Shaomei pointed out to me in a PM that I had posted CH35's deleted scene a second time as CH48. I'm normally very good about labeling, but that one snuck out. Sorry about that. So here's something else... like with so many things, I wrote Amar's confrontation with Four about Tris's rape in her sims a couple ways. One way was with sympathy and caution that would set Amar up as a confidant and a friend. That's the way I went in the end. But the other option was to have Amar be suspicious and jump to conclusions. The idea that Dauntless wouldn't take rape lightly and would protect their victims, especially the women, fueled an alternate theory that Amar -with his years of experience in watching sims- would know that fears like hers came from a reality and that Four was most likely her attacker. It was Four in the sim after all. This would have wedged Four and Amar apart. It would have opened Four up to be more supportive and forgiving of Tris because all of his anger and focus would be on Amar and that betrayal and things would probably have been happier and a lot less fun.
So, forgive the redundancy, but I wrote it two ways with heavy overlap.
Four kept one screen on the hallway outside the simulation room. He couldn't keep his eyes from wondering over again and again. Amar had walked Tris in, peaking through her charts and having a conversation the camera didn't collect. Ten minutes later, they're still in there. Each minute made him more nervous and scared for her. A long time meant the same for her as it did for him, things had changed.
He considered checking the back door that poked out into the rarely used utility hallway, or walking down and checking. But he knew she was safe with Amar.
The door opened behind him, Four swiveled, expecting to see Harrison and starting to give a report on the morning's investigation into the assault the night before. Hands were around his throat before he had a chance, a fist clocking his temple like a hammer on a nail. His vision blurred, his hands too weak to defend.
His aching wrists were the first thing he notice, then the throb behind his eyes. His hands were secured behind him with cuffs. Amar's hand slapped his face waking him.
"What the fuck?" he slobbered, wiped his torn lip on the edge of his shirt and attempted to get his bearing, but not before another neck snapping collision. "Fuck! Stop!" he shouted, pulling against the metal until it cut his skin.
"Is that what she said?" Amar paced.
"Who? What?"
"She beg you to stop? How'd you get her so fucked up that she keeps coming back?" Another slap when Four didn't answer.
"Stop it. What the hell is going on? Who?" Four had vaguely enough information to infer that a girl had been hurt and by him, according to Amar. But the only girl Amar had been with was Tris. Four started to panic, Tris had been hurt.
"When'd you do it? When she was an initiate?" Amar was only vaguely visible in the dimmed lights of the control room, but each footstep was loud and squeaked on the linoleum tile. His arm shot out to grab Four's throat.
"What happened to her? Is she okay"
"When did you rape her?" Amar's hand tightened.
"Rape? I never hurt her. I swear, I never hurt her." Four fought the pulse in his head to form thoughts. "Did she say I hurt her?"
"She will."
Tris was laying in the infirmary, sedated to stop the shaking. Caleb had been called to collect her, make sure she got home.
"Amar, I swear. I didn't hurt her. I haven't been with her in months." He pleaded, flinching when Amar's hand went up. "Get the truth serum, shoot me up. I didn't hurt her. I would never hurt her." He tried to wipe the blood from his nose.
"I think I will." Amar pulled out the blue syringe.
.
.
Four kept one screen on the hallway outside the simulation room. He couldn't keep his eyes from wondering over again and again. Amar had walked Tris in, peaking through her charts and having a conversation the camera didn't collect. Ten minutes later, they were still in there. Each minute made him more nervous and scared for her. A long time meant the same for her as it did for him, things had changed.
He considered checking the back door that poked out into the rarely used utility hallway, or walking down and checking. But he knew she was safe with Amar.
The door opened behind him, Four swiveled, expecting to see Harrison and starting to give a report on the morning's investigation into the assault the night before. But Amar smiled back at him.
"Hey, I didn't see you come out." He pointed at the screen.
"Oh, I took her out the back door. She said she needed to get some food, it was the closest path." He shrugged.
"So? How'd it go."
"Alright, she did fine." Amar shrugged, playing with a set of handcuffs. "Did you see the new kits?" He held them out, Four took them, examined them.
"Look the same as the old ones." He smirked, passing them back.
"Naw, look. It's got this, um, I'm bad at explaining, just look." Amar sat on the edge of the chair and leaned so his arms were on his knees, Four mimicked him to get a closer look.
Four extended out his right hand, Amar popped it against his bone to get it too clip into place.
"See, how smooth?" Amar explained.
Four looked at him waiting for the punch line. Amar flicked his foot out and pulled Four's leg out from under him, pitching him forward to catch himself. He quickly attached Four to the leg of the bolted down table.
"Ha, ha." Four messaged the now bleeding cut in his wrist. "What? I'm supposed to be more cautious?" He asked, annoyed and teasing out the lesson.
Amar sat back in a chair, out of reach. His expression dripping into exhaustion, disappointment, disbelief. His hands rubbed at his eyes. He let out a long sigh.
"Tobias Eaton if you aren't your father's son." Amar pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Amar, what the fuck? Give me the key."
