TRIS

I can feel the lingering heaviness of the sedative and a dull pain. The fact that it's dull tells me I'm probably on pain killers. My body wants to stretch, the same as if I've been asleep for too long and stretching is the only way to shake off the lethargy. Too late, I remember that stretching is a bad idea and I feel a sharp, painful pull in my side. That's right. I was shot. Twice.

Opening my eyes I see the only thing in the world that matters. Tobias. His head rests on the bed near where he is gripping my hand. His face is peaceful and I can tell by the stubble present that he has been at my side for at least a day.

"Tobias." I say and it comes out as a cracked whisper, barely audible. I swallow to try again, but his eyes fly open and search my face.

"Don't move. I'll get a doctor." He says and I start to protest, not wanting him to leave, but instead of getting up, he presses a lighted button I didn't notice before.

"Did it work?" I ask even though I know that I was able to release the virus serum I know there are so many things that could have gone wrong.

Tobias slowly smiles, "Yes. Everything. It worked." He understands then. My brother's sacrifice, born out of love for me and selflessness, was not in vain.

"Tell me." I say, reaching out with my uninjured arm and pulling weakly at Tobias' shirt. Wanting him closer. Suddenly I'm desperate to feel his warmth and vitality.

"Tell you what?" He asks, amusement glittering in his eyes as he gingerly shifts me toward the far edge of the bed and crawls in next to me, his arm carefully draped to avoid any contact with my left side.

"Tell me about this new world we have created." I say closing my eyes and letting my cheek rest against his chest. His hearts beats strongly beneath me and I breathe him in. Perhaps now, now that our plans have taken their course, and apparently been successful, we can leave all violence and revolution behind and I will never have to be far from the sound of his heartbeat again.

"It's amazing Tris. The Bureau is still shaking off the effects of the memory virus but we have been feeding them the truth: that human nature is complex, that all our genes are different, but neither damaged nor pure." He pauses, his hand gently stroking my hair, "We told them one lie: that their memories were erased because of a freak accident, and that they were on the verge of lobbying the government for equality for GDs."

I open my eyes and shift to look at his eyes, "Don't say that word. Ever again. I didn't say it clearly enough before, but there is nothing damaged about you. You are more than the sum of your genetics. And that is the truth that people need to accept." He is nodding and cradles my face against his chest again.

"I know. I couldn't hear you at first. I was so willing to accept that a part of me was broken. That that could explain the pain and failure I've felt in my life. But I know now." Tobias' voice is soft, almost a whisper. But I let myself relax again because I can tell that he is in a good place and no longer tortured by the idea that he is somehow less than I am. We know the truth. People have always done evil. And there is no answer or solution that can be found within their genetic code.

"I've been thinking," I say and I meet his eyes again, "the faction system. It's broken now, but it wasn't without merit. It was the strict adherence to the idea that a person should only align themselves with one that allowed for the decisions and discord. "

"It can't be salvaged, Tris. There's too much bad blood on all sides." I know he's thinking of his mother and of the factionless.

"And I'm not saying that it should be reinstated. But perhaps there is room in this new world, for people to develop an affinity for a particular way of life, that represented by their preferred faction, but instead of allowing them to immerse themselves only in that path, they are expected to learn from all." She smiles at me, "It's like you said, you want to be good, and brave, and intelligent, and selfless and honest. Shouldn't everyone?"

He smiles back at me and kisses my forehead, "Yes. But how about we let you heal before we explore any more sweeping societal changes." He grins and I laugh, which is a mistake because the bullet wound in my side makes it almost impossible for me to use my oblique muscles without stabbing pain.

Luckily the doctor comes in then being led by Cara, looking a little confused, but his eyes focus as soon as he is handed a chart that I didn't notice hanging at the end of my bed. Cara smiles at me but does not say anything, letting the doctor attend to me first. There will be time for reunions, and planning, and grieving, later. A feeling of peace settles over me, more potent and real that the Peace Serum from Amity and I am deeply aware that not only do we have time, but more importantly, we have life.