 33, Abigail is 4 3/4, and Eli was just born)

Caleb's words repeat over and over in my mind as I hold Eli, trying to make peace with my son. The irony is that I got my wish – he has Tris' eyes – and now I'm potentially going to be looking into them forever without her there.

It's an impossible thought to accept.

Objectively, I know that it's wrong to blame him. It's not like he set out to hurt her, and he'll suffer just as much from her loss as I will if she doesn't make it. But I can't help thinking that if he'd just been the same size as Abigail, none of this would have happened.

That might not be true, either, since I don't even know what went wrong. I just know that everything inside me hurts, and I somehow have to find my way through that to bond with this child. I don't know how.

Maybe Caleb is right. I've never been good at forgiving anyone, except maybe Tris. But I can't raise Eli if I blame him for…this.

And I can't abandon him the way my mother left me. For a long moment, I think about how Evelyn must have felt the day my sister was born. As she stared at Margaret the way I'm looking at Eli now, while she desperately tried to figure out a way around Marcus that would protect both of her children.

She faced an impossible decision that day, and I understand the choice she ultimately made, no matter how much it hurt me.

My breath catches as a thought abruptly occurs to me. Did she blame Margaret for forcing her into that position? For taking me away from her? Is that why she ended up neglecting her?

Is that the road I'm heading down?

Gently, I stroke Eli's head, soothing his fussiness. My sister was just a newborn then, the same way Eli is. It wasn't her fault, but I have to admit that deep inside me, there's still a terrified, grief-stricken nine-year-old who lost his mother that day. I thought she'd died in childbirth, and I hated the baby who'd killed her.

But I don't hate Margaret anymore, or my mother. I don't even wish any longer that my past could be changed. Without it, I might never have met Tris, or had the life I've had with her. Even if that ends today, it was worth everything to have it.

So, for a moment, I let myself be that damaged boy, feeling his tears merge with my own, and then I let him go. He belongs to my past.

And for the first time, I find it in myself to truly forgive my mother and sister. With the decision, I feel a tugging through my chest, as if a weight has been lifted. I hadn't realized how heavy my residual anger was, but there's a deep peace in releasing it.

Again, Caleb's words go through my mind, and my thoughts return to him. He was only sixteen or seventeen when Jeanine drugged him, and he betrayed Tris. That feels so young now, even though Tris was younger than that when I put her in charge of an entire country.

He helped her a lot with that task, and he did everything he could to keep her safe during the year we were apart. And today, when I was mired in my own dark thoughts, he was the one who came here to see Eli. To be there for him the way I should have been.

Caleb forgave me a long time ago, but today is when I return the favor. He's my brother-in-law, and my children's uncle, and I don't want to be angry at him anymore – not even a little.

Letting go of that inevitably brings my thoughts to Peter. Ever since they rescued Tris from Erudite, they've been connected in my mind. And with a jolt, I realize that they're the same age. They were both kids, really, at the time they did that, and even younger when they hurt Tris.

I remember being that age, so afraid of my father and so anxious to escape. Amar took me under his wing and helped me learn to channel my aggression and to try to help others. If he hadn't been there for me, I don't know how I would have turned out. Maybe I would have been as bad as Peter, with no ability to be selfless because the impulse was associated with nothing but pain.

For fourteen years now, I've blamed Peter for something he did almost half his lifetime ago. He hasn't done anything since then to make me hate him, but I've held onto that anger anyway. I think of my promise to him almost five years ago – to try to forgive him if he stayed in support for ten years. He's still there, but I'm not willing to wait that long anymore. He deserves a second chance.

With a deep breath, I manage to give him one.

And for the very first time, it truly sinks in that I've earned that opportunity, too. I'm not the same person I was when I broke Tris' ribs. I've spent almost a decade and a half proving that to myself, and ensuring that I would never repeat that behavior. Even now, knowing that I might lose her today, I'm certain that I won't be that kind of parent to my children. I'm worried that I won't be able to love Eli, not that I'll abuse him.

The person I am today deserves to be forgiven, and I find myself shaking as I somehow find a way to do that. If I'm given more time with Tris, it will be without that baggage. Please let me have that time.

My cheeks are wet as I focus my gaze on Eli again, and I'm startled by the strength of the emotion I feel. He's my son. Tris' son. He has her eyes, and my dark hair, and the same cheekbones as Abigail. He has part of everyone I love in him, and suddenly I know that it's enough. No matter what happens to Tris, he will always be our son, and there is no way that I won't love him.