"When'd you do it? Initiation? Right after? It's no where in her SIMs from before. Did you groom her for it. You break her down, rank her high? Make her feel partial to you? How'd you split her off when Erudite attacked? That planned or a happy accident?"
"Do what? Where's Tris? Is she okay?"
"What do you care, as long as she crawls back." Amar sucked his teeth, contemplating. "How you get her so wrapped up that she forgives you? Hmm? You break her down, make her think she's not good enough? You convince her she likes it?"
Four felt cold, the blood draining out of his limbs. He caught Amar's stare, held it, focused in on him. "Where is Tris? Is she okay?"
"She's just the way you left her: broken, confused, shaking."
"Amar —"
"No!" He jumped to his feet and yelled. "You shut up or you answer questions!"
Four swiveled as close to his wrist as he could, to relieve the pressure of his hunched over position.
"So? When did you do it, the first time?"
Four blinked quickly, he couldn't keep up. "I, um, I don't know what you're talking about. Get these fucking off me!"
"You didn't hold her down? You didn't tell her it would be okay? You didn't pin her arms so she couldn't fight?" Amar examined Four's face carefully.
"I didn't. I'd never."
"Someone did." Amar challenged, "Possibilities are pretty limited"
"Is she saying I…? She was?" His breath caught in his throat, he pulled on the cuff, felt nauseous.
"She's too sedated to say much of anything."
"Serum."
"What?"
"Fuck! Truth serum, now. If it's the only way you'll believe me, shoot me up. I never hurt her."
Amar pulled out a blue syringe, already loaded. He held it up to call his bluff, only Four jerked his head to the side and made a clear path.
"Do it, fucking do it. I didn't hurt her." He couldn't keep the sob from bubbling up. He slid off the chair, the memory from his apartment clicking. "Who hurt her?"
Amar had never seen him cry, Four wasn't a good actor and he certainly wore every sign of distress Amar had trained himself to see. He unlocked the cuffs quicker than putting out a fire.
"Where is she?"
"She's safe." Amar paused, "Who hurt her?"
"I don't know." Four hugged his knees to his chest. "How do you know she was—?" He couldn't say the word.
"It's all over her landscape."
"She's um, she's got a fear of… being intimate." Four blushed a little, feeling stupid for his reaction.
"No, it's nothing like her landscape before." Amar shook his head. "I watched the playback last night to prep."
"Who hurt her? Anyone come to mind?" Amar repeated.
"I don't know. We haven't talked about the time between."
"How do we find out?" Amar prompted.
"Caleb."
Caleb gave it up easily, with a disgusted face. A quick call to Johanna confirmed Matthew was in the Bureau, no convenient trip to Chicago planned. Zeke was an easy recruit for a trip out of town, Four didn't have to give him the details. He asked and his friend didn't hesitate.
"Four!" Matthew greeted, happy and genial. "I was surprised to see you on my calendar."
Four shut the door behind him. Zeke and Amar waited on either side, ready to stop anyone that came to interrupt.
"Matthew." Four answered coldly.
"How is Tris, do you know? It's been a while since I've checked in on her." Matthew dug with a smirk, easily assuming jealousy.
Silence and his slow approach was more menacing than taunts. Four flexed his hands and rolled his fingers into fists.
Matthew blanched and moved out from behind his desk, butting a couch between them. "You two back together?"
Four stepped closer, blocking him from the exit. Matthew stepped back, herded to a corner and stammering. "You two weren't together. It's not like she cheated."
Four was an arm's length away when he gripped the lapel of Matthew's jacket. Four look at his knuckles around the blue fabric, testing his grip with a tug.
"Don't do anything rash, okay? I mean, we didn't do anything wrong."
"Do you like being held down?" Four asked, pushing him against the wall, holding him.
A switch flipped behind Matthew's expression, he smiled. "Boy, did she love it. Came back for seconds."
If Matthew thought Four would dissolve with his taunts, it was a gross miscalculation.
Zeke looked nervously at Amar having expected to hear yelling or something from inside. Then gave a nod of acceptance when the thumps started sounding.
"What he do?" Zeke whispered. The entire ride up had been a stagnant silence he wouldn't break.
"He hurt Tris." Amar offered.
Zeke listened to the satisfying thumbs, counting each landed blow. Around fifteen he was starting to loose his cool listening to the violent pounding going on inside.
"Are we going to let him kill him?"
"Probably shouldn't. Thought his hands would wear out by now." Amar popped open the door and Zeke slipped in.
Four had Matthew on the floor, rhythmically but slowly landing blows to his chest and face while he heaved for breath, sobbing. Zeke wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him up. Four lashed out a final kick before stepping away.
Zeke slipped off his shirts and separated his tank top out. They ignored Matthew's moans while Zeke made sure the splatter on Four's neck and face was wiped as clean as possible.
"So?"
"What?" Four sounded hoarse.
"What he do?"
"He raped her." Four's eyes squinted and he let out sound that Zeke only knew as anguish. He took big gulps and collected himself. Zeke kept an arm on him so he couldn't retreat back to Matthew.
"Surprised he's breathing." Zeke nodded at Four, assuring him that he looked alright then turned him around and pulled him out the door.