Lifting him up a little more, I hold him close to my chest, rocking him gently back and forth. Whatever comes, we'll get through it together, my family and I.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, cradling Eli as he sleeps. But eventually, Zeke comes in, looking wild and out of breath from running. The sight immobilizes me with panic until he grins widely.

"She's out of surgery. She's okay."

I'm on my feet instantly, adrenaline warring with relief in a strange effect that leaves my muscles rigid and limp at the same time.

"Can you take him?" I ask, suddenly reluctant to hand Eli to a nurse I don't even know.

Zeke nods as he picks my son up gently, holding him in one arm. He gives me a rough embrace with the other. "Go get her."

It's a short run back to the waiting room, since I don't know where else to go, and then Cara is grabbing my arm and rushing me through the corridors to a recovery room. It's filled with curtained areas, and I see other patients behind them as she leads me halfway down the aisle.

We both stop at the same time, and for a few seconds, I can't move as I stare at my wife's face. She's still unconscious, looking small as she lies on the hospital bed. But her chest is rising and falling regularly, and her heart monitor is beating steadily. She's alive.

There is no better feeling in the world.

My body knows the way to her, and my fingers trace her lips and her cheeks for a moment, and then I'm burying my face in her hair.

"Tris," I moan softly.

Behind me, I'm faintly aware that Cara has pulled the curtain shut, leaving me alone with my wife, and I'm grateful for the small amount of privacy it gives us. Because this day has suddenly become too much, and I find myself sobbing outright into Tris' hair.

I don't even remember the last time I cried like this, but the stress and the fear and the relief combine into a sensation that won't come out any other way, and I grip her tightly as I let the feelings go.

"I love you, Tris," I repeat over and over, my voice thick with tears. "I love you so much."

Eventually, I feel her starting to stir, and I draw back enough to see her, wiping my face and pulling myself together so I don't scare her. Her eyes open, flitting around in panicked confusion before landing on me.

"What happened?" Her voice is hoarse and groggy.

My fingers caress her cheek again. "You started bleeding, but you're okay now."

"Eli?" she asks, looking around more wildly now, and I realize that she has no idea if he's safe.

"He's fine. Zeke has him right now, but he's fine."

She's staring at me like she's not sure she believes me, probably because it's obvious that I've been crying.

"Can I see him?"

"Yes." I manage a small smile as I trace her jawline, unable to keep my hands off her. "Very soon, I'm sure. But you're still in the recovery room. We probably have to wait until you're in a regular room."

She frowns, still looking worried.

"Is he really okay?"

"Tris, he's absolutely perfect. You're the one who isn't. Wasn't." I lean forward, kissing her lightly before resting my forehead on hers. "We almost lost you."

The words clearly surprise her. "I don't remember," she whispers. "They delivered him, and you went to check on him, and then I woke up here." She hesitates before adding, "There's nothing in between."

I run my fingers lightly over her hair, stroking it soothingly. As terrifying as this time has been for me, I wonder if it's even worse for her. To know that she could have died just like that, without even seeing it coming. Here one moment and gone the next.

"You were unconscious," I say a bit lamely.

She nods hesitantly. "Am I all right now?"

"Yes." I pull back again so she can see my eyes and can tell that I mean it. "Everything is good now." My fingers twine with hers. "More than that, actually." The first real smile in what feels like forever makes its way onto my face. "My wife and my kids are all safe, and that makes everything perfect, Tris."

A/N: Please take a moment to let me know what you thought of this chapter. The story is getting close to the end - only two more chapters. I hope to post the next one on Sunday.

Two other notes:

1. In case it isn't obvious from my stories, I have strong opinions about domestic violence and our need to address it as a society. Toward that goal, there's currently a problem with Google posting the location of shelters that are supposed to be secret, allowing abusers to find the people who are trying to hide from them. There's a petition asking Google to stop this practice, and I'm hoping many of you will sign it. I can't post the direct link here or ff will strip it, but if you google "change org google-inc-remove-maps-to-secret-domestic-violence-shelters" it will come up as the first link. Please read it, and if you find it reasonable, please sign it.

2. For those who are reading "Bitter Cold" but don't have accounts to let you follow it directly, Muggle Sarah just updated it. :-)